#THE INHUMAN SOUND I MADE WHEN HE | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lokis-army-77 · 1 year ago

Text

Private Viewing

Camboy!Eddie Munson x fem reader

Word Count: 6.8k

What happens when your favorite camboy is in your class? You should stop watching his content... or should you? What happens when you are eventually paired together for a project? Everything will be just fine, won't it?

Warning: 18 +. This is pure fucking filth. Spit, masturbation (m and f), use of vibrators and fleshlight, choking, multiple orgasms, squirting, oral (f reviving), fingering, voyeurism? Soft!dom Eddie, tell me if I'm missing anything.

Thank you @lesservillain for giving me this wonderful idea. 💗 and @munson-blurbs for figuring out if I should do this for Steve or Eddie and for helping give me a title💗.

Masterlist

Nothing but slick sounds filled your room, the occasional deep moan calling out from your laptop speakers accompanying your own sweet cries. The guy on the screen, Ed as he called himself, or DungeonMaster as he was known on Only Fans and Twitter, was fisting his cock in his heavily ringed hand. He was putting on a show for more than ten thousand viewers but the way he stared down the camera with those dark eyes made you think he was watching you, fucking his hand to the way you were pumping your fingers in and out of your soaking wet pussy.

You had stumbled upon his Twitter three months ago and he immediately captured your eye. The way his tattoos wrapped around his pale skin, how he wasn’t all lean muscle like the other OF guys, his tummy by no means a six-pack but he still looked strong enough to sweep you off your feet with ease. His moans were heavenly and so was the deep timber of his force as he praised you through the thirty-second video clip. It was all enough to convert you from your usual consumption of smutty books to the infamous Only Fans sight.

Since then, his streams and videos have become the one and only thing you get off to. And like then, tonight was no exception.

You were so close to the edge, Ed’s moans spurring you on. Your fingers move at an almost inhuman pace in and out, in and out.

“Rub that clit for me, baby. Need you to cum.” He groaned, head resting on his shoulder as he continued you pleasure himself.

“Fuck!” You gasp as you rub your clit with your free hand. Your rhythm is horribly off but it doesn’t matter, you are so close to cumming. So so so close. “Please,” you beg out into your empty room. You aren’t too sure why or what you are pleading for. More friction? More fingers? More words of encouragement from him? Maybe you’re asking to cum?

It’s like he had heard you through the screen as he moaned out, “That’s a good girl. Just like that. Doing so well for me. You gonna cum baby? Yeah? Me too. Want me to count for you?” He nods his head lazily. “I knew you would baby. Okay. Five.”

You want to cry.

“Four.”

The strings tugging inside you are becoming taut.

“Three.”

You feel like you’re going to explode. He’s counting too slowly.

“Two.”

The tears are flowing now.

“One.”

You let out a strangled scream.

“Cum baby. Do it, now.”

Your walls clench around your fingers and your legs snap shut, trapping your fingers. Every muscle in your body is shuddering as those strings snap and your release comes out in a stream, wetting your hand and the bed. Your hearing has gone, there’s a ringing in your ears but you can faintly hear Ed cumming as well.

With watery vision and slow movements, you turn to face your laptop screen just in time to see his tattoo-covered chest painted with milky white ropes of cum.

When the ringing subsides you hear him say more clearly, “Thata girl. Always make me cum so much.” He takes a towel and wipes off his chest and stomach before adjusting the camera view to the shoulders up. “Get you some rest baby, I’ll see you on Thursday.”

And then the live is over.

Slowly, sluggishly, you remove your hands from between your legs and begin the now regular clean-up routine before going to bed.

…

Three days later, Thursday rolls around, and thus begins the fall semester of your junior year of college. It’s a groggy morning, everyone is tired and very unenthusiastic about having an 8 a.m. advanced music composition class.

You had struggled to get out of bed at six this morning just to get one of the dorm showers first before they were all taken up. Luckily two of the five were open and you were able to get to class a whole twenty minutes early, even having time to grab coffee at the on-campus Starbucks on the way.

The music building was old and the tables you and your fellow students sat at were even older. It all added to the sleepy ambiance. Your eyes drooped and you yawned every time someone else did, the black coffee you had chugged not doing anything for you.

You’re only awoken when your professor, a stout old man with a very severe receding hairline, slams open the door to the classroom a little too hard and it hits the brick wall, creating a loud, startling bang.

He apologizes before making his introduction. He then gets out a clipboard with a sheet attached and hands it off to a girl in the front row, instructing everyone to fill in their name and school email for his role sheet.

It’s only once you’ve finished and passed the clipboard on, that you notice the guy two seats down from you looks vaguely familiar. You can’t quite put a finger on it and it bugs you.

His hair is pulled back into a messy bun and his clothes make him look like the alternative guy of your dreams back in high school. He’s got rings on almost every finger and an aura that just screams confidence.

It begins to become a problem, your inability to place this guy's face. You’ve only taken a handful of notes the entire first hour and thirty minutes into this two-hour class. Your eyes are constantly staring at him no matter how hard you try to make yourself pay attention.

Then, he raises his hand to answer one of your professor's questions. That’s when it clicks. Your pen falls from your grasp and your mouth forms an O.

“Oh my fucking god. No. It can’t be.” You think to yourself but just to be sure you take out your phone, turn the brightness and volume down, and hide it under the table. You open Twitter as fast as you can and you don’t even have to look for his user, he’s the first post on the screen.

Ed @ DungeonMaster86 was boldly displayed above a picture of the guy sitting next to you with his massive dick in his hand.

It’s a wonder you weren’t caught with how you practically choked on thin air and began furiously looking from your phone to the guy and then back to your phone.

Your stomach drops. You can’t keep watching his videos, can you? That wouldn’t be right. That would be weird, watching the porn your classmate makes.

When class is finally called to an end you pack up as quickly as you can and bolt out the door to your next class, hoping that by getting away from Ed, you'd be able to concentrate. Out of sight, out of mind.

That statement turns out to be false when he is in your next class and when you spot him in the student commons talking with another guy. It's like once you made the connection of who he was, he was everywhere.

…

Arriving back at your dorm, you throw your backpack on your desk, snatch your laptop out of it, and struggle to jump up onto your bed. Never had you been so thankful for the single dorm than this moment as your curser hovered over the bookmarked Only Fans page at the top of your screen. No roommate meant no one would see the moral dilemma you were currently losing with yourself.

‘You know him, it’s wrong to keep watching his videos.”

‘What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him though. The only way he would know you are watching is if you tell him, you aren’t going to tell him, are you?’

‘No…’

‘Then it’s okay, it’ll just add an extra element of taboo to his streams. Plus, he’d miss you in the chat.’

You sigh as the devil on your shoulder wins out once again, talking you into something you know you shouldn’t be. But hey, it feels good to be bad.

Steadily, you click on his bookmarked profile and the first thing to pop up is the live stream that is currently in session. And against your better judgment, you enter the stream.

He’s only just started, people are slowly filtering in. Ed is sitting on the edge of his bed, shirt off, and a singular, ringed hand teasing himself through his black jeans.

You breathe a sigh as he looks into the camera, eyes half-lidded, luring you in. It does the job, because in an instant your fingers are typing out a message in chat.

Princess23: hi Ed

His eyes flicker as he reads his messages, smiling as he replies to you. "Hi, Princess. How's my girl been?"

There's a bubble of excitement at the fact that he recognizes your username, even if you've been a regular in the chat for months.

Princess23: stressful… you've been distracting me.

The reply to his question is truer than he realizes.

"Aww, princess, is that so? You've been thinking of me?" He leans back on his free elbow, still groping himself with the other hand.

Princess23: yes. been thinking about your cock, how much I want it in my mouth.

It's one of the less bold comments you make but it makes you blush all the same, especially now.

"Yeah? You want me to fuck that pretty little mouth? Of yours?"

Princess23: yes please

"Mmm." He hums, fingers now fumbling with the button and zipper of his jeans.

You set your laptop to the side and start to situate yourself. Slowly taking your clothes off one by one.

Ed replies to a few more comments before announcing that it's time to start.

He leaves the screen for just a moment before coming back with something in his hand. Smirking at the camera he shows it. A flashlight in the shape of a mouth.

"This one’s for you, Princess. Since you need my dick so bad," Ed explains. He sets it on his bed before making a show of taking his jeans and boxers off.

As you watch, your hands roam your body. Fingers pinching and pulling at your sensitive nipples before trailing down. The light touch over your ribs makes you giggle. Then you rub and scratch at the inside of your thighs.

Ed's moans are now coming through your speakers, you tilt your head to watch.

"Spit on my cock baby, get it nice and wet for me." He commands before spitting in his own hand and rubbing it on his thick length.

"Your mouth looks so pretty like this, waiting, drooling for me. Need me to fill it so bad don't you, baby?"

"Yes." You answer him breathlessly, fingers teasing around your mound.

You watch and he sits back down on his bed, thighs spread, a hand cupping his balls and the other grabbing the fleshlight. He lets out a long, drawn-out moan when he inserts his cock into the fake mouth.

"Fuck baby, your mouth feels so perfect."

You can't help but whine. Allowing your fingers to finally circle your clit.

The both of you go one like this for a bit. Him fucking the fleshlight and you massaging your clit. But then you need more, more than your hand can give you. So you reach to your bedside table, stretching at an uncomfortable angle to open the drawer and pull out the purple mini wand you kept there.

The vibrations start slow and constant as you press the toy to your clit. It pulls soft, quiet noises from you as you watch your computer screen. Your mind is blank, filled only with the pretty sounds Ed is making, the way his body looks, and the pleasure between your legs.

There are no thoughts. You follow his lead. When his hand speeds up, you kick up the vibrations, when he slows down, you turn the vibrator back to the first level.

It's a rollercoaster, almost, taking your pleasure for a ride. The stream isn't even done yet when you feel that tight pull in your abdomen. The toy works you up fast.

So you stop. Taking the toy away and changing positions. On your hands and knees, you hug a pillow to your chest and prop the toy up under you, keeping it standing as you push your clit down onto it. It's not even on and it's making your hips buck in sensitivity.

You turn it back on and immediately feel the slick seeping from your cunt and running down the toy.

"Oh fuck," you cry. Your eyes locked on the screen where Ed has also changed positions.

He's got his own toy lying on the bed and he's laying over it. The way his leg and glute muscles contract as he thrusts into the toy has you memorized.

He chants, "Baby, baby, baby." Over and over. What you would give to have him chanting your name instead. Like a prearranged falling from his lips, praising you, worshiping you.

The need for him grows and so does the tightness in your core.

Reaching your hand down you turn the speed up. Your hips buck into the toy and you bury your face in the pillow. You're close.

He’s not far behind. Peering up from your pillow you can see his thrusts are sputtering. Sporadic as he draws close to his end.

“God dammit, baby. Gonna cum in this perfect mouth of yours. Fuck. Can you swallow it like the good pet you are? Hum? The good pet I know you can be?”

“Yes.” You turn up the vibrator. “Fuck, wanna swallow all of you. Please.”

The vibrations are becoming too much but you keep the toy pressed into you, hips shaking at the feeling of being overstimulated.

Without warning, you cum with a guttural cry into your pillow. Body spasming, muscles twitching. You can still hear Ed moaning and the sloppy sounds of his cock fucking the fleshlight.

With barely any energy you reach down between your heavy body and the bed and turn your toy off. You don’t even bother with your computer, too exhausted and fucked out to exit the stream. You fall asleep to the sounds of your new classmate's self-pleasure.

…

It’s October now. The semester is halfway over and you’ve still been watching Ed, or Eddie. You learned his actual name in class when your professor called role on him by name the second week.

Today you are being assigned a partner for the final project. You have your fingers crossed that Eddie won’t be chosen as your partner but as your professor calls out pairs, it seems luck is against you.

You freeze when your name is called and directly after so is Eddie’s. You groan internally. How the hell are you supposed to do this? You already have trouble concentrating when he sits two seats away, what’s going to happen when he actually interacts with you?

There isn’t much time to think about that as he abruptly moves from his seat to the one directly next to you.

“Hi.” He says, eyes bright and expectant. “I’m Eddie.” He holds out his hand for you to shake but you just stare at him. He looks at you curiously before waving his hand in front of your face. “Hello? Cat got your tongue?”

You snap out of your stupor and accept his hand, shaking it as you introduce yourself. “Sorry. I was a bit out of it.” You say, trying to play it off as you just staring off into space.

“No problem.” He smiles. “Uh, do you want to exchange numbers so we can figure out when we can work on this together?”

“Oh, yeah. Here,” You open your phone and push it to him with the messages app open. “You can text yourself.”

He does just that, even going as far as putting in his contact name as Eddie with the skull and crossbones emoji beside it.

“Great. I’ll text you when I’m free. I have work on Mondays and Thursdays, sometimes on Saturdays, but other than that I’m usually free.”

You nearly choke when you realize he’s given you his streaming schedule. “I- uh. Okay. Just text me when you can.”

"Sure thing sweetheart." He grins at you before standing, grabbing his things, and heading out of class along with the rest of the students.

You sit there for a minute, thinking. God, what are you getting yourself into?

…

You both have finally come up with meeting times that work for both of you. Tuesday and Wednesday after seven. Giving you time to get to the school library after the closing shift at your on-campus job.

It’s been two weeks of working together on this project and it’s been easier than you had originally thought to concentrate on the task at hand and keep your dirty thoughts at bay.

Right now, you are both sitting in one of the private study rooms looking at Eddie’s computer as he explains why this particular cord progression would fit with the emotions you are trying to convey in your composition.

You sigh, “Eddie, as much as I love that sound, I really don’t think it fits with the overall composition of the song. It isn’t as emotionally charged as I’d like it to be.”

“Well show me something similar to what you’re wanting.” He rakes his hand through his hair. It’s been a long night for each of you. It seems that every new section of the song you are creating for the project gives you a new challenge to work through together.

You pull out your phone and Eddie leans over to watch as you begin to type. There is a particular song you are thinking of that has the weight and emotion you are trying to convey with your own music and as you type the first letter of the song, O, the first suggestion that pops up is onlyfans/DungeonMaster.

Mortified, you slam your phone down on the table. Eddie looks at you with an eyebrow raised.

“What was that?” He asks.

“What was what?” You answer.

“Why did you slam your phone down?”

“Oh, I just forgot the title of the song.”

“Right…” He scratches under his chin and then stretches back in his chair. “Why don’t we call it quits for tonight? It’s getting late and we aren’t going to agree on anything if we’re both tired.”

A yawn suddenly comes up out of nowhere and you then realize how tired you actually are. “That sounds good to me.” You agree with Eddie and begin packing up your things. You don’t want to be with him longer than you need to be right now, even if he seemingly didn’t notice his OF user pop up on your phone screen.

“Bye Eddie.” You wave to him on your way out the door.

Faintly you hear him call out to you, giving a goodbye of his own. "See ya, sweetheart."

…

After your little slip, you began avoiding Eddie. At least in person, you still tuned into his streams. You bailed on the next three meetups you had planned, helping only through voice notes and text. Eddie said he understood when you said your boss was forcing you to stay late to deep clean.

It was Thursday now and when you saw him in class he barely looked your way and you wondered if he had seen what you hoped he had not.

You tried stopping him once your lecture was over, feeling an anxiousness creeping into your mind. Your conscience had been telling you to come clean. To explain your perversion. Let him know you watched him, that you paid to enjoy seeing him fuck into a toy or his hand.

You called out his name and reached for his arm. "Eddie."

He turns to you. "Hum?"

You take a deep breath to ground yourself. "I wanted to say sorry for not being able to come help with the project."

"It's okay, you said you had work." He replies, unbothered.

"No, Eddie, I didn't get held back at work. That was a lie."

He doesn't look all too surprised.

"I've kinda been avoiding you because- well, because of what I think you might have seen on my phone that day."

Eddie stops you there. "Can this wait until later? I've really got some errands to run before work."

"Oh, uh, yeah. Sorry to keep you Ed." You had meant it as a nickname but as it came pushing past your lips it was too late to take it back. You had never heard anyone call him that outside of his onlyfans.

You watched as his eyes widened at the name and a spark went off behind them. "I'll see you later sweetheart." The smirk he gives you isn't the usual playful one you'd seen him throw before. No, this was sinister, like he knew.

Your heart fell into your stomach as you watched him walk away, leaving you alone.

Tonight as you logged into the stream, it wasn’t to get off. It was to see if he'd show any signs of knowing you might be lurking about among the thousands of viewers.

When the video loads, Eddie is sitting in his desk chair. He's talking to the chat like he always does. There's something different in the atmosphere around him, mischief if you've placed it correctly.

He keeps replying to comments until the clock reaches 6:10. It's time for the show to begin.

"Tonight I have a very special treat for you guys." Eddie starts as he reaches over just off camera to his desk. "I've got the wand out."

The chat erupts. Eddie doesn't bring his vibrator out often, but when he does, you know it's going to be a good show for every party involved.

"I would also like to say hello to a special quest in the stream tonight." Eddie’s smirk gets bigger and your heart pounds in your chest. "Hi, sweetheart. Hope you enjoy yourself."

You feel like you've been shot. There's a ringing in your ears and your breathing has stopped.

He knows. Fuck. He definitely knows. You've never heard him say that pet name on camera. It's always babe or baby when he refers to the collective whole watching the stream. Eddie has only ever used that name with you.

Eddie starts up the vibrator, tracing it over his covered cock. He hums at the feeling, loud and long.

You clench your thighs together. You tell yourself you should stop watching but you can't bring yourself to.

'He knows." You argue with yourself.

'But he wants you to watch. Why else would he say his pet name for you? Why else would he say he hopes you enjoy yourself? He knows and he likes it.'

The devil on your shoulder makes sense again and you curse it.

So, you watch. Intently, you watch. Your eyes never leave the screen.

Eddie whimpers once he has his cock out of his pants. The tip is a deep purple/red color, showing how worked up he's gotten already.

He lets his head fall back, resting on his chair as he moves the vibrator down to his balls. He presses it into himself before dragging it up his shaft and to the head.

You feel a wetness seeping into the cotton of your panties and as his legs widen, yours press together more.

"Oh fuck. Oh fuck, sweetheart." Eddie moans, mouth open slack and eyes squeezed shut.

You can't believe he's saying your pet name and making those noises. You wonder what he's thinking about. How you'd look sucking on his cock? Maybe what it would be like to be pounding into you, watching your cunt suck him in and clench around him.

Eddie grits his teeth when he turns the speed up. One hand is holding the vibrator just at the frenulum while the other is cupping and squeezing his balls.

Your thoughts are running wild and your hips have started to rock in search of some kind of friction.

He moves his hand from his balls and begins to tug on his shaft. Deep guttural moans fill the air, and the sound of them turns you on even more.

It's not long before Eddie is bucking his cock into his hand. You can see his muscles straining in his legs as he does.

"Fuck fuck fuck- ah fuck sweetheart, you've got me so close. Fuck." His voice is pinched. You can see the exhaustion in the furrow of his eyebrows as he pressed the vibrator over his tip, the change in placement making his hips shudder. “God, I’m gonna cum. The thought of you is gonna make me cum, sweetheart.”

Hearing his breathy, deep, timber of a voice say that the thought of you was going to do him in had you thinking you might just cum too. No touching required, just Eddie and his beautiful noises.

In a matter of seconds, Eddie is choking on his words as his balls go taut. He lets out a drawn-out grunt and ropes of cum begin to spurt out over his chest, covering him like a painting. He doesn’t even bother to clean himself up before he looks into the camera and says good night, chuckling when he mentions your particular pet name again. Then, the screen goes dark.

…

Fridays are slow in the used bookshop you work at. Especially after 4:30. No one had been inside in maybe an hour? Your boss left early, leaving you alone to close down at 6. For the past fifteen minutes, you’ve been putting misplaced books back where they belong, sweeping, and tidying up anything else you see.

Because of the usual slowness, you have your headphones on. The music isn’t loud but it does drown out the sound of the bell chiming as someone enters the building. You are unaware of the person creeping up behind you until you are suddenly turned around and corralled against the bookshelf.

You let out an alarmed screech only for your mouth to be covered by a big, warm hand. Your headphones fall to the floor beside you as they are accidentally knocked off your head. You hear his voice then, whispering in your ear.

“Hi, Sweetheart.”

“Eddie-” You heave, relieved it wasn’t someone coming to kill you in cold blood.

“Did you enjoy my show last night?” He leans back, caressing a strand of hair away from your face.

You shake your head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” You deny. Even after you had told yourself you would come clean to him, granted that was before you knew he knew your secret.

“You don’t know, do you? I think you do why else would my account have popped up on your search suggestions the other day?”

Keeping your mouth shut, you refuse to answer.

Eddie takes your chin between his fingers and moves your face to the side as he leans into you. His lips tickle the shell of your ear as he speaks again. “So… Which one of my subs are you? Hum?”

Your mouth opens but nothing comes out.

Eddie tuts. “Don’t get all shy on me. Tell me. Now.” His tone is dominating. It’s one thing to hear it over a computer speaker, it's another when you hear it in person. His presence alone had your knees knocking.

“I-I,” You can't help but stutter. “It’s Princess23.” You shamefully tell him your user, eyes looking anywhere but his.

He sucks in a breath. “Oh, Princess. That was you?”

He forces you to look at him and you nod your head.

You hate that he’s making you look him in the eye, but you can see what’s swirling around deep within them. Desire, lust, dominance, but nothing mean. Nothing hurtful.

As you watch him, you catch the minute changes in his expression. His jaw clenches and his eyes darken, a hunger taking over as he stares you down.

“I can give you a private show if you want, baby.” He leans back in. “Right here,” He nipps at your ear lobe. “Right now.”

“Eddie, we can’t… We’re at my work.”

He looks around you, head swiveling to peer down both ends of the aisle. “It’s fine Sweetheart, no one’s here but us, right?”

“Yes, but-”

He cuts you off with a finger over your lips.

“Then let me show you why the real thing is so much better than what you’ve seen online.” He doesn’t give you time to think before his lips are on yours.

They are soft, almost pillow-like as they mold against yours. His tongue slithers its way into your mouth, tasting you, he moans when he does.

To you, he tastes like menthol cigarettes and black coffee with the faintest hint of weed. It’s intoxicating, and addicting. You’ve only had one taste and now you won't be able to function without him.

His hand cups your cheek and pulls you closer. Your arms wrap around his neck, fingers tugging at his hair. His body keeps you pinned to the shelves and he spreads your legs by inserting one of his own between them.

With him being so much taller than you, it only takes you barely bending your knees for you to make contact with his thigh. You are thankful when he doesn’t stop you from humping his leg. The friction of you rubbing yourself against him has the seam of your pants pressing against your clit. It’s a wonderful pressure that leaves your mind blank.

When he pulls away, you follow, not wanting his mouth to leave yours. Eddie chuckles when you give a needy whine.

"It's okay baby, I'll give you what you want." He coos. "But first, since you wanna get yourself off, you've got to make yourself cum on my leg."

You pout. "But Eddie…"

"Ah ah, don't complain sweet girl, you'll only make it take longer. Now get to work."

You do as he says, rolling your hips with purpose against him. He doesn't help you at all, he only provides support and kissed along your jaw every few seconds as he watches you work.

It's harder than you thought it would be. The layers of denim dulled the sensations yet added to the tension your clit felt as the fabric rubbed against it.

"Mmm, fuck." You gasp, fingers gripping onto Eddie’s shoulders. "M'so close. Eddie, I'm so close."

He smiles at you and he gives your body gentle touches. "That's it, Princess. Let go. Being such a good girl for me."

You moan loudly at his praise.

"That right sweet girl, use me to get yourself off. That's it, keep going."

His words are spurring you on, your hips, although losing their rhythm and steadiness, keep going strong. Then, you feel it. That tautness in your tummy and the ache in your bones. You are so close.

"Please, Eddie. Ah- so close. Need more." Your words are short and your hips move faster.

"What is it, baby? What do you need?" Eddie asks, willing to give you just a little.

"Kiss me again," you beg.

He obliges. Taking your face in his hands and practically devouring you.

The canter of your hips stalls as your body shudders against him. A sticky wetness can now be felt, uncomfortably, between your legs.

"So good for me." He praises.

You can feel how hard he is, his needy cock prominently pressing into your thigh.

"Wanna feel you. Eddie please, I need to feel you." You're practically begging him to fuck you now.

"Yeah, sweet girl? You need me to stretch that pretty pussy on my dick? Make you feel so good, baby." He trailed his kiss down to your neck, stopping only to suck and nip at the sensitive skin.

You nod frantically. "Yes, yes Eddie. Need you inside me."

Hands rush to unbutton pants, fingers caress bare skin, breaths hitch. You tug at Eddie's pants impatiently as he pulls your own down. The sudden feeling of cold air hitting the pool of slick between your thighs.

You are both a whirlwind of arms and clothes and a few books falling from their shelf. Eddie’s fingers make their way to your center, exploring between your folds.

You throw your head back, cracking it on the shelf above. "Ow," You moan out in pain.

"Careful there, Sweetheart." He gives you another kiss and moves his unoccupied hand to cradle your head.

The pain is instantly forgotten when two of his thick fingers circle your clit before pushing into your entrance.

"Mmmm- god." He feels so good inside you, fingers curling into your walls. The wet slick of him moving fills the stagnant air of the bookstore.

"You're sucking me in, baby. Pussy squeezing me so tight." Eddie rests his forehead on yours, his breath mixing with your own. "Can't wait to feel you around my cock."

Gasping in response, you buck your hips up into his hand. "More-"

It doesn't take much convincing for Eddie to pull his hand from between your legs and position his hard length at your entrance. Slowly he slips inside, meeting no resistance with how wet you are.

Eddie pushes into you, cock stretching you out farther than you think you've ever been before. His one hand rests on the back of your head while the other pushes your shaking hand out of his way as he goes to press it against your neck.

You grasp his arm, nails scratching his skin as he chokes you.

"Oh- oh, Eddie. Fuck me." You cry, cunt fluttering around him.

Your words are music to his ears. His pace begins steadily. In and out at a lazy, leisurely speed. Then he picks it up, hips bucking faster and faster.

He's giving it all to you. Everything you've dreamed of since you saw him on your Twitter all those months ago.

The head of his cock is repeatedly hitting that one spot inside of you that makes your toes curl. You can’t keep yourself up. The feelings coursing through you have your knees buckling and Eddie does a good job at catching your weight.

He stops his movements to try and situate you. “Come on, baby, gotta stand up.”

You shake your head. “I can’t, s’too much.” Your heart is pounding in your chest, if you even tried to stand you would just fall again. “There's a couch.” You point to the back of the store. “It’s in the break room.”

Eddie grunts as he hoists you up in his arms and follows your directions.

The couch is old and made of leather. It is cold on your skin as Eddie lays you down and you shiver as he rips your pants and underwear from around your ankles. Never would you have ever imagined being naked from the waist down in your work break room.

In contrast to the cool leather, Eddie’s hands are searing hot. He grips the back of your knees, picking your legs up and spreading you out. You’re almost folded in half.

“Jesus fucking christ. You. Are. Beautiful.” He enunciated every word. The complement has you keening and clenching around nothing. “Fuck, look at that pretty cunt. She’s gaping for me.” Eddie smiles, eyes flickering to yours before looking back to your most intimate part.

You let out a wonton gasp when he spits, a glob of it falling right atop your parted slit. Eddie takes a hand away and grabs his cock. He rubs the tip through your folds, giving your clit a heavy tap tap tap before entering you again and grabbing the back of your knee again.

Eddie wastes no time in pistoning his hips into yours. The new angle gives him free range of movement to fuck you fast and deep. The skin of his thighs makes a sharp slapping sound when he connects with your ass, it sets the rhythm for the song of your shared moans.

“Pull your shirt up.” He commands and you do as he says. Lifting your shirt up and over your breasts. Eddie lets out an irritated grunt at the sight of your bra. “That too.” He puffs out and you pull it up as far as it will allow.

Your breasts bounce as Eddie fucks you mercilessly into the couch. His eyes are shamelessly trained on them. “Fucking hell, Princess. Gimmie our hands.”

You reach out for him and he grabs your wrists, guiding you to hold your legs back like he had been doing. With the newfound freedom of his hands, he extends them out to play with your tits. He pinches and tugs at your nipples, making you moan in pleasure as he continues his assault. His thrusts become faster, harder, more desperate. You know he's close and you can't take much more either.

“Eddie… Ah- Eddie-” You babble out his name. You wiggle under his hold and the harsh prodding of his cock into your cervix. The strings of another orgasm are being pulled tight.

He growls. “I know baby, I know. Fucking cum for me. Cum on my cock.”

Tears well up in your eyes and begin to overflow. Your body writhes, back bowing, muscles straining. You’re on the precipice.

Eddie sees how close you are and moves a hand down between your legs, circling his thumb over your slick-covered clit.

“Oooh- Oh fuck!” You scream. “Shit shit shit shitshitshitshit…. Ah!”

“Louder.” He moans. “Want the whole town to hear you sweet girl.”

“Eddie! Oh, I’m there. I’m fucking there.” You cry, fat tears rolling down your cheeks as you let go. A scream erupts from your throat. Even in your ecstasy, you can feel Eddie’s tempo shift. He’s losing speed.

“Goddammit. I cumming too.” Eddie whimpers, sinking into you fully. His cum fills you up and you can fill you as it runs down your ass as he pulls out.

Your body is twitching as he moves you to lay more fully on the couch. He doesn’t follow though. No. He sinks to his knees and before your foggy mind can even comprehend it, he attaches his mouth to your pussy.

You are pliant under his touch, unable to resist. His tongue explores you and you moan in pleasure. He’s lapping up the mixture of his cum and your slick, humming at the taste the whole time.

You choke back a sob when his tongue flicks repeatedly over your clit before he begins to suck on the already abused bud. “Eddie, please.” Reaching down you tug on his hair but he doesn’t move. “Ed-” He starts shaking his head, burying himself in your pussy.

Another orgasm is quickly approaching. Your breathing quickens and you can feel your body trembling as he works you up, sending you higher and higher until you can’t take it anymore. Your orgasm hits you like a wave, and your body spasms in pleasure. He doesn't stop, continuing his ministrations until you finally come down from your high once more.

“Christ. You taste so good.” He says as he crawls up your spent body. Draping himself over you he places kiss after tender kiss all over your face. “Did so good for me. I’m so proud of you.”

“Yeah?” You whisper.

“Mhum. So proud.” He grins, the light of the room catching in the wetness covering him from nose to chin.

Eddie cuddles into you more and your eyes close. He’s exhausted you. You both lay there in silence, content in each other's presence. Eddie eventually falls asleep, his breathing slow and steady. You don’t have the heart or the energy to wake him. You stay awake, just barely, still in awe of what happened.

It feels like hours have gone by when you finally do shake Eddie, calling out to him softly. He stirs, grumbling as he looks up at you.

“Eds, baby, I need to lock up.”

He only rests his head back down between your breasts. You shake him again.

“Eddie.” You say it a bit more sternly. “Get up and I’ll let you take me back to yours.”

That gets his attention and he’s up and dressing himself in an instant. You on the other hand are slower, feeling the prominent ache between your legs. He has to help you pull your panties and jeans back on.

He has to help you close the store as well, your legs weak and not trusted to hold up your body weight without crumbling to the ground.

Never had you thought this was how this would end. Sitting in the passenger seat of your favorite camboy's car as he drives you to his apartment, grinning like the Cheshire cat as you both think of all the fun things you’ll get up to. Round two was bound to be wilder than the first.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #joseph quinn #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn smut #stranger things x reader #stranger things smut #stranger things fic #female reader #camboy!eddie #camboy!eddie munson #soft!dom eddie

12K notes · View notes

milktiicup · 12 days ago

Note

do you write for mr scarletella? :) if so, may i request jealous scarlet who makes attempts to get closer to reader (court them) after seeing how close they are to mr crawling

persistence is key

That creepy smile grows on his face. "You like me," he says like it’s a fact. “What the- what?” You share a glance with Mr. Crawling. “You slow in head?”

‧₊ ᵎᵎ 🌊 ⋅ ˚✮ yeah idk, lowkey some enemies to (potential) lovers, i have no idea how to characterise mr scarletella, but i tried my best and then i kinda got a little too invested in trying to spin the fic the way i wanted and wrote a little more than usual... sorry if ur disappointed, i tried to keep the whole courting/jealous thing subtle but still kinda there >w<

warnings. canon typical violence >w<

You’re not sure when you met the man in red, but you know he’s stalking you now. And it’s getting seriously old. Unlike the ghosts and monsters you’ve had the pleasure of meeting, this one doesn’t know how to take a hint.

Your first unofficial encounter with him is something that sent shivers down your spine, tucked away under Mr. Crawling’s arm and clutching onto his kimono for dear life. The second encounter was much worse- separated from your other worldly protector and left running down an almost comically long and creepy hallway where he just magically appears in front of you.

You don’t even think twice before you smash the crowbar into his form with all your strength, but it was futile the way he flickered? in front of your own eyes and left a weird moist residue on your weapon. You scowled, and rudely pointed a finger at him- “What the hell’s your problem, dude?”

In response, he leaned in close- so close that your nose nearly touched his. The tilt of his scarlet umbrella cast a dark shadow over you, and as he peered down, one black eye appeared from behind his hair, locking onto you with a soul-piercing stare. You felt stripped bare under that gaze, vulnerable and exposed, like he was seeing straight into your core, uncovering forgotten memories, pieces of yourself even you couldn’t remember. He smiled—a slow, unsettling curl of his lips that chilled you to your bones—and said something you didn’t understand. It sounded like a question, maybe, though you couldn’t be sure. You didn’t care. You spat out a few choice words and swung again, hard.

At least for a while, he left you alone.

Has it been days, weeks, or even months since you’ve got here? It was difficult to keep track, and it was difficult to even care anymore. The place was, without a doubt, growing on you by the day. Even if it was filled with hostile creatures that wanted to eat you sometimes, and when your skin started to get discoloured and you had the inhuman itch that just could never be satisfied- it wasn’t that bad! Hell, you even made a few friends and claimed a comfortable bed in some random room you found.

However, just as you finally started settling into the place, you had your third encounter with Mr. Scarletella.

It started with a dream- from before you came to this world. That man in red… A test of courage, your friends called it- spending a night in those so-called ‘Ghost Apartments.’ Your friends hadn’t known it then, but you were quite familiar with the building for reasons, and set yourself up in a cosy corner and the night was supposed to sail smoothly.

A rumour had surfaced- a tale of a ruin that appears only on rainy days, where you’re warned never to give your name to the figure you’ll meet there. That figure, they said, would take your soul. At the end of a dim hallway, standing silently under a scarlet umbrella, he was waiting. The man in red, eyes hidden beneath his hair. He was watching you. Or was he? Somehow you could feel his stare even if you couldn’t see it.

You woke up, heart pounding, muttering a string of curses. You groan, rubbing a hand down your face. The discoloration of your skin hadn’t gotten any worse, but it hadn’t gotten better, either. The longer you stayed here, the more the place left its mark. As long as you remained relatively human, and the only thing this place took from you was your memory, you weren’t too fussed. How could you possibly miss something from the other world when all you could remember was smashing a crowbar into someone’s head?

You swing your legs over the bed, feet touching the cold ground. The chill sent a jolt up your spine, and it was almost too tempting to get back under the cosy, warm sheets. You stretch your arms above your head, bones cracking and popping into place and mumble a hazy ‘Good morning’ to Mr. Crawling that should have been in the other bed. Silence wasn’t something you were used to around him- and you whip around so fast that you gave yourself whiplash.

Cursing, you grab your crowbar and stumble out of the room with a hand rubbing your tender neck. You didn’t need to look far- you could see Mr. Crawling at the end of the hallway.

And Mr. Scarletella.

The man in red was bent over to be face to face with Mr. Crawling, all-too-familiar sinister smirk on his face. Mr. Crawling didn’t look so happy either, and they seemed to be having an argument. You stomp your feet as you make your way over to the two, hand tightening on your crowbar as you ready yourself to fight literal static if it meant leaving your best friend in here alone.

��You,” you scowl, pointing your weapon at him. “You problem?”

Mr. Crawling scurries to your side, a hand gripping onto your clothes. “Dangerous… should get away!” he urges, tugging.

You shush him with a pat on his head with your free hand and continue to glare at that menace.

“You like them?” is the only thing Mr. Scarletella asks with a tilt of his head, smile seemingly disappearing into thin air.

Glancing at Mr. Crawling, his face covered in worry- you feel the familiar itch of your skin. You take a breath, going through all the reasons why you can’t actually kill Mr. Scarletella, and loosen the grip on your crowbar. From what you can sense right now, he’s not actually that much of a threat. Just a nuisance that can’t seem to leave you alone.

“Them friend,” you reply, deadpan. What type of question was that anyway? This guy was a freak.

That creepy smile grows on his face. "You like me," he says like it’s a fact.

“What the- what?” You share a glance with Mr. Crawling. You turn back to Mr. Scarletella. “You slow in head?”

The smile on Mr. Scarletella’s face falters just for a moment, but it quickly returns, more chilling than before. He stands there, towering above you. Despite your snarky comment, he doesn’t look offended- no, it’s almost as if he’s intrigued by your resistance.

You tighten your hold on the crowbar. “You problem.” You frown. “Go away.”

Instead, his grin deepens, his head tilting at such an unnatural angle that you can feel your stomach churn. It’s as though he’s studying you, savouring every little bit of your discomfort. Surely, turning your head at that angle is gonna hurt… You audibly gulp.

“Problem later,” Mr. Scarletella says, and with an unsettling flicker, he’s gone.

The next time you saw him after that was in less tense circumstances. It was unsettling after whatever that was with his coy little ‘Problem later’, you weren’t going to worry too much about it for the time being. You decided you’ll worry about it when the problem occurs, which probably wasn’t the smartest of ideas you had.

The earth shakes, and you’re completely cut off from Mr. Crawling. Wandering down hallways, resting in random rooms- you never really felt alone. You turn a corner, dizziness growing by the minute, and pause.

“You again,” you sigh. You don’t even bother lifting your crowbar at him. “What do you want?”

He appears directly in front of you, causing you to stumble back a few steps at just how tall he is. He bends down to your eye level, umbrella covering both of you once again. “Give name?” he asks.

“No. Go away.”

“Give name. Teach.”

“Go away!”

“Teach name.”

“Fine! My name’s… you pause. You didn’t actually have to give him your real name, did you? “...Silvair, or something.”

He gets closer to your face. You take another few steps back, but not before you get the smell of blood and dampness off of him. It takes all the willpower in your body to not scrunch your face up.

“Wrong name.”

“So what? It’s a name.” You scoff. Mr. Scarletella is silent, eerily so, and you can feel his piercing gaze stare through you once more. You awkwardly avoid eye contact, and clear your throat. “I’m… gonna go now, okay?” You turn on your feet and only make it a few steps.

“You teach them name?”

Them? Mr. Crawling? That guy doesn’t even understand the concept of his own name! The scowl feels as if it’s permanently etched onto your face. You whip around, pointing another disapproving finger into his red raincoat. It feels fuzzy… and wet. It grosses you out, almost. More than Mr. Gap’s greasy hair.

“No,” you hiss. “I don’t even remember my own name.” He stares, silently. “Me,” you point to yourself, “not know name.”

“...Not know name?” he echoes. What you said has him lost, you could see that.

Just like that, he’s gone again. You don’t see him for a few more days, nor do you find Mr. Crawling. You spend your time aimlessly wandering, knowing eventually you’ll most likely find someone you know in a friendly manner, and not pondering if every ghost you come across is a friend or a foe.

You awake promptly to a sound of a chainsaw revving. As if it was a morning routine, you stumble to your feet, grasping for your crowbar that should have, without a doubt, been next to you… only to grasp at air. Okay, now you are starting to feel a little panic.

Through trial and error, you knew that whatever wound you receive will heal, with time- but it doesn’t mean you were looking forward to being maimed to shreds with a chainsaw!

“Hehe.”

You froze, heart racing, and slowly turn around. There that wretched little being was- the stupid little fucker in the goat costume. The ‘Hooded Child’, the thing was termed. In it’s stupid little fucking hands, it held you handy-dandy crowbar that’s been with you thick and thin. Your stomach churns.

You gulp and face back towards the open doorway- a long black abyss, stretching on and on, with only the haunting bounce of that chainsaw, crawling along the walls. That chainsaw that was about to mince you in a matter of seconds. That chainsaw that was approaching you rapidly.

Frantically, you grab the nearest thing you could reach for. A metal chair. You wince. Probably not the best thing you could’ve grabbed, but it’ll have to do. It’s a matter of- well, technically life or life, but still! You could feel the sweat on your palms, the adrenaline pumping through your veins and your heart hammering through your ribcage.

You lift the chair above your head as the monster comes into view- a tall, masked being in a strapless floor length black dress… wait, why was she dressed so sexy? Your surprise leads you to hesitate as she rushes at you with her machine. You let out a yelp as you whack the chair down in front of you, metal clanging echoing throughout the room.

Complete silence. Not even the sound of that chainsaw. Not even the sound of metal.

“Huh?” You blink, once, twice, thrice at the sliced up body of that creature, blood splatter on your clothes. There was blood even on the ceiling, too… You drop the chair in utter confusion. “What the hell?”

“Help you.”

“You again!” You spin on your feet, meeting the dull eyes of Mr. Scarletella. You’re about to huff and puff this guy into next week, but pause. You leave your accusing finger down by your side. This guy just saved you from that thing. You avert your eyes and scuff your feet against the ground with a cough into your fist. “Uhm… Thank you.”

Wow, this guy really has an intense stare… Way to make things unnecessarily intense and awkward.

“Protect you,” he says. “You like me?”

“Take me out to dinner first, man!” you exclaim, crossing your arms over your chest. “Not like. You not bad. Not good. You okay.”

Mr. Scarletella dons an out of place frown that even makes you feel a little uneasy. “Them protect you. You like them.”

“Them friend,” you stress, finally meeting his gaze once more. You kind of regret it. This guy doesn’t blink. “You…” Weird? Off-putting? Freaky? “...unsafe.”

“Me safe. Protect you. Help you.”

You sigh. “Unsafe to friend.”

He just stands there, holding that stupid umbrella, with that unblinking stare. You blink at him and squint your eyes. His facial expression doesn’t change. Completely unfazed. You can’t even tell if he’s confused, or upset, or whatever he could possibly be. Your breath hitches as his unsettlingly familiar smile returns.

He tilts his head. “Me good. Me show you.”

Then he’s gone again. You can finally breathe. Your heart is still pumping. You slide against the wall, landing on the ground and resting your head against your knees. You clutch at your raincoat with shaking fists.

Mr. Scarletella - you knew he was meant to be dangerous, but he just saved you a whole lot of pain. Even if he was still a threat to Mr. Crawling, and hounds you for your name, asks you weird questions, could he honestly be as bad as you originally thought he was? You can’t deny that he did save you… but his presence is more dangerous than comforting. He’s both a threat and an aid, but never clear on which he’ll be at any given moment. One thing is for certain, however, and that was that he was persistent for your attention. Wait…

Oh my good God, does he like you?

“Heh…” Chuckling, you tuck your hair behind your ear. “I am pretty cute.”

You stand, and decide it’s better to think about while on the move back to Mr. Crawling. You reach for your crowbar, and curse. Of course. The Hooded Child took it with them when they disappeared when Mr. Stalkerella showed up. Well, you sigh as you drag the chair behind you as you exit the room, at least you have a temporary weapon, for now…

Making it back to Mr. Crawling didn’t take that much longer. He greets you, frown on his face and long arms wrapping around your waist. “Me worried! You gone long time!”

“Long time,” you agree, bending down to his level. You ruffle his hair, a smile finally sliding onto your face. It quickly turns into a pout as you wave your empty hands. “Lost attack tool.”

Mr. Crawling points to the spilled blood on your raincoat with a high pitched noise. You sheepishly giggle, and gesture to the chair behind you. He tilts his head, processing, before letting out his all familiar laugh. You sigh in content, glad to see a friendly face and let him pet you for a while.

He stops petting you, and turns around. “Attack tool!” he smiles wide, your trusty weapon in his grey hands. “Them give me.”

“Them?” you repeat, taking the crowbar, twisting and turning it in your grasp. “Them who?”

“Them!”

Curse this damn language.

“Mr. Crawling,” you hold his face in your hands, “what look like?”

His smile falters, and if you could see his eyebrows, you’d imagine they would be furrowed. He takes a moment to think, and points to the blood on your raincoat, and attempts to imitate holding an…

Umbrella.

You stare. And stare. And stare. You can’t even begin to process what Mr. Crawling just said to you, debating maybe you actually were growing crazy and it was finally time to bounce out of this place- andddd of course, you notice a red flicker at the end of the hallway. You tilt your head past Mr. Crawling.

That scarlet umbrella tilts slightly, and just for a split second, you catch a glimmer of that piercing dark eye staring straight at you, as if watching every nerve fire under your skin. You can see his smile from here, as if it was a smug ‘I told you so’ but it was actually a ‘Me show you.’

Well… Mr. Scarletella did show you. And now you were just left, to put it simply, utterly fucking confused. It just drilled the narrative down deeper of the possibility that he did like you. So… what do you do now? Do you apologise for trying to smash his head in with a crowbar? For being so rude?

How do you even apologise for something you don’t even remotely feel sorry for in the first place? Mr. Scarletella was creepy! …At least, he was kind of sweet. Not really- his intentions were anything but kind. But still!

You bite the inside of your cheek. …Is it wrong to feel a little flattered? There’s barely any romance in this place anyway!

In your world, things are either friend or foe, monster or protector. But Mr. Scarletella? He exists in some in-between place. Dangerous yet helpful. It’s as if he’s deliberately defying every category you try to force him into. And now, the memory of his unsettling question repeats in your mind- “You like me?” - echoing in your thoughts with a kind of twisted innocence that gnaws at you, a bit more with each repetition.

Mr. Crawling gives a soft, anxious chirp, tugging you slightly, drawing you out of your thoughts. He’s still eyeing the red figure warily. He points. “Them… dangerous? Them good?”

“Not know,” you mumble, defeated. “Good, maybe.” You stand to your feet, crowbar falling off of your lap and clanging onto the floor. “Me, them, talk. You stay.”

Mr. Crawling makes a noise of protest, hand reaching out to grasp at your clothes. You reassuringly ruffle his hair once more, and make your way to the end of the hallway. You don’t hear him follow behind you.

Face to face, you stand in front of the smiling Mr. Scarletella. He stares down at you, unblinking, unmoving.

“Can’t give name,” you remind him.

He leans his face down, ever so close. “Me like you.” A pause. “Want you.” Another pause. “You like me. Give me many human. Give me many blood.”

Well… In your defence, you didn’t know your corpse dumping ground was Mr. Scarletella’s domain.

“Getting in over your own head…” you grumble, and lift up your hand. You pinch your fingers together. “Little like you. Okay? LITTLE.” You wonder if this guy’s smile could get any bigger, geez… “You want big like?” You point your index towards him. “Be normal. Be good. Understand?”

“Normal? “Good?” He seems to chew over the words like they’re a foreign delicacy, his head tilting at that unnatural angle again. “For… you?”

“You good,” you waggle your finger at him, “I teach name. Maybe. If I can remember it…”

There’s an unnatural, prolonged silence in the air. You’re beginning to feel the awkward tension once more, but your resolve refuses you to break the unblinking eye contact you keep with him.

And finally, he speaks once more, agreeing to your proposition, “You teach good, you teach name.”

You hold back your groan- whatever this dance you two were playing, was going to take a long time to progress.

But at least something is better than nothing, right?

#homicipher #mr scarletella #homicipher hcs #mr scarletella x reader #mr scarletella hcs #homicipher x reader

2K notes · View notes

tojicide · 20 days ago

Text

DOCTOR, DOCTOR! ☆ ZAYNE LI.

summary. when you’re feeling under the weather, doctor zayne is quick to prescribe you with what he knows will have you feeling better in no time.

warnings. fem!reader. nsfw. smut, fluff. pet names. boyfriend!zayne. praise, masturbation, fingering, oral sex (f!receiving), cockwarming, unprotected p in v, mirror sex, creampie, aftercare. the rocking chair is featured.

wc. 3.9k

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ✧ masterlist | request

Zayne is an intelligent man, that much was evident, but for the first time in his career, he’s absolutely stumped.

Why is that, you may ask? Well for starters, you, his beloved girlfriend, have been a bit distant lately. Not cold, not rude, but distant.

With his busy schedule, he didn’t see much of you during the day, and by the time he got home, you were usually fast asleep. It was easy to think that he was simply missing you and that was why his brain had led him to feel this rift between the two of you, but alas, he couldn’t be more wrong.

This entire ordeal truly got him thinking…

He saw a few tissues in the trash bin—perhaps you were catching the common cold. But when he prepared a spoonful of bitter medicine and a glass of water to wash it down, he was met with your denial that you masked with a smile.

If it wasn’t that, what could it be? Zayne asked the same question.

Maybe you were stressed out because of work. He finds that to be probable, so he made it a point to get home as early as he could last night to give you a massage after he cooked you your favorite meal.

You seemed to be soothed by his touch, murmuring a few ‘ah’s and ‘ooh’s of satisfaction as his skilled hands threaded into the tense muscles of your shoulders. Once you were at ease with your head resting back on his chest, he gave you a tender kiss on your cheek before he turned in for the night.

Call him overly analytical, but when it took you awhile to join him, he had a feeling that the massage hadn’t quite accomplished what he hoped it would have.

His mind then started to wander even further. Had he forgotten to run the dishwasher? No, of course not. Had he forgotten to pay the utility bill? Absolutely not, he took his credit score very seriously, and a late payment was simply unlike him.

Had he forgotten to put the toilet seat down…? Okay, he definitely did, but that couldn’t be why you were acting so unlike yourself.

And then, as he sat at his desk with a fresh plate of food in front of him, it dawned on him. When was the last time you orgasmed? More importantly, when was the last time he’d given you one himself?

It was almost inhuman how fast he jumped up from his office chair to inform Yvonne that he would be out for the remainder of the afternoon, because oh was he feeling downright horrible.

He was back at your shared apartment in no time, pushing the door open and setting his shoes in the nook positioned in the entryway.

(He had a bad habit of trucking on the hardwood floors without removing his shoes, and considering he was already on your shit-list, he made sure to do it now.)

“Honey?” he calls out to you, making his way towards your closed bedroom door. “Sweetheart, I’m home.”

Zayne’s eyebrows raise as he glances around, finding that your apartment looks rather empty and desolate. “I’d like to apologize. I know I haven’t been present for you lately and—”

And then, he hears something. Something that makes him stop in his tracks. His eyebrow quirks up with intrigue as he presses his ear to the door, listening in.

He’d know those beautiful sounds anywhere, even if it’d been awhile since he had lured them out of you himself. Your moans were muffled by the door, but they were enough to make his cock stiffen up beneath the fabric of his black slacks.

“God… please,” you muttered, clearly out of breath and in frustration. “Damn it!”

Behind the door, you were resting on his side of the bed, hoping that his scent would be enough to make you finish. Your fingers toyed with your clit as you desperately tried to get yourself off, but nothing seemed to be working.

Zayne was practiced in a way that only he could be. He knew female anatomy better than you did, but more importantly, he took pride in learning yours. He knew what you liked and what you didn’t, what made you crumble and cry out.

And now that you’ve gone without him for so long, you’re finding yourself more pent up than ever. A huff of frustration leaves your lips as you try again, again, and again—only to be edged with your release without reaping the benefits of it.

He exhales, twisting the doorknob as he cracks the door open. To no surprise, there you were, sitting on his side of the bed with your hand slipped beneath the fabric of your panties.

You hardly looked horrified at the sight of him, more so desperate if anything. He pulls his tie loose as he takes a few steps towards the bed, his knees finding the plush comforter as he sinks onto his stomach.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he murmurs, almost sounding sympathetic. He runs his hands over your thighs as he hikes them over his shoulders. “Let me see.”

You roll your eyes. “Who’s to say that you deserve to?”

Zayne gives you a look that you know all too well, one that silently reads ‘girl, are you serious?’ And no, you aren’t serious by any means, so you nod your head to give him your permission.

He pulls the damp fabric of your panties to the side, his gaze slimming as he sets eyes on your cunt for the first time in what feels like forever. (It’s only been two weeks at most, but you’re both awfully dramatic.)

“I’m sorry,” he speaks into your heat, almost as if he were apologizing to both you and your pussy. He raises his eyes to yours as he flattens his soft tongue to swipe along your wet folds. He moans at the mere taste of you, his grip on your thighs tightening as he pulls you even closer to him. “I had no idea. Truly, baby, I didn’t.”

You whine at the sensation of his gentle voice rumbling against your sensitive skin, your hand delving into his hair. “No idea about—hah—what?”

Zayne takes a moment to reply. His mouth is certainly distracted with the way it’s buried into your soaking cunt while his tongue laps at your inner lips, his nose brushing against your clit with each movement he makes.

“I hadn’t realized I was neglecting your needs,” he clarifies, cracking his eyes open just enough to look at you with hollowed cheeks as he sucks onto your sensitive bundle of nerves.

He releases it with a ‘pop’, his tongue quickly replacing his lips as he curls it in up and down motions that stimulate you in ways you can’t even comprehend. “My girl is too sweet to be treated like that,” he whispers, thumbing at your folds to give himself better access.

One of his hands continues to rub your thighs for some sort of comfort for his behavior, and soon, the other reaches up to take your hand in his own. You squeeze onto it immediately, finding the gesture to be much appreciated.

“So, you… mmh— you remember I exist after all?” Your words are meant as a joke, but he doesn’t seem to consider them as such with the way he presses a kiss to your clit before pulling away.

“Honey, I’m being serious,” he murmurs, resting his cheek on your thigh. “I’d never want to make it seem like I don’t consider you and your feelings.”

He gives your hand a squeeze before he smiles, adding an earnest, “and truth be told, I’m rather surprised that I’ve gone so long without tasting this pretty pussy of yours,” before he delves right back into eating you out like a man starved.

Zayne hasn’t noticed it until now, but he truly was starving, and not for the lunch that he left on his desk back at Akso Hospital. He wasn’t much for alcohol, but getting drunk on your pussy was one of his favorite pastimes, and he’ll never go this long without doing it again.

He was a man of science, and even then, he would never be able to explain the chemical imbalance that tasting you set off in his brain. Sure, medically speaking, the preoptic area of the brain is what triggers an erection, but what you did to him was far beyond that.

It was safe to say that Zayne was almost as in love with your pussy as he was with you, and judging by the way he’s making out with it right now, you have no doubts about that.

Your head tilts back against the headboard as he reintroduces his middle finger to your entrance, feeling the way your walls clench around it.

“Mm, quite sensitive, are we?” he lowly asks, licking a few swipes at your clit before adding, “Is it because you’ve been using your own hand for quite some time now?”

It’s almost pathetic how quickly you nod, your fingers grasping onto his dark locks as he presses an open-mouthed kiss onto your folds. “It’s the only choice I had,” you whine.

(He makes a mental note to give you his credit card so that you can purchase anything and everything you’ll need in order to satisfy yourself whenever he isn’t around. The fact that he hasn’t thought of that sooner is a problem in and of itself.)

He nods in return, though the movement only invites him to make hard licks at your pussy, collecting your slick on his tongue. His cock is rock hard, but he’ll get his turn soon enough.

Even if his turn never came, he’d be more than happy with this alone—that much was incredibly evident.

“I know it, my love,” he whispers, pressing a kiss on your sensitive clit as he slides another finger into your hole. “Is this alright?”

Your thighs tense up at the sensation, but you nod, tilting your head down to look at him. With your permission, he continues, his tongue swiping at you while his fingers fuck you into oblivion.

When you tilt your head back, he squeezes your thigh. “Eyes down here, I need you to watch closely.”

A sharp whine escaped you as his mouth somehow latched onto your pussy in the time it took you to look at him. He pulls off of you to speak, his lips coated with your arousal. “There will be times like this in which I won’t be able to give you what you need, and as much as it kills me, your pleasure can’t be limited to the times I can have you like this.”

You tilt your head. “What… what do you mean?”

Zayne nods his head, urging you to tune in. He curls fingers inside of you, hitting your g-spot with each push. “Hm. I suppose I can teach you how to touch yourself a bit more effectively. Would you like that?”

Your hand goes flying to his shoulder as you nod, your teeth pressing down onto your bottom lip. “Hah… mhm.”

He nods, grasping onto your hand. He presses a few kisses on your knuckles as he guides it to your clit, helping you swirl the pads of your fingers around it in smooth, moan-earning circles. “Very good. You look happier with me already.”

“You’re still a jerk,” you huff.

“I’m sure I have been behaving like one, yes,” he murmurs with a laugh. “Don’t let me off the hook too easily, either. I need to get a few orgasms out of you before you should consider that.”

That sounds perfectly fine to you, so all you do is moan in reply, which makes him smile. He likes to please his woman, and knowing that he hasn’t done a good job of that makes him even more determined to make up for it.

“It’s okay to use two hands, sweet girl,” he continues teaching, tilting his head towards his own hand that was still thrusting two fingers inside of you. “While it may be mine right now, yours will work just the same.”

Something switches inside of you the moment he begins to help you masturbate, his own fingers fucking inside of you while yours stimulate another part of your puffy cunt. You always had a thing for acts of service, but when it came from your boyfriend, you were practically putty in his hands.

“That’s right,” he purrs, a smile tugging on his lips. “Such a pretty girl. Perhaps you just needed to be reminded of how to treat yourself.”

His hazel eyes are still on your face, watching as you pinch in absolute ecstasy, your thighs shaking on his shoulders. “I see that I’ve underestimated you,” he teases, dipping his head to lick at your folds, his tongue brushing against your fingers as he continues to guide the movements of your hand. “It seems like you’re doing just fine for yourself after all.”

You huff, shaking your head. “No, no… it’s all you.”

Zayne chuckles at that, sucking your fingers that were circling your clit into his mouth before he places them back on your sensitive pearl, giving you a bit more lubricant. “There’s no need to be so hard on yourself, I’m merely helping you. We’re practicing together, sweetheart,”

You almost roll your eyes at that, because the last thing Zayne needed was practice on how to please you. He may have been a bit distracted, but that could never take away from how perfect of a lover he was.

And… it was difficult not to be hard on yourself when he’s practically taken away your ability to orgasm on your own. With the way he’s making you feel right now, his absence was almost worth it.

Your eyes haze over as you look down at him, a soft moan leaving your lips. “Mmh, ‘m gonna cum,” you choke out.

To that, he nods in understanding. He thumbs apart your folds, leaving you to play with yourself as you please while he dips his head in to lick at your cunt in any way he can, feeling the way you clench around his fingers. “That’s right. Look at you, honey, such a quick learner.”

Zayne grasps onto your thigh with his free hand, pressing a few wet kisses along your inner skin as you come down from your high. Your hand still has a death grip on his hair, but he doesn’t mind it. He knows that he deserves to lose a few strands of hair after how he has left you alone.

You pant, your chest heaving as your body reels from your orgasm. While your vision is blurry, you can still make out the picture of your boyfriend sucking his fingers into his mouth, cleaning them free of your release.

“Mm, you know, the release from an orgasm does much to calm people,” he murmurs, giving your mound a chaste kiss before he rises up to give you one on your forehead. “Do you feel any better, my dear?”

You do feel better, but a part of you, one that you can’t quite shove away, is still yearning for more. Despite that, you nod, brushing your hand along his cheek as he dips his head to give you a kiss.

Sugary and sweet are two words you’d used to describe kissing Zayne, because those were adjectives you’d also use to detail how he always behaves when around you.

He pulls away from the kiss, propping himself up on his elbow above you while he uses his other hand to brush away your hair. “I really am sorry,” he whispers, his voice soft and full of a raw honesty that makes your heart squeeze.

You shake your head with a smile. “I know you didn’t mean to,” you reply. “It’s just… you made me feel like you didn’t need me, like what I felt was one sided.”

Zayne’s expression seems to soften as he shakes his head. “Of course I need you, I always need you. Your needs are never one-sided, especially not needs of this nature.”

He brushes his hand over your cheek. “And I was serious about my endeavors of making it up to you, sweetness. C’mere.”

Before you know it, you’re plucked from your position on the bed and carried to the corner of the bedroom. Zayne takes a seat in the rocking chair positioned there, spinning it around until it faces the body length mirror just in front of the two of you.

He then undresses you entirely, kissing along your thighs, your hips, the curves of your back, on the cheek of your ass—everywhere and anywhere he could. Sure enough, you hear the rattling of his metal belt buckle behind you, and when you glance over your shoulder, his cock is pulled out from the confines of his boxers.

His slacks are still bunched up around his thighs, as are his boxers, but he pays no mind to it. He raises two fingers as he beckons you to sit in his lap, and you do.

Zayne rests one hand on your hip while the other grasps onto his shaft, pumping it in his first a few times before he smears the head of his cock along your folds, gathering your slick. “The ‘teaching’ is over, but now, I simply want to show you just how much I need you.”

His words stir something within you, and when he leans up to press a kiss on your shoulder, you already feel like your lover is here to live up to his word. “Is that alright?” he asks against your skin, prodding your entrance with his tip.

When you nod, you’re already sinking down, taking him inch by inch until you’re cockwarming his thick length. He smiles at you in the reflection of the mirror, his eyes drifting over your body that he will never forget to worship again.

“So beautiful,” he coos, his hands mapping out the curves of your waist, your hips, your thighs. “Absolutely gorgeous.”

Your cheeks flush at his words. “Thanks.”

Zayne shakes his head. “There’s no need to thank me for speaking the truth,” he whispers. “That’d be like thanking Einstein for developing the theories of special and general relativity—it’s practically a given.”

You aren’t sure where the correlation is, but when one of his hands slips in between your thighs while the other grasps onto one of your breasts, you don’t care about fighting it out.

“Point is, I mean it. Every word,” he adds.

You feel like a goddess being worshiped as his mouth finds your shoulder, the smacking of his lips omitting into the otherwise quiet room as he places open-mouthed kisses on your skin. His middle and ring finger work to toy with your clit, his other hand squeezing onto your breast.

And then… he begins to rock.

You gasp at the feeling of his cock just barely moving inside of you, your body entirely engulfed in the sensations that he is so eagerly providing you.

“You feel—hah—so, so good,” he whispers against your skin, his lips climbing the curve of your shoulder. His fingers circle your clit at an agonizingly slow pace, and when you place your hand on his to guide his movements, he smiles at you in the reflection. “There’s my girl. Such a quick learner, just like I said.”

You lazily return his smile, your head resting back on his shoulder. He removes his hand from your breast to pluck his glasses from his face, placing them on yours instead.

“My baby is such a smart girl,” he purrs, his lips finding your neck as he admires you. Flushed skin, hair messed up, his glasses resting on your nose. He could come inside you at the sight, but he wants to prolong this. He doesn’t ever want to leave this moment with you. “And so beautiful too. Absolutely ravishing.”

You chuckle at that, though your laughter was interrupted by a soft moan as his fingers pick up the pace as they circle your puffy clit. “You’re… hah—handsome,” you manage to return.

Zayne chuckles at your words, nodding his head as a silent thank you. He presses another kiss on your shoulder, though he quickly leaves another one once you begin to rock your hips. He sits back, catching a glimpse of how you look when you bounce on his cock.

He grins, his hand finding the swell of your ass as he gives both cheeks a nice squeeze. “We can move back to our bed if you’d prefer, sweetheart. I don’t want you to have to put in any more effort into your pleasure tonight.”

You shake your head, glancing over your shoulder to look at him. “I wanna see you,” you breathe.

“Honey, there are positions—”

He’s interrupted by your hand reaching back to hold his jaw, pulling him up so that he too could see the reflection of you both in the mirror.

And oh, was it a sight.

“I wanna see you,” you repeat.

Zayne is in no position to deny you, so with a nod of approval, his hands find your hips. “At the very least, let me help you.”

The sound of slapping skin and your breathy moans fill the room, his large hands keeping their iron grip on your hip bones while your hands rest on top of his. He peers out from behind you, watching as your tits bounce just as you do, your hair flying messily.

“Pretty baby,” he pants, more to himself in reaction to the mere sight of you. “Such a lucky man you’ve made me, fuck… take it, baby, yeah. I love you so much, so much…” he babbles, not quite sure what he’s saying, just that he’s speaking whatever graces his mind.

“Oh, I… I love you too, Zayne,” you gasp.

You whine, grinding your hips in fluid motions as you feel your second orgasm quickly approaching. You were sensitive to begin with, and the feeling of his cock stretching you out was more than enough to bring you here.

“Shit,” he rasps, his head falling back onto the rocking chair as his eyes screw shut. “You take me so well, you fit me so perfectly, baby… I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna… oh, shit.”

You weren’t far behind him, and as your movements grow lazier, you opt to sit on his cock entirely as the both of you find your orgasms only second apart.

Ropes of white paint your insides, your cum coating the base of his cock as the two of you become one in a way that you’ve missed so dearly.

Only bliss envelopes the two of you as you slump back onto his chest, his arm wrapping around your waist to hold you close to him. The two of you sit just like that for a moment as you find your breaths that have run off, relishing in the feeling of your combined warmth.

Zayne reaches up to carefully grasp your jaw, turning your head back just enough so that he could kiss you. Your breaths mingle to add to the scent of your love that looms in the air, his other hand running soothing strides along your hip.

“I don’t deserve you,” he breathlessly says with a lovesick grin. “Quite frankly, I don’t. You’re wonderful to me.”

You shake your head, leaning down to kiss him again before he slowly helps you up onto your trembling legs. “Oh, stop that. Just because you’ve been a little caught up with work doesn’t mean that you’re suddenly a bad partner.”

Zayne sweeps you into his arms, carrying you bridal style towards the bathroom. “See? You’re simply too good to me. Such a lovely personality, the most contagious laugh I’ve ever heard, the cutest snores when you sleep, the sweetest pussy in existence… my dream girl in all capacities.”

You smile as he sets you down, pressing a kiss onto your forehead as he crosses the room to draw you a shower to your liking. Warm—not cold, but not hot enough to the point that your skin tingles. He’s had plenty of practice in this area, and he’s gotten it down to a science by now.

“I do not snore,” you murmur, shaking your head.

As he peels off his clothes, discarding them without care on the bathroom tile. He extends his hand to you to invite you inside the shower behind him. “Mhm, sure you don’t.”

You scoff, tipping the toilet seat shut. “You can tease me for my snoring once you, my 27-year-old man, master the art of putting the damn seat down.”

“…Oops.”

note. my dr. zayne would never forget to please his woman! but i really liked the concept sooooo :3 it was rly difficult for me to write him lol the dialogue might suuuuuckkkk but i hope i did him justice < 3 thank you for reading, interact if you enjoyed !!!

i ALSO kinda wanna do a similar version of this with sylus except… not nearly as gentle ig?? would you be interested??? do let me know.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ✧ masterlist | request

#zayne love and deepspace #lads zayne #doctor zayne #lnds zayne #l&ds zayne #zayne x reader #dr zayne #zayne x you #zayne smut #love and deepspace

1K notes · View notes

sooniebby · 2 months ago

Text

ఌ 𝐑𝐎𝐂𝐊𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑

W.C › 12k

Warnings › bottom male reader. Reader is a bit immature. If you wanted an example of the bands music: Love Countdown vs Black Rose. Translations at the end. Some homophobia with a slur but very light. Unhinged OC, he’s crazy

Plot › This post I had but expanded.

Kinks › size difference, pain, possessive, lite spanking, toxic, dacryphilia, dubcon

Words to know › maknae (막내) — youngest. Hyung (형) — a term a younger male with call an older male. Jagiya/Jagi (자기야) — “sweetie/baby.” Seonbae (선배) — title of respect for someone in a higher position of you, usually work/school. Dongsaeng (동생) — little brother/sister, doesn’t have to be a biological sibling/can be a friend.

ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

안녕하세요, 러브카운다운입니다!

박도현

Leader, 1997, Bassist, main vocalist

신원식

1998, Guitarist, lead vocalist

유키

1999, Drummer

양준호

2000, keyboardist, lead vocalist

이영재

2002, guitarist, sub vocalist

초 (Name)

Maknae, (B.Year), guitarist, violinist, main vocalist

Festival performance this Friday at Yellow Wood University, 8 PM KST

A giddy grin spread on your lips as you looked at the social media post your company posted not even an hour ago. There were mainly positive comments, everyone excited to see you all live after listening to the debut album.

You debuted into Love Countdown just five months and your band was already getting love most bands would kill for.

Your music was certainly good but it did help most of your band mates were practically model material. Any type of fans were fine with you, even if all they cared about was one of your band mates abs.

The sound of the front door opening caught your attention as you exited out of Twitter and looked up. As with most groups, you lived in an apartment with your band mates. Lucky for you, your company wasn’t inhumane and forced six men to group in one small apartment.

You roomed with Junho and Young-Jae. While Dohyun, Yuki, and Won-Shik roomed together right next door.

“Hey, Hyung. You bought any dinner?” You asked, watching as Young-Jae only had to walk two steps to get into the kitchen. Hey, your company wasn’t that rich.

“Just pizza because I’m not buying your picky ass anything else ever again.” He said, placing it on the kitchen countertop. “Can’t believe you didn’t even attempt to eat the expensive Italian food I bought last time.”

“No one told you to buy me Italian food.” You rebutted, walking over to grab a slice.

“Ungrateful brat.”

“Love you too, Hyung.”

You grabbed two pizzas slices as Young-Jae put away the groceries he bought.

“Hey, is your violin tuned? Dohyun Hyung was on my ass because of what happened last time.”

Last time meaning you pulled out your violin to play a song from your album and it sounded like absolute shit. You were lucky the crowd found it cute and were just laughing as you hurriedly tried to tune the violin. The perks of being the cute maknae!

“Of course, I wouldn’t want Dohyun Hyung to spank you again.”

“He did not spank me, stop being weird.” Young-Jae rolled his eyes, reaching over to deliver a smack to the back your head. You cried out in pain as you glared at him.

“Do you know who else is playing at the festival? I didn’t pay attention when Manager Nayoung was talking.”

“Of course you didn’t. Mostly solo artists. I think a rock band is playing there… can’t remember their name. Starts… like uh…” Young-Jae sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Le..? No… Uh. Damn. It was something edgy.”

“Edgy?”

“Yeah. Their music is all rock and emo. The made the OST to that crime kdrama you watched. Seriously… their name isn’t long, why can’t I remember?”

“You’re getting old.”

Young-Jae looked up at you, his eyes narrowing. “Say that again?”

“What?”

“(Name)….”

“Hyung…”

You both stared at each other as a slight smirk pulled on your lips.

“You fucking……!”

“I’m home.”

The door opened just before Young-Jae could attack you. You shrieked and immediately ran to your savior, clinging to Junho. Junho was unfazed as he wrapped his free arm around your waist and tugged you close, closing the door with his foot.

“Pizza for dinner? Thanks.” Junho said, placing his bags down on the kitchen counter.

“Stop protecting that little shit, Hyung. I need to give him a spanking.” Young-Jae glared at you with a murderous intent in his eyes.

You giggled. “Oh~ so kinky Hyungie~! Should I pull my pants down?”

“You…!!!”

Junho maneuvered you away just as Young-Jae made an attempt to grab you. You wrapped your arm around Junho’s neck and grinned, sticking your tongue out at Young-Jae as a sign of victory.

“Hm, Junnie Hyung, do you know that emo band that’s playing at the festival this Friday?” You asked, looking up at Junho.

“Hm. Black Rose?”

Black Rose? Hm… Why did that sound familiar?

You were about to think more until your stomach growled.

Forget it. It’s probably nothing important anyway.

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

“Looking good boys. Your first ever festival performance. Let’s do great okay?! Fighting!” Manager Nayoung said as she patted you on the back.

You gave her a smile as you glanced at yourself in the mirror. There were hearts drawn over your nose, almost like freckles. Being the maknae meant you usually got the more cutesy makeup compared to the others.

Dohyun was always… more naked compared to everyone else. You glanced over at your leader and couldn’t help but stare at his ass. He was wearing a crop top with no sleeves, a waist chain and sinfully tight leather pants. You were almost jealous of his abs but also wanted to touch them again.

Your eyes flickered over to Young-Jae and you almost laughed to see him unabashedly staring right at Dohyun’s ass. You sauntered over to him and smacked his head.

“Hey, are you trying to burn a hole through his pants?” You whispered, snickering as Young-Jae’s face practically turned red.

“Shut it!” He weakly retorted, turning his attention to the mirror to fix his dyed red hair. “I was just looking at his outfit. The stylists love putting him tight clothing. What if he’s uncomfortable?”

You hummed. “Dohyun Hyung!”

“Hey—!”

“Yes,” Dohyun looked up from the book he was reading, smiling over at you. He had red lipstick with dark eyeliner that brought out the blue colored contacts he wore. He’s lucky he’s handsome, blue contacts just freak you out.

“Are you uncomfortable in your pants?”

“Hm, no? I won’t be moving much anyway.” He answered. “Why?”

“Just asking!”

You turned back around to see a furious Young-Jae staring at you. You only giggled. “See? He’s fine. You’re just enjoying his ass.”

“I hate you.”

“Love you too, Hyungie~!”

A tap on your shoulder caught your attention as you turned back to see Yuki behind you. He was wearing a more tamed version of Dohyun’s outfit with lighter makeup. “Some snacks I stole from the staff table.” He handed you a chocolate bar, a bag of chips, and a soda.

“What about me?” Young-Jae asked.

“What about you? Love you, (Name).” Yuki patted you on the head before walking away to join Junho on the couch. Favoritism. You loved being the maknae.

You smirked. “Maybe try being cuter. Then your hyungs will want to take care of you.”

“I’m going to smother you in your sleep.”

“Kinky~!”

Young-Jae rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to the mirror, fixing his collar. “I’m not even sure why we’re dressed like this. Our concept isn’t this dark.”

“It’s just for the event. Manager Nayoung was telling me that the event organizers wanted a darker theme.”

“Our songs are literally all about being in love and being happy. We have no emo or rock songs.”

“Stop complaining. At least they still wanted us. We’re first for a reason. We just need to get everyone upbeat.”

You glanced over at Young-Jae, taking in his outfit. It was similar to yours. A white lace shirt with black detailing. Basic black slacks with combat boots. Except he had a choker while you had a necklace. The hearts across your nose were red, brightening your face in comparison to the dark eyeliner.

Won-Shik and Junho had similar outfits as well, an inverse of yours and Young-Jae. You preferred the more colorful clothing you wore during your regular performances but it is what it is. As you flicked at a lint on your cheek, the door to the dressing room opened.

“You’re going to preform in twenty minutes, boys. Get going!”

As your band mates got ready to set up their instruments, you saw the next band come in to get dressed. And to your horror, a familiar face walked right in.

Kim Ye-Jun.

You felt your heart drop to your ass as you stared at him. He didn’t seem to notice you at first, busy directing his band mates to get dressed. It wasn’t until he turned around that he froze at the sight of you.

“Let’s go, (Name)-Ah.” Young-Jae said, grabbing your arm as he began to pull you out of the room. Your gaze was still locked on Ye-Jun before you quickly turned away, the memories of him flooding your brain.

That fucking dick. He’s in that band?!

Shit. You wanted to delete their OST off your playlist stat. Why were they even playing at such a small event, they weren’t mainstream by any means but they were big in the band scene.

“Violin tuned?” Dohyun suddenly asked as you assumed your position, fixing the mic to your height.

“Yea. It’s tuned…”

“You okay? You look like you saw a ghost.”

You wished he was a ghost.

“I’ll be fine. Just a little nervous.”

Dohyun took your word for it and simply patted you on the back, turning his attention back to his own mic. It only took a few minutes before the MC was announcing the band and the yells from the crowd increased.

You stood tall, clutching the guitar to your chest just as the lights shined on you all. Dohyun began his usual speech while you couldn’t help but smile at attention. A few girls were screaming your name!

Yuki tapped his drumsticks together before starting off the beat. You were only going to be performing five songs so you weren’t worried in the slightest. Of course you forgot you were the one that started this song off.

Despite the slight hiccup and Dohyun’s swift glare at you, you continued on, earning a few giggles from the crowd. As you played, you didn’t notice the pair of eyes watching you from the side of the stage.

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

“You were great, boys! I think you gained some new fans,” Nayoung said, handing each of you a bottle water. “Go get changed and enjoy the rest of the festival! Do anything to get fans.”

Won-Shik smirked as he wrapped his arm around your neck, “anything?” You grinned, rolling your eyes.

“Absolute not! Get your mind out of the gutter!” Nayoung yelled, glaring at Won-Shik. “Yuki, watch him! I don’t want a scandal before you’re even a year old yet! Matter of fact, stick with one other person.”

Young-Jae groaned. “Guess I’m stuck with you,” he said, glaring at you.

You smirked before glancing over at Dohyun as he began wiping off his makeup. “Well… Dohyun Hyung!”

“What do you—!”

“—Can you pair with Jae Hyung? I wanna hang out with Junnie Hyung!”

“You little—!!!”

“—Sure. You okay with spending time with me Jae-Ah? I don’t think I’ll be much fun.” Dohyun laughed, turning over to face you and Young-Jae. His makeup was smudge now—lipstick off completely. His eyes resembling deer eyes by how round they were. Boba eyes, that’s what Won-Shik called them once.

Because of how perverted you were, you couldn’t help but imagine if that’s how he would look after having sex.

A quick glance at Young-Jae told you he was thinking the same thing.

“C..Course, Hyung!! You’re great, amazing even! I mean… you’re great to hang out with… Yeah… I’ll go change.” Young-Jae grabbed his duffle bag and quickly sprinted to the bathroom.

“What’s with him?”

You shrugged, “Dunno. Maybe he has diarrhea.”

“Oh no… I’ll get him some tea.” Dohyun said, taking you seriously. Before you could even tell him it was a joke he already left the dressing room. You sighed and rubbed the bridge of your nose. He was so weirdly naive sometimes.

A tap on your shoulder caught your attention as you looked over to see Junho smiling at you. “You gonna change or go out like that?” He was already changed—dressed in a black t-shirt with washed out jeans. His styled hair purposely brushed out, now just a brown mop on his head.

“No, I’ll change. Wait for me, Hyungie!” You blew him a kiss that he quickly caught, laughing.

You and Junho seamlessly blended into the crowd of college students as a the next band began to play. Black Rose had already played while you were getting undressed so you ended up missing it.

You tried to ignore the odd feeling in your stomach at the disappointment you weren’t fast enough. But you didn’t care! You didn’t…

Certainly not.

“Shots?” Junho suddenly asked, leaning down to rest his chin on your shoulder. You hummed in agreement. He left and was quick to come back with two shots. About an hour passed on you just listening to each act perform before the DJ came out and everyone started dancing.

The cool October breeze made you shiver as you felt Junho wrap his arms around you. You grinned and turned around to press your chest against him. Junho was not only taller than you but muscular in comparison—having worked out religiously with Dohyun and Won-Shik.

He was warm so you eagerly pressed as close as possible against him, burying your face in his chest. Junho simply swayed to the upbeat noise music. If the music wasn’t there, people would’ve assumed you both were slow dancing to a ballad.

“Feed me a shot?” You suddenly asked, tilting your head back.

“What are you, a baby?”

“Yup, your baby.”

Junho simply hummed as he used his free hand to grab your face, keeping it still as he slowly tipped the plastic cup’s rim against your lips. You squeezed at his shirt as the cool liquid rushed down your throat, causing you the cough once you swallowed.

“Wow… again!” You laughed, ignoring the judgmental look Junho gave you.

“You’re so weird, (Name)-Ah. I’ll be back, stay right here.” His hand trailed down your waist before he pulled away, poking you on the cheek as he walked away. You hummed and swayed slightly, feeling a bit buzzed from the amount of shots you took by now.

You subconsciously began to whisper the lyrics to one of your songs when a hand wrapped itself around your wrist. The words couldn’t even leave your mouth before you’re tugged away from the crowd. You whined and was about to scream when one of the street lamps illuminated your attacker.

Kim Ye-Jun.

A groan left your lips, no longer feeling the need to put up a fight. At least it’s not a saesang.

Ye-Jun dragged you all the way back go where the dressing room was. You assumed he was going to drag you in there but he suddenly took a sharp left turn and pulled open the storage closet, shoving you inside. A gasp left your lips as you bumped into the wall, groaning in pain.

Your eyes felt heavy, especially with the bright ceiling light shining down on you. “Seriously..? I was about to get another shot!”

He didn’t say anything, his eyes narrowing at you.

You bristled, standing up straight. “What?! I’m of legal age, dick. Anyway, I need to go back before my friends start worrying about me.” You moved to push past him but he grabbed your shoulder and slammed you right back against the wall.

The force knocked you sober as you stared at Ye-Jun in shock. “What.. What the fuck is your problem?!”

“I thought you wanted to be an Idol.” Ye-Jun suddenly said.

You tilted your head. “Wha..? The company thought I fit the band aesthetic better. Besides, I can’t dance well anyway. Why do you even care? You could’ve asked me this in front of everyone else..”

Ye-Jun stared at you for a moment, as if he was thinking about what to say. You took the moment to really take him in. He was taller than you, his buzz cut had grown out from university, though still short and spiky. A worn out leather jacket with a wife beater. Leather pants that hugged his thighs. Wow, he was working out.

You shook your head. Nope, you weren’t about to fall back into his arms. “Well, if you’re just gonna stare at me, you can follow our band’s instagram. I post on there. It’s TheRealLoveCountdown.”

A bitter laugh left Ye-Jun just as you were about to push him. You wanted to ask what’s his problem was when he surged forward and slammed his lips against yours. A strangled gasp left you and your hands quickly moved to push him away. But he was stronger, grabbing your wrists as he slammed them against the wall.

He kissed you hungrily, pressing his crotch against yours. You couldn’t help the soft moans that left your throat as he bit your lip. The pain sent a shockwave through your spine. His hands released your wrists and shoved themselves into your jeans.

“Kim Ye-Jun!” You managed to stutter out as you pulled away from the kiss. He paid you no mind, grabbing a fist full of your ass. An embarrassing whine left your lips as finger teased your hole.

“Why are you speaking respectfully?”

“Aren’t you my seonbae now? You debuted first.”

Ye-Jun looked down at you, his grip tightening on your ass. “Seonbae? I told you to call me Hyung.”

“You lost that privilege, Seonbae. We aren’t friends.”

“Mhm,” Ye-Jun hummed. “Yeah, you weren’t ever a friend. You’re mine.”

You shivered and felt your hips buck against his, your bulge rubbing against his own. Ye-Jun smirked as he pulled you, hands gripping your waist, as he turned you around. A grunt left you as you’re pushed against the wall.

The feeling of cool air touches your lower half before you can even complain. He pulled your fucking pants down. You gasped as he pried your ass open and you felt a puff of air tease your hole.

“You… Yah, what the hell do you think you’re doing, bastard?!”

The air stilled in the closet as your lips pressed into a tight thin line. Oh god. You really said that.

“Sae…kki…ya?” Ye-Jun whispered, his grip loosening on your skin. You were grateful that your back was facing him so you couldn’t see the face he must be making.

Young-Jae was right. You really needed to work on having a filter.

“I’m a son of a bitch? I’ll fucking show you a son of a bitch, Cho (Name).”

It was silent for a moment—you almost believed Ye-Jun was getting ready to leave when you felt two fingers shove themselves inside your hole. The fingers were slick so it wasn’t in there dry but the intrusions felt like it was the worst thing you could ever experience.

Ye-Jun waited for a moment before slowing flexing his index and pointer finger inside. You grunted and gripped at the wall for some type of purpose. What the hell was he looking for?

A guttural scream left your throat as his fingers rub against your prostate. You whimpered, rubbing your thighs together as you looked behind to try and get a look at Ye-Jun.

His head was down so you could only see his hair. He patted your ass before leaning forward and pressing his lips against your right ass cheek. It felt oddly sweet—it almost made you short circuit.

Until you felt teeth sinking into your skin.

“Fuck!” You cried out, pressing your head against the wall as his fingers began to repeatedly press against your prostate. His teeth felt sharp on your skin as if he was biting to break skin.

Ye-Jun didn’t allow you to breathe or take in the pleasure, pumping his fingers to attack and abuse your prostate. He moved to your left ass cheek and left a matching bite mark—you were sure that one broke skin.

You weren’t even sure how long it had been. Your legs were shaky as you had to use your hands to keep yourself help. The leaking from your dejectedly cock made you whimper at being unable to bring yourself to true pleasure.

There were bite marks not just on your ass but on your thighs. You had weakly tried to keep him off but he easily stopped you with a painfully slow rub against your prostate that sent you into a frenzy.

It was building—the tell tale sign of you reaching your peak. Your toes curled as you hiccuped. You didn’t even notice you were crying.

Just as you felt the orgasm coming to its peak… Ye-Jun pulled away.

You whined, looking back at him in shock as he wiped his fingers on your t-shirt. He looked unbothered as he fixed his clothes. His eyes flickered over to you when you made another pathetic whine to get his attention. It almost hurt to talk. He only smirked.

“You can take care of the rest, right?” He asked, his lips moving into a slight snarl as his eyes narrowed. “Or maybe call that band mate of yours. You were practically on his dick earlier.”

Your eyes widen as you watched him leave, slamming the door shut behind him. You slid down the wall and could only just sit there in pure shock.

The dryness of your throat was beginning to affect you as you reached down to pull your boxers up.

You just wanted to go home.

❝ 목이 메어 ❞

It had been two weeks since the “incident” and you had made a clear effort to never listen to Black Rose. You blocked them everywhere—going as far as to block them on your other members phones as well.

Yuki and Won-Shik didn’t seem to care that much.

Young-Jae called you insane.

While Junho and Dohyun were the only two that seemed worried about your behavior.

Which led to now. You were curled up on Dohyun’s bed as he sat at his desk, working on some lyrics for your comeback that was four months away. He always liked getting ahead in work. The band wouldn’t start recording until December. It was only November 3rd.

The lyrics were technically done and approved by the company but Dohyun was always a perfectionist so everyone had let him be at this point.

Junho was beside you on the bed, occasionally giving Dohyun some of his opinions on the lyrics.

This album was going to be more ballad heavy. Focusing solely on heartbreak and toxic relationships. You almost scoffed to yourself.

You had so many lyrics you wanted to put but knew they would end up being too personal so you kept them in your journal for safe keeping.

“Oh, we’re trending on Twitter…” Junho suddenly said, earning both yours and Dohyun’s attention.

“What? What did we do?” Dohyun questioned, quickly moving to sit on the bed. You sat up and curled close to Junho, worried that someone on a random forum made an insane rumor that the Korean netizens would eat up in a heartbeat.

“Oh, it’s mainly (Name)-Ah and that guy from Black Rose.”

Your heart dropped to your ass. “W..Why?!”

Junho glanced down at you curiously before showing you a Twitter post that had almost 20k likes. He soon clicked on the link of the forum posts that was talking about it.

@_Dohyungotafatty (↑4599 ↓235)

↳ guys, have yall seen who’s been liking (Name)’s posts on Instagram??

Below the text was a collage of your Instagram posts on the band’s account. You and Yuki were the only ones that really posted selfies religiously. But it wasn’t the pictures that caught people’s attention.

No it was the fact that the account that seemed to like every single one of your selfies was no other than fucking Kim Ye-Jun.

You balked. You didn’t think he had a public Instagram account that didn’t belong to the company. Fuck, you should’ve checked!!! Of course an older group had more freedom than your own.

You couldn’t even try to assume it was someone else. The next reply to the post was someone clicking on the account and lo and behold, Ye-Jun’s face showed up in the accounts posts.

They even showed that the official band account was following him—as well as his other band members.

Yeah… that was him.

@BRkim_yejun — 589k followers, 6 following

The video checked his following and he was even following the band’s account. You groaned, rubbing the bridge of your nose in annoyance.

“He likes Yuki’s posts too right..? It’s not just me!” You muttered, scrolling to see the other accounts.

@junhoswhore (↑239 ↓26)

↳ if (Name) was a girl, netizens would’ve started a dating rumor ㅋㅋㅋㅋ

@jaesflatass (↑102 ↓34)

↳ he doesn’t even likes Yuki’s posts. He wants him so bad ㅋㅋㅋㅋ

@yukiwukii (↑20 ↓2)

↳ aren’t they alumnis from the same university??

@lovewonshiik (↑1020 ↓125)

↳ girl they’re college dropouts ㅋㅋㅋ

@_loveandfear (↑409 ↓89)

↳ Ye-Jun doesn’t even like his own members posts. He must really like Cho (Name). I wanna see them interact!!

@freakfundashi (↑2987 ↓3082)

↳ I wanna see them fuck on stage

“Okay that’s enough.” Dohyun suddenly said, grabbing Junho phone as he exited out of the forum. “You shouldn’t pay attention to them. They’re just weirdos. What does ‘Dohyun got a fatty’ even mean?”

Junho glanced over at you. You both tried to hold in your laughter.

“I’m not sure, Hyung. I can ask around.”

Dohyun shook his head. “I don’t think I even want to know. Anyway, do you know Kim Ye-Jun, (Name)-Ah? He seems to know you.”

“Yeah, why would you block the Black Rose account if you know him? You aren’t friends?”

You blushed slightly as you tried to come up with an excuse. “We.. we did go to the same college but I dropped out to pursue music. I lost contact with him after that! I wouldn’t even say we were friends.. we were just both music majors!”

Junho and Dohyun didn’t seem too convinced but they got the message that this was all you were going to tell them at the moment.

“If you do feel uncomfortable around him, I can block him, y’know? I want my maknae to be comfortable.” Junho said, leaning over to caress your cheek. You leaned into his touch and hummed in appreciation.

Ye-Jun’s words suddenly got to you. The hyung he was talking about had to be Junho. But you don’t remember ever being on his “dick.” You didn’t like Junho romantically. Besides, you were pretty sure him and Yuki had something going on despite their attempts of being discrete.

Won-Shik seemed to be the resident straight man of the band.

“Manager Nayoung can always speak to Black Rose’s manager and make them get Ye-Jun to back off as well. Just tell us, alright?” Dohyun said, rubbing your head.

You gave him a grin that wasn’t forced and cuddled closer to Junho’s touch. Ye-Jun would probably back off sooner or later. It wasn’t like you would have to see him again any time soon.

Oh how wrong you were.

❝ 매달려 봤는데 상처 발더러고 ❞

The memory is hazy by now, but you still remember the exact date, time, and weather when you first met Kim Ye-Jun.

November 3rd, 20XX. 5:30 pm. Heavy rain and scattered thunderstorms.

You had just came from school, wanting to just plop down on bed and cry. Your future uncertain with your parents refusal to allow you to try out at a company to pursue your dreams on being a musician.

Your umbrella was big, a bit hard to hold upright because of how old it was. There was a hole in it that allowed small drops of rain to drip on your shoulder. You couldn’t even afford to pay for a new one. The wind suddenly picked up just as you were getting to cross the street.

“Shit…!” Your grip loosened as the wind folded your umbrella upwards. It slipped from your grip and twirled across the crosswalk. You made the step to run after it until a hand grabbed your wrist and pulled you right back onto the curb.

A car breezed past you, splashing water over you and your savior. You coughed as the savior pressed you against their chest. They were saying something but it wasn’t hard to hear anything in the heavy rain.

You looked up, pushing away the wet hair that clung to your face. There he was: Kim Ye-Jun. A shaved head while dressed in a Korean military uniform. He looked young but you knew lots of boys your age that were going to do their Korean service before college to get it over with.

The first meeting hardly meant anything to Kim Ye-Jun while it meant everything to you. He released his grip on your waist and bent down to grab your backpack, handing it over to you.

Before you could even say anything else, he handed over his umbrella. You tried to refuse but he forced your hand open and wrapped it around the handle. You watched with wide eyes as he reached up and wiped something off your face before pulling away.

You were so happy that the rain hid the fact you were crying just a few minutes earlier. But judging by the soft smile he gave you, your red eyes must’ve given it away.

Your eyes flickered to his name tag just as he was leaving, sprinting away to what you assumed was the nearby convenience store.

❝ 김예준 ❞

You would see him again at your college welcoming party. He was also a freshman just like you despite being twenty years old. A few freshman teased him about it while he just laughed it off, saying they’re gonna wish they got their service over with.

You didn’t originally want to seek him out, worried he wouldn’t even remember you. But he ended up speaking to you first. Those first nine months you spent with him almost felt like a dream.

He wasn’t your first kiss but he was your first boyfriend, your first time, the first boy you believed you could spend a lifetime with.

But it seemed you were the only one who thought that.

“Cho (Name)? Is he your boyfriend or something? He’s so clingy with you.”

“I don’t know how you do it! He acts so childish, it’s gross. Just because you’re gay doesn’t mean you need to act like a fag. I’m gay and I act fucking normal.”

“Does he even know about the band you got accepted in? Whenever I see you guys interact, it’s literally all about him! He hardly lets you speak.”

You expected Ye-Jun to say something in your defense.

“Yeah… He’s clingy. I didn’t expect him to be when we started hanging out.”

“—Hanging out? You’re not even dating him? You’re fuck buddies?”

“Well it’s only been nine months. We’ve only been fucking. He just whines a lot about his parents before I can even talk. The only way he stops is when we fuck.”

“Really? Why do you even keep him around?”

“Nine months is a long time, haha. It has to be sex, right??”

“He makes me feel good about myself. Plus he is cute despite how annoying he can be—”

“—How is he in bed? Whiny? Bet he’s a slut—”

You couldn’t take it anymore, walking away from the wall as you rubbed at your face. Fuck buddies. You were Kim Ye-Jun’s fuck buddy.

A bitter laugh left you as you pulled your phone, opening website you were on earlier. It was auditions for a new company. If Ye-Jun thought all you did was complain, you would show him you have drive.

You blocked his number and signed up for the audition, dropping out of school the next week. Your parents disowned you but you pushed through, staying at your aunt’s before you got the acceptance call.

It’s just a shame you had to see him again after four years.

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

‘ COMEBACK ’ 러브카운다운 - Love’s Fool

After an intense music video recording, it was released three hours ago. It was your groups first comeback so to say you were nervous was an understatement. The music video was different from the debut’s sunshine and happy vibes from the single debut album.

This 1st mini album, named after the title track, was darker and certainly more depressing. Though it seemed the fans were eating it up. A few even saying they cried to the song.

You straightened your back as the hair stylist pulled at your hair. It was the first performance at a music show. Online so many fans were staying they were going to get the band its first music show win so you couldn’t help but feel giddy at the thought.

Switching the phone onto the camera, you held it up and smiled, taking a few pictures. You immediately posted them onto Instagram, choosing the ones where you looked the cutest. It was only a second before the first like came in.

@BRkim_yejun liked your post

You almost threw your phone. But that wasn’t the worst. He actually commented. In the past three months that’s he’s been religiously liking your posts, and only yours, he’s never commented on it.

@BRkim_yejun commented : 귀여워, 자기야… 셀키 더 찍어 주세요… 뽀뽀하고 싶어요 ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ

Kiss?? You almost passed out as you reread his comment over and over again. You couldn’t believe he was asking for more selfies! You’re just happy he didn’t use “키스” as that would’ve been too romantic. But the nerve to call you jagiya was pissing you off. You haven’t been his baby in few years now!

@TheRealLoveCountdown responded : 꺼져

Sure, it’s petty to tell him to go away but you weren’t feeling generous to be nice right now. You turned off your phone and placed it on the table in front of you. The hair stylist had finally finished your hair as she walked away. Dohyun came up to you, smiling slightly.

“(Name)-Ah, you okay? That’s the first time he commented on your post right?”

“Yeah… But it’s fine, I told him to go away. Maybe he’ll listen.”

Dohyun only chuckled in response. He leaned down and wrapped his arms around you as he rubbed his cheek against yours. You giggled and basked in his warmth, sighing in relief.

But you couldn’t stop your mind from wandering about how Ye-Jun used to hug you just like this. Especially when you were slaving away on your assignments and he wanted you to take a break.

He’d press kisses on your neck before your cheek, inching close to your lips before pressing a wet slobbery kiss on your lips. Because that would always disgust you and make you chase after him to deliver another wet slobbery dog kiss on his cheeks.

Then he’d always hug you close on the couch and force you to watch tv. He’d always get you. And you’d always fall asleep in his arms.

“Are you method acting again? No one’s expecting us to cry on stage, dumbass.”

You flinched as a napkin taps at the edge of your eyes. You glanced over to see Young-Jae gently dapping the tears away before they have the chance to fall and ruin your makeup. Dohyun just tightens his hug and comfortingly rubbed your shoulders before pulling away.

“Thanks, Hyungie~!” You grinned, moving to pull Young-Jae into a hug that he swiftly dodged.

“You’re not messing up my outfit! Stay back!”

“Hyung… I want to hug you!!! Come here!!”

“Stay back, Cho (Name)!!!”

The performance was great if you had to toot your own horn. This was one of the first songs that you played the violin for entirely—the other time it was sort of a gimmick. You even had a violin solo with Junho’s keyboard.

Now it was wining down time. You took another selfie, even one with Won-Shik and Young-Jae. Young-Jae practically never posted so you usually forced him to join your selfies for his starving fans.

You tried to ignore the weird feeling in your heart when Ye-Jun didn’t immediately like your post. You didn’t care! Nope… You did not.

But you didn’t stop yourself as you typed in the Black Rose Instagram to check the account. You had unblocked a month ago at the request of Nayoung since it looked weird on your part when there’s no history between you and the band.

There wasn’t much pictures beside promotional material. Photos for their comeback. It was only five members, Ye-Jun as the leader but he wasn’t the oldest. You wondered if this was the band he was talking about back then.

@TheBlackRose

(블랙로즈) 4.9M Followers 6 Following

Six following? You clicked on it and sat up straight on the couch to see that the account was following Love Countdown! Though the fact they were so close to five million followers shocked you. They really were popular. Love Countdown only reached 320k followers just recently.

Did Ye-Jun make the account follow you? You tried to push away the giddy feeling in your chest. Deciding you had nothing to lose, you checked the band members account.

@BRpark_shion

(박시온) 518k Followers 5 following

@BRim_roha

(임로하) 538k followers 6 following

@BRseo_minji

(서민지) 515k followers 5 following

@BRhwang_hanbin

(황한빈) 529k followers 5 following

“Roha..?” You muttered, confused on why he was following the account as well.

“Who’s Roha?”

You jumped, looking up to see Yuki sitting down beside you. “Yuki Hyung! Ah.. I was just..”

“Snooping?” He chuckled, leaning over. “Im Roha? Oh, he’s cute.”

“Who’s cute?!” Junho suddenly asked, turning his head abruptly from his phone. You couldn’t help but laugh.

“You’re cuter, Junnie.” Yuki placated, snickering. “Very Kawaii.”

“Oh! Yuki, can you still teach me Japanese? I want to be confident in my pronunciation for our Japanese debut!” You asked, subtly trying to change the conversation.

“Yea.” He said, pushing back his overgrown bangs. “But I still want to know what you’re doing. I thought you hated Black Rose.”

“I do! I really hate them…”

“Or do you hate Kim Ye-Jun? Did he do something to you?”

You frowned. The word hate next to Ye-Jun’s name made you upset. Despite everything, you couldn’t hate him. Fuck, you were pathetic.

“He just… We just ended things badly. But it’s mostly my own fault. I thought we were something special—he didn’t think the same.”

Yuki blinked for a moment as if he was taking in your words. “Oh. You dated him?”

“Wha?! How’d you?!”

“What else could you have meant?” Yuki chuckled. “Do you wanna stay at Hyung’s tonight? We can have a movie marathon.”

You grinned, nodding your head. “Mhm. I would like that.”

The door to the dressing room opened as the next group to preform came in. Dohyun and the others had already gotten ready to leave so they moved to the side so the group could get ready. Much to your shock, it was the Black Rose.

Your eyes stopped on Roha. He was tall, slim, with dyed purple hair. Your body flinched when his eyes fell on yours and a grin pulled on his lips as he waved to you.

Roha looked so familiar but you just couldn’t put your finger on it. Was he from your university? It’s been five years at this point. You shook your head, deciding it wasn’t important.

You grabbed your bag and stood up, looking over at Junho. The others were already leaving.

“Junnie Hyung—”

“—Yes?”

“—Yeah?”

Your body froze as a voice was heard behind you. Junho looked up confused at who else would answer to your call. You didn’t even have to turn around to know who it was. Before Junho, you had called someone else “Junnie Hyung.”

Yeah, Kim Ye-Jun.

“You call him my name?” Ye-Jun suddenly said, walking right up in front of you. Your eyes quickly looked down. Embarrassment swirled in your stomach as you felt Junho’s and Ye-Jun’s eyes on you as they waited for you to speak.

You took a deep breath and managed to look up at him. “Yeah… he’s my hyung.. and his name is Junho. So, Junnie Hyung. You’re not the only man named Jun.”

Ye-Jun laughed, a smirk playing on his lips. “I don’t remember allowing you to do that. His name is Junho, yeah? So call him Junho Hyung.”

“Uhm,” Junho muttered, a look of confusion on his face. His brows furrowed as his lips pulled into a frown. “I don’t like how you’re speaking to my dongsaeng.”

“Dongsaeng?” Ye-Jun tilted his head before turning his attention back over to you. “Cute. That’s real cute. (Name)-Ah, my number hasn’t changed. I’ll be waiting, Jagiya.”

He gave a slight nod at Junho before walking away to join his members to get his hair and makeup down. Junho looked more confused than angry as he glanced over at you.

“Jagiya?”

You blushed. “He’s just.. teasing me! Yeah.. he didn’t mean it.”

A tap on your shoulder caught your attention. You looked over to see Roha grinning at you.

“(Name), my number is the same as well, okay? Talk to you later.” Roha lovingly patted your head before walking away.

Junho blinked. “Wow. I thought you didn’t know anyone in Black Rose.”

“Me neither…”

You were so fucking screwed.

Why was your heart beating so fast?

❝ 진지하진 않잖아 가벼운 간보기잖아 ❞

You unblocked him. Mainly because you had no back bone. You laid on Yuki’s bed, wondering if you should text first. Yuki had some Jpop song playing as he folded up his laundry. He had dumped it on his bed a few days ago but didn’t really do it until you were now gonna stay the night.

“Is it normal to still have feelings for your ex..? Oh well, ex fuck buddy.”

“Yeah. If you really loved him.” Yuki said, muttering something to himself in Japanese before putting away the last of his clothes. He turned off his music and sat down on the bed.

You frowned and sat up. “I’m so confused. He hurt me. He.. He said I complained too much. I was clingy… I didn’t let him speak in our relationship. Said I only shut up when he fucked me…”

“Maybe he was right. Maybe you weren’t the best boyfriend.”

“What?”

Yuki gave you a small smile. “Even if you weren’t, he should’ve talked to you. He should’ve told you instead of bad mouth you to your friends. And.. maybe you should’ve spoken to him about how you were feeling instead of just ghosting him.”

“I… Well he embarrassed me in front of his friends.”

“He was wrong for that. But how can a relationship work if you let one problem ruin it?”

You frowned. Yuki was making sense and you didn’t necessarily want that right now.

“You don’t have to get back with him. He did hurt you. Not everyone can forgive something like that. But how old were you when you dated him?”

“Eighteen…”

“First ever relationship?”

“Mhm…”

“Well, I hope in those five years you know that you can’t just go silent during a relationship problem. You had the right to cuss him out but to also see if you could fix the problem he was feeling.”

“Man… I was hoping you would’ve just let me complain. I didn’t want this philosophical shit.”

Yuki grinned. “You should’ve went to Won-Shik Hyung if you wanted to complain. Do you want to text him?”

You glanced over at your phone, sighing. “Maybe.. But he was acting really weird before we left. He got mad at Junho Hyung because I called him Junnie Hyung.”

Yuki smirked. “He’s just jealous. Then he really does still like you. Wah, you have yourself a possessive boyfriend.”

“He’s not my boyfriend.” You whined, biting your lip.

“He probably doesn’t think that way. I’ll pick the movie while you text your honey.”

You glared at Yuki but still grabbed your phone, staring at the contact of Kim Ye-Jun. It still had a heart on the name. The name proudly written in as “주니형.” You exited out of his contact and went to look at the other blocked numbers you had. It was mostly spam until a familiar named showed up.

Im Suyoung.

Im…

A gasp left your lips. Suyoung was Ye-Jin’s friend, they were practically brothers. You had gotten close to Suyoung by association but soon felt as if he was the big brother you never had. There was a distant memory you had when he said he wanted to change his name to something cooler.

Roha.

Ah. You unblocked his number and saw the loads of messages that didn’t end up going through to you. It had stopped four years ago. But before, it was loads of them asking where you were, if you’re okay, if something had happened to you.

The last message made you laugh at how stupid it was.

↳ Ye-Jun’s worried. He’s going crazy over a nine month relationship, what did you do to him? ㅎㅎ He’s gonna find you one day, (Name)-Ah, be ready.

Find you? Be ready? What the hell was Ye-Jun gonna do to you? You were mainly shocked that he was even going crazy over you being gone. Why would he care when he himself said you were “hanging out?”

You sighed, sending a quick message to Roha to tell him he’s unblocked. Your fingers moved on their own and you found yourself on Ye-Jun’s contact. The profile picture was of him and you, faces pressed together as you grinned at the camera while Ye-Jun looked as if he was mid grimace, eyes squeezed shut from the flash.

You scrolled up to five years ago, to the day you had blocked him. It was tamed for a moment until Ye-Jun seemed to notice his texts weren’t going through.

It was panic after that. Multiple texts with spams if you’re dead, if you’re okay, that he’s freaking out. You couldn’t help but laugh. It felt surreal to see this side of him. After a few months, he only kept sending hello, as if checking everyday to see when you’d unblock him.

A few times he’d type a message. Asking if you ate, if you’re doing okay wherever you are. The next year, he started sending pictures. It was of him and the band. He was talking about how nervous he was being the leader.

Ye-Jun never took selfies, he hated pictures which was why most pictures of him he had a grimace or frown.

But the ones he was sending you, he smiled. Well, as best as he could. It looked forced but you still felt giddy that he was trying.

You scrolled through the messages until finding one on the day of the festival at the university.

↳ you didn’t move on, right? You wouldn’t move on, Jagiya… put cream on the bite marks, I don’t want you to scar. Don’t get so close to that bean pole with the fried hair again, okay? It made me upset ㅠㅠ

↳ you know how to piss me off, Jagi. I wanna keep you locked up so you won’t ever run away from me again. Hah, Love Countdown is a cute name. I wish I went to your debut performance. I think I’m insane at this point, Jagi. Nine month relationship and I’m acting like this ㅋㅋㅋㅋ

↳ it’s weird, I liked seeing you cry. Back then, when that bastard called you a slut I almost killed him ㅋㅋ … I like putting you in your place. If it’s just an act, it’s okay right?

“Back then… Did he… Did he defend me after I left?” You whispered, shame suddenly rose in your heart.

“Hm?” Yuki asked, looking back over at you.

“Nothing… Nothing. Did you find the movie?”

“Not yet.”

You scrolled down, the rest of the messages going back to being little tidbits on his day to date life. It wasn’t until you made it to today that you tried to read what he sent.

↳ Junnie Hyung to another man? Jagi, are you trying to piss me off??? I’ve been staying calm these past for months when all I’ve wanted to do was drag you home and punish you for abandoning me for five years

↳ don’t do that again… you are always mine, no man should be touching you again like he did. I don’t know what made you leave me, but I hope you know I’m never letting you out of my sight ever again

↳ …Those pants you wore on stage were nice. can you buy your own pair, Jagiya? I wanna tear them off you.

↳ you unblocked me?

A gasp left your lips. What the fuck? How did he already know that? You watched as he began typing, the three dots causing unnecessary panic in your heart.

↳ Did you eat?

Huh? You waited to see if he’d send anything else but he didn’t. It took a moment but you soon replied with a sort yes. The anxiety was building within you and you wanted to just block him again. But your heart wanted him back. Even if the messages he was sending you were insane to the normal person.

It was radio silence before he sent a picture.

It was of him in what you could assume was his bedroom. He was lying on his bed and an LED light illuminated his face. His hair messy while a slight smile pulled on his lips. You couldn’t help but smile.

You wanted to ask about that day. If maybe after you left, he realized he wanted you. That maybe he just didn’t know how to word his feelings properly.

But you felt as if it would be better in person. So, you did what you thought was the best response. You sent a selfie to him, making sure to smile.

It didn’t even take a minute before he started sending hearts. He usually never reacted like this before whenever you sent selfies. Did he change when you were gone?

Roha was right. He did go insane when you left him.

“Found the movie. You better leave before you even think about sexting him.” Yuki suddenly said, laying down on the bed.

You blushed. “What?! I wasn’t going to sext him!!”

Though you were feeling giddy at the thought of being close to him again. You couldn’t help but feel a bit worried about how… odd Ye-Jun was acting.

He really did change. And you weren’t sure if it was for the better.

❝ 이러면 안 되는데 머리론 아는데 ❞

It had only been a week and you had kept a small conversation going with Ye-Jun—he texted you every morning and night. He was more confident as well. Leading to the incident that happened a few days ago.

Black Rose had won on the fan voting for the music show win. Everyone on stage was clapping as Black Rose came to the center to grab the reward. You and your band mates were close so you were right in arms reach when Ye-Jun came over to you.

“Thanks to all of our fans for voting. I’m happy I get to make my dongsaeng proud with our twentieth music show win on our four year anniversary.” Ye-Jun said, wrapping his arms around your waist as he pulled you close.

He kept his attention on the camera recording him. “Please send some love to my dongsaeng’s group, Love Countdown!” He squeezed you tightly before pressing a quick peck on your cheek, earning yells from the crowd.

Your band mates, and Black Rose themselves, looked absolutely shocked to say the least.

Including Korean forums not even a day later.

@_Dohyungotafatty (↑645 ↓320)

↳ dongsaeng my ass.. they fucking ㅋㅋㅋㅋ

@jaesflatass (↑236 ↓67)

↳ he wanted to call him Jagiya so bad…

@junhoswhore (↑127 ↓378)

↳ I know skinship is normal but I’ve never wanted to kiss my homies

@_loveandfear (↑564 ↓24)

↳ you not a real homie then. I love kissing my boys good night. Tongue action too

@yukiwukii (↑764 ↓203)

↳ he’s so gay, i wanna call him the f slur ㅠㅠ

@lovewonshiik (↑389 ↓27)

↳ college drop out and gay, pick a struggle ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ

@freakfundashi (↑386 ↓867)

↳ everyday I get closer to seeing Cho (Name) get creampied on stage

@_Dohyungotafatty (↑433 ↓189)

↳ you’re insane ㅎㅎ but Cho (Name) is definitely the bottom

@jaesflatass (↑330 ↓219)

↳ Kim Ye-Jun makes Cho (Name) bounce on his cock… wonder if it’s big ㅎㅎㅎ

@freakyfundashi (↑3980 ↓340)

↳ I have fanfics of them on AO3. Here’s my username ******

“Is Kim Ye-Jun your boyfriend or something? He keeps commenting on your posts.” Young-Jae asked, sitting down beside you on the couch. You glanced up from your phone and shook your head, blushing slightly.

“What are you even talking about? Kim Ye-Jun is just my seonbae. Don’t be so rude, Hyung.”

“Rude? Look at this.” Young-Jae pulled up on your more recent selfies, one you literally took not even an hour ago. It was of you in the fitting room, getting dressed in a fluffy white sweater and white trousers.

Today the band was doing a photoshoot for your upcoming Japanese debut.

@BRkim_yejun commented : 나는 너를 먹고 싶어…!! 왜 그렇개 귀여워? ㄷㄷ

“Dude, he likes you. He literally called you cute,” Young-Jae said, shaking his head. “If you were a girl, knets would’ve exploded with dating rumors already.”

@BRim_roha replied : 죽을래, 새끼야!!! GET OFF YOUR PHONE AND PICK UP THE PEN!!!

@BRpark_shion replied : 떨 떨?? I’ll give you something to tremble about

@BRseo_minji replied : IM GETTING MY ASS BEAT BECAUSE YOU WANNA GET YOUR DICK WET?!?

@BRhwang_hanbin replied : don’t you guys think you’re as weird as him for spamming the Instagram account? Everyone can see this, you stupid fucks.

Young-Jae looked over at you. “His band mates are as equally as insane. They deserve each other.” He turned off his phone and placed it on the coffee table in front of you both.

You only forced a tight grin. “They’re just eccentric people. Though Roha Hyung wasn’t like this back in university.”

“Hyung? You call Im Roha Hyung but not Kim Ye-Jun? Special treatment.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“I heard that.”

You and Young-Jae sat up straight as Dohyun walked over to you both. He shook his head in disapproval before pulling out his phone. Your gaze flickered over to Young-Jae to see him ogling Dohyun. It wasn’t shocking. Dohyun was in a cropped t shirt once again with tight jeans.

Someone on the stylist team wanted to fuck Dohyun so bad at this point.

“Anyway,” Dohyun muttered, frowning at a text message he read before turning his attention over to you and Young-Jae. “The company is holding a birthday party after this for Manager Nayoung. Make sure to come.”

You gave him a quick thumbs up, “course, Hyungie~!”

“Yeah I’ll be there.” Young-Jae muttered.

“To stare at your ass.” You coughed out, earning a swift glare from Young-Jae.

Dohyun raised an eyebrow. “Stare at my slacks? When did you start using the work slacks, Jae-Ah? I can give you the website I buy them from.” He said, smiling.

Young-Jae sighed. “Sure…”

You gave a comforting pat on Young-Jae’s shoulder. Poor guy.

Party. You couldn’t help but briefly wonder if he’d be there…

❝ 거기 멈춰 줄래 빠지기 싫어 싫어 싫어 ❞

The party, of course, was nothing big. Manager Nayoung had asked for something small and chill. So the DJ was playing more 90s and 2000s Kpop. You were glued to Young-Jae for the most part until he got too drunk, somehow, and had to be taken home by Dohyun.

Won-Shik was being weirdly flirty with the older female staff who were enjoying his attention.

Yuki was somewhere, you remembered him saying he wanted to speak to someone.

That just left you and Junho together. You leaned closer to him and sighed, glancing up at him. Junho was staring straight ahead, watching the older people dance as much as their bones could handle before his eyes flickered down to you.

A soft smile spread on his lips. “Enjoying the party?”

“It’s cool.” You giggled. “I know how old people party now.”

“Hey, don’t judge. This is gonna be you in a couple of years. Just you wait.”

You snuggled closer and hummed, reaching up to wipe something off Junho’s cheek. Junho leaned in closer so you didn’t have to stand up on your toes to reach him. It was only a second, just a split second to where it almost looked like you kissed him when an hand grabbed your arm.

A shocked wince left your throat as you looked over to see who your aggressor was.

“Kim Ye-Jun? You were invited?” Junho asked, his eyebrows furrowing at the sight of him.

Ye-Jun’s upper lip was pulled into a snarl as he glared at Junho but turned his attention over to you. “What did I tell you, Cho (Name)? Did you forget?”

“What..? I’m just talking to Junnie Hyung…?” You whispered, glad that you were all in the corner of the party so no eyes could see this altercation.

“Excuse me?” Ye-Jun tilted his head, his eyes narrowing as he leaned close to you. His hand tightened its grip on your arm. You felt an odd sense of dread as you shut your mouth, staring up at him with wide eyes.

Junho reached over and grabbed your free arm, tugging you back over. “Yah, I don’t know who you think you are, but I’m not going to allow you to manhandle my dongsaeng. Speak to him nicely.”

“Who I think I am?” Ye-Jun turned his attention over to Junho, standing up tall to look straight in the eye. Junho was only two inches taller than Ye-Jun but was carrying more muscle mass in comparison.

It wasn’t even that Ye-Jun didn’t have muscle. Junho was just a bit too buff for his own good.

You knew deep down in your heart Junho would certainly win the fight but judging by how unhinged Ye-Jun has been… you wouldn’t put it past him to act dirty.

“Junho Hyung…” You whispered, catching his attention. “It’s okay… I’ll talk to him in private.”

“I don’t think it’s smart to be alone with him.”

Ye-Jun scoffed. “Why? And you’re safer?”

“Yeah, I am. You haven’t been in his life for five years and only had him for nine months. What claim do you really have over him, Kim Ye-Jun? Do you really know him? Do you know Cho (Name)?”

You balked, wondering how Junho knew that but realized Yuki must’ve mentioned it in passing. It makes sense, Yuki told Junho everything. You should’ve been a bit angry at that but couldn’t help but be happy that Junho was indirectly speaking what you felt deep down inside.

Why was Ye-Jun so set on keeping you as if you’d known him for years?

Ye-Jun’s jaw clinched. “I know how it feels to be without him.” You looked over at him as he tightened his grip on your arm. “And I’m not going through that again.”

“You’re being pretty selfish, Kim Ye-Jun. Did you not even make him your boyfriend? You only realized how much you came to love him when he left?” Junho released your arm, frowning slightly.

“I am selfish. I never said I wasn’t. I want him for myself. It just took for him daring to leave me to truly realize that I can’t be without him.”

“Uhm.” You squeaked out, causing the two men to look down at you. Gosh, it felt so awkward being shorter than them that you only reached their chests. “I’ll be okay… Just let me talk to him so we can resolve our issue.”

Junho sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Okay. You’re an adult. Call me if he does anything.”

You glanced over at Ye-Jun, seeing a slight smirk tugging on his lips. Can’t have him think you’re crawling back so easily.

“Thanks, Junnie Hyung!” You grinned, enjoying the sight of Ye-Jun’s smirk dropping in a millisecond. “I’ll have you on speed dial!”

Once you got the okay from Junho, Ye-Jun practically dragged you out of the building. You waved goodbye to Junho before trying to make Ye-Jun slow down.

Maybe Junho is right.

Kim Ye-Jun doesn’t seem safe in the slightest

❝ 단지 너의 외로움을 단래긴 싫거든 ❞

“A hotel? What? Am I not worthy enough to enter your home?” You laughed, allowing Ye-Jun to push you inside the hotel room. The room was fancier than anything you were used to. Black Rose must be making money.

Ye-Jun slammed the door shut behind him. He tugged off his jacket and tossed it on the ground, his feet heavy as he walked over to you.

“I didn’t take you home because I didn’t want to bother Roha with your screaming.” He said, grabbing your waist.

You blushed, staring up at him with wide eyes. “Screaming? You’re overly confident… Who’s to say I was going to sleep with you?”

Ye-Jun didn’t answer, leaning down as he began pressing kisses against your neck. You whimpered. Your hands gripping at his shirt as he nipped and bit at your skin.

“I don’t need to be confident. I know your body. I know I’m the only one who gets it.” His hands reached down and tugged at your shirt. You stared at him before raising your arms, letting him take off your shirt.

You tried to ignore the hungry look he gave you as he practically clawed at your jeans. Your voice was barely above a whisper, as if you were a bit too nervous to say it. “You act like you’re the only man that’s fucked me.”

His body froze, his eyes narrowing in on your face. You couldn’t help the cockiness that began to build within you at the look on his face.

“What? It was five years. Did you really think I was going to turn celibate because my first ever boyfriend… no, first ever fuck buddy allowed his friends to call me a slut? When asked what you liked about me, all you said was that I made you feel good about yourself.”

Ye-Jun’s eyebrows furrowed as he pulled away, tilting his head as if he was thinking about what you were saying. You sighed, rolling your eyes.

“You forgot? Forgot that you wouldn’t even call me your boyfriend? That I was annoying?!” You couldn’t help yourself, the past anger beginning to bubble up, ready to spill out. “Did those nine months mean anything to you? Or was I… was I just romanticizing our relationship?”

You sighed, rubbing your head. Your throat burned. Shit, were you really about to cry?

A laugh caught your attention as you looked up at Ye-Jun. “You’re laughing…?” You whispered, eyes widening. “You’re laughing after I just poured my heart out?!”

Ye-Jun hummed nonchalantly, tugging off his own shirt. “Yeah. You left me for that? For five years I thought I did something wrong but it was just you getting emotional.”

“Getting emotional?! Yah, Kim Ye-Jun—!”

“—Cho (Name).” His voice sharp. “That day, November 3rd, when I first saw you—I thought you were cute but stupid. Who would run head first into a busy intersection for a stupid umbrella? It was my luck that when I finished my service and you were at my university.”

The calm atmosphere around Ye-Jun made you feel uneasy as you watched him pull off his bracelet. He looked over at you and grinned.

“That first day I got to truly know you, I thought you were the most selfish annoying little shit ever. Me, Me, Me. That’s all you talked about—didn’t ask me any questions about myself.”

You frowned, throat tightening as you tried to fight back the tears welling in your eyes.

“But you know what made me come back? Guess, Jagi.”

“Sex…?”

“Jagiya… Don’t sell yourself so short.” Ye-Jun laughed, shaking his head. His hand reached over and grabbed the belt hoops of your jeans, pulling you flushed against his chest. You let out a shocked gasp. “I saw you. Outside at the college park, crying your eyes out. You looked so cute.”

You shuddered, glancing down as you felt his hand move to your button, pulling it loose.

“You saw me and then immediately ran over to me. Jumped into my arms without even asking me and just cried, begging for comfort.” Ye-Jun chuckled as if he was remembering the moment. “I almost pushed you off but you were cute… So cute. I liked seeing your face ruined with tears.”

“I don’t understand.” You whispered, unable to stop him as he slowly pulled down your zipper.

“I wanted you after seeing you cry and cling onto me. I’ll be honest, I was going to stop seeing you after we first fucked. But then you suddenly said I was your first time… that you didn’t want any other man to touch you.” He laughed. “But you didn’t seem to keep that promise, did you?”

Ye-Jun pushed you onto the bed, grabbing your jeans as he pulled them off. You whimpered, unable to move as you watch him stand tall over you. A small smirk pulled on his lips.

“Everyday, you practically threw yourself at me. So cute and innocent. Whiny in bed as you begged me to fuck you. Slowly you ruined me, Jagiya. I liked how overly dependent you were on me.”

A strangled gasp left your lips as the sound of fabric tearing filled the room. You looked down to see Ye-Jun’s hands tearing open your boxers, creating a hole right at your ass. It was practically ruined.

“I didn’t think at first to make us ‘official.’ My mistake, huh? I didn’t think you’d run off so quickly without speaking to me just because of other people.” His hand gripped at your thighs. “When you didn’t immediately text me back I knew something was wrong. But I tried to think that it’d be good to not have you up under me.”

He laughed, looking down at you. “It was lonely. The first night without you made me never want to be alone again. But you left me alone for five years. Jagiya, did you not think about how I’d feel?”

“But… You didn’t…”

“Didn’t what? Defend you? Is that what you want from me? To be your knight? I’ll be him. Anything to make you stay.”

You gasped, clutching the bedsheets as you’re suddenly flipped onto your stomach, back arched. It was silent for a moment before you felt something cool coat your ass. Your body flinched, a pained whimper leaving your throat.

“Who was it?”

“H..Huh..? Ngh!” You cried out, feeling two fingers sink inside your hole. There was no build up or even a second for you to get used to it. Ye-Jun began to pump his finger in and out, using his free hand to deliver a smack to your ass.

“Who was it? Yang Junho? Did he get to touch you?”

“N..No! No, never..!” You whined, crying at the repeated thrusting against your prostate. The fact he was able to find it so easily scared you. Why could he remember stuff about you after five years?

“Then who, Jagi?”

“Ngh…! It… Mmh!! Ah… Hah.. Y..Young-Jae Hyung…”

“Lee Young-Jae..?” Ye-Jun whispered, his thrusting suddenly slowing down. “You had sex with him?”

“Mhm…” You whined, missing the feeling despite the tears threatening to fall. “We.. We were bored during our trainee years and we couldn’t date so we just became fuck buddies for about a year or so.. Ngh.. We stopped when we met Dohyun Hyung because Jae Hyung caught feelings for him…”

“Only him?”

“…Uhm…”

“Jagi.”

“No… I… I slept with someone after that. But then I couldn’t do it anymore because I got so busy with our debut.”

“Who?”

“You wouldn’t know him. Why do you even care? You probably slept with people during these five years!”

Ye-Jun chuckled. “Mhm. I didn’t. Well, I tried at least.” His finger slipped out of your ass, both hands now spreading you open. “But no one could compare to the pretty face you make whenever you cum on my cock.”

You gasped as you were forced back onto your back and dragged so your lower half of your body hung off the bed. Ye-Jun tilted his head as he drank you on, a slow smile creeping on his lips.

“I missed see you like this. Scared and complainant to my touch. You didn’t fight me at all, Cho (Name). You still want me, don’t you?”

Your hands gripped at the bedsheets as you turned your head to the side, clamping your eyes shut. He only laughed.

“Keep pretending you hate me. I heard sex feels good with hate.” The sound of the zipper and his belt buckle made you flinch, legs instinctively clamping together. You were scared but made no real attempt to move away.

A strangled gasp left your throat as he began to slowly thrust inside of you. It had been up to a year at this point—you almost forgot how much it hurts the first time. Forgot about how big he was.

Ye-Jun groaned, his hands reached up to grab your wrists as he brought them together over your stomach. “Mhm. You still feel so good, Jagiya. How can I live without this?”

You whimpered, eyes shut tight as you feel tears threatening to fall. It was silent for a moment. Your hole repeatedly clenching around his cock as you tried to get used to the feeling. Just as you were about to feel just a smidge of calmness, Ye-Jun slammed into you.

The sound of skin slapping filled the room in tandem with your hiccuped gasps. Tears were freely flowing as your lips parted, trying to say something. You couldn’t even remember what you were going to say.

Your toes curled as the repeated thrusting got you to finally open your eyes and glance down.

Ye-Jun looked downright sinful. His gaze never left your face as his hips slammed into your ass. Hands tightening around your wrists. A smirk pulled on his lips when he noticed you were finally paying attention to him.

“You really are so cute.” He muttered, a crazed look in his eyes as he took you in. “You’re crazy for trying to deprive me of you, Cho (Name). I shouldn’t have let you leave so easily.”

“Ngh… Wh..! Mhm, you act… hah.. act like you could’ve stopped me..!” You managed to finally speak, though it was short lived when his cock finally grazed against your prostate. Ye-Jun moved his hands so only one held both your wrists while the other held your right leg up.

“Oh, you’re still able to talk.” He said, completely ignoring your comment. “Can’t have that.”

He pulled out, much to your dismay, and released his grip on your body. You looked at him with wide eyes, tears staining your face as you wondered what he was going to do. Ye-Jun hummed as he maneuvered you to rest on your stomach once more.

You grunted at the force. “Stop…! Manhandling me!” You whined.

Ye-Jun ignored you again, forcing you to bend your knees on the bed so he could force your ass up high. His hand slipped underneath your boxers and gripped the band. You wondered if he was going to finally just take them off when he thrusted his cock inside your slick hole.

A stuttered high pitched gasp left your throat as he began to repeatedly slam his hips against your ass. He tugged at the hand of boxers, forcing your body to move back on his cock whenever you attempted to pull away just for a second of clarity.

It was repeated attacks on your prostate. The squelching from the lube and the sounds of skin slapping together with the sound of your high pitched moans filled the hotel room. Shit, you were so sure you would be getting a complaint tomorrow.

“I have so many things I want to do to you, Jagiya. To make up for lost time. Because you aren’t ever leaving me again. But I’ll be nice tonight… You have a Japanese debut to prepare for.”

You only whimpered, trying to form some type of words but could only rest your head against the bed.

“But after, I’m going to make you feel the pain you made me feel when you left me for those five years. What happened at the festival was only a taste.”

Ye-Jun delivered a harsh smack to your ass as you let out a shocked gasp. You couldn’t think clearly anymore—just babbling nonsense as your cock rubbed against the bedsheets dejectedly.

You were so close… You hoped Ye-Jun would be kind enough to let you cum tonight.

It seems your prayers were answered as a hand suddenly wrapped itself around your cock. A appreciative mewl escaped you as he began to pump your cock in sync with his thrusting.

The pleasure became too much as a long cry left you as your body began to slump. Your cock squirted against the covers, messing up your stomach in the process. But Ye-Jun didn’t stop, he continued fucking you despite your whines of overstimulation.

His grunting got louder as his hand gripped your ass. You gasped when he slammed deep inside one last time, hips flushed against your ass you began to feel something hot coat your inner walls.

He didn’t wear a condom… You hadn’t even noticed. This was the first time you ever had sex without a condom. Your first ever creampie.

Of course, Kim Ye-Jun was the one to do it.

Your body slumped against the bed, falling onto your side as he pulled out. You couldn’t even complain, too tired to do anything beside sleep.

Ye-Jun leaned over your body and leaned down, pressing a kiss on your cheek. “Don’t sleep yet. You can’t sleep on the sheets.” He wrapped his arms around your legs and upper body, easily lifting you up.

You were in and out as he got a bath ready. Your eyes fluttering close just as he lowered you into the water. He flicked your forehead, jolting you awake as you whined.

“Wha…tsthatfor?” You whispered.

“You can’t fall asleep. I don’t want you to drown in the bath.”

You must’ve ended up falling asleep anyway because you awoke on the bed, dressed in a fluffy white bathrobe. It was dark in the room, only a little light shining through the cracks of the shades from the street lamps.

A hand tightened its grip on your waist as you looked over, seeing Ye-Jun’s face buried in your neck as he clung to your body. You managed to free one hand and reached over to check your messages on your phone.

Roha Hyung

↳ make sure that homosexual is back by 10 am, we have practice in the morning

Jun Jun Hyung

↳ Are you safe? Please make sure you’re safe. Text me in the morning.

Ki Ki Hyung

↳ when did you leave? Are you okay? You better be in your room by 8 am when I visit

Dohyunie Hyung

↳ please don’t come home until after 10 am!!!!! Stay in my room tonight!! PleSjheja!!!

Wonnie Hyung

↳ was I the only one that didn’t know Yuki and Junho are fucking?!? wtf??? Am I only the one who likes girls in this damn band?!??

Jae Hyung

↳ !!!! DOHYUN HYUNG IS SUCKING MY DICK!!!!

↳ IM SO FUCKING HIS ASS TONIGHT!!!!

↳ anyway don’t come home, we’re gonna fuck all night ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ

You shut your phone off and gently placed it back on the nightstand. You’d deal with that mess in the morning.

Your body shifted as you glanced down at Ye-Jun.

Surely you didn’t think he was serious. He couldn’t be this obsessed with you after nine months.

Right?

Poor, naive Cho (Name).

❝ 시작해 버린 순간 못 헤어나올 걸 아니까 ❞

He thought he was seeing things that day.

Love Countdown’s Cho (Name). You stood right there in front of him. He almost ran over to you and hugged you so tight, hoping it wasn’t just a dream. You looked so cute with those heart freckles.

He didn’t think you’d debut in a band. He didn’t remember anything about you being able to play any instrument.

Roha would tell him of course he didn’t. He only knew you for nine months. That wasn’t enough time to get to know someone that well. Especially someone like you who seemed unable to talk about anything besides your family drama or love for Ye-Jun.

Ye-Jun almost thought you just looked oddly similar to his (Name). Until Lee Young-Jae called your name. Until he saw how you looked at him with fear but also some type of love? Like you also wanted to just run into his arms.

No matter.

He was used to having total control of the relationship. He should’ve never allowed you to just take control so suddenly. You broke the relationship without even talking to him.

He’d get you back. No matter what. Because you were his.

Even if you didn’t know that.

@BRkim_yejun started following @TheRealLoveCountdown

❝ 점점 멈추기 힘들어 갈 수록 중독돼 ❞

…. Don’t make fun of me, this wasn’t supposed to be so long lmfao. Anyway don’t even ask, I’ll be using Ye-Jun again and make a part two in future. He’s too toxic to pass up on

Tag list: @the-ultimate-librarian @chill-guy-but-cooler @kiiyoooo @star-3214 @tehyunnie @flurrina @ofclyde @iwishtobeacrow @love-kha1 @mooncarvers-world @smellwell @tomoeroi @remdayz @cherry-blossoms-187 @rhetorical-conscience @mello-life25

Translations:

ㅎㅎㅎ (하하하) — hahaha

ㅋㅋㅋㅋ (크크크크) — LOL

ㄷ ㄷ (떨딸) — trembling

❝ 목이 메어 ❞ — my throat is tight

❝ 매달려 봤는데 상처 발더러고 ❞ — I clung onto that person, and I ended up getting hurt

귀여워, 자기야… 셀키 더 찍어 주세요… 뽀뽀하고 싶어요 ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ — cute, baby. Please take more selfies!! I wanna kiss you, lolol

❝ 진지하진 않잖아 가벼운 간보기잖아 ❞ — you’re not being serious, it’s just a test, isn’t it?

❝ 이러면 안 되는데 머리론 아는데 ❞ — I shouldn’t be like this, I know in my mind

나는 너를 먹고 싶어…!! 왜 그렇개 귀여워? ㄷㄷ — I wanna eat you. Why are you so cute? *shaking*

죽을래, 새끼야!!! — do you wanna die, son of a bitch (this is where sae kki ya came from)

❝ 거기 멈춰 줄래 빠지기 싫어 싫어 싫어 ❞ — please stop right there, I don’t don’t don’t want to fall for you

❝ 단지 너의 외로움을 단래긴 싫거든 ❞ — I don’t only want to soothe your loneliness

❝ 시작해 버린 순간 못 헤어나올 걸 아니까 ❞ — because from the moment it starts, I know I can’t break free

❝ 점점 멈추기 힘들어 갈 수록 중독돼 ❞ — it’s getting harder to stop, I’m getting more addicted to you

Songs used — 121u by Day6 and sOng Of ice and fire by OnlyOneOf

#bottom male reader #x male reader #sub male reader #uke male reader #male reader #oc x reader #mlm ns/fw #smut drabble #male bottom reader #original character

2K notes · View notes

slttygeto · 3 months ago

Text

STICKY | TOJI & SHIU

note: is this the part 2 of that one toji and shiu threesome? yes. yes it is. 👀

cw: overstimulation, crying, oral, cunt slaps, toji is a little mean.

“rub her clit, she likes that.”

despite being so possessive of you, toji finds himself sitting on the other side of the L shaped couch while shiu pounded into you with everything he got. your soft “ah”s and the heart eyes you gave the man drilling his cock into you should’ve made toji mad, it should’ve angered him—but fuck, he was so turned on.

“fuck meee,” shiu grunts under his breath and his rough hands hold the back of your thighs as he pushes your legs to your chest. he chuckles to himself when you gasp in surprise, feeling him deeper inside you. while toji was the whole package, both girth and length size, shiu was a bit longer with a fat tip that kept nudging at your walls in a dizzying manner.

“fuck, she knows how to take dick,” shiu praises you as though you’re not even there, furrowed eyebrows and sweaty forehead making him look even more attractive.

“of course she does,” your boyfriend says, a little pissed. “should see her when i come back after a long mission.”

“needy?” shiu looks over his shoulder with a grin.

“she hops on my dick like a bitch in heat,” toji finally stands up from the couch and makes his way towards the both of you. he kneels down and his hand strokes your tear stained cheeks and brushes the hair sticking to your face.

“spreads those legs for me, lets me eat that pussy til I memorize the shape—you’re too good for me, aren’t you?” you nod eagerly and part your lips. toji’s thumb brushes your bottom lip and when you try to lick at his finger, he simply pushes it down on your tongue and turns to shiu.

“pull out.”

the command brings you out of your hazy state and you’re about to complain. shiu might’ve been teasing you for the past hour, but you were still close. so close.

“toji—“ you try to keep shiu’s dick inside you but your boyfriend gently smacks your wrist and clicks his tongue.

“can’t believe you’re begging for another man’s cock. am I not enough for you?”

“n-no! no you’re so good—“ you let out a small squeak when toji grips your hips and turns you his way. his mouth lands directly on top of your clit and your back arches off of the couch as you gasp for air.

“fuck,” shiu whispers under his breath, hand stroking his dick slow at the sight. toji was a messy eater for sure, drool and arousal started to pool beneath you the louder you got, and your hands knew better than to grip his hair. you held onto his face while his tongue flicked your clit a couple of times before pressing hard on it. he sucked, licked and kissed until your body was twitching with every touch.

he doesn’t break eye contact, staring into your soul the whole time he is sucking on your clit, teasing your folds with his middle and ring fingers—and when he pushes into your tight hole—your entire body stiffens up.

“oh my god—!” toji doesn’t show mercy as he fingerfucks you, a hand pressing down on your stomach whilst he pistons his fingers in and out of you at an inhumane pace. you spread your legs wider, hands gripping the pillow and your body arching off of the couch when his thumb brushes against your sensitive clit.

“yeah baby, yeah,” toji’s grin is wide as he praises you. “fucking give it to me, make a mess on my fingers dirty girl—show him how dirty you can be for me.” you whimper at the mention of shiu. you forgot he’s there and you try your best not to stare at him—but the wet sound of his cock gliding against his hand is hard to ignore and your eyes land on him.

shiu looks like a mess. wet strands stuck to his sweaty forehead and his flushed cheeks making your eyes roll to the back of your head. you can’t take this. two hot men in one room with you—one ruining your pussy whilst the other ruins his cock to the image of you getting your pussy destroyed.

“make a mess baby, give it to me—“ you don’t realize you’re squirting all over toji until he starts rubbing your clit fast, a chuckle escaping his lips.

“yeaaaah, fuck yeah!”

“toji!” you squeal and try to close your legs when he slaps your cunt, a sob rips from the back of your throat when he does it again and you have to hold onto his shoulders.

“oh my god, oh my god-“ you’re certain you’re gonna pass out. and very soon.

shiu pushes toji out of the way and you’re surprised that your boyfriend didn’t grab his gun and shot the man at the gesture—but instead he watches as the usually composed man gets lost between your legs, tongue lapping at your juices and nose brushing against your overstimulated clit.

“please—“ you sob and your hands land on shiu’s head, trying to push him away.

“can’t give me one, princess? just one?” at this point there are tears streaming down your face, but shiu reaches towards you and wipes your cheeks with his thumb.

“I know you can do it,” he says before landing a kiss to your stomach. “for me.”

“oi,”

He drags his tongue down to your pussy and you shudder. “for toji.”

“don’t push it.”

shiu doesnt even acknowledge your boyfriend as he lays his tongue flat against your clit. your thighs shake, but you know you can take it—you will cum fast, but you can take it.

and it doesn’t take you long before your suffocating shiu between your thighs, the man having to keep your legs open as his lips wrap around your clit and he laughs at you writhing under his touch.

“good girl,” he starts to climb on top of you, his teeth playfully biting your nipple and you gasp in surprise. “you did so well.”

#moon's works #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen smut #toji smut #toji x reader #toji x reader smut #shiu smut #shiu x reader smut #toji fushiguro #fushiguro toji

1K notes · View notes

cinnamorollcrybaby · 4 days ago

Text

Mama, I’m in love with a criminal

Tags: Sukuna x fem!Reader, no curse au, dead dove, violence described including murder, dark romance, use of y/n, descriptions of mental illness.

Synopsis: Sukuna’s talking to his therapist in jail about you. He’s incarcerated because of you, and his obsession is concerning.

An: Yeah idk i thought of this while I was driving to work one morning.

Session one.

His large frame laid lazily over the couch, clad in an orange jumpsuit. He had his feet propped up on one side, and his head was propped up on the other side in a far too casual manner. His naturally pink hair pushed up near the front, messily so.

He was still cuffed and shackled, but the therapist was still afraid of him. To the therapist’s credit, he had read the warrant that went into viscous detail of Sukuna’s crimes.

Normally, the therapist wouldn’t read the inmates warrants due to situations like these. He liked going into sessions with an open mind, but he had gotten warnings about Sukuna… how the man can fly into a blind rage like a switch on the wall.

He was brutal, unforgivable, inhumane.

Simple counseling wasn’t going to “fix” a broken human like Sukuna. The therapist knew this, but the state mandated that Sukuna undergo weekly counseling sessions per his sentence.

Sukuna could taste the therapist’s fear, and he let out an earnest laugh. “You don’t even want to try to fix me, do you?” He asked tauntingly with a lopsided grin. “I don’t blame you. Don’t feel bad~”

The therapist swallowed the lump in his throat, and he adjusted in his seat. “I can’t fix anyone… Counseling isn’t about fixing.. It’s about moving forward and learning how to live.”

“Bullshit.” Sukuna spits with shrug. “Counseling is about focusing on the past and letting shit hang you up for far too long. I guarantee you that you’re going to ask me about how I got here, is that right?”

The therapist is shaking like a leaf at this point. “Our past can help us navigate to a better future.” He murmured out weakly.

Sukuna roars in laughter, causing the therapist to nearly jump out of his seat. The pink-haired felon doubles over as he laughs hysterically. “You’re a funny guy. Fine. You really want to know how I got here? I’ll tell you.”

After a deep breath and wiping away a fake tear, Sukuna goes on, “You know, teachers always believe that pairing the troubled kids up with the good kids will inspire them to act right. That shit never works.”

“I think that’s when my ‘type’ developed. My bitch of a second-grade teacher assigned me to sit next to this frail meek girl after I got in trouble one too many times for terrorizing the other kids. She was a real stick in the mud.” Sukuna laughs fondly, a rare genuine smile on his face.

“Y/n?” The therapist asks, remembering your name from the warrants.

Sukuna’s red eyes snap over to the therapist with an almost predatory gaze. His hands visibly curl into fists. “Say her name again, and I’ll splatter your blood all over this room. The officers won’t be able to pry me from you, deeming you to be a lost cause.”

The therapist freezes as the breath hitches in his throat. His eyes dart toward his panic button, knowing he should probably press it now, but he’s frozen in fear.

“We’ll call her mouse.” Sukuna goes on as if he didn’t just threaten the poor guy’s life in brutal detail.

“Mouse was a real challenge. I for some reason made it my mission to get her to talk to me, but she always stayed silent — only answering me with simple head gestures.” He laughs again, lying his head back further as he’s replaying the memories in his mind. He can remember you vividly and how you looked back then. He yearns for that feeling again. The feeling of seeing you for the first time.

“I can’t exactly tell you when the challenge started to border obsession, but she slowly slithered her way into my brain. Even when I wasn’t in school, I thought about her. I wondered what she sounded like, wondered why she wouldn’t talk to me, wondered why she looked at me like that.”

The therapist furrows his eyebrows. Even though he doesn’t feel safe in this session, and he doesn’t trust Sukuna at all, he has a hunger for knowledge, and he loves solving things that have to do with the human psyche.

“Looked at you like what?” The therapist dared to ask.

Sukuna stayed silent for a moment, and he tapped his finger against the back of his hand. His face hardened as he found the words he was looking for. “She looked at me like she had no preconceived notion of me. Her eyes… were so big and round. Even though she didn’t talk to me, it was like she accepting of my presence.”

The shackles jingled as Sukuna rubbed his face in a stressed gesture. Remembering you was like a double edged sword. He loved thinking about you, but he hated being reminded that he was without you.

The therapist eased in his chair. There was actual emotions underneath all those tattoos, thick skin, and muscle. The media had portrayed Sukuna as a complete narcissistic sociopath, but this was proof that diagnosis was false.

“I bothered the shit out of her for years, continually getting myself paired up with her.” Sukuna grinned, shifting the conversation back in a direction that he was more comfortable with, “I remember those asshole kids always called me her shadow because I followed her everywhere. Jokes on them.”

The therapist shivered as be remembered a chilling detail from the warrants. Each time a victim was found, a message was written in the victim’s blood.

-ʏᴏᴜʀ ꜱʜᴀᴅᴏᴡ

His victim’s - their deaths were like an homage to you.

“Were the kids ever… assholes to mouse?”

Sukuna’s jaw visibly tightened. He loathed this therapist’s questions… thinking he knew everything just because you and Sukuna were misunderstood kids.

“They called her weird for not talking.” Sukuna recalled as he bit his inner cheek. His eyes glared to the wall in front of him. “Now look at who can’t talk.”

Sukuna’s first victim. He didn’t start out with murder. He started out with stapling your bullies mouth shut for taunting you. Everything was for you. Everything.

He held a kid down to the teacher’s in third grade, grabbing a stapler, and he pressed it down one by one into the kids lips, binding them together. The kid couldn’t scream or cry for help, or else he’d risk ripping the flesh on his lips.

The teachers found the kid and immediately knew the only kid sadistic enough to go through with such an act was none other than Sukuna.

“Did mouse witness you do that?” The therapist asked, genuinely intrigued by Sukuna’s narrative. For being a ruthless criminal, he was a wonderful historian.

“No. Why would I scare her like that?” Sukuna’s voice was tense as he eyed the therapist carefully, as if he was waiting for him to say the wrong thing.

The therapist clicks his tongue in surprise, and he looks like a deer in headlights. “Scare? No.. no, I thought you’d maybe just show off what you did for her.”

“I’m not the type to show off.” Sukuna answers flatly, and the therapist wonders if that’s the first time Sukuna’s lied during this session. He knows that Sukuna likes to show off. The warrants prove it.

“Anyways, I wore her down over the years. She didn’t speak to me until we were in sixth grade.” An eerie smile curls on Sukuna’s lip. “I can still remember her first word to me and how she said it…”

The therapist leaned in, curiosity getting best of him.

Sukuna smirks, knowing he has the therapist interested now. “Her first word to me was a plea. A word to show her undeniable want. Her first word to me was please.”

Bang! Bang Bang!

The therapist literally flinches out of his chair from the heavy knocks at the door.

“Ryomen! Your time is up!” The officer yelled on the other side of the door.

“Pity. I was beginning to have fun.” Sukuna remarked as he stood up from the couch. The shackles jingled as he walked toward the door, and the door buzzed, letting him out. “See you next week, doc.”

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk fanfic #fanfic #drabble #jjk sukuna #sukuna x y/n #sukuna x you #jujutsu sukuna #sukuna ryomen #sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna #sukuna #jjk ryomen #ryomen x reader #jujutsu kaisen ryomen #dark romance

1K notes · View notes

yanderenightmare · 4 months ago

Text

Ryomen Sukuna

TW: captive reader, no-name character deaths, Sukuna in general

fem reader

Sukuna, in his true form some thousand years ago, carrying you on his arm so that your feet and dress don’t stain with the blood on the floor. A sea of carnage he’d laid to waste only a moment ago—soldiers sent to slaughter the monster’s concubine, a heathenness whore. They’d fallen no different from flowers trampled underfoot.

It's a tragedy. If anyone could free you from his prison, it would have been them.

A heavy finger catches the tear dribbling down your face before it can fall to join the red below. “Don’t water them with your tears,” he says, bringing the droplet to his lips. “Not even in death do they deserve it.”

You view his second face—the warped array of eyes upon an inhuman mask—as a punishment from the Gods for his vile ways.

“Did you think I’d find it flattering?” you ask sharply through the sorrow. “Murder in my name?”

Nothing betrays the look in his garnet eyes, nor does the way he holds you. He simply lets you sit there, upon him like a thrown, admonishing him no less—as if he hadn’t just saved your life from a thousand swords.

“I don’t,” you bite out when he doesn’t answer. “It sickens me. I curse whichever part of me attracted such a monster.”

That makes him smile. “I’m afraid that’s all of you, turtledove.” He turns you around in his many arms and lays you to rest like a bride. “From your toes to the finest hair atop your head—I covet it all—like treasure.”

He doesn’t rush while wading through the filth who’d tried to take you away from him, basking in their still-warm blood as if soaking his feet with their failure. He would have made it long-lasting if they’d come close enough to breathe the same air as you. But since you’d begged for him to spare them, he’d acted with mercy—making their deaths quick and all but painless.

The things he does for you.

“Does it frighten you to be the only one I care about?” he asks.

You look disgusted. He finds it rather cute.

“No,” you reply. “It simply hurts.”

He throws his head back and laughs then—boisterously. The echo rings throughout the temple, even making ripples in the red. When he looks down at you again, he bears a great smile.

“Fine then, as you wish.” Evidence of his amusement remains while he speaks. “I won’t subject you to any more carnage from this moment onward.”

You know better than to take him for his word—especially when that awful grin stretches his face.

“No, I shall rather keep you tucked away where no one will ever dare go looking—and before I even dare come see you myself, I’ll make sure to have washed the filth off first so as not to trouble your pretty head with my savage habits. Now, does that sound satisfactory to you, my Queen?”

He’s mocking you, you surmise—cooing at you, laughing at the way you mourn. But it shouldn’t surprise you. If he can rip people to shreds without so much as batting any of his eyes, making light of their deaths isn’t all that more of an offense.

“All this inanity has given me an appetite,” he states with a hearty sigh—dismissing any further argument. “Let’s find Uraume and eat.”

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA masterlist ♡ JUJUTSU KAISEN masterlist

#yandere sukuna x reader #sukuna ryomen #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna jjk #ryoumen sukuna #jjk sukuna #yandere jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen #jjk imagines #jjk #jjk x reader #yandere jjk #yandere sukuna ryomen #yandere sukuna #yandere ryomen sukuna

2K notes · View notes

bandgie · 4 months ago

Text

Good Pup

human!minho x puppy!reader x puppy!seungmin

synopsis: Minho is certain that no matter how much you disagree, your new weredog friend, Kim Seungmin, is not someone he can get along with. However, they have no choice but to team up when your first heat makes its way into the night. Maybe you were right, they do get along, even if it's just a little bit.

7.3k words (damn)

warnings! MDNI 18+, fem!reader, 3some, PIV, no protection, knotting, biting (slight blood), jealousy, bff!minho, coworker!seungmin, double penetration, heat, sex pill, pussy eating, humping (brief), super light mxm themes, minho and seungmin don't like each other

In this world, Minho thinks there are two types of people. And no, it doesn’t have anything to do with what kind of job you work or what your passion is. It doesn’t even matter if you’re a hybrid; the ones mixed with all sorts of animals with human DNA. No, none of those matter to him. People, fully human or not, all boil down to one thing.

Cats or dogs.

See, Minho likes to think of himself as a cat person. Someone who prefers to have leisure in their own time. Someone who doesn’t need constant stimulation from people or conversations. He’s content with being alone, satisfied even. Maybe Minho doesn’t have a furry tail or pointed ears that flick at the slightest sound unlike the werecats he sees daily, but his human identity doesn't stop him from thinking of himself - or anyone for that fact - as either cat or dog.

Despite living a rather secluded life, Minho doesn’t mind the few friends he keeps close, both human and feline. He does, however, mind dogs like any cat would. They’re too noisy, too needy, and too happy for no god-damn reason. Being surrounded by so much energy drains him quickly, and although Minho likes to think of himself as a lover of all animals, dogs are just… difficult. So you being one of his closest friends is such a mystery to him.

It doesn't matter how many times you’ve seen Minho. Your tail always swishes when you see him approaching, even now through the crowd of people. It wacks the nearby pedestrians walking and you embarrassingly apologize, grabbing your shaggy tail to try and prevent it from moving. And no matter how many times Minho sees you get so giddy just by looking at him, he smiles.

Just a little bit.

“You’re gonna kill someone with that thing,” he says once he’s close enough. You roll your eyes at him, the complete opposite of the thumping of your tail in your grasp. “Oh shut up. You made me wait in this heat. I should kill you for that.”

“In front of all these witnesses? You’d make a terrible hitman.” Minho can tell you’re irritated even with your happy tail. Your floppy ears are down, sweat beads on your forehead, and trickles down the sides of your face. The nails on your fingers are darker and sharper than usual. He recalls you complaining about the heat, but the forecast showed cloudy skies. Minho would hardly call it a hot day, not even a warm one.

Something’s up.

But like any cat person, he doesn’t say anything about his observations. “I say we get out of the sun and into the convenience store before you start plotting my murder. I’ll pay.” It’s his way of trying to make you feel better with whatever you’re stressed about. It seems to work by your nodding. Your tail is relaxed enough for you to set it down, using the back of your hand to wipe the perspiration that drips down to your neck. “That sounds good. And you don’t have to worry about tonight. The company’s paying for the dinner and drinks.” That familiar wolfish smile finds your lips, pulling back enough to show pointy canines.

Minho is always captivated by your mouth. The way it can twist so inhumanely from the plumpness of your lips to the sharpness of your teeth. His eyes lower just for a split second before he says, “Even for me? A plus one?”

“I’ll make sure,” you say with certainty. “They’ve been working me like a dog, no pun intended, and this is their way of making up to everyone busting their ass to make deadlines. If I don’t get my Scooby-snack, I will actually kill someone.”

That sputters a laugh from him. Minho takes his place beside you to begin your journey to the market while giggles keep spilling. “If you’re Scooby, does that make me Shaggy?” There’s still a smile on his face even when you shake your head, following his steps. “Nah. You’re more like Scrappy-Doo.”

Okay, there is something definitely wrong with you. Minho is well aware that weredogs enjoy being in close proximity. There have been multiple occasions of your tail tickling his arm, of your skin brushing against his while you walk. Hell, he’s even indulged in kinship by patting your head and letting his fingers caress your ears. It usually doesn’t take much for you to be satisfied with those simple touches, but today you seem…needy.

And it’s not just Minho who notices. Customers, humans and were-creatures alike, see how much you cling to him. The tail that was happily dancing half an hour ago now wraps around his torso. He can feel it against his back and he finds himself enjoying this strange hug.

Minho would usually say something. Maybe tease you and tell you to keep your tail to yourself, but something tells him that isn't the best idea right now.

You’re hardly talking. The yapping puppy he’s so familiar with is nowhere to be seen even though you're right next to him. Standing so close that he can feel your body heat that he swears is hotter than usual.

Maybe he should enjoy the peace and quiet that he rarely gets with you, but Minho is itching for his pup.

“You okay?”

There, he said it. Minho is so used to you talking without being asked to the point that he covers his ears just to drown out your words. You would whine, ears pulling down while tugging at his arms. “Listen to meee!”

But instead he has to coax it out of you this time. You pull your attention away from the snacks to look at him. “Huh? Yeah no, I’m good. I have been feeling out of it recently but I think it’s just my job. Sorry, am I being boring?”

Reassurance. One of the most common needs for a weredog. To hear that they’re needed with some praise. To put it in simple terms, you want to hear that you’re being a good girl. At this point, Minho is willing to do and say anything to get you back to normal.

“Boring? I never said that. Hanging out with you is the highlight of my week…even if your furry friend keeps smacking my back.” And just like that, your eyes shine with both happiness and embarrassment. You take back control of your tail and scold it, “Stop annoying my friend.” You swat at it gently and push it back down behind you.

Minho doesn’t even notice his hand reaching out to pet you before he can stop it. His soft palm makes contact with your hair, ruffling it before moving to your ears.

People nearby stare but Minho hardly cares. There’s something about bystanders knowing the reason for your soft rumbling and gleeful expression is because of him. Weird want, but Minho’s heard that weredogs just have that type of effect on people. Plus, Minho’s your friend. Friends are always there to help each other out and Minho just happens to be your best.

It doesn’t take much after that to get you back to your talkative self.

“Like, I just feel bad, ya know?” You say, reaching for a meaty sandwich in the deli section of the convenience store. “No one talks to him at work and he’s always alone at lunch. Like, yeah he has a scary face and doesn’t talk to anyone, but that doesn’t mean he’s a bad person.” A triple meat sandwich catches your attention and Minho watches your curved nails reach for the packaging.

Minho inspects the drinks. “Maybe he has that scary face and doesn’t talk to anybody because he doesn’t want to talk to anybody.”

You roll your eyes, adding your find to the small basket looped around Minho’s arm. “Yeah, and I could say the same thing about you.” You poke his broad chest with a nail. The pain is hardly there, but Minho fakes a wounded expression and grabs his pec dramatically. “I'm bleeding!”

“Oh shut up. You’re just trying to change the subject because you know I’m right.”

“Right about what?” Minho ditches his act. “About the fact that I don’t like talking to anybody? Good job, Sherlock.” The good job makes your tail sway just slightly and Minho smiles when he sees it.

“Oh? Then what are you doing right now with me?” You cross your arms and stare at him.

“Replying.”

“Which is…”

“Communicating.”

“And another word for that is…”

“...Moving my mouth.”

“You’re impossible.” you laugh. “Anywho, he just reminds me of how it was when we first met. You being brooding, quiet and me being awesome, of course.” The two of you venture further down the aisle. “What is it that you once told me? Something about people being dogs and cats?”

“Dogs or cats,” he corrects. “What about it?” Minho abruptly stops his steps when he sees jelly. Despite being human, you can practically see his pupils grow wide at the sight of them.

“So based on the description I gave you, which do you think he is?”

Minho doesn’t answer immediately, can’t when his favorite dessert is quite literally on display. So many choices, so many flavors. He should buy one of each for taste testing. A couple of seconds go by before he registers your question. “Oh. Um, you said he’s like me?”

You nod, “Mhm.”

“Then cat, obviously.” Minho chooses a coffee and vanilla flavor. He imagines you’ll prefer the coffee one. When he turns to face you, he’s surprised to see that you’re smiling, as if already knowing he was going to say that.

“But get this,” you hop on one leg to the other in weredog behavior. “He’s a were-dog! Like me! I don’t know what breed but I’ve never met a fellow pup so…cat. You might like him.”

Minho scoffs at your playful wink, “Don’t try setting me up on playdates. I’m fine with the friends I have now.”

You whine, a high-pitched noise coming from the back of your throat. It used to startle Minho, but now he’s grown accustomed to ignoring your complaints until you’re both at the counter emptying the basket.

The cashier is a young werefox. He has slender eyes that stick out, enhancing his hard jaw and smooth skin. As if tired of the day, the said fox scans the items lazily, saying a standard, "Is that gonna be all?” before shoving the goodies in a black bag.

“Well, whatever,” you smooth your puppy ears. “He’s gonna be at the dinner tonight, so you’re meeting him regardless.”

For some reason, the fox suddenly looks interested. He picks his head up and looks between Minho and you. He sniffs and jolts. Minho narrows his eyes, subtly tucking his head to his armpit and smelling. Does he stink? Minho’s thinking about changing his body wash when the cashier sniffs again, but his eyes lock on you instead.

In all werefox manner, the cashier shifts his gaze to Minho and gives a sly smile. “These are on the house.” He snatches a package so quickly off the counter that Minho can’t tell what it is as the cashier shoves it inside the bag. The fox slides the purchases to Minho, looking at you once more before winking, “Have fun tonight.”

Minho is quick to get you both out of there. Your ears are up straight, tail hanging loose between your legs while looking back. Since your tail isn’t tucked between your legs or abnormally stiff, Minho thinks he shouldn’t be too worried. But the encounter was strange, no matter how brief.

“Did you know that guy?” You say once you’re waiting for Minho to unlock his car.

He shakes his head, “Nah. Let’s just go.”

You don’t argue with that. Your ears flick at the sound of the door unlocking and you quickly find your seat inside the warm car. The image of the cashier crosses your mind and you look at Minho. “What’d he put in the bag?”

But Minho had already tossed the said bag in the backseat. He shrugs, “Don’t know. I’ll check it out when I get home.”

Short sentences, indirect messages to tell you to drop it. Minho is in his cat mood as he ignites the car to life and puts it in reserve. Normally, you’d crack a joke. Saying something to lighten the mood or change the subject, but you’re starting to feel hot all over again. Minho had just put the A/C on, but the warmth of the car has you heating up even more. You feel nauseous and Minho’s human scent plays no aid. Sometimes you get car sick and you’re assuming it’s one of those times. You close your eyes and breathe, telling yourself that you’ll feel better once you get home and take some medication.

It doesn’t matter how sick you are, you have a company dinner tonight that your best friend is attending and you’ll be damned if you missed just because of a little bug.

Minho is absolutely not taking his eyes off you tonight and no it’s not because of how good you look. Sure, maybe your button-up shirt stretches at the top because of how tight it is against your chest and yeah, maybe the black pencil skirt does wonders for your ass but those are not any of the reasons why Minho is watching you like a hawk. No, he’s stuck watching how you’re trying your best to pretend like you aren’t on the verge of turning into a puddle of sweat.

Even the other were-dog you mentioned earlier, Kim Seungmin, notices your strange behavior. Minho sees that his ears are up and that his tail swishes unsure. Still, none of that matters from how giddily you seem chatting it up with him. Something about managing to meet deadlines and confusion about the new code in the system, but it’s all white noise to Minho.

You’re close to Seungmin - a little too close. Minho tells himself over and over that weredogs have an instinct to want to be close, but that doesn’t mean he has to be happy with it.

It looks like your tails are dancing together as they swish, though yours is more erratic. Seungmin’s eyes travel everywhere and Minho is so close to leaning over you just to push him away.

“And the new code we have to use?” You groan. “I absolutely hate it.”

“You?” Seungmin challenges. “Hating something? I don’t believe it.”

Minho watches you scoff, watches the color of your face flush. It’s from your fever, he thinks. He hopes.

Why on Earth would you think he would be able to get along with someone like Seungmin? He was far too quiet when you happily introduced Minho - you’re best friend may he remind you - and didn’t so much as ask what type of job he works. Seungmin may be a cat, but Minho is starting to think he’s beginning to prefer dogs.

The male weredog leans closer to you and Minho straightens. He can hear how deep he inhales before Seungmin turns his head to the side, one ear flopping over. “Are you wearing a new perfume? It smells nice.”

“Oh, thank you.” You turn to your side, finally looking at Minho and smiling at him. His heart squeezes at the sight, how your eyes shine just looking at him. “Minho got it for me a while ago, but I only wear it on special occasions.”

The smirk on Seungmin’s face vanishes once he makes eye contact with Minho. And just like that, the moody expression Minho once wore turns smug. There’s a brief moment between the two men that you don’t see. A dirty look, a sneer, a smirk. It’s such a short interaction that speaks volumes.

Seungmin may be a dog on the outside, but that deadly look screams cat.

“God, why is it so hot in here?” You fan yourself with a hand, looking between your two friends. “I feel like I’m turning into a swamp.”

Minho glances at other people nearby. Your co-workers are drinking, eating, and talking about anything but how hot it is. Your fever must be getting out of hand and Minho is planning on asking you if you two should leave before Seungmin says, “When did your fever start?”

“Um,” you rub your hands together in an attempt to get yourself to stop feeling so antsy. Minho places a friendly hand on your knee. Nothing he’s never done before to soothe you, but you react as if he’s burned you. It feels like his hand sends shivers throughout your body and you can’t help but jolt. A soft whine leaves your lips, and poor Minho who can’t seem to notice that your distress is from his touch, decides to rub his thumb onto your skin.

What feels like buckets of arousal seep your underwear. You get the sudden urge to hump, a stupid weredog antic that you can never seem to get rid of. Your legs tense and you almost close them in an attempt to get some friction with Minho’s hand before you remember that Seungmin asked you a question.

“M-maybe a week ago or something? I think I just ate something bad.” But when you look at Seungmin for his response, he isn’t even facing you. His focus is on your lower half, watching with a predatory look in his eyes as Minho gently strokes his thumb on your thigh. Maybe you should feel weird that your co-worker is looking at you in such a way, but it strangely adds to the sensation Minho’s providing.

Seungmin inhales and groans, too quiet for the chatter of your company to notice but enough for you to accidentally snap your legs closed with Minho’s hand captive.

Then finally, Seungmin looks up between you and Minho and nods to the front door.

“Meet me outside.”

He doesn’t wait for a response before he grabs his jacket and leaves. A few coworkers complain and question him, but he silences them with a mere glare and a respectful, apologetic bow to his boss.

You and Minho look amongst each other and he carefully slides his hand out from the crease of your thighs. The two of you miss the warmth from the touch, but Minho is a little more concerned with how you’ve started to paw and grasp at his hand to get it back on you.

There was such a sense of urgency in Seungmin’s voice. As much as Minho was irritated with how he was looking at you, there was genuine worry there. It would be easy for you two to ditch Seungmin and leave on your own, but something tells him there’s more than just a stomach bug going on.

Minho takes his hand in yours, interlocking your fingers. He nearly hisses at how hot your skin is, but you only howl with satisfaction.

He stands, taking you with him, but your boss is quick to stop you from leaving. “Hey! Now where are you two going?” Shit, of course it wouldn’t be as easy to leave.

“I think she’s had too much to drink, sir.” A lie. You haven’t touched a single drink, but no one here is sober enough to know that. “It would be better to have her sleep it off so she can make it to work tomorrow.”

Minho hopes his excuse is enough and from the belly laugh that your boss gives, he thinks it is.

“I like the way you think! Make sure you take care of her. We’ve got a big project coming up and I need my best workers.”

A thank you, a quick bow, and Minho is quick to grab your things and lead you outside. To his luck, you play the drunk girl perfectly. Your full weight is on his shoulder that you’re leaning on, breathing into his neck and trying to nip his skin.Your tail is so out of control that you whack him and you as Minho walks to Seungmin.

No, this isn’t a fever.

And Seungmin is quick to confirm that the moment he sees how much you’re clinging onto Minho. He covers his mouth and nose with his hand. “Fuck. Your heat's getting bad. Why the fuck did you come in the condition?”

“I-I…no! Seung, I’m not. I can’t.” That seems to snap you out of your trance enough to answer him, but not enough to separate yourself from Minho.

“Heat?” Minho looks at you questioningly. Didn’t you tell me the doctors said you that your animal DNA is too small for heat periods?” Which he believed without question. Minho has known you for years and you’ve never had a heat in that time. Not so much as a story to tell or any suppressors he’s seen.

You look like you’re about to cry even with the hazy look in your eye. “They did! It’s way too late for me to experience my first heat. I’m just sick.”

Seungmin scoffs. “Sick? I don’t think so. Listen, the point is, you need to leave. I don’t mean to sound like a dick, but you’re going to attract were-males with your pheromones.” He looks around protectively and then back at you, putting his hand down. “Okay, I don’t mean to come off weird, but do you think you can…handle it on your own?”

There’s a silence between the three of you. Minho blinks rapidly. Did he hear that right? Is Seungmin, this man he just met tonight, really asking to hook up with you? In front of him? Your best friend?

He must have a death wish. “What the fuck are you saying, man?”

Seungmin averts his gaze to the other male. “Was I talking to you?”

“Seungmin!” You scold.

“Nah, you don’t get it, human. She’s in heat. You’re not going to be able to properly calm her down, or worse, she’s gonna go into a frenzy because you can’t.”

This is exactly why Minho can’t stand weredogs. They’re too obsessed with something that’s not even theirs. “And you think just ‘cuz you’re a dog you can? You don’t know me and you don’t know her. Get your snout out of our business.” Minho pulls you closer. “We’re leaving, let’s go.”

He only manages to get a few steps away before Seungmin spins him around. Being so close to him, Minho realizes he’s taller, but not by much. The ears add the illusion of extra height. It’s the piercing gaze, however, that makes Minho feel small. “Tell me, Minho, have you ever been with a were-female?”

“That’s none of your business. Fuck off.”

“I’ll go ahead and give you the benefit of the doubt and say sure, maybe you have once or twice. But have you ever been with one during their heat? During their first heat? Do you know what a weredog even does in heat? What they need? For fuck's sake, your stupid nose can’t even tell the difference from last week to this week.”

Seungmin takes a step closer until his chest is almost touching Minho’s. So close that you can smell how your heat is affecting him.

“I’m not doing this for a quick fuck and I’m sure as hell not doing it for you. Despite what your little human brain might think, I care. I care enough to make sure that she’ll go home safely and get properly taken care of. I’m not thinking of myself, unlike someone.”

It feels like a slap on the cheek. Minho’s jaw is so clenched that his teeth begin to ache. He wants to tell Seungmin that he doesn’t know what he’s talking about, that he’s wrong - but shit, is he really? Minho isn’t well-versed in weredogs outside of friendships and the hookups he had were all feline or human. It hurts to admit, but he doesn’t know. Minho doesn’t even know what to do with you still clinging onto him and dipping your hands up his shirt to feel his skin.

Fuuuck this.

Minho lets out a deep sigh, almost as if it hurts him to say, “You're not getting in my car. Just follow behind.”

And follow Seungmin does. On the road driving far too fast the speed limit, on the sidewalk leading up to Minho’s house, to the front door that you wobble to, up the stairs that inevitably lead to Minho’s room that you barge into.

The bed is the first thing you go to. Neither of the men have a chance to lay down any ground rules before you bury yourself between the sheets. Minho stares as you inhale his blanket, grabbing his pillow and biting down on it with your canines. It only takes a second before you roll onto your stomach and grind on it, effectively humping his favorite pillow.

No, he isn’t staring anymore, he’s gawking. Minho nearly flinches at the amount of drool his poor pillow has to endure.

“Are you just gonna stand there or what?” Seungmin rasps out. The voice breaks Minho’s attention, and although he knows the weredog beside him is male, he still jumps at the sight.

Seungmin is full of want. His ears are up straight, his tail swishes as if he’s watching a prey, his teeth are bared with a hint of saliva pooling at the corners of his mouth, and if Minho looks down, he could see the outline of a bulging-

“Mmm sorry,” you whine. “Smells so good. Min’ smells so good.” Your hips press up and down deeply, getting that nice friction on your clothed cunt. It looks cute, strangely, to see how desperate you are for a release. Minho would have liked to enjoy the scene longer if it wasn’t for Seungmin losing his patience. It takes a mere three strides for Seungmin’s long legs to reach you, his eyes pupils blown wide.

Within a second, Minho is beside him.

“Don’t get any-”

“Praise her,” Seungmin chokes out. “Pet her, touch her, fuck! Just do something. I’m going crazy.” He forces himself to back away from you, opting to pace around Minho’s room, trying to look for anything to distract himself from the rut he’s about to go in. Seungmin reaches for the bottom of his shirt and begins to hastily undress. He doesn’t even spare a glance at the human when he says, “Get her undressed. Weredogs need skin contact during their heat.”

Easier said than done. You’re clawing Minho’s skin affectionately and reaching for his belt. He feels like he’s wrestling you if he ignores his boner. He manages to unbutton your top, shaky hands reaching back to unclasp your bra but you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him close. Your legs wrap around his torso and bring him in, his cock to your cunt through the many layers of clothes.

“No, takes too long. Just put it in me. I’m so wet already.”

Your voice is a whisper in his ear. Minho realizes it’s because you don’t want Seungmin to hear. To sweeten the deal, you grind on his crotch. Minho’s knees are fully on the bed, giving you a much better angle to hump him instead.

You let out the smallest whine. The tiniest sound of pleasure from something other than masturbating, but Seungmin hears it. He whips his head quickly and rushes to you two with a small package in his hand.

Minho’s able to make it out when he gets closer. It’s from when you and him went to the convenience store earlier. When the fox cashier shot his sly smile and said, These are on the house. Have fun tonight.

“I don’t even want to know where you got these pills,” Seungmin tosses the package to Minho. “Take it now. It should have an effect within 5 minutes.”

Knot Cock! The package reads. INSTRUCTIONS: take 5-10 minutes prior to intercourse with weredog. Do not mix with other genitalia-morphing pills. drowsiness and mild pain are-

“Jesus fuck,” Seungmin moans. “Your pussy smells so good.”

Minho rips the package open and discards the warnings. He can read it later. Right now, he’s focused on dry swallowing the pill, finally removing his clothes, and helping Seungmin take off your skirt.

Strings of arousal stick to your underwear as the material goes down your legs. You whine at the cold air, but Seungmin is quick to reassure you. “Good. Good. You’re doing such a good job. I’m almost done, baby.”

A scowl appears on Minho’s expression when he glances at Seungmin. It’s hard to just look at his face when the two men are naked. It’s far too easy to notice the flush in Seungmin’s chest and cock. How different, yet similar, it looks to his own.

They’re doing this together, why is he taking all the credit? He’s not even supposed to be here, he’s just helping. “I got you,” Minho emphasizes. He places his hand on your bare thighs and gently spreads them apart.

In all its glory, your cunt shines with arousal. For a brief moment, the men stare. There’s no arguing with your pussy doing all the talking, wetness seeping through your folds as if it’s crying. It’s only seconds they take time drooling over you, but too many seconds too long. You impatiently reach your hand down and spread your lower lips, using your other hand to rub your fluttering hole.

“Please, pleaseplease-”

Seungmin moves first, much to Minho’s displeasure. A growl emits from his chest as Seungmin peels your hands away from your cunt. Saliva drips down his chin - down his neck. Minho thinks he might eat you, but Seungmin opts to devour your cunt.

The sound that leaves you is more of a howl than a moan. A noise of appreciation and pleasure at every swipe of his tongue. Seungmin’s throat vibrates with his grunts, it bobs with every gulp. You thread one hand into his hair and the other entwines with Minho’s fingers. Minho can’t tell if he’s squeezing your hand or if you're squeezing his, but it doesn’t matter. Not when a foreign haze begins to take hold of his senses, a pressure in his cock he’s never felt before.

Minho tears his gaze from Seungmin eating you out to see his cock enlarged. He’s never seen it so big and red. He’s especially never had a ring at the base, a near-identical state of Seungmin’s. The shock almost distracts him from the urge he’s getting - the urge to push Seungmin aside, to have you close to him in every and any way possible.

Crap, the pill is working a lot better than Minho would have guessed.

To try and fight the effects, Minho leans down to get a taste of your cunt. The scent of you grows stronger, but Minho isn’t able to get his lick in when Seungmin pulls away to growl at him. Much to Minho’s horror, he growls back. The men bare their teeth, a clear sign of intimidation and Minho doesn’t back away from even with Seungmin’s sharp canines.

You, however, notice the clash of pheromones. You hear the snarls loud enough to pick your head up and focus your dilated pupils. Roughly, you move your hands to grip the back of their heads and force them into your cunt. They bonk their foreheads slightly, a soft whine coming from Seungmin and a final snarl from Minho before they succumb to your taste.

They can’t notice how their tongues mix and clash, or maybe they do, but sucking on your clit outweighs the fact. You can’t find yourself to care when their tongues move as if they’re fighting. One muscle pushes the other out of the way just for it to do it back. It’s almost cute if it was in any other situation, but you still smile and moan when one tongue flicks your clit.

Without needing to speak to each other, the men silently agree to move together to hear you again. Starting towards the bottom of your clit, Minho and Seungmin glide up. You tremble and squeal when the tips of their tongue continuously flick at your bud, but they graciously dip back down. Looking at how they suck your clit only amplifies the feeling of pleasure, but you can’t look away. It’s a hypnotic sight, watching their tongues lap up and down, watching the saliva spread to your thighs and pelvis from how much they lick.

You could cum just like this, looking into their eyes with your cunt in their mouth, but you don’t want to finish like that. Your heat makes it so that it feels painful to be empty no matter how their tongues tease your entrance. The only thing you need to be satisfied is to be full. So full of cum that it leaks for weeks after. To be stuffed and properly bred into with any male. They may have fought in the beginning, but you’re beyond elated for your first heat to be with them.

It’s far too hard to use words, not when you're panting and moaning with every lick, but you manage to get out small, nonono’s that make Seungmin’s ears perk up. Minho takes the opportunity to fully be on your cunt, sucking and dragging his tongue while Seungmin paws up to you.

He doesn’t have to ask, his eyes say it all with the worry and arousal in them.

“Fuck me.” Gosh, you’ve never been so direct before. “No more licking just please. It hurts.” You place a hand on your stomach, emphasizing the emptiness. “Wanna be full.”

Minho swears when Seungmin rips his head from your cunt. He;’s forced off with Seungmin’s fingers in his hair. Minho might have snarled again, but he heard your begging. Heard how the two of them eating you out did little to help your heat. It was only a matter of time before either of them was inside you, but the real question is who. Maybe Minho would have been more open, thinking more logically, about letting Seungmin go first, but the drug in his system makes it so the most important thing is having you to himself.

The look Minho gives Seungmin is deadly. “I’m going first.”

Seungmin doesn’t so much as acknowledge his words - can’t when he’s already stroking his cock and balancing himself on his knees. Minho hates how he succumbs to the drug, shoving Seungmin so hard that he nearly falls off the bed. “I said -” But Seungmin doesn’t let Minho finish, interrupting the older male with a just-as-hard push.

“Stop,” you all but whisper. They look at you and the expression on your face makes them obey, save for the teeth. “I…I want both. Can’t I have both?”

Is that even possible? Minho can only imagine how difficult it would be to take two cocks, let alone knots that will surely have your pussy expanding. It seems like Seungmin is thinking the same thing based on his confused expression, but his rut makes him just as clueless as Minho.

The men look at each other, eyes clear for the first time in a while. No words are needed to come to a silent agreement. Minho tucks himself between you and the bed, flipping you the other way until you’re chest-to-chest with your best friend. Seungmin stays on his knees on the bed, his cock pointed at your entrance. It takes a bit more adjusting before you’re nicely sandwiched between the two and you wouldn’t have it any other way. Their scent covers you perfectly with their skin on every inch of yours.

You’ve never gotten the experience to nest, but you assume it feels something like this.

Minho’s erection sits between your thighs, hot and heavy. You should feel weird, gross even, having your closest friend getting ready to fuck you. That feeling never happens. Not even as you lift your hips for Minho to grab his cock and angle it towards your cunt.

“Tell me-” He moans when you slide your cunt against his tip. “T-tell me if it hurts.”

You would have laughed if you could. Feeling genuine pain seems impossible in your state, but you nod anyway.

Minho doesn’t waste time rubbing his dick on your cunt. His cock is throbbing so painfully that the only relief is sinking into you.

Inch by inch, he enters. The tip flares more than it normally would, not that you would know, and the stretch has you whining into his chest. His scent calms you and you suck on his skin to further soothe yourself. Minho isn’t going as slow as he wants to. He’s trying to open you up gently, but your cunt is so warm, so soft, that he can’t help himself from fucking into you until his artificial knot prevents him from going deeper.

Veins bulge from Minho’s neck. He’s never had sex like this - he’s never had such an urge to claim, to breed. His cock is unbelievably sensitive and your pussy feels like heaven. He groans, hands going to your ass to squeeze the pulp flesh.

It’s then that he feels a different set of hands that he’s reminded of the actual male were-dog. “I’m in. You can-”

Seungmin, who’s been patiently sitting, pushes into you without any further instruction. The intrusion makes you yip from surprise. Minho’s ears pick up on the sound and a sense of inhumane protection overcomes him. He thinks you’re in pain from the small howl, but you moan almost immediately after. Seungmin thrusts into you much quicker, much faster than Minho had initially.

“Finally.” It sounds guttural from Seungmin’s throat. “Been waiting forever.”

Unlike Minho, who at least tries to savor the feeling of your walls wrapped around his cock, Seungmin ruts into you. The force of his thrusts makes you rock against Minho’s length. You let out little squeals and whimpers with every move right into Minho’s ear. If he wanted, Minho could finish just like this. With Seungmin’s cock rubbing against his own and your pussy moving just enough for some friction.

But Minho doesn’t want to just cum.

He wants to carve himself in you. To make his mark in the deepest part of you. Minho places his feet flat on the bed to properly thrust. It only takes one time to have you biting down his chest, your sharp teeth digging painfully into his skin.

“Fuck!” Minho’s flesh tastes of salt and desire. “Fuuuuck…”

Seungmin puts his hands on your lower back, causing you to arch at just the right angle for their tips to kiss your cervix. They buck up into you with different tempos, one going in while the other goes out. It’s an endless feeling of being filled. You swear you can feel them touching the back of your throat with how deep they are.

Distantly, you can feel the wetness of Seungmin’s drool dripping onto your ass. Pulling your teeth from Minho’s chest, you turn back to see just as you thought. Seungmin’s eyes are blown wide, tail stiff and pointed upwards with his flat tongue hanging out. He probably doesn’t even notice the mess he’s making on your back with his eyes locked where you three connect.

Minho groans at the welt from the wound you’ve left, but the pain is quickly forgotten at your tightening walls. He's astonished, truthfully, at how much your cunt can open. How eager it is to be pumped and used until it’s satisfied. Words can’t seem to leave him though, he can’t tell you how much he loves feeling your cunt and Seungmin’s cock working together.

No, instead, the noises he’s making are eerily similar to Seungmin. To try and quiet himself, Minho buries his face into your neck. He licks and sucks the skin there, gripping your ass harder as he manages to finally match his pace with the were-dog.

With your scent (and with the help of the pill) he understands why you bit him. What better way to claim you than both on the inside and outside? His teeth graze the sensitive part of your neck. You whine, lifting your neck higher to allow Minho better access. It’s not as easy to do with your body jolting from their thrusts, but Seungmin is quick to help.

He uses a hand to grip your hair, lifting you so high that your chest completely lifts from Minho’s. You whimper at the sudden movement, but the men are quick to kiss each side of your throat in apology. The new angle has you gushing overwhelmingly. Minho might have to buy a new mattress entirely.

“Feel that?” Seungmin glances at Minho. “Feel that pussy clenching?”

Minho can’t find the will to pull his lips away from you, so he looks back at Seungmin in acknowledgment.

“That’s her telling us to cum in it. Ready to be bred like a good pup, huh?” He shakes his fist with your hair in his hand.

You let him wiggle your head, nodding along with the movements. Seungmin grunts with approval and keeps your neck bare to them. Their movements grow sloppy, suddenly unable to keep a solid rhythm with their cocks pushing deeper and deeper until you know it’s only a matter of time before their knots fill you. You feel your saliva drip down your chin and Minho is gracious enough to kiss the drool away.

Seungmin’s claws dig into your back and scalp and Minho’s blunt nails squeeze the flesh of your ass. They snarl, though this time, it’s far from how it was before.

“Shit. How are you still so tight with two cocks in you?” Minho grunts out. His teeth nip your throat and Seungmin mimics on the other side. “So close, pup.” Seungmin sucks harshly on your bruising flesh. “Gonna take our knots so good.”

“So good,” you confirm. “Give it to me. Min’... Seung’. I need it.”

It’s in unison that they bite you. Minho’s dull teeth hurt compared to Seungmin’s pointed canines, but the stinging on your neck is nothing compared to the stretch between your legs when they force their knots in. You nearly scream from the intrusion, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you finally, finally cum with every cell in your body.

Your cunt expands with the spurts of cum from their cocks. It’s impossible for anything to drip out of your cunt, their dicks are perfectly made to ensure your pussy swallows everything. Their growls are loud in your ears, possessive and satisfied with their knot being buried in you. Minho is first to pull his teeth away from you, licking the mark better until he moves to a different spot to suck. Seungmin, on the other hand, opts to bite harder, ensuring his teeth will leave marks you’ll have to cover up. It’s not until he tastes the familiar metallic tang that he pulls away and pacifies the sting with his lips.

Seungmin releases his grip and you collapse on Minho’s chest. The men give shallow thrusts to further guarantee that you’re stuffed before you whine and twitch. Their hands soothe your body to coax you further into relaxation.

Minutes pass by before Minho thinks he’s ready to move. He tries to pull his cock out, but he’s met with resistance as if his dick and your pussy are actually molded together…with Seungmin’s, unfortunately.

You bark out a cry from pain - not the good kind - and Seungmin growls with annoyance.

“What the fuck?” Minho looks bewildered. His confused eyes find Seungmin’s. “Why can’t I move?” You’d laugh if you weren’t so fucked out, or if the throbbing between your legs was bearable. Seungmin clicks his tongue and laughs colorlessly. “Cuz we’re knotted, pretty boy. You’re gonna be stuck with me for a while. Literally.”

#smut #skz smut #stray kids smut #stray kids #skz #skz hard thoughts #skz hard hours #skz seungmin #skz minho #minho smut #seungmin x reader #seungmin smut #minho #lee know #seungmin #seungmin stray kids #stray kids minho

1K notes · View notes

suguwu · 2 months ago

Text

WOULD THAT I: PROLOGUE

The Gojo boy doesn't have a soulmate.

When you're both children, you overhear him being referred to as inhuman, between his power and his lack of a mark. The next time you see him, you use a marker to write your name on his skin, too young to understand what it means.

You forget, but Gojo—

Gojo never does.

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT.

masterlist

pairing: gn!reader x gojo

wc: 2.6k

notes: thank you to my beta, as always! especially for putting up with my bratty ass and reading this early so i could post it earlier. this has been a fun fic to get started and i hope you enjoy the prologue!

content warnings: none. see masterlist for series content warnings.

The Gojo boy doesn’t have a soulmate.

You don’t think you’re supposed to know; it’s only ever talked about in hushed voices. The clans all speak like that, sometimes, each word a butterfly’s wing as it flutters from their mouths.

The servants, however, are louder.

One of them has a voice like a lark, a sweet, trilling song. It carries. You learn to hear her coming, to recognize her shadow against the shoji. You know the edges of her by heart. Sometimes she spreads her arms out as she makes her way through the hallway; her kimono sleeves flare out behind her like wings.

“There’s something wrong with the Gojo heir,” she sings one afternoon, her fluting voice half-muffled by the shoji. “Those eyes of his—it’s like he can see right through you. And Fujioka says he doesn’t have a soulmark.”

Another servant hushes her. “Don’t gossip,” she chides.

“It’s true, though!”

“That doesn’t mean you should repeat it.”

She huffs, grumbling something too soft for you to hear anything aside from the melody of it. The other servant laughs quietly before chivvying her forward. You watch until their shadows disappear, leaving only the hallway light to filter golden through the shoji.

You return to your coloring book.

The Gojo boy doesn’t have a soulmate, but that doesn’t mean anything to you.

Not yet.

—

There’s a boy in the courtyard.

He’s hopping from stone to stone in the koi pond, his snow-white hair glittering under the morning sun. He moves like a dancer, each step sure and swift, never once slipping on the wet rock. When he gets to the biggest rock in the pond, he crouches down, his back to you, and drags his fingers over the surface of the water. The koi rise to meet him, firework scales flashing in the sun.

You watch him from the engawa, peeking out at him from behind one of the columns. You’ve never seen him before, and you’d remember him, with his starlight hair.

“Who’re you?” he asks, not turning around.

You stay quiet.

“I know you’re there,” he says. “You can’t hide from me.”

He glances over his shoulder and the world goes blue.

It’s the cold burn of a comet’s tail streaking through the velvet night. It’s oceantide, relentless and unyielding. It’s a slice of the sky brought down to earth, heaven devoured.

Then he blinks, and he’s just a boy again.

“Who’re you?” you ask, stepping to the edge of the engawa.

He lifts his chin. “I asked you first.”

You introduce yourself the way your mother taught you, bowing to him shallowly.

He scoffs. “You’re not even from the main clan.”

“Are you?”

“I’m not part of your stupid clan.”

“Oh.”

He stares at you, his crystalline eyes sharp-edged, all prismatic ice. “You don’t know who I am?”

“Nope.”

He rises to his full height, unfolding like an elegant crane. “I’m Gojo Satoru.”

You tilt your head. The servants’ humming gossip made the Gojo heir sound ethereal, a fallen star that had burned away into human form as it plummeted through the heavens. His eyes are otherworldly, and you can feel the power rippling out from his lean form, as unstoppable as the tides, but—

“You’re just a boy,” you say.

He scowls. “Am not.”

“Are too.”

“I’m Gojo Satoru,” he says again, deeper this time, an intonation, a promise, a curse. His eyes flash, St. Elmo’s fire, a lightning strike of blue. “I have the Limitless and the Six Eyes. I’m not just a boy.”

You would believe him, but the last bit sounded more sulky than anything else. You’re about to tell him so when someone calls your name. You glance over your shoulder, but there are no shadows against the shoji yet.

When you turn back around, there are wet patches shining on the stones in the koi pond, an imprint of the past, but nothing else.

The Gojo boy is gone.

—

Your mother is hovering.

She smooths down your yukata, chasing creases from the thin cotton with trembling hands. There hadn’t been time to change; she’d pulled you out of your lessons and hurried you down the hallways of the estate.

“Bow low when you meet him,” she tells you, though she hasn’t bothered to tell you who ‘he’ is. “Understand?”

You nod.

There’s a fine layer of sweat gleaming at your mother’s nape as she kneels before the shoji. She reaches out to open it; her kimono sleeve slips down, revealing the elegant curve of her wrist. You focus there instead of the opening shoji, the slow slide of it a hissing snake, coiled to bite.

The shoji clicks, a chime of teeth, its maw wide open. You take in a deep breath and step through, your gaze on the tatami mats. Someone shifts.

“Oh, it’s you.”

You glance up, directly into the gaze of Gojo Satoru. His eyes are as otherworldly as you remember, a crisp, clear blue framed in long lashes, like a snowy-edged mountain lake. He tilts his head as you gape, his hair gleaming bone-white in the sun streaming through the open shoji.

You blink. “What’re you doing here?” you ask, and next to you, your mother hisses in a low, sharp breath.

Gojo shrugs. “Dunno. The clan said I had to come and they caught me when I snuck out.”

The woman behind Gojo clears her throat. “Gojo-sama,” she says, her voice like the shivering leaves when the summer breeze stirs to life, “they’re a candidate for you to train with.”

He eyes you. “Why?” he asks. “They’re not very strong.”

“Hey!”

“You aren’t, though,” he says. “I can tell.”

You throw yourself at him.

His eyes widen, a devouring sea, and he grunts as you make impact. He’s sturdier than you thought; he’s slight, but it’s all lean muscle, even though he can’t be much older than you are. Your mother calls out your name, horrified, but Gojo is already recovering, grappling with you for control.

By the time the adults pull you apart, Gojo is nursing a rapidly-purpling mark high on his cheekbone. Your split lip aches; you tongue at it and wince. You can taste blood, sour and metallic. You glare at Gojo even as your mother bows deeply to the woman.

“My deepest apologies,” she says, tightening her grip on the sleeve of your yukata and forcing you to bow with her. “I don’t know what came over them.”

The woman clicks her tongue. “The child should be punished,” she says, and your mother stiffens. “I would suggest—”

“No.”

Everyone looks at Gojo. He thumbs at a rip in his kimono, grinning widely. It bares his teeth.

“I’ll train with them,” he says.

“Gojo-sama—”

“I said I’d train with them. Now can we go? I want a popsicle.”

The woman sighs. “Yes, Gojo-sama.”

Gojo sweeps by you and your mother. He pauses right next to you. “You’re weak,” he tells you, ignoring the way you bristle, “but at least you’re fun.”

He’s out the shoji before you can respond.

—

Summer settles over Kyoto, a wet lick of heat. Even the wind seems to feel it; it ripples honey-slow through the trees, barely strong enough to stir the air. Frogs move into the koi pond in the courtyard; they sing along with the cicadas’ sawing choir.

“Catch it!” Gojo shouts as your hands spear through the murky pond water. It gushes free from between your fingers as you come up empty-handed, the frog you were aiming for frantically disappearing further below the surface. “You’re so slow.”

“Am not!”

“Are too,” he counters, holding out his cupped hands. A plaintive ribbit sounds out from between them. “I already caught one. It was easy.”

“You’re annoying.”

He stares at you, his blue eyes icy. “You’re annoying.”

“You’re the one who came over.”

He rolls his eyes. “We train at your estate.”

“How come?”

“How come what?”

“How come we train here? Your estate is probably better.”

He shrugs, opening his hands enough to peer down at the frog. It glistens in the sunlight, the same deep green as the lush courtyard. It makes a break for freedom; he closes his hands again, his long fingers sewing the gap shut. “I like it better here.”

You wrinkle your nose. “Why?”

“I just do,” he says, voice flat.

You don’t ask again.

—

“Why are we here?”

Gojo blinks, his long white lashes sweeping over the sweet curve of his cheek. “Why are you whispering?”

Your cheeks heat. The Gojo estate is a sprawling, massive maw; you’ve felt devoured ever since you set foot in it. Even the golden light that slants through the shoji feels cold. There are ikebana arrangements lining the halls, the leggy, deep purple irises sculptural as they rise proudly from the vases, but it still feels like a mausoleum.

“We’ve just never trained here before,” you say, taking care to use your regular voice. “So why are we here now?”

He shrugs. “They insisted.”

“Who?”

He dismisses the question with a wave of his hand, his long pianist’s fingers cutting through the air. You roll your eyes, long used to his occasionally imperious ways. The two of you continue along the hallways, you trailing after him closely, as if caught in his gravity, an orbiting moon.

You almost run into him when he comes to a sudden halt. You peek around him—in the last few months, he’s gone through a growth spurt, one that your mother says will come when you’re his age, and he’s too tall to peer over his shoulder—and see a servant bowing low, her ebony hair glinting.

“Gojo-sama,” she says. “Please follow me. The elders are waiting.”

He sighs, a dramatic heave of his chest. “What do they want?”

“They didn’t specify.”

“Ugh.”

“Gojo-sama—”

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” he says. “Go tell those geezers I’ll be there soon.”

You wince right along with the servant. Gojo’s disdain for the elders is not new, but it still unnerves you every time, as if they will come along and smite you down.

“C’mon,” Gojo says to you. “Let’s get it over with.”

The servant clears her throat. “Only you, Gojo-sama.”

He glares, his blue eyes burning, a comet streaking through the sky. “No,” he says. “They’re coming.”

“They cannot.”

“I said they’re coming.”

“It’s okay,” you tell him, eyes wide. “Really.”

Gojo looks back at you. For a second, his mouth is a wound, tender and pink, but in the next breath, it’s gone, frozen under a layer of ice.

“Fine.”

You bite your lip, but he’s already walking away. You catch yourself before you reach for him. He disappears down the hallway, his hair glinting like exposed bone.

The servant turns to you. “This way,” she says, her voice perfectly neutral.

You follow her to an empty room; she slides the shoji shut behind herself as you settle onto the cushion at the chabudai. You gaze around the room. There’s not much to take in; it’s wealthy in a subdued way. You fidget with the hem of your sleeve and then get to your feet.

You slide open the shoji leading out to the engawa; it opens onto a huge, lush courtyard. The plush flowers are weighted down by their own blooms, their stems curving like a dancer’s back. A shishi-odoshi rings out with a hollow thud; a few songbirds scatter, their wings rustling like leaves as they soar towards the sky.

You step out onto the engawa. It’s still early enough that the sun slants onto the wood, warming it. You sit down and bask in it, tilting your face up for the sun’s sweet kiss. You lay back, your eyes fluttering shut.

A voice wakes you.

“He’s an insolent brat!” a man hisses. “He needs to be taken in hand!”

“He’s too powerful,” another man answers. His voice is calm, but you can sense the ripples in it, the thing lurking underneath. “We can only do what we’re already doing.”

You go still. They can only be talking about Gojo. Their footsteps echo; they’re drawing closer and closer.

“It’s not enough.”

“He’s still young. Maybe we can mold him.”

The first man snorts. “You don’t believe that.”

“No, I don’t.”

“There’s something wrong with that boy,” the first man says. “Those eyes—that power—and not even a hint of a mark. He’s barely human.”

Their footsteps are starting to fade; their voices become murmurs. But you still hear it when the second man says:

“I don’t think he’s human at all.”

Then they’re gone, fading from your world like malevolent spirits, dissipating on the wind. You unclench your fists and find that your nails have bitten into your skin, little half-moon curves cutting through the leylines of your palms.

Gojo shows up a mere minute later. He slides open the shoji with a bang; his eyes find you immediately.

“C’mon,” he says, stepping out into the courtyard. His eyes are shadowed; his lips are pulled tight, an unstitched wound. He’s heard them, you realize. You’ve never seen him bothered by other people’s opinions; your chest aches, a pressed bruise. You open your mouth to say something, but you can’t find the words.

He grabs your hand as he passes by you, tugging you along behind him, ignoring your surprised yelp. “Let’s go before those stupid geezers find me again.”

“Where are we going?”

“Away from here.”

“But my shoes—”

He glances back at you and you drown in blue.

“Okay,” you say quietly. “Let’s go.”

He doesn’t answer; he just tugs you along. You stare at the back of his head for a moment, trying to make sense of the expression you’d seen flash across his face before he’d turned around again. You can’t understand it, but you know one thing.

He’s never looked more human to you.

—

The next time you see him, you’re prepared.

You uncap the marker with your teeth. You reach out for Gojo’s arm; he pulls away before you can grab hold, as quick as a darting fish.

“What are you doing?” he asks.

“Give me your arm.”

“Why?”

“You’ll see.”

He eyes you for a moment, but gives you his arm.

You push up his yukata sleeve to expose the tender underbelly of his wrist. You start to write, laboring over each stroke of the marker, keeping it as neat as you can. The silver ink covers the rivers of his blue-green veins as it sinks into his skin, a childish tattoo.

“There,” you say, finishing with a somewhat-shaky flourish. “Now you have a mark.”

Gojo stares at you, his cerulean gaze lit from within, the sea beneath the sun. He covers the katakana of your name with his free hand, careful not to smudge the still-drying characters. Under the shadow, they fade to gray, but they still glint and glimmer the same way real soulmarks do.

You hum, pleased with yourself, cap the marker, and toss it to the side so you can start training.

You don’t know it yet, but it’s your last session with him. He disappears into the dawn like a fading star, spirited off to Tokyo to continue his training. You’ve only spent six months with him. Still, it aches, a pressed bruise, but you’ve always known he would outgrow you; his power is a black hole, always devouring.

Life, ever unmoved, continues on.

The boy you knew fades from your memories, though you never forget him. It’s impossible, with the stories that come out of Tokyo, how he completes missions that no one his age should be able to handle.

Still, you forget things. The tilt of his mouth; the cadence of his voice. He becomes a shadow of himself, a shade with burning blue eyes.

You forget that you once wrote your name on the delicate inside of his wrist.

Gojo, though—

Gojo never does.

#jjk x reader #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #bee writes jjk #fic: would that i

903 notes · View notes