#au: yandere
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star-my · 3 months ago
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OK i saw this series recc'd a lot but put off reading it because yandere stories aren't usually my cup of tea but I finally gave it a chance and I am so so so glad I did. This is amazing and deserves all the recs, and more. It's definitely going on my next rec list.
The writing is so smooth and easy to read and just sucks you into the world. The pacing is great and the worldbuilding is *chef's kiss*. The dynamics between the members and between OC and each other are spectacular. Ok I'll stop elaborating now and let y'all read!!!
Hotel California - Yandere!Demonic Entities!Ateez X Reader
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Yandere AU & Demon AU - Based off of This ask and Hotel California by Eagles
Genre: Mature, Horror, Angst, Slight Humor
Pairing: Ateez X Reader (Yes, all 8 of them)
Words: 13,318
Warnings: One stabbing mention. Seonghwa gets a little handsy at one point. The boys are very horny for the OC. I make too many direct references to the song and its lyrics, don’t at me please. This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.
A/n: You know, I never expect a simple Drabble to turn into this beast right here, but I’m happy with the way it turned out. Not gonna lie, this fic is a bit self-indulgent at certain parts, but what fic isn’t? Lmaoo anyways, I do not believe Ateez would ever act like this. This is just my interpretation of this particular Drabble request and the yandere archetype. I really hope you all like this one; feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy~ (Seriously though guys, please don’t let this flop haha)
Extra: The whole time I was writing this, I had a chubby!reader in mind, but I don’t explicitly describe anything that would indicate that so I don’t feel right tagging it as such. Just know it’s heavily implied, but anyone can read this!!
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yueebby · 9 months ago
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𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧 – 𝐠𝐨𝐣𝐨 𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮
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synopsis. period piece, forbidden love
contents. ooc, angst (eventual comfort), yandere emperor!gojo, lovesick!gojo, servant!reader, obsessive behavior (5k words of gojo pining), lowkey unreliable narrator, time skips
notes. inspired by the apothecary diaries and this post. loosely based off of ancient japan (this is basically its own world). this is the prologue to the series where everything can generally be read as a standalone ! (fic under the cut)
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emperor!gojo who broke a hundred year tradition to take you as his only lover. despite your role as a concubine, everyone in the imperial palace knew he was going to make you his empress.
emperor!gojo who had not meant to fall in love with you, but you have managed to somehow charm him. a man that single handedly brought his own clan to power– weak in your hands. hushed whispers around the imperial palace call you a witch, but they never reach your ears. not as long as he is alive.
emperor!gojo shamelessly showering you with love. he pays no mind that it is highly frowned upon, he will have his hands on you every time you are in the same room.
emperor!gojo who is livid when there is an attempt on your life. his usual ocean eyes turned to blue flames like a wild animal. servants and clan elders alike scurry under his gaze. the assailant is taken care of by his own hands. 
emperor!gojo who is forced to satiate the clan elders into submission by taking in another concubine from an influential clan. he insists to you that it is no more than a political formality. who are you to meddle into imperial affairs?
emperor!gojo who can’t help himself and ends up falling for another girl who his clan elders demand he must wed. she is much younger than you, beautiful and is well bred; a perfect match for the emperor. 
emperor!gojo whose frequent visits to you come to an end, forcing you to move from his chambers and back to the consorts’ pavilion.
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There was a time when you had everything. A place to call home in the Inner Court, a beautiful palace with anything you could have ever dreamed of. Servants, admirers, riches; you had it all. But what was most dear to you was your lover– a man so divine, many thought he was directly blessed by the hand of God. It was too good to be true. A woman of lowly birth like you, paid as homage for the sins of her clan against the new reigning family of Japan, becoming a concubine of the Heavenly Emperor. 
You remembered it all too well.
His brilliant mind that once strategized the downfall of the previous imperial family, calculating its next move in a game of Go against you. You can still remember the shock on his face upon his first defeat. The way he would keep you from leaving to fulfill your other duties until he was satisfied, eyebrows furrowing as he struggled to keep up with you. No matter how hard he tried, you remained victorious. It drove him mad.
You remembered the stolen kisses while you made your rounds in the Inner Palace with your ladies in waiting. It took you quite a while to learn to tune out their giggles every time the Emperor dips you down to taste your lips in broad daylight. The grin that he wore after was enough to leave your legs weak.
Above all, you'll always remember how safe you felt in his strong, reassuring embrace. You’ve seen him train, and it was no wonder the Gojo clan rose to power so quickly as a result of one man. The way he wields the katana is unlike any man on the face of the earth. Those arms were your sanctuary. You can still vividly recall the attempt on your life, orchestrated by a traditionalist incensed by the Gojo clan's swift ascent to power. The emperor, outraged by the assassination plot, personally saw to the man's execution. 
However, the damage was done and it caused great strain in the Imperial Palace.
To appease the old geezers that were forced out of power, Emperor Gojo had taken in another concubine from one of the Big Three families of Japan— a beautiful Zenin girl. Her flowing, silky hair and saccharine voice enchanted everyone in the Inner Palace, captivating the Emperor, most of all. She was younger than you, with perkier breasts and soft skin that was enough to capture the attention of any man. 
You don’t blame her for taking the Emperor’s attention away. Though you would be a liar if you said it did not hurt you. Deep down, you cannot deny the agony that sears your soul, realizing that the only semblance of love you've ever tasted remains unrequited. With a heavy heart, you resign yourself to the bitter truth of your existence, knowing all too well the cruel confines of your place in this world.
You were merely a pawn, and the Emperor did not want you anymore.
That was made clear months later when you received a scroll from the Emperor’s advisor, a man you were once well acquainted with, Geto Suguru. 
“What is this?” You asked him quietly, your heart silently begging the Heavens it was not what you had suspected it to be. The black haired man in front of you does not respond, and you feel something pierce into your heart. Despite being a part of the Emperor’s court, it was rare that you received letters directly.
Your suspicions were confirmed when your shaky hands finally opened the scroll to read the familiar kanji written by your beloved.
“The Emperor decrees the termination of your role as concubine." Geto spares you the trouble of deciphering the characters neatly written in ink. “In his mercy, you are to be moved as a servant in the Outer Court. You are to serve the Imperial Physician.”
What you remember most was the silence. The Emperor’s silence after the stressful months you had to endure alone. The silence shared between you and Geto when you were forced out of the Imperial Court. All that was left was the sound of your heart breaking and the wood creaking underneath Geto’s feet as he walked away. Satoru never bothered to see you off.
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Seasons change and by the next spring, you’re busying your hands with collecting herbs for the Imperial Physician, a man by the name of Yaga Masamichi. He is a kind man, pitying you enough to fill your days with laborious tasks to prevent your mind from wandering to thoughts of the unfortunate turn your life has taken. He is even generous enough to supply you with a new wardrobe of clothing full of light fabrics, a luxury you thought you would lose in the Outer Palace. Though the initial humiliation has worn off with the passing of time, you are still constantly reminded of your fall from grace.
Looks by the mix of condolences and disgust are shared when you roam the walls of the Outer Palace. You hear whispers of how the Emperor is infatuated with his newer, shinier toy. It is enough for you to swallow the bile that makes its way up your throat. 
“It is no wonder the Emperor tossed away a wildflower like her in exchange for a cherry blossom. He needed someone to rival his own greatness.” A particular comment stopped you in your tracks. Your grip tightens on the woven basket in your hand filled with medicinal herbs you had collected earlier that morning. 
“Have some pity on her.” Another eunuch whispers. Your breath falters, but you continue your walk with your head held up. You’ve heard the rumors. The beautiful Zenin Himiko has charmed the Emperor enough that there are rumors of a royal marriage to come. It doesn’t help that the Emperor has remained monogamous to her since he had banished you from his court.
A comforting hand links itself with your arm, “Ignore them. I saw Yaga shooing away a crowd of suitors that were lined up for your hand.” Ieiri Shoko scoffs, secretly sending you a wink. She has been studying medicine under Yaga for nearly a decade, eagerly accepting you as a companion upon your arrival. You feel your cheeks heat up at her flattery. You know she’s just trying to make you feel better.
Although your beauty never faded, it seems as though you are no longer sought after in the marriage market. Not that it matters, considering the new life that you’re living. You’re now a personal servant to the Imperial Physician, leaving no time to worry about suitors and such. Your days are filled with good work— tending to Yaga’s cherished garden that he has sowed for decades rather than frivolous games and attending the Emperor. It may not be glorious compared to your former life, but it was the best a woman of your status could receive. 
When you and Shoko return to Yaga’s estate, you’re surprised to see the somber look that has settled on his aging features. Shoko makes an offhand comment that he will age faster if he keeps scowling. She receives a scolding.
“Is something the matter?” You gently place down your basket full of herbs. 
Yaga sighs, calloused hands rolling up a scroll with the Imperial Seal. “It appears the Emperor’s consort has fallen ill and His Majesty commands my presence in the Imperial Palace.” 
The Royal Consort. The woman that dethroned you: Zenin Himiko.
“I understand.” You nod, maintaining your composure while two sets of eyes scrutinize you with keen observation. It was only natural the emperor wanted the best doctor in the country for his object of affection. “Shall I close up the shop while you journey into the Inner Palace?” 
Yaga shakes his head, “That won’t be necessary. I will have Shoko act as my stand-in.” He remarks with a quick glance in her direction “You, on the other hand, will accompany me.” 
Your eyes widen. 
“You cannot be serious.”
“Typically, one of my apprentices would accompany me on such journeys. However, now that I have acquired a personal attendant,” He gestures towards you with a flick of his hand, “It shall no longer be necessary.” As he speaks, he runs his hand absentmindedly through his well trimmed beard, gaging your reaction.
"I—" Your words falter and fade away. "Yes, sir," you respond, inclining your head in deference, a stark reminder of your place. While you may have concealed it, you were seething with humiliation. Returning to the Imperial Palace after a year of exile to serve the woman who took your spot was mortifying beyond measure.
“Very well. Pack enough for one week’s time. I doubt the Emperor would have called me if this was a light ailment.” He says gruffly. “We leave at dawn.” His gaze shifted to the horizon outside.
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1 YEAR AGO
“Your Grace,” You purr at the feeling of his large hands scratching your head. 
The smile that rests on his face is almost ravenous. “Yes, my love?”
“I think—“ A soft sigh escapes your lips when he presses on your weak points. “I should g-go.”
His ministrations stop almost immediately. 
“Go?” His eyes peer down at you in his lap. It is now that you realize the weight of his piercing gaze. “Have I commanded you to leave yet?”
“No, but—”
“Then you have nowhere else to be.” He huffs, unintentionally puffing his cheeks out. You stifle the giggle that nearly escapes from your lips. He vaguely resembles a pufferfish– or so you think. Though you’ve never seen the round creature with your very own eyes, you’ve heard that the delicacy was something only members of the aristocratic class would feast on. 
Your mouth waters at the thought.
“What are you thinking about that could possibly be so important? Keep your eyes on me,” A strong hand squishes your cheeks together and firmly guides your face back upon him. 
You should be embarrassed; ashamed at the intimate position His Majesty has trapped you in. The way your head is tucked away in his lap as he peers down at you, nothing to shield you away from him. It was incredibly scandalous, considering that you were an unmarried woman! But it seemed like the Emperor had taken no mind towards it. You would even dare to say that he was enjoying it, with the way his lips quirk upward at the sight of you squirming. 
“Your Grace,” You repeat, determined to free yourself from his hold. His eyebrows furrow.
“Satoru,” He reminds you. You purse your lips. The position you hold in his court is simply not high enough to grant you the privilege of calling him by his given name.
“Your Grace,” You try again, the title rolling off of your tongue naturally. A man like him did not deserve any title less than.
“You’re breaking my heart, sweetheart. Indulge a man, won’t you?” He pouts down at you. As stubborn as ever, you don’t relent.
“I would be overstepping my boundaries as your consort to call you as such. That privilege is reserved for your future bride.” You take advantage of his guard let down to sit up and escape his hold. If he could have caught you, he made no effort.
“I am a simple man.” He follows you to your vanity. A giggle escapes your mouth. He is anything but. “I want my love to call me by my name.” 
You turn around to cup his cheek. He eagerly leans into your touch, sighing happily at the contact.
“I wonder how Lord Kento and Geto would react to you like this.” You tease, a smile unknowingly painting itself on your lips. 
Satoru’s face falls, features morphing into an appalled expression. You watch him close the distance between you through the mirror.
“Kento?” His voice had a dangerous lilt in it. You blink, unsure what spurred on the sudden tension in the room. “Since when were you so comfortable around him? He cannot satisfy you like I can.” He reminds you of the man’s castrated state as an eunuch. You wince.
“I have not gotten comfortable,” You’re careful to pick your words. Gojo’s possessiveness was something that was not easily tamed. “He simply provides good conversation while you are away.The palace is far too big and lonely while you’re away dealing with clan matters.” 
The only response you get is a quiet grumble. “You’re lucky that you’re pretty.” His large hand creeps its way into your hair again, undoing the hairstyle your ladies in waiting had spent a copious amount of time on earlier that morning. Gojo carefully plucks the extravagant silver hairpin from your hair, the dangling pearls clicking softly at the sudden movement.  His hands slowly make their way down to the kimono that you are wearing, hands ready to undo the obi.
Your hands softly hover his, “I fear that our roles have been reversed. Should it not be me who gets you unready, Your Grace?”
He chuckles and through the mirror you can see a smirk make his way to his lips, “I’d let you undress me any day. Just say the word, beloved.” 
You roll your eyes, but allow him to continue. It was moments like these with the Emperor that led you on to believe that there was a semblance of love between the two of you. 
How wrong you were.
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PRESENT DAY
The sun has yet to meet the horizon when you arrive at the Inner Palace. The horse-drawn carriage that you and Yaga had taken is the only sound at the scene, clopping down the stone road and back to the Inner Court. You miss the serenity of the beautiful palace you once resided in, knowing that it will be bustling with life in just a few short hours.
In front of the large doors of the primary ceremonial hall where the Emperor spends most of his time, stands Lord Nanami, a counsellor to the Emperor himself. Time has only made his face sterner, but his neatly styled hair and blue and yellow dyed court attire remained the same. He waits patiently while you and Yaga make your way up the flight up stairs that lead up to the hall.
“I am glad to see you in good health, Yaga.” Nanami bows. 
The man next to you promptly waves his politeness off, thanking him for his hospitality. You stand silently while the two men engage in conversation regally.
Lord Nanami sighs, “His Majesty has been plagued by stress lately. To say I am relieved by your presence would be an understatement.” His statement is a subtle reminder that you must harden your heart upon entering the palace walls. The meticulously built walls were no longer a sanctuary for you, rather, a painful testament that you were no longer wanted. 
Yaga lets out a hearty laugh and it reveals a rare sight, Lord Nanami’s lips curving upwards by a slight. “I highly doubt the boy would be glad to see me. The appearance of the Imperial Physician is portentous.” He scratches his beard. You tilt your head in confusion at how he referred to the Emperor.
“I suppose, yet I am intrigued to find out how he will react upon seeing his object of affection flourishing anew despite the sting of frost.” Nanami audibly wonders. Even a fool could understand his eloquent comparison. The Emperor would be thrilled to see his consort in full bloom once again. You pray that the Heavens would grant you some mercy from witnessing such a scene.
“Youth,” Yaga shakes his head, chuckling to himself before regaining composure. “I mustn't keep the Emperor waiting. [Name], please gather the herbal ingredients to treat the young Consort as you seem fit. I shall confer with His Majesty and meet you in her chambers to declare a proper diagnosis.”
You bow, “Yes sir.”
While Yaga prepares to enter the doors where The Heavenly Emperor resides, your eyes couldn’t help but gaze longingly at the large bronze doors. 
“You seem well,” Nanami addresses you for the first time in over a year. Your eyes trail from the Emperor’s door to the blonde man in front of you. “Allow me to guide you to our herbal stock.” Nanami offers you his arm as you start to make your way down the stairs. 
You take it, lightly holding his arm.  “Thank you, Lord Nanami. Time away from the Inner Palace has been like a breath of fresh air,” You respond, ensuring your voice carries no malice. You hear the large palace doors from behind you open, the metal creaking loudly in the quiet dawn. 
“I must ask you to call me Kento,” He leads you down the stone steps. “We are old friends, it is strange to hear anything but.” 
You focus on your steps down the stairs, only responding once your feet meet the solid ground, “I fear that our social statuses have changed since then. It would be the cause of a scandal should anyone hear I am calling the Imperial Counselor by his given name. Your admirers would have my head on a stick.”
“Your imagination is amusing as always, [Name].” He gives you a closed eyes smile. You huff.
“I am only speaking the truth!” You insist. He chuckles.
“It is quite refreshing to see both you and Yaga again. I’m not sure how long it has been since I have been at the imperial physician.” 
You gape at his confession. “You mustn't skip your annual visits to the physician, Kento. It is in the best interest of your health!” You lightly scold him, lifting your hand to flick his forehead. It was a force of habit. “Perhaps if I have time after treating the Consort, I shall do a check up on you.”
Nanami clears his throat at your comment, the twinkle in his eyes dissipating as if your direct touch had burned him. 
“I would rather not lose my head.” He mumbles, eyes scanning the courtyard around the two of you. You knit your eyebrows, confused.
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Nanami leaves you to fulfill his duties once you arrive at the Royal Kitchens to retrieve all the necessary items to treat Consort Himiko. You are glad that he did not accompany you into the kitchens to prepare Consort Himiko’s herbal soup. 
The memory of it still irks you.
“You’re late,” One of Consort Himiko’s ladies in waiting snaps just as you enter the kitchen. You look up to see a young girl, dressed in a light purple kimono. It must be Himiko’s signature, you note. It was strange to see someone outside of the Imperial family donning the color, but you suppose it was only a grand display of Himiko’s influence.
“You’re a lot more plain than I anticipated,” The other lady in waiting quirks an eyebrow, eyeing your appearance. You furrow your eyebrows, shocked by their rudeness.Their undying loyalty to their Lady was enough to fuel an unspoken hatred for you. Though you’re not sure that the two coincide, you don’t blame them.
The two are mixing a concoction that you don’t recognize to be used to treat the sick. The taller one adds some aromatics and herbs in and you see the other one unwrap a cloth to reveal a rare delicacy from the West. Cocoa, you believed they called it. 
Then it hits you– the two are not making a medicinal soup for their Lady, rather they are making an aphrodisiac! The image that conjures in your head makes you blanch. Back in the Outer Palace, Shoko had shown you the effects of the stimulant (you shiver at the memory of her shoving a treat laced with it into your mouth). It was certainly a night to remember.
“How pathetic,” You mutter underneath your breath, quickly rushing to obtain the ingredients you needed without making conversation with the two girls.
Fortunately, they pay you no further attention for the time you’re in the kitchen.
“Please excuse me,” You bow upon entering the Emperor’s chambers. Despite the Consort’s Pavilion being similar in size to a small town, you remember spending most of your time in the Emperor’s chambers rather than your own. It was probably the same case with Consort Himiko. You slowly place the tray carrying broth and medicinal herbs to treat the Consort down on the circular wooden table in the middle of the room.
Out of curiosity, your eyes can’t help but soak in the Emperor’s room. Not much has changed since you’ve left. His Majesty’s preference for minimalist decorations have stayed the same, along with his natural musk that fills your nose. You feel your face heat up at your own thoughts. How could you think of such a thing when you are about to meet his new lover?
Your gaze moves to his bed, where Consort Himiko resides– only to find nothing.
“Huh?” 
You observe his bed, silk sheets neatly made, seemingly untouched. The sounds of your sock clad feet patter on the wooden floor as you make your way to feel the bedsheets for any signs of warmth, but you are met with nothing.
“Don’t you know that entering the Emperor’s chambers can be punishable by death?” A deep voice from behind you causes you to jump in your spot. 
Your guard is immediately raised, head whipping to the sound. In hindsight, you should have never agreed to accompany Yaga on his trip. It was a foolish idea all along, you think as all of the air in your lungs dissipates upon seeing your former lover. 
Standing at the entrance of his own sleeping quarters is Gojo Satoru, his frame big enough to tower over the doorway. His arms are crossed over each other, electric blue eyes focused on nothing else but you. You press your thighs together tightly to avoid squirming anymore than you are.  He has loosened his dark blue kimono to expose some of his hardened chest, a sight any woman in the nation would die to catch a glimpse.  Even underneath all of the fabric, anyone can see his divinely sculpted physique.
“Your Grace,” You waste no time to dip your body deeply, praying that he will allow you to keep your head by sunset. “I apologize for the intrusion, I was under the pretense that Consort Himiko resided in your quarters–” Your voice loses itself in your throat when you see his shadow quickly encroaching.
“Himiko stays in her Pavilion,” He towers over you, eyes gazing down on you. “But one might suspect that you already knew that.”
Your eyes frantically meet his feet, desperate to salvage what was left of your dignity, “I assure you that I speak of the truth, Your Majesty.”
When he doesn’t respond, you slowly lift your head.
The flustered look on your face must have been amusing to him, as he makes his way closer to you, bending down to interrogate you further.
“Is that so?” He hums, enjoying every second of cornering you into his chambers. The back of your legs have met his bed, trapping you. You inhale sharply, trying to keep your breaths even, refusing to give him the satisfaction of knowing the effect he had on you.
He continues, “You’re awfully skittish for someone who was happily skipping around my territory in the arms of another man just earlier.” His predatory gaze seems to darken. 
“Kento?” When his name leaves your lips, the man in front of you grits his teeth. You turn your head to the side, deliberately avoiding him. “With all due respect, Your Majesty, but I don’t see how Kento and I’s relationship is any of your concern,” He does not take your actions well, his gaze searing into you.
“It certainly is when the woman in question is you,” Gojo’s voice loses its feral lilt, distress flashing across his face. There’s a newfound desperation in it that chips away at your resolve. His hand raises to your face so slowly, as if he did not want to startle you.
“This is wrong. I– I saw a couple of servants earlier making aphrodisiacs, perhaps you could have unknowingly consumed them.” You tell him, frantic eyes meeting him. It is not unusual for couples to use aphrodisiacs, you know that after under Yaga. The Emperor must have mistaken the laced dessert for his usual. 
He shakes his head, running a hand through his white hair.
“You are mistaken. This is solely your effect on me.” He promises. You could barely believe his words, stuck between feeling offended or shocked.
“How could you stand to be so cruel?” Your voice is barely above a whisper. There are no tears in your eyes this time.  “I am not a courtesan you can buy for the night,” You snap, pointing a harsh finger to his chest. 
“What do you mean?” He sounds breathless.
“Whatever do I mean?” You scoff, a dry laugh escaping your mouth. “For a year, all I have gotten is pity from the world, because you decided I was no longer entertaining. You could have at least banished me away yourself. Instead, you sent Suguru who couldn’t even look me in the eye! Don’t you know how humiliating that is?” With every word that left your lips, more venom seemed to drip. Anger was prickling you all over, taking control of the rational part of you.
Gojo seemed to be taken aback by your outburst. It was far too late to take anything back now. If you lose your head by nightfall, so be it.
You dig a deeper grave for yourself when you take advantage of his moment of weakness to flee. He’s quick to react, attempting to grip your wrist.
“Wait, [Name], beloved–” He uses that all too familiar term of endearment, but it doesn't deter you.
You accidentally bump into the circular wooden table placed in the middle of the room. What an awful place to keep it, watching in horror as the Consort’s medicine shatters on the floor. To add salt to the wound, a vase you recognize to be specially gifted to the Emperor from a foreign nation tips off too before you can catch it. The sound of porcelain shattering fills the room.
“[Name]! Are you alright?” You hear Gojo ask from behind you, but you run over the broken shards before he can catch you.
Had you bothered to pay closer attention, you would have noticed articles of your clothing and a couple of your missing belongings littered all over the room– creating a faux impression that you never really left the palace.
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Days passed by after the incident, and luckily, your head was still attached to your body despite offending and nearly endangering the Emperor. Yaga’s disappointment when you had told him what happened was made evident when he sent you home early after hearing the events that transpired, insisting that he can handle the Consort on his own. Normally you would have argued, but you knew better than to inflict Yaga’s wrath.
“Now you’ve really done it,” Shoko whistles lowly, walking in from the front of Yaga’s shop. 
You hide your face in your hands, “I made an absolute fool of myself, didn’t I?”
“A fool? No. A conspirator against the Emperor? Perhaps.” She dangles a scroll with a familiar seal on it. The Gojo Clan’s familiar emblem reflects off of the sunlight spilling into the room. Your heart drops.
“Oh, they’ll have my head.” You moan, hands instinctively lifting to shield your neck.
“Though I’m quite impressed that Yaga only sent you back here. He used to have worse punishments.” She shudders before impatiently unraveling the scroll. You watch her eyes gradually widen as they read the contents of the letter. The scroll falls from her hand.
You rush to it, desperate to read your fate.
To [Last Name] [First Name],
Greetings and prosperity unto you.
By the mandate of the heavens and the authority vested in Us, We hereby extend Our solemn words to you, [Last Name] [First Name], servant of the realm, in acknowledgement of your debt to the Empire.
In response to your unmeritorious deeds, The Emperor bestows upon you His imperial pardon from capital punishment. In consideration of your obligations and the harmony of the realm, it is hereby decreed that you shall serve as an indentured servant to the Imperial Household for a period commensurate with your debt. During this time, you shall labor faithfully and diligently under the supervision of Our Heavenly Emperor, performing duties essential to the welfare of the Empire.
By fulfilling your obligations with diligence and humility, you may yet earn favor and esteem in Our sight.
The Imperial Court
A loud gasp escapes your mouth.
You feel your legs weaken, your emotions running wild. Shoko’s eyes meet yours, mirroring your frantic gaze. In that moment, you are met with the same suffocating sense of hopelessness.
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extra!
gojo was kicking his feet happily as he watched suguru draft out his letter to you. suguru thought it rather cruel, while the white haired male was too busy purring happily as he fantasized about having you back into his grasp.
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yandere-writer-momo · 27 days ago
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My take on the neglected spouse trope, but with a little spice. Short and to the point
Yandere Batman Shorts: Adorned In Pearls
Yandere Bruce Wayne x Neglected Wife Fem Reader x Yandere Batboys (platonic)
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Tw: obsession, unhealthy relationship dynamic, power imbalance, time rewind, imprisonment (implied), death (beginning), and themes that should not be romanticized
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“Put the jewels in the bag!” (Your name) didn’t even flinch when the intruder crudely held up his gun to her while she was in the kitchen. It seems her end was finally near at last. “Did you hear me?! Put your jewels in the bag!”
(Your name) calmly turned off the stove top while the intruder kept his voice raised. She had been working on breakfast for her ungrateful husband and her adopted children since they’d be back from patrol in a few hours. Alfred was in the Batcave which left her up here and vulnerable… not that they’d care.
“Let me turn off the stove so you don’t blow the place up if you shoot.” (Your name) calmly told him. She knew this would be a tragic end… and she looked forward to her suffering to end at last.
(Your name) unclasped the pearls from her neck and placed them in the burlap sack the burglar thrusted toward her with one hand. She then made her way to take off each piece of jewelry that was an empty gift from her husband. Even his mother’s ring he gave her for their opulent wedding.
“Code. Safe. Now.” The burglar demanded as he thrusted the gun in her chest.
“0219.” (Your name) calmly stated despite how terrifying the situation was. “It’s in the third room to the right.”
She could not get another word in before a searing pain filled her chest as a loud gunshot rung throughout the house. She glanced down at her chest or a bullet hole was now through her chest cavity.
The burglar walked off while she sank to the floor in a heap. Her hands went to her phone to make a final call but… she knew no one from this house would answer. (Your name) was always an afterthought, and she believed she would be even in death.
So she dialed 911 and waited for the operator to answer. Her right hand was stained crimson as the viscous blood pooled around her like a grotesque blanket.
Once she heard the operated answer, (your name) cut them off, “There’s been a robber and murder at the Wayne manor.”
(Your name) then hung up and turned her gaze to the ceiling. If there was another life, she would be selfish and live for herself. She wouldn’t rot away like lettuce in the back of a fridge in this manor. No… she would have more respect for herself.
Breathe in… breathe out. She smiled in peace for the first time in years. She was finally free from this lonely nightmare she had been trapped in for nearly two decades. Maybe, she would finally deserve her chance to be loved as much as she loved back.
How was she to know the nightmare only just began?
.
.
.
(Your name) jolted awake, her wine glass nearly slipped from her hand from the sudden movement. A myriad of voices chattered in the opulent restaurant has her eyes glanced around the almost surreal scene.
This was the restaurant she had begged Bruce and the boys to come to for her birthday with her six years ago…
“ Mrs. Wayne, would you like another glass of water?” The familiar waiter came over with a pitiful expression that she had seared into her memory from those years ago. The look almost every waiter gave her at any venue she went to.
“Actually, I’d like to order.” (Your name) smiled. “It’s my birthday… and I want to celebrate it for once.”
The waiter seemed surprised but happily took her order. This was the first time she had ordered rather than wait for hours for a family that wouldn’t come.
(Your name) smiled to herself, her gaze focused on the complementary wine glass that was brought to her by the wait staff. How sad was it that the stranger showed her more love than her own family?
She had a second chance… and she’d be damned if she wasted it.
.
.
.
After she had long left and enjoyed her meal, a dashing family of five hurriedly arrived to the restaurant.
Bruce Wayne looked slightly disheveled, but that didn’t take away from his charming good looks. The billionaire and his adopted sons hurriedly glanced around the restaurant for any sign of his wife and their mother. He knew she would be here… just like she always was that she waited for them.
They had all been given a second chance when they came home and found her small, lifeless body on the kitchen floor after patrol.
Never had they all cried so much as they cradled her cold, bloody form as they desperately tried to revive her. Each of them begged for another chance to love her properly.
Each of them had spent so much time finding the perfect gift to make all the lost time up to her and to finally celebrate her birthday like a family like she always dreamed.
They had always kept their distance to keep her safe from their enemies. Yet they had instead created a giant misunderstanding. One that they all desperately needed to make up for.
“Do you think mother is still here? I hope she didn’t wait too long…” Damian muttered, his green eyes nervously searched for (your name)’s delicate form.
“She always waits for us. She loves us.” Dick reassured the others, yet they all knew it was more of a self reassurance. “She will be so happy…”
The wait staff seemed surprised but they did give the boys some glares.
“Jeez, what’s their problem?” Jason huffed as he put his hands in his pockets. He didn’t see her anywhere… he had gotten her a wonderful gift for once.
“I can look up her location.” Tim chimed in as he pulled out his phone. “She’s around, I’m sure.
It was Bruce who seemed to search the hardest for her. A bouquet of roses were clenched so hard in his fists that his knuckles turned white. He would make this all right again.
(Your name) was alive once more… and he would make sure she never die or be hurt by them again. She’d be protected and cherished like she deserved.
“I’m sorry, but Mrs. Wayne left hours ago.”
The men all instantly deflated. She left? But she would always be here for hours for them… was there a possibility she returned in time too?
They all went back to the manor in haste. They wanted to celebrate her birthday with her… they wanted to celebrate so much with her. They wouldn’t let her be alone ever again.
.
.
.
(Your name) dipped her feet in the hot tub at the manor with a content sigh. Her lungs deeply inhaled the crisp night air with a dreamy sigh. This felt so peaceful. Why had she never celebrated her birthday like this before?
(Your name) didn’t even flinch when she heard the boys come home. Perhaps patrol ended early? It’s been so many years of being ignored that she hardly knew what went on in their lives.
She slipped the robe off and slid her swimsuit clad body into the comfortably hot water. Another sigh spilled through her lips, her muscles relaxed. This felt like heaven.
(Your name) jumped when Bruce suddenly slid the sliding door open with a loud whack. She was quick to cover her cleavage with her hands despite this man being her legal husband.
“ Mr. Wayne? What are you doing here-“ Bruce was quick to close the distance and pull her into a hug. Muscular man shook like a leaf as he held her to him. His heart beats so fast, she swore it was about to burst.
“You’re alive… you’re okay…” (Your name) did a double take at his words. When did he ever care about her well-being?
“Yes? Why wouldn’t I be?” There was no way he came back to the past too, right? Her neglectful husband would never hold her and bury his nose in her hair like this.
Yet here Bruce Wayne, her infamous billionaire Playboy husband , was with his face borrowed into her skin. His nose deeply inhaled her scent like she was his favorite flower. He held her as if she was something precious, something he has never done in their two decades of marriage.
“What are you doing?” She asked, but he only held her tighter.
Bruce pulled back to study her face, is blue eyes were dark like a sea storm. His brows were furrowed in worry.
“Hugging my wife.”
A humorless chuckle bubbled from her chest. So now she was his wife? Since when has he treated her as such.
“Is this a joke?” She asked him despite how serious he looked. “I’m just a decorated house pet-“
Her eyes almost popped out of her head when he planted a searing kiss on her lips. A gasp escaped her as his tongue thrust its way into the cavern of her mouth and tasted every inch of it. His hands greedily grasped at her body.
“Wife… my wife.” Bruce whispered against her lips. “My beautiful wife.”
“Mister Wayne-“
“It’s Bruce.” His voice was authoritative as he cut her formalities off.
“…Bruce.” She sighed. “I’m not sure what you want from me.”
“I want you. I want my wife.” (Your name) squealed when h got into the hot tub with her to hair with her. “It’s your birthday today…”
He… he knew her birthday?
“I didn’t think you ever noticed.” She muttered, but he pressed his forehead to hers.
“All these years, we thought we were keeping you safe by keeping a distance. How foolish I was.” Bruce sighed. “You’re safer in our arms, in my arms.”
(Your name) was speechless when he pulled a gift box from his breast pocket and opened it to reveal an exquisite pearl necklace.
“You deserve to be adorned in pearls and jewels. To be pampered by me.” Bruce didn’t give her the chance to move away as he clasped the necklace around her.
Despite its elegance, (your name) couldn’t help the dread that pulled in her stomach. She could not stop the feeling that this pearl necklace was nothing more than a magnificent collar.
“You look so beautiful in those pearls… they were my mother’s, you know.” Bruce hummed as he picked her up and placed her on the edge of the hot tub.
Bruce stripped her robe back over her form.
“Let’s get changed and go celebrate your birthday properly with the boys. They really want to see their mother.” He pressed a chaste kiss to her cheek. “and after that, I think you and I can finally make up for all the lost time.”
(Your name) felt a tear roll down her face that Bruce took as a tear of joy. Yet only she knew the truth.
She had believed she would escape and find her own happiness, now she realize she would never escape this gilded cage.
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yanderestarangel · 5 months ago
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⊹₊⟡⋆ 𝓯𝓾𝓬𝓴𝓮𝓭 𝓽𝓸 𝓪 𝓶𝓸𝓷𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻... 𝓯𝓾𝓬𝓴𝓮𝓭 𝓫𝔂 𝓪 𝓶𝓸𝓷𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻
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♡⁠┊TW — dp, anal sex, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, monster fuck, praise, breeedkink, afab reader, dark smut, dead dove, Ghost has two dicks here (because I chose to write it like that)
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"Don't look anywhere else, look at me... I'm still your husband." The words were followed by the wet sound of the two cocks of your now radioactively-rayed husband, who looked like a monstrous anomaly — with two extra heads, two extra arms, and... two extra cocks.
You hadn't expected that in thousands of years, but when Simon came out the door completely safe and sound, looking like that was shocking and at least scary to your eyes.
Even so, you were on your hands and knees, feeling one of his cocks enter your ass while the other filled your wet pussy, making you whimper loudly as you felt his very hot and heavy balls hit your clit with the slow thrusts that the military man was giving you.
You could feel every pulsing vein of his shafts in your wet holes, the slickness between your thighs and his groin increasing. His now gray eyes were locked completely on your figure, two of his four arms gripping your waist while the other two held your wrists behind your back, ready to dominate and maneuver you as he pleased.
Hearing your moans of acceptance, his two cocks throbbed like never before, impaling you to the point where you even forgot that your partner was now a shadow of what he once was.
All that mattered in that moment was that you could take every inch of what he was giving you, as if your life depended on it—as if every fluid that came out of his cocks was a poison that made you crave more and more of him.
The slow, flesh-to-flesh pounding that had once been tender was now replaced by Simon's almost animalistic movements above you. A little drool dripped from your mouth as you could only wriggle your toes every time one of his cocks reached the tip of your womb while the other kissed limits you didn’t even know existed.
Grunts escaped his lips, muffled by the mask that was now completely part of his skin, fused to his flesh like a second garment. His fingers dug into your flesh hard enough to leave marks as a hoarse growl came from his throat, echoing like a triad through his three heads.
"Come on, sweetheart... I know you want to cum, don't deny it... cum for me." His words were tinged with the same honey that once soothed your soul. It was still him, even with that new body—and you felt yourself becoming addicted to it, like a drug, leaving you with pleasure so intense it made your system shut down.
You felt him give one final thrust, and at the same time, your pussy was filled with the warm, viscous liquid of his semen. Your other hole was filled as well, causing tears to spill from your eyes as you whimpered from how full you were. But your partner didn’t stop—Simon continued with small thrusts until he felt your inner walls drain him. One of his many hands moved to your pussy lips, slowly opening them to expose your tight slit as it swallowed his cock.
"I won’t let you leave here until I see you beautiful, full, and carrying my children in your belly... Do you understand, my angel?" His words left no room for argument, and no matter how tired you were, saying "no" wasn't an option. After all, you wanted him too, regardless of his appearance. He was still yours.
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potaetopic · 1 year ago
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wow, that was so good! the plot hooks me even tho i have 8am class tmrw, but lets👏 give👏 a👏 round👏 of👏 applause👏 to👏 this👏 art👏
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You owe me ☆
Mafia!Jungkook x psychologist!reader
Warnings: yandere!Jungkook, dub con, guilt tripping, description of murder and crime, mention of stalking, cursing, weapons (one singular gun), mention of male masturbation, descriptive smut, probably wrong use of psychological terms (oopsie)
Wc: 6.9k
Disclaimer: This is 100% fiction. I am in no way saying that this is how any member of bts would act. Nor do I condone the actions detailed in the story. This is purely for entertainment purposes only. If any of the warnings trigger you, or you’re under 18 ¡do not read! I’m not your mother, and I don’t take any accountability for what you decide to read online!
Another disclaimer: I am not a licensed psychologist! Everything related to psychology in this fic is off Google, do not use this to diagnose yourself or anyone else!
A/n: This is my first post on my bts fic blog! If you like it please show your support! Don’t be a silent reader! My requests are open, share your ideas!
He clutched the gun close to his chest. Hiding it under his pyjamas. His fathers words ringing in the back of his mind. “Your brother is too soft for this industry, but you son, you’re my perfect descendant.”
He walked into his family’s suite. It was dark, except for one light in the living room. His mother sat there head propped up on her hand reading a book.
“What are you doing up so late, baby?”
She asked, putting the book down in her lap and taking off her reading glasses. He looked over at the white sofa placed next to the large windows. His brother was sleeping there peacefully. Not aware of his presence.
“I let your brother sleep in the living room tonight. His nightmares have returned.”
She continued when he didn’t answer her. He slowly turned his eyes towards his mother again.
“Weak.”
He answered lowly. Her look turned concerned.
“Is something wrong, baby?
His eyes continued to stare at her. He didn’t move a muscle, not yet.
“You know I don’t like it when you look at me like that.”
She continued when he yet again didn’t answer. There was a sturdiness to her voice now. The kind of sturdiness mothers have before scolding you. He started smiling. Not in a sweet innocent way. Not in the way 11 year olds should. But in a sinister and dark way. His hand moved out of his pyjamas top. She looked at the object in his hand.
“Drop that gun right now, Jungkook!”
A scream. Three shots. And silence.
15 years later
“Your patient is here.”
Your assistant, Erin, said through the slightly ajar door to your office. You looked up from your lunch. Quickly glancing over at the stationary computer to check the time.
“I don’t have an appointment. Not in another thirty minutes.”
Erin looked back to the waiting room before slowly stepping inside the office. Closing the door quietly behind her. She walked closer to you.
“He’s been sitting here for an hour already. I told him his appointment wasn’t until 1 pm. He just said ‘I know’ and sat down.”
She hurriedly whispered afraid of whoever was sitting out there.
“Please, Erin. Don’t act like he’s crazy. Send him in, I’ll eat later.”
She gave you a look before holding up two fingers. The signal that the two of you created. Working as a psychologist you meet with all sorts of people. Even criminals. The signal signalised that she would call the police if you hit the button that called directly to the front desk.
“Stop it, there will be no need to call the police. He’s harmless.”
“If you say so.”
She shrugged and walked out the door. The next time it opened a familiar figure entered.
“Good afternoon, Doctor.”
“You’re early Mr. Jeon.”
You had been treating Jungkook Jeon for a little over a month now. And you had come to the conclusion that he had PTSD, post-traumatic stress disorder. After he had witnessed a series of murders and crimes during his childhood. He was vague about the past, but a few things came out here and there. You only knew about his absent father and that his brother and mother had both been killed. No description of how or when. Which is common at first. It’s hard to re-live your trauma.
“I’m sorry I disturbed your lunch. Just eat, I don’t mind.”
He said as he sat down in the white sofa across your desk. You gave him a small smile as you reached into your drawer.
“Don’t worry about me, I’ll eat after our session.”
You said as you fished his file up and opened it on you desk. You quickly read your notes from the last session as you continued talking.
“How are you doing? Still having nightmares?”
You looked up from the file maintaining eye contact as he answered your question.
“Sometimes, but not as often as before. I dream of you instead now.”
His eyes never left yours as he bit his lip, playing with his piercing he had there. You nodded.
“How often do you dream about me? And what are the dreams about?”
You asked as you scribbled it down in your notes.
“Every now and then they occur. Especially after our sessions. Or after I read your books. You’re a good writer Dr. y/l/n.”
He started smiling. His smile wasn’t sweet, it was different from how he had smiled at you before.
“As for what they’re about, I don’t think you’d want to know, Doctor.”
You tried concealing your confusion at his last statement. Curiosity taking over you.
“Dreaming about people you frequently surround yourself with is not uncommon. If you don’t like to talk about it we don’t have to. I would just like to know if they’re good or bad dreams.”
He nodded, still not breaking his smile nor the eye contact.
“Oh they’re good, Doctor. Don’t worry.”
You smiled back at him.
“That’s good to know. I’m glad to hear your nightmares are slowly being changed with good dreams.”
It went silent for a moment as you wrote down the good news. When you looked up again he wasn’t looking at you anymore, and for some reason you felt relived. His eyes were big and doe like, and when they focused on you for too long you would sometimes feel uneasy. You wondered so what those eyes had experiences in the past.
“What about your sudden outbreaks, are you able to control your anger better?”
He focused on you again the second he heard your voice. His smile returned.
“Sort of, I’ve been letting out the aggression in the gym, after you adviced me to try to stay active. I’ve started boxing.”
You smiled and nodded, writing down boxing in your notes.
“That’s good to hear. It seems that you’re getting better Mr. Jeon, much b-“
“Jungkook, call me Jungkook.”
He interrupted. You stopped and looked at him for a second.
“And no, I’m not cured. I still need you.”
You slowly nodded.
“Well there is no cure for your diagnosis, it’s a matter of being at peace with living with it. But I can understand that you still have things you would want to talk about. Maybe you would like to open up to me about your past?”
The room grew quiet. His eyes now focused on his hands in his lap. His demeanour changed completely.
“I have told you about my past. If I didn’t you wouldn’t have been able to diagnose me in the first place.”
He answered with a bit of underlaying annoyance. You sighed. Something felt off, but you couldn’t figure out what.
“You have told me some parts yes. If you want to go more in detail you can, I’m not forcing you. As your psychologist I would advise talking about it with me. It could be nice to have an outsiders perspective.”
You said in a soft tone. Trying to get your point across at the same time as being gentle. You didn’t want him to feel pressured or as if he had to say anything. When he didn’t open his mouth you understood you crossed his personal line of what he feels fit for you to know. You spoke after almost a minute with silence.
“It’s fine. You don’t have to. You can think about-“
“You’re a smart one.”
He interrupted you again. His eyes raised to meet yours.
“That’s why I like you. You know to some extent what is going on inside my head. I could never do that. I never know what is going on inside your head. If you think I’m weak or even crazy.”
“I don’t think you’re crazy nor weak. It’s not your job to know what is going on inside my head. But it is my job to know what’s going on inside yours.”
He nodded before patting the sofa seat beside him.
“Come here.”
He simply said. You don’t know why, but you had a bad feeling in your stomach. He was acting differently today, compared to other sessions. Either way you got up from your chair, knowing that doing what he said would get you an insight of what you wanted to know. You slowly walked around your desk and sat down in the small sofa next to him. You crossed your legs trying your best not to get too close to him, but he seemed to man spread even more. Making your thighs touch. You placed your notebook in your lap, ready to write down exactly what he told you. He took a hold of your wrist.
“You’re not writing this down, Doctor. I need your full attention.”
It was the first time he had touched you, beside the first time you met when you shook hands. It made you think that you usually never have any sort of physical contact with your patients. Maybe that’s exactly what they need. What he needs to open up to you. You put your notebook down, and continued holding his hand. He looked down at your hands intertwining. Your smooth small hand was a sharp contrast to his bigger tattooed one.
“Tell me whatever you feel comfortable with telling me.”
You said to get his attention back to reality. He went quiet for a few seconds.
“I grew up in a hotel. It was a nice hotel, four stars, good breakfast. My father was almost never home, I didn’t mind though. I had my mother and my brother there. It was perfect in the beginning.”
He stopped. You looked down at his hand, it was shaking. You started drawing small circles at the back of his hand. Trying to calm him down. He looked down at your hands again.
“One night when I was sleeping I was woken up by a loud bang. The door to our home was broken down. A man entered and started shooting. My brother was still sleeping on the sofa and died instantly. My mother reached her gun and shot the man in the shoulder.”
He looked into your eyes.
“But he shot her in the head.”
You nodded, looking down at the floor. You knew he was looking at you, but you couldn’t meet his eyes in that moment.
“Did you find out who that man was? Why he would do such a thing.”
He went quiet again at your question. His grip on your hand tightened, as if what he was going to say would make you pull away.
“He was a mobster. Like my father. After the incident he trained me as the next leader of his group. I was 11.”
You looked at him. His childhood was worse than you thought, but he wasn’t saying all this as if it was a traumatic experience. It seemed like he was bragging about it. You would have to go through your notes and his file after work to see if there was something you were missing about him. You couldn’t jump to conclusions just yet.
“Thank you for telling me.”
You smiled at him. He looked back at you with those big eyes. You looked at the watch on your wrist. The session was over.
“Look at the time.”
You were about to let go of his hand to get up from the sofa. But he grabbed you harder. Forcing you to sit still.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Jeon. But our session is over-“
“I’ve told you to call me Jungkook.”
“Jungkook, I have other patients today as well. We can continue this next week.”
You tried to assure him. He still didn’t let go.
“I’ve never told anyone about this, and you decide to end the session this quickly?”
You grabbed his hand with your other hand as well.
“You know I usually don’t end sessions like this. But I can’t let my other patients wait. You’re free to sit in the waiting room for as long as you want to.”
He frowned at your comment, but relaxed his hand nonetheless. You got off the sofa and walked to your desk again. Before you could say anything else he got up from the sofa and hastily walked out the door. Slamming it shut behind him.
You had two more patients that day. You waved goodbye to your last patient of the day, a young girl named Olive Thomson who was suffering from severe anxiety, as she walked through the door. You got up from your chair and collected your things. You turned off the computer and the light. You made sure to lock the door as you always do. The only thing you had to do now was say goodbye to Erin by the front desk, and you could go home. You walked into the waiting room.
“Finally.”
You turned to find the owner of the voice, as it was clearly not Erin’s.
“Mr. Jeon what are you doing here?”
You asked as you looked at the man seated in one of the waiting chairs.
“I told him he had to leave, I promise.”
You heard Erin whisper behind you.
“You said I could sit here for as long as I wanted to, Doctor. And please, just call me Jungkook.”
He was clearly upset. You remembered your words from earlier, but you didn’t think he would spend almost four hours just sitting there.
“I did, you’re right. I’m leaving now, Erin will be here for another two hours. But after that we’re closed.”
He got up from the chair.
“I was waiting for you.”
He simply said.
“I’m sorry our session ended so brutally, but I promise we’ll talk about it next week.”
You said and patted his shoulder as you walked past him towards the exit.
“Goodbye, Erin!”
You said as you made your way outside. The wind was cold and you clutched your coat closer to you as you walked towards your car.
“The least you can do is eat with me.”
He had followed you outside. You turned to look at him.
“I’m not that hungry, I just want to go home.”
You was going to open your car door, but his hand suddenly blocked the door. You were about to cuss him out. Tired of his antics.
“You haven’t eaten all day, I hardly doubt that one bite you had for lunch filled you up.”
He sounded threatening, something he had started to do recently.
“I just want to hear your thoughts on what I said. Don’t you think you owe me that? Or do I have to wait a week and dread finding out your opinion of me?”
He was desperate, you could see it. What he was saying was true. He would walk around overthinking for the next week and his health could worsen. You had to take action according to your diagnosis.
“Ok, I’ll eat with you.”
The two of you were sitting at some restaurant. The lights were low and to everyone around you, the two of you looked like a couple on a date. This was obviously not something you would do with your patients, you like to keep things professional. Something about this whole situation felt anything but professional.
“Get whatever you want, my treat.”
He said deeply focused on the menu. You shook your head.
“No thank you, I can pay for my own food.”
You answered.
“I’m the one responsible for you not being able to eat your lunch right? You owe me this meeting and I owe you food. Two birds with one stone.”
You sighed when you didn’t have a rebuttal. The two of you ordered, and the silence grew more and more awkward.
“I’m sorry again, Mr. Jeon I’m-“
“Jungkook. Please y/n! Just call me Jungkook!”
He was clearly upset now. You were a bit taken aback from the sudden use of your first name. He had never called you by your first name before. And the feeling of the professionalism fading away became more apparent.
“I’m sorry. I’ll try to remember your request.”
“Say it. Say my name.”
For some reason you didn’t feel like you had it in you. It felt so strange to call a patient by their name, the same way it felt weird to be called your name by a patient.
“Jungkook.”
You managed to get it out, but you couldn’t look him in the eye saying it. The food luckily came quickly, you were starving. Plus it saved you from whatever he was going to answer. You decided to take the lead. Wanting to stay on track for the actual reason you said yes to join him.
“You said your father was a mobster. Do you know if he’s still living that lifestyle? Do you have any contact with him?”
You asked after taking a big bite of your pasta. Jungkook swallowed before answering your question.
“My father is dead. He’s been dead for 7 years now.”
A question came to mind, but you didn’t know if you dared ask him. You remember he said his father trained him to the life of crime at a young age. For him to take over his fathers legacy. With his father gone he would be next in line to whatever group his father had built. He got the image. Tattoos, piercings, the black clothes. But you couldn’t imagine him being a mafia boss. Maybe it was some sort of stereotype that strong, tough men don’t go to the psychologist. But you were starting to rethink his intentions.
“You’re thinking about something.”
You looked up from your food. He was staring at you.
“Look at you, you do have the ability to understand my mind.”
You said lightheartedly. He chuckled.
“I think you’re brave. Not many people survive the kind of neglect and trauma you’ve experienced in your childhood.”
You said, trying to give him an answer for his entire life story. He nodded and suddenly reached for your hand across the table. You jumped, but didn’t remove your hand. You didn’t want to make a scene with this many people around.
“I’m fine, y/n. I think the only cure I need is you.”
His statement combined with his eyes staring into your soul, gave you chills down your back. Something was off about him. You had to ask. You just had to.
“When your father died, did you…?”
He smiled. The same sinister smile he smiled at you earlier that day.
“I did. I took over his legacy. Me and my father were actually great friends the years before he died. Not that I cared for him. I don’t think I’ve ever cared for anyone in my entire life.”
Another shot of chills froze your body at his statement. You had overlooked it this entire time. His calm demeanour, his tendency to physically violence, his intelligence and charisma and now his lack of empathy. He didn’t suffer from PTSD, he had been lying this entire time.
“At least not until I met you.”
He interrupted your thoughts. You pulled your hand out of his quickly. You took a deep breath trying to compose yourself.
“That’s nonsense. You must’ve cared for your mother.”
He shrugged.
“Not really, she wasn’t exactly the best mother.”
“You don’t really have those nightmares do you?”
You asked, looking at him. It took him a few seconds to answer. Probably contemplating if he should continue his lies or tell the truth.
“I don’t.”
“You didn’t really have a problem with your mother or brother dying either right?”
He let out a small laugh.
“I just told you.”
“Just answer me.”
He poked his tongue into his cheek and leaned forward onto the table.
“What is this? Are you trying to diagnose me, Doctor?”
He said mockingly.
“Answer me.”
You commanded. He sighed and started smiling at you again.
“Everyone has to die at some point. Doesn’t matter when or how.”
You nodded. Your instinct was true.
“You don’t have PTSD, you have ASPD.”
He licked his lips and cocked his head.
“And what does that mean, Doctor?”
“You’re a sociopath.”
He looked taken aback from your bluntness for a second. He probably wasn’t expecting you to crack his code.
“You’ve lied this entire time for your own personal gain. I must admit your acting was really good. But my question is, what do you want?”
He was quiet for a second. You knew he was fighting a war on the inside.
“I really underestimated you y/n. I knew you were smart, but personally I don’t think PhDs make a person smart by default. You’ve really proven yourself to me.”
“My efforts were not made to impress you. You think too highly of yourself Mr. Jeon.”
His gaze switched, you had aggravated him. Not only by calling him by his last name, but by attacking his self image.
“Why don’t you come home with me, we can continue our conversation there.”
You shook your head, and arranged the cutlery neatly by the side of your half empty plate.
“I do not go home with patients, and I definitely do not go home with mobsters. You have already challenged my professionalism by taking me out to eat.”
He smirked.
“What if I stop being your patient? In all honesty I don’t really need your advice, Doctor.”
You grabbed your bag and got up from your seat.
“In all honesty I think you do. We will continue this conversation in my office next week. Good night Mr. Jeon.”
With that you walked away from the table. Not looking back.
The next few days you were on edge. Constantly overthinking everything that had happened that day with Jungkook. You almost wanted to call in sick. Terrified of what would happen next. But regardless of that you had to continue working. You couldn’t let your other patients get affected by whatever was going on with you. You said goodbye to Mrs. Humphrey. An elderly woman that had fallen into depression after her husband had passed. Once the door closed you fetched your lunch out of your bag. You didn’t feel like eating, but you knew you had to. If not your energy would be drained at the end of the day. After the first bite you started hearing noises outside. Erin was almost yelling outside your door. You stood up, wanting to investigate what the commotion was. Before you could take one step the door swung open. And there he stood, your nightmare for the last couple of days.
“I told him you were busy, Dr. y/l/n! I told him he couldn’t enter!”
Erin said hopelessly behind him. He was soaking wet from the rain. His hair plastered itself to his forehead. And his black shirt did the same to his abdomen. He didn’t move, he was just staring at you with a furious look in his eyes.
“It’s fine, Erin. I’ll handle this.”
Erin looked at Jungkook worriedly before looking back to you. She held up two fingers. You nodded, and she left.
“Sit.”
You said, as you yourself sat down behind your desk. He closed the door behind him, but didn’t sit down. He continued to lure near the door.
“You interrupt my lunch again, I don’t want this to become a habit.”
“Please, spear me the bullshit.”
He said, and you went quiet. Wanting him to say whatever he came here for.
“How did you do it?”
He said after some time. You looked confused at him. Not understanding what he was referring to.
“Did what?”
You asked in almost a sharp tone. You were annoyed. He let out a small laugh, it almost sounded like a sneer.
“You’re cute when you’re angry with me.”
He started slowly walking towards you.
“But I need to know how you did it, y/n.”
He stopped once he reached the end of your desk. You looked up at him.
“What did I do?”
You ask again. He puts his palms on the table and lean closer to you. You don’t move, trying to prove to him and yourself that you’re not scared.
“You figured out a side of me I never understood I had. If I, the person that’s bearing this disease didn’t know. How come you knew?”
You leaned back in your seat and crossed your arms. He was clearly distressed. Maybe even more than what you had been for the last days. And for some reason it pleased you.
“I told you, this is what I do. This is my job.”
You could tell he was conflicted in what to do next. You could practically see the way the wheels were turning inside his head. But eventually he sat down.
“I studied the human mind for six years to be able to understand things not even you are aware of.”
He scowled at you as you talked to him in a harsh tone.
“I’ve done research, and I’ve written books about this, that you have read may I add. What made you think that I wasn’t capable?”
He didn’t answer. The two of you just stared at each other.
“This is not a session, I demand answers, Jungkook.”
His eyes lit up when he heard his name fall off your tongue.
“Like I said, I underestimated you.”
He answered short.
“You didn’t answer my other question.”
You stated. He looked confused at you.
“The question from the other night. What do you want?”
He started laughing. You did not find it funny, and watched him as his fit of laughter died down.
“Y/n, you can’t be serious! You’re telling me that you were able to diagnose me with some bullshit, while I was pretending to be something else. But you’re not able to see the fact that I want you.”
The room got quiet. For the first time in a long time you felt completely speechless. He moved to get up from the sofa, but stopped the second he saw you roll your chair further away from him. He could tell you were afraid now, there was no point in acting tough.
“Come here.”
He said with a smirk and patted his thigh this time. There was still fight in you though.
“You’re disgusting.”
You uttered. He sneered at your comment.
“You’ve exploited me for your own satisfaction this entire time.”
You looked strictly at him, as he sighed.
“What was I supposed to do? You’re constantly on my mind. Day and night. And it’s awful!”
“That’s called an obsession.”
“I know what it’s called!”
He bit back. You went quiet, waiting for him to give you more information.
“The only way I can get a break is after i come to the thought of you. It usually takes around three times until I’m too tired to think of you.”
You couldn’t hide your disgust from your facial expression anymore. Looking at him as if he was a rat on the street.
“And then I thought if that helps, the real deal would help even more.”
He got up from the sofa now. You stayed seated, your hand slowly moving across your desk towards the telephone.
“I need you, y/n.”
You broke eye contact and looked down to hit the right number for the front desk. Jungkook quickly understood what happened and pushed the stationary phone off the desk. It fell to the floor with a bang, breaking it on impact. You got up quickly, wanting to distance yourself from him.
“How did you know? About the phone, about me. We never met before our sessions. Why? I don’t understand.”
You blurted out in pure stress of the situation. He smiled as he started walking towards the side of the desk. You walked the other way, wanting to keep the desk between the two of you. He chuckled.
“You’re cute when you’re confused too.”
You continued walking backwards. Trying to keep as much distance from him, while he tries to close it.
“I’ve followed you for a long time, baby. A very long time.”
The two of you had walked an entire round around the desk now. He jumped down onto the sofa again. His hand gracing the sofa cushions beside him.
“Do you want to know the full story?”
You knew what he was hinting at. Your entire body was screaming not to get anywhere near him. But you needed to know. He didn’t have anything to hold back now, you were certain he would tell you the truth. So you walked towards the sofa, carefully sitting down beside him. You took a second to compose yourself before looking at him. Signalising that’s you were ready. He smiled.
“I have known you since we both were children. Your father was my brothers shrink. He´s the one that had PTSD. I saw you for the first time in the hotel lobby after your father had finished his session with my brother. You were maybe 6 and sat there for so long, waiting for your father to return. When I saw you, I knew we were meant to be. We were soulmates. And for the first time in my life I felt something for someone.”
He grabbed your hand. You quickly out of reflex tried to wiggle yourself out of his grip. He tugged your hand harshly towards him and your entire upper body followed. Without your hand to catch you, you fell straight into his chest. His other hand sneaked around your waist as you composed yourself.
“Let me go.”
You said annoyed, placing your hand on his chest to keep a distance.
“If you want to hear the rest, you have to play by my rules, baby.”
His eyes focused on your lips as he whispered to you. You shook your head.
“I don’t need to know the rest. I can make out the sob story on my own. Boy falls in love, boy doesn’t get girl.”
He shook his head and let go of your waist. You quickly sat back up, brushing off imaginary dust from your lap.
“You should show me some respect.”
He said with a serious tone. You rolled your eyes and crossed your eyebrows.
“I’m not scared of you.”
He chuckled at your comment, placing his hand around the back of the sofa.
“I don’t want you to be scared of me either. I just think that you should show the man you owe your life to some respect.”
He touched your shoulder, drawing small circles on your jumper.
“I don’t owe you anything.”
He smirked.
“Oh, but you do. I made you the person you are today. Without me you wouldn’t be here.”
You sighed tiredly at him.
“You’re unbelievable.”
You got up from your seat and walked back to your desk. Starting to pack up your stuff. You were so done with him. He needed help, but you would no longer treat him. You decided as much.
“I need to get out of here, if you’re not gone when I’m back I’ll call the police.”
You put your bag over your shoulder, ready to walk away.
“How did you get into Yale, Doctor?”
He asked out of the blue. You stopped in your tracks.
“What? Why?”
He shrugged.
“Just seems so weird that someone with your grades would be able to attend any Ivy League school. Don’t you agree?”
You went quiet. Not knowing where he wanted this conversation to go.
“And don’t you think it’s weird how you always got A’s even when you were out partying instead of studying?”
You thought back to the years when you were studying. You originally did only apply to Yale just because your father went there. You didn’t think you actually was going to make it, because your grades were mediocre.
“What are you saying?”
“You have no idea how many people I had to blackmail to get you there. How many men I had follow you constantly. How many professors I had to bribe to make them give you a good grade. I’ve spent millions on you, y/n!”
Your mind was racing. You didn’t understand anything. Was your entire life a lie?
“I have to give it to you. Your first book made it without my help. But when you came out with your second book, and it wasn’t a success right away. I bought almost half the copies and payed a hefty amount of money to make it a New York Times best seller.”
You dropped your bag in awe. What he was saying made a lot of sense. You started rethinking every significant moment in your life. Wondering if he was behind it all. He got up from his seat and started moving towards you. But this time you didn’t step back. You let him come close to you.
“I’ve done so much for you, baby. Why are you so ungrateful?”
You looked up at him. He was now standing right in front of you. So close that you could almost feel his breath on your skin.
“I didn’t ask you to do any of this. You can’t keep me in debt for something I-“
You struggled with continuing the sentence. The reality of his words hit you, and your tears threatened to spill.
“It’s ok, baby. I’m not asking for much, considering what I’ve given you.”
He whispered calmly. His hands found your waist. He took one step closer to you and placed his forehead against yours.
“All I want is you, right here on this sofa, showing me how grateful you are.”
You couldn’t hold your tears in anymore, letting them slowly drip down your cheeks. One of his hands abandoned your waist to wipe away the hot tears on your cheek. You looked into his eyes as he continued to hold your face.
“If I do it, will you leave me alone?”
His eyes focus on your lips and how close you were. He had never been this close to you.
“I can never leave you. You’re my soulmate.”
He simply answered. You looked down at the floor.
“Jungkook, you’re delusional. You have to stop.”
“How can I stop? Huh? You’re the only one that matters in my life!”
You continued looking at the floor, even when he pushed himself off you in his fit of rage.
“I fucking love you!”
You shook your head, looking up at him this time.
“You don’t love me! You don’t even know me! You’ve created this illusion in your head that we are meant to be, but we’re not!”
You yelled back at him angrily.
“You’ve interfered in my life when I didn’t ask you to! You don’t have the right to do that!”
“And where would you be without me?”
He argued back.
“You act like you don’t care! But you know that without my help you wouldn’t be anything. You would’ve been a nobody.”
His words stung. What he was saying was the truth. The hard truth. You would have never made it to college. Never gotten this job. Never been a successful author. Never followed in your fathers footsteps and made him proud. You heard Jungkook sigh.
“I’m sorry baby, but it’s the truth.”
He said dejectedly. You took a deep breath. Realising what you had to do.
“I’ll do it.”
You simply said and met his eyes.
“I’ll have sex with you once, but after this I need you to stop.”
“Baby-“
“Listen to me! I’ll find you another psychologist. I want you to go to there and get help. When your treatment is over-“
You stopped for a second. Contemplating if you wanted to commit to the promise you were about to make.
“I’ll meet you again. To talk. I can’t promise you more than that.”
His eyes lit up and he swiftly lifted you in a hug. Letting out small sounds of excitement and shaking you around a little. You couldn’t help but smile at his boyish action. After a moment he put you down again, but continued to hold your waist.
“I’ll do whatever you say, baby. I’ll do anything for you.”
Your hands found his strong chest. You kept the eye contact, but your eyes couldn’t help but flick down to his lips for a split second. And that’s all he needed to kiss you. It started slow, but quickly got hotter. Your hands slid around his neck, unconsciously pulling him deeper into the kiss. He stepped backwards. You were taken aback by the sudden movement, but followed his lead. He guided the two of you to the sofa. The same sofa he had sat in every time he came to your sessions. He broke the kiss to jump down on the sofa. He looked up at you with nothing but lust in his eyes. He had been waiting for this for many years, and finally he had you. He reached out for you as you straddled his lap, feeling his already hard cock between the fabric of your trousers. His hands moved down to your ass. Grabbing it the second he had a chance, and letting out a satisfied groan. You reached down to the hem of your top and pulled it off.
“You’re so fucking hot.”
He said with half lidded eyes as he watched your bare skin. You smirked at his comment and reached for his shirt as well. He lifted his back off the sofa to help you get it off. Once it was off you started examining his tattoos. Tracing his arm with your finger all the way up to his shoulder. You stopped once you saw the little circular scar. Your entire body froze as you remembered his words from your last session. “My mother reached her gun and shot the man in the shoulder. But he shot her in the head.”. He looked at you confused for a second, before he looked at his shoulder where your eyes were glued. He understood what you were thinking.
“You killed your family.”
You said and looked back at him. He was already shaking his head.
“The man was you. You killed them.”
You tried to get up from his lap, suddenly scared of the killer you were straddling. But he held you down with a strong grip.
“Baby calm down, let me explain.”
You continued to struggle. Not listening to his words.
“Y/n!”
He suddenly screamed. Getting your attention. He sighed.
“I didn’t kill them.”
“I don’t fucking believe you.”
You started struggling again, now hitting his chest as well. He quickly flipped the two of you. Pushing you down onto the sofa with his own body weight. Holding your wrists harshly.
“So what if I killed them? It doesn’t take away from the fact that you still owe me this!”
He looked dangerous on top of you like that. A single tear fell down the side of your cheek. He was right yet again. He kissed you tenderly. It was a sharp contrast to the tone in his voice.
“You still owe me your body.”
He started kissing down your neck. Eagerly taking one of your boobs in his hand. His crotch grinded against you for a second before you heard him curse under his breath.
“I’ll have to taste you another time. I can’t fucking wait any longer to be inside you.”
He started working on your jeans. Ripping them off in a hasty speed together with your panties. He quickly loosened his belt and repeated the action on himself. His cock sprung free, but you weren’t able to look at it for more than a second before he lifted your legs over his shoulders and pushed into you. The two of you moaned in unison. He was big, but he took little to no time for you to adjust, as he started thrusting into you with brutal force.
“You’re so fucking tight.”
He moaned, stopping his motion to spit on your pussy. Using it as lubricant. He continued quickly after. Moans and heavy breathing filled your office as the two of you strived to reach your orgasms. He reached down and started rubbing your clit. Almost overstimulating you.
“I’ve waited for this for so long, baby. You feel better than I ever imagined.”
You felt a familiar knot building in your lower stomach. The rapid speed of his hands and the stretching of his cock making you come closer to release quicker than ever.
“I need to come inside you. I need to fill you up, baby.”
You nodded. Not knowing or caring what you said yes to. You were already on cloud nine and needed him to continue whatever he was doing.
“Say my name.”
You understood he was close, and you were too.
“Jungkook!”
You moaned as your orgasm washed over you. You legs clenched around him, and your hands found his arms. Digging your nails into his skin. He came the second he heard his name escape your mouth. He let you ride out your orgasm, before he fell on top of you. You felt his breath go back to normal as he nuzzled into your neck. The two of you laid there in serenity for a while. Just feeling each others heartbeats and listening to each others breathing.
He would do as you told him. He would go see someone. He would do whatever it took to have you like that again. He would never let you go. You owed him this after all.
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yandere-daydreams · 1 year ago
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tw - non/con, manipulation, mentions of breeding, and unbalanced power dynamics.
Snow Leopard!Satoru, who's ecstatic the day his owner, Suguru, brings you home. He's the pinnacle of a spoiled pet, constantly showered in toys and treats and affection, but his owner's a busy man, and he tends to sulk when left home alone. He's had other companions before, another leopard hybrid who nearly killed him before being released back into the wild and a black panther who somehow proved to be a worse influence on Satoru than Satoru was on her, but you're supposed to be more permanent solution, another hosuepet to keep him company when Suguru can't. You're a sweet little housecat, all wide-eyes and raised ears, but still, Suguru wouldn't be surprised if you're begging to go back to the shelter less than an hour after meeting your new roommate.
Snow Leopard!Satoru, who falls in love with you immediately. Suguru practically has to keep him in a chokehold while you explore your new home, eventually curling up on your new bed. Satoru's on top of you as soon as he gets loose, purring obnoxiously while he runs his bristled tongue over your cheek. Suguru's half-convinced that your first day's going to end with bloody claws and bandages, but you only nuzzle into his chest and knead at the blankets underneath you. Satoru's a difficult cat to put up with, and Suguru's relieved that you, at least, find him tolerable.
Snow Leopard!Satoru, who's absolutely massive compared to you. The tips of your pointed ears barely reach his collarbones, and your wrist is only as thick as his fluffy tail. His favorite hobby quickly becomes carrying you from room to room despite your softly mewled protests, and he's not happy unless he's pressed against you as closely as possible. He used to force himself into Suguru's lap whenever possible, but now, he's unbearable unless you're sitting pretty in his. He doesn't even complain when you lose your temper and dig your little fangs (barely half the size of his - a poor imitation of a real predator's) into his arm, just grinning as he tugs at your ears and pinches your cheeks. He's not exactly a wild animal, but he's still at the top of his food chain. You're not quite a mouse, but you might as well be, compared to him.
Snow Leopard!Satoru, who's calling you his mate after less than a full month. You don't know what it means, often parroting it back as more of a question than a term of endearment, and Suguru just brushes it off as Satoru being deliberately irritating. He keeps it up, though. even after you start refusing to respond to it.
Snow Leopard!Satoru, who starts introducing you to new "games". You know you don't stand a chance against him, but somehow, he always manages to goad you into roughhousing, into squirming as he pins you under his full weight. He likes to dangle things above your head, to see how long it takes your instincts to get the best of you before your chest is pressed against his and you're pouting so adorably as you jump and bat at his hand. Sometimes, when you fall asleep mid-grooming session, he'll let his mouth wander lower than it should, and you'll wake up to his tongue lapping over your chest, his face buried between your thighs in a way that leaves you teary-eyed and warm. You've tried to tell Suguru, but you always get embarrassed and end up mumbling something as vague as 'Satoru's being mean to me, again.' In the end, Satoru only ever gets a slap on the wrist and a new reason to tease you, next time Suguru turns his back.
Snow Leopard!Satoru, who fucks you whenever Suguru isn't home. He planned on waiting for your first heat (delayed by your shelter suppressants and the stress of a new home), and he knows he's not supposed to, but he just can't get enough of having your smaller body curled up underneath his, your tail thrashing from side to side as he lazily rolls his hips against yours. You tend to whine, at first, to go on and on about how weird it feels and how much it hurts, but as soon he gets his cock inside of you, all those complaints tend to go away. It's almost funny, how easily your stupid little kitty mind gets all hazy and cockdrunk. He always loves you, but he loves you most when you're drooling and purring for his cum, begging him to breed you properly between hitched moans.
Snow Leopard!Satoru, who's not even mad when Suguru catches him bouncing your half-conscious, fucked-out body on his cock. He wants to be the best possible mate for you, and he couldn't do that if he wasn't willing to show you off <3
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aajjks · 10 months ago
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tw/ hórny èx bf, hè ís à crèèp, nôncôn, èxplïcït ând nsfw thèmès.
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It’s hard to break up with someone like him because he doesn’t get the hint- it’s been barely 6 days and he finds himself right in front of your door.
Really horny. And quite frankly messed up.
He bangs on your door- at first he’s gentle, but then he finds himself losing his patience when you don’t open up after a few bangs at your door, even with the bell It’s not working.
He just might have to be a little bit more aggressive with it. See now, he doesn’t like being aggressive with you. He knows that you hate this side of him. That’s why you broke up with him in the first place.
It’s not really a break up to him though because you’re just trying to break and he thinks that this break has lasted way longer than it should have in the first place. So he takes deep breath, and he starts banging at it like a maniac.
“Yn! YN OPEN UP!” But you don’t. You’re really trying to test his patience and then you try to lecture him on his aggressive nature.
His pupils are dilated at this point, he’s feeling so crazy right now, it’s aching and his pants, and he has missed you like crazy-staring at your pictures is not enough anymore. Not at all.
It’s your fault, you know.
It’s your fault that you’re so beautiful and that you have his heart in your hands… he closes his eyes for a moment, and then he takes out the spare keys he had to your apartment-of course, you don’t know about them, but he had a locksmith make them for him.
Without any rational thinking- he unlocks your apartment with ease.
And soon the familiar scent of your home hits him and your ex boyfriend finds himself relaxing, his head feels a little better now. “Yn!~~~” he calls out your name with affection but you still don’t respond.
Weird.
So he decides to check if you’re home. He really hopes that you are because he needs to talk to you and… a lot of other other things.
First to fall of course it’s gonna be your bedroom, his feet, take him to the familiar room so easily, because he remembers every single room in your home, like the back of his hand.
And to his surprise? He hears the shower running. A Cheshire Cat smile spreads across his lips. But before he can think anything else, the shower drops sounds come to a halt.
Oh, so you must be done..
He waits- by sitting on your bed and waiting for you to come out, and he doesn’t have to wait long, so he unzips his pants, creepy? He doesn’t give a fuck.
He needs to fuck you and get you back. He has everything you ever want. Quite frankly, you can be ungrateful. Anyone would kill to be in your place… but too bad he wants you.
And there you are, in all your wet glory-with a towel loosely wrapped around your body, you gasp, expected, in surprised to see him, he smirks.
Your eyes widen and you open your mouth to scream at him, he doesn’t mind you can because he’s missed your voice a lot.
“Hi baby.” He greets you. Licking his lips, because he feels himself getting harder when he stares at your soaked, freshly washed body.
You look so sexy like this I can’t help but remember all the times he would fuck you senselessly in the shower or sometimes when you were done with it.
You’re just so irresistible. You get him so horny for no reason at all. It’s your fault and now you’re going to have to help him out.
“W-WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?” You finally say something to him, even though you’re screaming at him like a maniac, he doesn’t mind.
“I can’t help it baby you know I love you and I can’t live without you-and I’m so horny right now.” He licks his lips again, getting up from your bed to walk towards you.
He needs to touch you right now.
“I told you you couldn’t break up with me but you thought you could.. so I just wanted to give you a little break, but I think it has lasted enough now I need you back.” He groans. You smell so good even his muscles are pulsing.
His eyes are you like a predator and You should know that you cannot escape.
He is way too strong for you.
“Come on now- look at me? I’m so fucking hard because I was thinking about you- and look at you.. fuck…” he breathes out, taking you by your waist.. but then he gets another idea.
So instead of holding you, he drops to his knees.
This is gonna get you so weak for him.
“Let me eat your pussy. Missed it so much.” He looks into your eyes when he grabs your legs. You barely manage to hold onto your towel, which was about to fall. And something switches in your eyes.
You have missed him too.
He smiles. “I bet you missed me too. Fuck- baby let me have a taste please- I’m doing this to make it up to you. I know I pissed you off, so let me make it up.” He breathes, slowly, removing the towel and he starts to tease you by rubbing his hands over to your clit.
You whimper, you’ve always been so weak for him.
He knows you need him-equally as bad as he needs you. And he’s going to make you realize it tonight. He leans his face closer to your cunt, and you grab his wide shoulders for support.
“Oh look at you baby- you’ve already started to get wet.” He coos, pressing a kiss to your thigh, and then his kisses get closer to your heat, “f-fuck. You’re so fucking bad for this.” You moan out. He knows that you’re trying to reject him still even though he knows what your heart and body really want.
Him.
“I know yn.. but fuck- you’re my bad habit.” He replies before he takes one of his fingers out of your pussy and he smashes his mouth into it- his tongue starting to eat you out.
“Nghhh fuck.” You moan as he starts to tease you again with his teeth- he’s so messy right now, all sloppy as he pushes his tongue in deeper and deeper.
That’s how you like it.
His mind is in a frenzy because the noises you’re making are purely sinful- your towel gals to the ground and your back arches.
He won’t let you fall.
He will make you cum in his tongue.
“Ugh fuck..” he groans as he eagerly laps at your juices, you’re giving him so much.
And he knows you’re already going to cum.
“A-Agh fuck don’t stop- don’t fuckin stop.” You command him and grab on his locks- that arouses him anymore- you taste so fuckin good.
He can kill anyone for you.
“O-Oh fuck- baby cum on my tongue- you can do it.” He praises you- his hands on your ass as he squeezes it, you pull on his hair.
His teeth graze your clit.
“Should I fuckin bite? Since you’re so *pants* fuckin mean to me? Nah.. I love you..” he barely manages to speak because you’re suffocating him and you’re going to cum.
“You can *pants* only cum if you come back to *pants* m-me.”
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BNHA- hawks, aizawa, bakugo, deku
JJK- gojo, geto, toji, sukuna
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potaetopic · 1 year ago
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god, this is so good! wasnt expecting this when i read the summary, caught me off guard fr
visions
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you’re convinced by your friends to go to a party and let go of the memories of your ex just for one night. unfortunately for you, jungkook doesn’t want to be let go.
@momnomnom @darkuni63 @sweetempathprunetree writer: quay (explicit-tae)
word count: 5.186
warning: yandere themes, smut, dark themes, cursing, manipulation, toxic relationships, non-con, reader is drugged, impregnation kink, spitting, nipple sucking, biting, dirty talking, blood, neck slitting,
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Your eyes snap open when the loud and ringing noise of your alarm. You’re quick to yawn, body stretching before grasping your phone off the bedside table. The alarm is titled “work” and you silenced it with a groan.
Your eyes catch the day of the week. Friday. The time was 8 a.m - an hour before you had to be at work. You contemplated calling off, but understood that it would cause nothing but your boss to be petty and write you off the schedule for the next few days - so you decided against it. Your feet kick the covers off of your body and swing to touch the cold, wooden floor. You winced at the impact, sending shivers up your spine.
Your phone sounds suddenly. You furrow a brow and go to grab it, color draining for your face. You bite your lip at the unknown number displayed on the screen.
Hesitantly, you decline the call and quickly block the number. Unknowingly, you begin to feel uneasy as you make your way to your bathroom to wash up. You’re trembling as you wash your face and when you brush your teeth, you can feel just how terrified you are.
It’s only been a month, you note. You had no doubt in your mind that Jungkook was behind the phone call - he’s called nearly every morning since you broke up with him and quickly signed a restraining order. It was only a temporary one until the two of you went to court, but it was necessary to do so.
You met Jungkook nearly a year ago. You recall the way the man has entered your job - the one you had prior to having to quit because of a scene he caused - and smiling brightly at you. He asked various questions about the countless sweets and desserts you had displayed behind the glass and you answered the best you could.
Each day Jungkook returned, buying desserts such as iced cream, candy, cookies - anything. He would munch on it a bit while the both of you talked and laughed and before he left, he assured he’d leave a tip for you at the counter.
Day by day, you expected Jungkook’s arrival. It made your job less boring and you also found yourself willing to come to work more dolled up. You’d coat your lips with gloss that you knew Jungkook liked (he’d always flicker his eyes to them when you’d talk) and style your hair differently each time.
Your first date with Jungkook was at the very same shop you worked at. You came in on an off day to pick up something you forgot and just as you were leaving, Jungkook was entering. His eyes were wide upon witnessing you face to face  - this time you in casual clothing instead of a work uniform. 
By the third date, you and Jungkook were officially dating - him asking you once the movie you two watched at the cinema was over - you agreed without a thought.
By the second month of dating, you noticed a shift. Jungkook was sweet, sure. Caring. He offered you rides everywhere you needed to go, and when he couldn't he’d never felt comfortable with you going alone. You brushed it off with Jungkook just being a cautious person.
Month three was when he became vocal in how you dressed. He didn’t appreciate the way other men looked at you - his words exactly - and you were giving said men a show by wearing shorts or skirts that were too short. He changed your wardrobe with clothing that he deemed was “outside clothes” and some that were “indoor for his eyes only”. Again, you brushed it off. Jungkook was your boyfriend now and his opinions mattered.
By the sixth month, Jungkook began to isolate you from your friends. “Why do you always hang with them on the weekends?” he’d ask when you were invited to a gathering. “Why can’t I go? Are other guys going to be there?” he’d asked once, eyes glaring at you. “Your friends are single. You aren’t. Why do you need to go to a club where other single men would be at?!” he had hissed, hands in his hair as if he was seconds from pulling it out.
Jungkook was amazing at comforting you - or so you thought. “I know how men are, baby.” he murmured while stroking your hair in his embrace. “If able, they’ll take advantage of you. Your friends cannot protect you from a man willing to do you harm.”
But the man that had harmed you was Jungkook himself. 
Jungkook was never physically abusive. Sex with him was rough, yes, but you enjoyed it. 
Jungkook’s abuse was manipulative - often pinning you against your friends that you were no longer invited to places they’d be because you would either bring Jungkook, or the man would come unbeknownst to you. Jungkook would call you countless times until you picked up and asked when you’d be home - and if the answer wasn’t good enough for him, he’d insist on picking you up himself. “Why can’t I come?” Jungkook asked when you were hastily walking out the door to meet your friends. “You’re not going to see your friends. You’re cheating on me!” he’d hiss, eyes blown wide and neck veins pulsing. 
Last month, marking the eighth month, you decided to break up with Jungkook. You were nervous to say the least. You thought of several ways to break up with the man - you decided that in a public place would be best. You had more respect for him than to end the relationship over the phone. However, you also could not trust what he would do if you allowed him into your home. 
You invited Jungkook to meet you in a public area - a park where you and he walked hand in hand many times. You were a bunch of nerves, especially when Jungkook was strolling towards you with a wide grin and in his hands, sunflowers.
Your heart flutters when he offers them to you, and awkwardly, you take them in your hands. You and Jungkook sat at a bench and he talked about how much he missed you, peppering kisses along your cheeks before you managed to push yourself away.
“You’re…leaving me…?” Jungkook's voice was dangerously low and calm,  but his eyes were glaring daggers at you. You placed the flowers onto his lap and managed to get out of his embrace. His eyes are following you as you - slowly, so slowly - walk backwards, eyes apologizing while you remain silent.
The following week was Jungkook aggressively knocking at your door until you threatened to call the police. He would call nonstop and send multiple messages that you had to change your number to get him to stop - even if it never did, only slowed him down until he somehow found your number again. You had to change jobs more than once when he would show up at random times - you had no choice but to file a restraining order. You thought that maybe this would stop him - and for a moment it did.
Until today.
The unknown number calling you was no doubt Jungkook. You never answered any number that wasn’t familiar to you and instead blocked them. They left no voicemail after calling and each time, it was a different number displayed. 
You walk out of your bathroom and down the hall to your small kitchen. You didn’t have time to eat anything for breakfast outside of a quick muffin. You would be late if you cooked or even made coffee.
Your muffin jolts out of your hand when you hear sudden knocking at your door. Your blood runs cold at how powerful and rapid they’re coming. Your mind is on one person.
“Open the door, Y/N.”
Jungkook was behind the door.
Jungkook didn’t care for whatever petty restraining order you had against him. The constant calls told you so.
“I can hear you moving.”
You stiffen at his words. You didn’t know what to do. 
You weren’t once afraid of Jungkook - he has never hit you. But he was like another person when he was angered. He wasn’t the same man with the sweet smile and the soft eyes - it was as if a switch flipped and he was a completely different man.
“I just want…closure.”
Jungkook's words crack as he speaks and your heart betrays you. You were beginning to feel guilty for putting him through this. Your friends told you that it wasn’t your fault, that Jungkook was good at manipulating you. 
“Please, Y/N…baby.”
Your hand was on the door handle before you knew it and you cracked the door open. 
Jungkook’s eyes are wide when you do and he gives you a dazzling smile. He steps closer but stops himself from entering when you don’t open the door wider for him.
Jungkook’s smile falters. “You’re…”
“You can’t be here, Jungkook.” you manage to say without stuttering.
“You…are serious?”
You knit your brows. 
Were you serious?
You changed your number multiple times in a span of a month that it was insane. You blocked multiple numbers when changing yours became tiring. You got a restraining order against him.
Did Jungkook think this was just a simple misunderstanding and you needed to be “alone” before coming back to him?
“Yes. I’m serious, Jungkook. Please leave.” 
Jungkook doesn’t move. His eyes are searching yours for any hint that you were hesitant - but he found nothing.
You were serious.
You wanted nothing to do with him, Jungkook grunts.
You were willing to throw everything he offered you out the window because of what? A few disagreements? Arguments? Your single friends?
“So there’s nothing that is going to bring you back to me?” Jungkook tries one last time. He doesn’t want to blow up and demand you stop being the dumb bitch you were acting like now. He didn’t want to raise his voice and break down your door - because you would be frightened and close yourself off once more. He was trying but you were too selfish to see it.
“No.”
Jungkook’s heart shatters and he doesn’t say anything when you close your door. He hears you lock it but he decides that if you couldn’t allow yourself to accept his love - then others wouldn’t either. He was done with being nice to you - you didn’t deserve his kindness. If you were going to act like the damsel in distress, then he was going to give you something to be distressed about.
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The music was far too loud to hear anyone who wasn’t speaking directly into your ear. The air was muggy and humid. It smelt of cheap cologne/perfume and several different types of alcohol - but you were just happy to be here. 
Well, as happy as you could be standing alone in the corner of the home while others danced, laughed and drank. You were invited by your friends to come to “let loose” and “get your mind off of your crazy ex”. You agreed - but now you were left to your own devices while they mingled elsewhere.
Speaking of your “crazy ex”, you haven’t heard from Jungkook in nearly two months. It was a sigh of relief, truly. You assumed he wanted closure in seeing you once last time to confirm that the relationship has indeed ended. There weren’t any random pops up at your home or work, no random phone calls or text messages from random numbers. Slowly, you were beginning to be less afraid of seeing the man out and about. 
“First time at a party?”
Your head whips around to a tall figure beside you. You can smell the alcohol in the cup he’s holding. He’s offering a small smile as he towers beside you/ He’s close to you just so he could speak loud enough for you to hear. 
“First time in a while.” you respond to him. You give a small smile in return. 
“Are you here alone?” the guy takes a sip of his drink. 
“No. My friends are…”
“...Around here somewhere?” the guy nods in agreement. “So are mine. Haven’t seen them in an hour.”
You laughed.
You and the tall guy - who’s name you learned was Dean - hit it off quickly. You and him stood together and talked the majority of the night - your friends and his never returning, but you aren’t surprised. You weren’t as outgoing and friendly as your friends were. You’re positive they’re playing a game of beer pong (and losing). 
As another hour rolls around, you were seated on a large leather couch that you’re surprised was vacant with Dean, your head began to hurt. You feel hot and stuffy and your vision is blurring. 
“Are you okay?” you hear Dean say. “Do you need some water?”
You nod your head, allowing Dean to pass you a bottle of water.
Jungkook - on the other hand - was livid. The nerve of you to break up with him just to come to a party and look for another man. And not just that - but to get drugged by said man and not even notice it. Jungkook lingered deep into the side lines that you would never see him - but luckily he was there watching over you. He witnessed Dean put a small pill into your drink while you were busy laughing at something he said - Jungkook clenched his fists. 
Jungkook isn’t far behind when you are being escorted out of the large sitting room, a sea of people not bothering to stop and see what Dean is doing with a groggily woman.
Jungkook’s breathing becomes heavy when you are pushed into a vacant room, the door closing behind them. 
Jungkook blamed your friends for leaving you alone in an environment that you didn’t belong to. No matter how hard he tried to tell you that you didn’t belong to a friend group such as this, you never listened. Now look - you were drugged by a man you didn’t know and about to get raped.
But luckily, Jungkook was here to save you.
Jungkook knocks aggressively onto the door, not stopping until the door swings open and an annoyed Dean surfaces. Jungkook doesn’t hesitate to draw back his fist and plant it right between the man's eyes.
And again.
And again.
And a few more times until Dean is a bloody mess, squirming away and out of the room. 
Jungkook shakes his head and closes the door, locking it behind him. You aren’t completely unconscious, but he’s positive you will be soon. Your shirt is off already, Dean wasting no time.
Your bra - a red lace - looks amazing against your skin. It makes his heart swell and a smile forms onto his lips. It was a gift from him that you kept.
“Y/N, baby.” Jungkook coos, hovering above you. He wraps his arms around your body, you groaning low when he does. “I missed you so much.”
Jungkook sends kisses down your neck, arms never wanting to leave you. Your smell is tainted with alcohol, but his nose catches on the faint smell of vanilla he adores on you. 
“I told you not to have such horrible friends.” Jungkook tsks. You are yet to be fully unconscious. You moan out an inaudible response and Jungkook only coos again.
“You’re so beautiful, baby.” Jungkook presses himself into you, hard length at the center of your clothed core. “Do you miss me as much as I missed you?”
You do, Jungkook concludes. He dips his hands beneath your jeans and finds how wet you truly are for him. Jungkook removes his hands and pops it into his mouth, shuddering at your taste. It’s been so long - too long. He’s angered that you went too far away from the relationship. A restraining order? Far too dramatic for his taste. But he’ll let it slide and choose to forgive you because here you lay, beautiful as ever. Wet for him and him only.
Jungkook doesn’t waste any more unnecessary time. He needs to feel your warm essence around him. He pulls your jeans down along with your underwear, eyes widening at the beauty that was your wet pussy. He feels the bulge in his own pants begin to tighten and he just cannot wait any longer.
Foreplay was your favorite when it came to Jungkook, he knows this. You would cum so hard against his tongue, squirming and begging for him to stop because of just how overstimulated you were, but Jungkook wouldn’t. He would let you cum over and over on his tongue, fingers, thigh - wherever you wanted to.
However, now he could not console himself. The need to be inside you was far greater than anything. Once you and he were back together than he would allow you to sit on his face where you belong.
Jungkook pumps his cock as he inches closer to you. He rubs the tip of it against your swollen clit and shudders once more. Goosebumps litter his arm and he can’t hold back anymore. He enters you with a high pitched groan, hands going to place themselves on your hips.
Jungkook hears your moans as he sinks in and out of you, the sound of his skin slapping echoing off the walls. You were so wet and tight that he’s proud - proud that you haven’t let another man touch what was his. That even when you were upset and the both of you went through this break, that you understood your role in the end.
“Fuck, baby.” Jungkook snaps his hips into you harder, left hand going to toy with your clit. It’s sensitive as he remembers it to be. His right hand snatches the lacy bra down so he could watch the way your breast bounce for him. “So beautiful and all mine.” he hisses, leaning down to suck a nipple into his mouth. 
Jungkook sucks onto it until it’s swollen and throbbing, and he proceeds to the next one. He could never get enough of you, littering bite marks around your breast and collar bone.
“Your pussy’s milking my cock so good, baby.” Jungkook grunts, his thrust becoming sloppy. You were so wet, pussy clenching around him while your juices ruined the sheets. 
Jungkook snaps his eyes shut, groaning loudly. A free hand slaps down harshly on your stomach as he pounds into you. He recalls the few times the two of you spoke of the future - of getting married and having children. He declared that he desired them to look exactly like you - you were just so perfect in his eyes. “I’m going to put a baby in you.” Jungkook feels himself about to cum. His hands don't remove from your stomach. It was soft and it drove him crazy just thinking about you round with his child - your breast enlarging with breast milk to feed his child. You would be an amazing mother and he would enjoy nothing more than for you to be at home while he provided for you and the child you both shared.
Jungkook cums inside of you, twitching. He’s humming slowly, trying to regain his breath. He places a deep kiss upon your lips, sweaty forehead placed against your own.
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Your head is pounding. Your throat is sore and dry and your body aches. You try to rake your mind about what the hell is going on and what has happened to lead up to this. You blink your eyes open, hissing how bright the light shines above you.
Your wrist is aching and when you attempt to move, you notice you cannot. Your wrist appears to be detained and when your mind registers this, you begin to whimper. Your vision is blurry with tears, but you blink them away to attempt to see what the hell is going on.
“Baby!”
Your thrashing stiffens at the familiar voice. Your blood runs cold and your mind is screaming alarm bells.
“You’re awake.”
You blink away your tears rapidly to regain your vision. It takes you a few moments, but when you do you’re crying all over again.
Jungkook was before you, but it wasn’t just him before you that had you screaming and crying. It was the man, tall and smiling warmly, covered in blood. The irony smells hit your nostrils and your stomach churns. Your head whips around to your surroundings, unsure of just where the hell you’re at. Your wrist is bound behind you. You’re sitting on a wooden chair in a room unknown to you.
“I didn’t want you to see this but…” Jungkook sighs, trailing off. He steps away to show you what was behind him and the reason why he’s covered in blood. 
Your throat releases a horrified whimper, eyes wide with tears.
“I had to do it, baby.” Jungkook says with a shake of his head. “They weren’t real friends. They left you alone at a party where you were drugged!”
The lifeless body of both of your friends laid flat against the ground, blood covering their skin even more than it did Jungkook’s. You want to vomit at the horrifying scene but somehow manage not to.
“P-Please-”
“Don’t start with your shit!” Jungkook raises a bloody hand to silence you. “Listen to me.”
You flinch when Jungkook takes a step towards you, eyes closing ready for him to deliver the same fate as your friends.
Jungkooks eyes widen at the sight of you cowering before him.
“You think I would harm you?” Jungkook scoffs in disbelief. “Everything I have done has been…for you. For us.” Each word that releases from Jungkook’s mouth is a hiss. His eyes are wide and he appears utterly insane. “I saved you from being raped by that bastard! I got rid of the trash you call friends!” 
You jump when you hear banging coming from Jungkook, but you open your eyes to look. 
“You left me for what, Y/N? To be left alone at a party and drugged? These weren’t your friends.” Jungkook scoffs. He goes as far as to spit on the two girls you dare to call your friends. “You got a restraining order against me just for me to not be the bad guy.”
You scream when you feel a hand on your jaw. Jungkook shakes your head to force your eyes open. His hands feel wet and sticky, obviously with the blood of your friends. 
“I love you, Y/N.” Jungkook voice cracks as if he was the one that is hurting - as if you weren’t the one that had to witness the deceased body of your friends and an ex boyfriend declaring he did it for you. “Say it back….” Jungkook’s lips are soft when they kiss your cheeks. Your salty tears are warm against his lips. “...Say it back….” Jungkook continues.
“Fuck you!” you scream. You’re thrashing, kicking your feet to get Jungkook away from you. Your wrists are burning with your arms attempting to release them.
“Already did.” Jungkook laughs gleefully. He isn’t upset at your outburst. You’re a pure soul and he’s saddened that you had to see this - death of fake friends and learning the realization of your (almost) assault. “How could you not remember the way we made love, baby?”
Jungkook trails a hand on your covered stomach. You stopped your struggle at his words, eyes wide and tearful. 
“You were so wet for me, baby. You missed me just as much as I missed you.” Jungkook taps your stomach gently. “Soon the product of our love is going to grow.”
Jungkook’s eyes are shining with love - to you it was psychotic. Jungkook was insane. This wasn’t love - you heard him admit to raping you; there was no way you could consent while drugged. 
“No…” you shake your head at Jungkook’s words, but the man only nods. “...I hate you.”
“You don’t mean that.”
“I hate you.” you repeat.
“Stop.” Jungkook hisses, eyebrows knitting. “How could you say that after-” “I hate you!” you scream in his face - and you repeat it again, again and again. You repeat it until Jungkook’s hand tangles into your hair and yanks it back. 
“Say you love me, Y/N.” Jungkook demands. “Say you’ll stay with me.”
Jungkook was crazy - there was no well in hell you would remain with a murderer. If you thought Jungkook was bad before, your thoughts on him have worsened now.
“I’ll never love you.”
Jungkook's heart thumps rapidly. Your words make his heart ache.
“You don’t mean that.” Jungkook shakes his head. His hand tightens itself in your hair. “You’re just upset. This is my fault. I should’ve taken you home.”
“I’ll never love you!” you hiss at him. 
Jungkook’s heart thumps again. His eyes stare into your own. 
You weren’t lying.
You hated him.
You feared him.
Your eyes weren’t lying, nor were the words coming from your mouth.
“I see.” Jungkook murmurs, dropping his hand from your hair. He takes a step back, tilting his head at you. “You’ll never love me again.” he states, more to himself than you. “If I cannot have your love, Y/N, then there is no reason for either of us to live.”
Your breathing increases at Jungkook’s words. He reaches into his jacket pocket, removing a pocket knife.
“I love you.” Jungkook’s crying now as he speaks. “Everything I did was for you!”
“Jungkook-”
“Don’t speak now.” Jungkook interrupts, pointing the knife at your throat. “You’ll never love me and I’ve accepted that.” Jungkook drops to his knee. He leans down to your face. You’re whimpering - and even now, Jungkook thinks you’re beautiful. It saddens him that this is what you chose. “Maybe…if we’re reborn…you and I can raise the child we spoke about.”
“Jung-”
Jungkook places his lips on yours - a final kiss he tells himself. He places the pocket knife onto your throat and slits it. It’s deep and he feels the blood rush out and squirts onto him. You cough into the kiss, and Jungkook isn’t far behind. He slits his own throat just as deep. He’s coughing, placing his head onto your lap, desiring to be just as close to you in death as he desired in life.
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Your eyes snap open and a scream erupts from your lungs right when the loud and ringing noise of your alarm. Your hands grip your neck, heart pumping outside your chest. 
You’re in your room.
A shaky hand grabs your phone that was laid on the bedside table and turn off the alarm. It was titled “work”.
Your eyes watch as your phone displays the day of the week.
Friday.
8 A.M.
An hour before you had to be at work.
Was everything that happened to you…
“A dream?” your voice is hoarse and low. There’s goosebumps littering your skin and you’re visibly shaking.
You were having deja vu.
No, you did this already - you’re sure of it. 
Your dream began with you waking up just as you were now. Friday at 8 A.M.
Your feet kick the covers off of your body and swing to touch the cold, wooden floor. You winced at the impact, sending shivers up your spine. You didn’t need to think what was going to happen next. 
Your phone sounds suddenly. Color drained from your face. You knew who was calling you without having to look at the screen. You were reliving your dream. Could you call it a dream or vision?
Were you given a second chance at life?
You recall the way you declined the unknown number and proceed in getting ready for work. Jungkook was knocking at your door. You recalled the party you were invited to, your friends, Dean.
You scurry down the hall to your bathroom just as your stomach churns. You release the vomit into the toilet, clenching the side of it.
“What’s going on…” you murmur to yourself, flushing the toilet. There was no way you were reliving what you had dreamt.
You began to brush your teeth and wash your face, hands trembling.
You don’t go to the kitchen like you would usually when you wake up. If your dream was correct, Jungkook would be-
A sudden knock makes you yelp. You’re stiff in your spot, eyes wide.
In your dream, you told Jungkook that you wanted nothing to do with him. That the relationship was over.
You told Jungkook you hated him as he stands before you, covered in blood.
You could feel the way the knife rips through your throat, unable to breath or help yourself.
“Open the door Y/N.”
Jungkook’s voice frightens you.
Your breathing becomes heavy.
Your dream was becoming a reality - if it was ever a dream. 
‘Maybe…if we’re reborn…you and I can raise the child we spoke about.’
Jungkook’s last words replay in your head while the hair on your skin raises. 
Before your mind thinks, your feet are moving. You slam the door open, eyes wide at Jungkook. He stands straighter at seeing you after a month.
“Y/N…are you okay?” Jungkook wants to hug you. You appear to be seconds away from crying and it causes his heart to thump.
“Jungkook…” you trail off, voice cracking.
“Y/N…baby…” Jungkook takes a step closer.
You wrap your arms around Jungkook, crashing into his chest. 
Jungkook’s distraught, but he doesn’t push you away. He wraps his arms around you and presses his nose into your hair, inhaling your sweet scent. 
Your hands clench his shirt, trembling. 
You didn’t want to die.
You didn’t want your friends to die.
“What’s wrong?” Jungkook murmurs after a sweet moment of having you in his arms. “I missed you.”
“I missed you, too.” you sob.
 Your mind is screaming at you to run. To push him away. There was a possibility that you could do things right - not go to a party and meet Dean. You can just go to work and home.
However, you’re tired. You’re tired of the phone calls and having to constantly look over your shoulder. There was a possibility that you could face the same fate as the dream.
“P-Please s-stay with me.” you stutter out.
Jungkook's heart pounds with excitement. “Really?” he gently pushes you back to look at your face. You’re crying, tears streaming down your puffy cheeks. “Don’t cry, baby. I love you.” he wipes your tears, a small smile on your lips. 
You nod your head at him. You step back and allow him to follow you in. 
Jungkook closes the door behind him. He leans down to kiss your lips. 
Jungkook sighs into the kiss. He missed your soft lips.
“I promise, baby, I’ll be better.” Jungkook murmurs against your lips. “I don’t want to lose you.”
You swallow the lump in your throat. “I don’t want to lose you.” you murmur to him.
You’re unsure if this decision was the correct one, but you were far too frightened to see what an angered Jungkook would do to you in this reality if you denied him.
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shinig6mis · 12 days ago
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“off limits, man. i mean it.”
that’s what eijiro had told him, more than once, and katsuki had scoffed every damn time. like hell he’d be interested in his best friend’s little sister.
except he was. and he hated it.
he wasn't supposed to feel like this.
like when you threw your arms around his neck in greeting, squeezing tight before bouncing away like it was nothing. katsuki barely reacted, just grunted under his breath, but his hands clenched at his sides for a full minute after.
or the way his eyes always found you in a crowd. didn’t matter where you were—across the room, halfway down the block—his gaze snapped to you first like it was wired into his damn brain.
and god, the clothes. you stole his hoodies as a habit growing up, draping yourself in them like they belonged to you. eijiro thought it was funny, called you a little thief. but katsuki just gritted his teeth, tried not to think about how fucking good you looked in his clothes, how warm it made his chest feel when you tugged the sleeves over your hands and smiled up at him.
he hated when you dated. he had no right to, but it didn’t stop his stomach from twisting whenever eijiro brought it up.
“y/n’s got a date tonight,” eijiro would say casually and katsuki would grunt, barely looking up from his phone.
“tch. poor bastard.”
he told himself he didn’t care. but then you’d come home late, and he’d be there waiting.
“the fuck took you so long?”
you’d laugh, shaking your head. “nice to see you too, katsuki.”
he hated how easy you made it look, waltzing in like you hadn’t been on some dumb date with some dumb guy who wasn’t him.
off limits.
but then you’d trip over your own feet and katsuki would be there, catching you before you could hit the ground. his hands tight on your waist, your eyes wide, too close, too warm.
his breath would hitch, his grip would linger, and eijiro’s voice would ring in his head—don’t even think about it, man.
but fuck, it was already too late.
part two
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© 2025 shinig6mis | do not plagiarize, repost, or translate any of my work.
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celtrist · 3 months ago
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He's learning, but Vaggie can get pretty creative with her traps.
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yueebby · 2 months ago
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𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧 (𝐢) – 𝐠𝐨𝐣𝐨 𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮
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contents. period piece, forbidden love, ooc, angst (eventual comfort), yandere emperor!gojo, lovesick!gojo, servant!reader, obsessive behavior, lowkey unreliable narrator, time skips, 7.2k words of gojo unable to process his feelings
notes. sorry for leaving everyone hanging after the prologue (make sure to read or reread since it's been a hot minute!) TT but here it finally is!!!...not proofread soz :x
series masterlist | chapter 1/2
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You haunt his dreams, he’s sure. Gojo never believed in superstitions or the supernatural despite what all those old geezers preached. That was until your figure started to appear every time he closed his eyes.
The familiar scene of you gets cloudier every time it appears in his dreams, but he knows it is still you. It’s nearly comical how even his subconscious knew of your everlasting beauty. Everytime, the same sequence replays: a grand celebration he had hosted in the palace in honor of a prosperous year of his reign. The two of you were overlooking the guests, seated at the head of the room.
You’re wearing court attire that was altered to fit solely you (it hugged your body in such ways that made Gojo’s head spin), fabrics and dyes all originating from foreign lands. In your hair sits beautiful hair ornaments, swinging with every movement you make.
However, Gojo knows it is not the materialistic items that make you beautiful, no, he knows that it was simply you.
“Has anyone told you how unnerving your eyes are?” You quietly comment, eyes still trained on the party in front of you. Satoru cracks a slight smile, not ashamed in the slightest that he was caught ogling you.
“I thought you said you loved them?” He blinks at you, attempting to lean closer to show off his blue orbs. “You’re starting to hurt my feelings, beloved.”
You purse your lips, subtly leaning away before he can initiate improper conduct. He does not take your action well, snaking an arm around you to firmly cage you in his hold. Normally, you would welcome his advances but you’d rather not be publically humiliated in front of the entire Imperial Court and all of the influential clanheads of Japan.
“Please have mercy on me, Your Grace,” You whisper, eyes flitting across the room, making sure there were no eyes on you. Luckily, everyone was too absorbed with the luxurious goods Gojo had imported for the occasion. It was the anniversary of his coronation, after all.
He makes a noise of disapproval, “Can’t. Must let these people know that you’re mine.” Gojo closes the gap between you and sniffs your neck, softly moaning at your scent. He knows that if the geezers looked up from their silver spoons they would have a heart attack at his public display of affection. Not that he cares. His unorthodox ways may make them livid, but Gojo knows they won’t do anything. He was going to pave the way for the Golden Age of Japan— with you by his side.
“Your Grace!” You giggle at the ticklish sensation left by his warm breath. Any attempts of shying away from him are fruitless.
“Don’t run away,” His other hand firmly places itself on your clothed thigh, restricting your movements. All of this is hidden by the table that sits in front of the two of you.
You’re looking at him with those shiny eyes of yours, silently pleading with him. “Can’t this wait until tonight?”
He huffs, “I have suffered enough today without your presence. Ijichi kept begging me to finalize the preparations, but who am I to care? My flower was too busy having fun without me.” 
“You and your dramatics. I was only away to tend the gardens in the Consort’s Pavilion. Which, might I remind you, is fading by the moment because someone refuses for me to stay there.” You tut, picking up your chopsticks to eat the delectable fish placed in front of you. 
Gojo’s stare never falters as he watches you pick up a small piece, eyes shining as if he were watching a spectacle. “You know I can’t sleep without you.”
“And I, you.” You pop the piece inside of your mouth, chewing happily at the flavor that fills your tongue. “You know, I–” You began, but were cut off by the sudden seizing of your throat. 
The chopsticks in your hands clatter loudly with the porcelain they are dropped on. 
Gojo's breath hitched, his eyes wide and trembling with horror as he watched you struggle for air. "My love?” he choked out, his voice cracking under the weight of rising panic.
Your hands immediately travel to your neck to alleviate the sudden burning feeling that blossomed in it.
“[Name]!” He shouts, large hands quickly rising to cup your cheeks. In a desperate attempt, he squeezes your cheeks to get you to spit it out. 
"Poi–poison," Your voice was hoarse, your face losing its color by the second. Satoru was frozen with fear. “Don’t eat it…Satoru.” With those parting words, you lose consciousness.
“[Name]?” Satoru’s hoarse voice can’t stop repeating your name like a prayer, hands lightly tapping your cheek as if it was going to bring you back to life.
Gojo wanted to laugh. Even when you were dying, you worried about him. Not that it mattered. You weren’t going to die. He refused.
Sometime during your struggle the chatter had stopped, and all eyes were on you. Satoru looks up from you to bark orders to the guards he had placed around the room. They leave to summon the Imperial Physician while Gojo is left clinging onto your limp body, praying to the Heavens above that they will grant him one more miracle.
Back in his chambers, Gojo’s head pounds, but he’s not sure whether it was the speed he shot up from his bed or the dream itself. He feels hot, sweat running from his bare chest that heaves to bring oxygen to his quickly pumping heart. He’s nearly certain his chest is going to cave any second with the way it constricts with pain. It was like he was a geezer, he humors silently.
“Your Grace?” A delicate hand cups his cheek. 
He follows the direction of the hand, eyes slowly trailing up the feminine body it belonged to, barely covered as a result of the thin silk nightgown that highlighted her natural curves. “Are you alright? It was only a nightmare.” She cradles his face, moving slowly in his vulnerable state.
Satoru breathes heavily, eyes widening as they travel from her breasts to her face, beautifully illuminated by the sparse moonlight leaking from the window. Her dark hair falls past her shoulders, obscuring some of his access to her skin. His beautiful mistress. He’s sure that she is whispering sweet nothings into his ear, but the images of his memory keep replaying in his mind, occupying it from functioning properly. ”Himiko, how did you–”
“I heard you and I couldn’t bear it.” Her finger softly caressed his flushed cheek, trying her best to ignore the bewildered look on her lover’s face. 
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THE PRESENT —
The journey to the Inner Palace was a blur. After a long goodbye, a horse drawn carriage was sent to the front of Yaga’s estate the very next morning. Your mind was elsewhere the entire time, too busy mulling over your past and now damned future. 
That is why when the carriage comes to a complete stop in front of the servants’ quarters, you are startled to meet two awfully familiar faces.
The two are silent, eyes carefully watching you exit the carriage. The purple set of eyes steps forward first to take your bags from you. 
“Ah thank you Mister—“ Your voice trails off, eyes looking up from the dark robes in front of you only to be surprised with a familiar face. “L-Lord Geto?” 
His lips quirk up slightly upon recognition. “Welcome back, [Name].” Your heart throbs at his indifference from the last interaction you had. It is quickly concealed by the excitement in your voice when your eyes spot a comforting pair of eyes.
“And Kento?” You light up.
Suguru raises an eyebrow at your familiarity with the Imperial Chancellor. He knows he should be relieved that you held no malice towards himself and Nanami, knowing the struggle you were subjected to when banished. However, there was a foreboding feeling gnawing deep within his soul. Guilt? Fear? It was hard for Geto to put a finger on it.
Nanami simply nods in acknowledgment, but stays silent under Geto’s watchful gaze.
“[Name],” The black haired man starts. Your eyes return to his face. “I wanted to be the first to greet you here, but I suppose Lord Nanami must have had the same idea.” He chuckles lightly, but the mirth never makes it to his eyes. You don’t notice Lord Nanami stiffening up.
“To say I am flattered would be an understatement, Lord Geto.” You return the same sugarcoated pleasantries. 
Geto must have noticed your unease, reminding you, “Please, there is no need to keep your guard up around me. I don’t bite.” His voice has a teasing lilt. It does little to soothe you. 
“Can you blame me, Lord Geto?” Your eyes meet his purple ones that narrow at your allusion.
“I suppose not.” He hums. “Though I must tell you that the incident was out of my power. I must carry that burden everyday, so I implore you to forgive me, [Name].” He throws out your given name once again like you were familiar. 
When you don’t respond, he continues, “I know, it is easier said than done.”
“You don’t say.” You bite your tongue as soon as the words leave your mouth. He fails to acknowledge how your last interaction was your banishment, served just by the man in front of you.
A sigh escapes Geto’s lips. "As a gesture of my accountability, I place myself entirely at your disposal. Simply name a favor, and it shall be fulfilled." You can’t detect anything but sincerity in his words, leaving you speechless. “Of course, it had to be within my power, but I shall grant you one request in return for your forgiveness.”
“I—” You were too shocked to form a thought. “I don’t know what to say.”
Suguru’s eyes crinkle, "Our last encounter may not have been pleasant, but I still consider you a dear friend, after all.”
“I am flattered to say the least that you had decided to grant me such honor,” you gape.
Geto shakes his head softly, “You shouldn’t hold me to such high regard. I could hardly bear the weight of your disfavor.”
“You know I don’t harbor any ill feelings towards what happened,” you say softly. It wasn’t Suguru’s decision what happened that night.
“I wouldn’t be able to live with myself otherwise,” the black haired man in front of you pushes. You relent. Perhaps you should just bite your tongue and accept the opportunity presented. “Please. Just think about it.”
You watch in silence as Geto turns around to walk away. His sudden offer leaves your mind racing. A man of his caliber, second to none but the emperor himself, would be able to grant any of your desires. Perhaps you should ask to import Western literature, tales of great fantasy— or, you could think bigger and ask to move back with your clan. Though you highly doubt he will entertain the latter, considering your indentured servitude to the Inner Palace. 
Your racing thoughts are diverted when you hear someone clear their throat to capture your attention. You perk up when you realize that Lord Nanami was still here, and you have completely ignored his presence.
“I am just as surprised to see your immediate return to the palace.” Nanami adjusts the glasses on his face, sympathetic eyes never leaving you. You flush under his gaze. It was quite embarrassing knowing the entire palace probably had caught wind of your incident with the emperor.
A nervous chuckle escaped your lips. 
“It wasn’t my intention,” you mumble. “But I suppose if fate has decided, there is not much I can do.”
“You truly believe that it was fate that brought you here?” Nanami asks, the hold he had on your arm tightening enough to catch your attention but not enough to hurt. 
“I-” You begin, words failing to conjure. “I’m not sure.”  You had thought that your banishment was fate, but now that you had been brought back, it felt like you were simply at the mercy of something cruel.
Nanami watches your eyes staring wistfully at the blue sky above, his own flickering to each of your features. He wonders if you know that your expressions gave you away. It’s more endearing than anything, from the flutter of your eyelashes, the wrinkle of your nose, to the furrow of your eyebrows. Only a blind man would deny the fact that you were easy to fall in love with. However, it would make a foolish man to dare to pursue you.
 He’ll appreciate you and your charm from afar where his head may stay attached to his body.
The comfortable silence shared between the two of you is disrupted by a flock of handmaidens passing by. Nanami tenses his jaw when the voices become audible. 
“Is it really her?”
“It’s said that she tried to sneak into the Emperor’s chambers.”
“Is that Lord Nanami? My, we must warn him about that whore that tried to seduce the emperor!”
“Poor Lady Himiko.”
Anger swells in your chest. Though you’re not sure what tale had managed to escape the servants’ quarters, but you pray that they may never reach the emperor’s ears. It was simply profane to the beloved consort, an offense that you know Gojo would never forgive you for. You can deal with nasty gossip, having previous experience, but you doubt you can handle being beheaded for conspiring against the emperor and his consort.
“I’m afraid no matter how much time has passed, the palace rumors seem to never die.” Nanami sighs, exhaustion evident in his gravelly voice. “I advise you to brace yourself. Within these coming days, the fire will only get hotter.” He doesn’t bother elaborating on his words, choosing to lead you to your new chambers.
“Thank you for the advice Nanami,” you exhale. “However, I am sure I’ll be able to manage on my own. After all, I’ve been doing it for quite some time.” The moment the solemn words leave your mouth his eyes soften. You quickly look away, flustered.
“I know you can, [Name]. I suppose my anxieties are misplaced, forgive me.” You can feel his stare bore into the side of your face. He sighs, “it is a habit that comes natural to me.” He worries for you. The words go unsaid, but you are able to decipher his double meaning.
Your heart flutters at his kind implications, eyes too shy to meet him once more. Instead, you choose to fix your gaze on the doors to the servants’ quarters. The blonde man beside you takes the liberty to open the doors to your new room. 
At the sight in front of you, your heart lurches.
Before you stands a familiar head of white hair, standing tall with his back turned towards you. His head was tilted slightly, as if scrutinizing something unseen, before he slowly shook it. Then, with an unsettling calm, he turned to face you, his gaze heavy with unspoken intent.
“I’ll take her from here,” Gojo’s icy voice breaks the silence that had overtaken you and Nanami.
“Of course,” Nanami bows deeply. You turn to bid the man goodbye, but he leaves hurriedly without sparing you so much as a glance. You can’t help but furrow your eyebrows in confusion, eyes longingly watching your old friend walk away.
The moment the shoji doors close behind him, Gojo clears his throat.
“[Name],” he tests the waters, his movements deliberate as he takes a slow, tentative step toward you, the air between you thick with an unspoken tension.
“Your Majesty,” You respond shakily, retreating a step as your breath catches.
“Please,” Gojo mutters breathlessly, his voice trembling with unspoken desperation, his eyes pleading with an intensity that only deepens the pit in your stomach. He takes two deliberate strides forward, the gap between you vanishing as though drawn by an invisible force.
“No,” You shake your head, pain flashing across your face. You won’t let him waltz right into your life after carelessly tossing you away, not without consequence. It is to no surprise that words seem to go unheard to the man in front of you. His eyes glistened in the dim lighting, fixed intently on your face, tracing each feature with a quiet focus, as if he were trying to burn them into his memory.
The world seemed to stay still just for the two of you. But it only lasted for just a moment.
“I’m so sorry,” Gojo mutters, a strong hand flying to the back of your neck tugging you towards him for a searing kiss. The instant his lips crash against yours, he lets out a soft whimper, as though the very act consumes him. Despite the passage of time, your body responds instinctively, like it was always meant to be this way.
It felt like the only thing that mattered was the fact that he was right in front of you, your fast beating hearts making contact with the way he had your chest pressed to his. All while pushing you against his body, Gojo allows his hand to trail down your back, revisiting every valley that he had once memorized.
“Mph,” your traitorous hands find their way into his head of white hair. He smiles into the kiss upon hearing his name leave your mouth.
“Yes?” He leaves a wet kiss at the base of your throat, bending down to continue his frenzy.
“This isn’t right,” the words came out of your mouth in a whisper, as if you almost didn’t believe them yourself.
“You’re wrong.” He inhales deeply, attaching his mouth onto your collarbone, ”I was made solely for this.” A small whine leaves his mouth when you hesitantly try to push him off. He uses his innate strength to fight your attempts.
“May I ask something of you?”
A kiss was placed on your jawline. Another on the base of your throat.
“Anything,” he breathes.
“Do you..” Your voice falters. “Do you love her?” Like you loved me? 
The trail of kisses come to a complete stop. For a second you fear you may have overstepped. The emperor’s silence was palpable. The only sound that filled your ears was the harsh thuds of your own heart. 
“[Name]...” he slowly stands up to tower over you with his height. The distant look in his eyes forms a pit in your stomach.
“Answer me,” you whisper, the pit deepening.
“I am just a man,” he reasons. Your heart drops at his answer.
“You could not even take an oath of monogamy,” you spit. “You are nothing but a weak man.” 
His eyes shoot up from their trance frantically. You fear that the lust he had been tempted with had worn off, and now you were left with nothing but wrath.
“I understand that I was nothing but a spoil of war, but you could have done me one last favor by allowing me to leave on my own accord. You did not have to cast me away,” your vision starts to waver with the tears that puddle in your eyes. “If I knew your heart had yearned for another I would have left.”
The set of blue eyes that stare at you are no longer the lively shade that you had grown to love. They have been replaced by an uncertain stormy grey. It was almost laughable. A man, so big, who had the world in the palm of his hand looked so small.
A cruel part in you enjoyed seeing the turmoil in his eyes after the events that had transpired.
“Had I known the tribulations I put you through, perhaps I would have put a second thought before choosing you.” Gojo exhales, pinching in between his eyebrows. “But I must assure you that you weren’t the only one suffering.” And for a moment you think you see lightning strike in those stormy irises of his. 
Your eyes widen at his confession.
He lets out a deep sigh, “The head maid will be here any minute. I bid you farewell. I pray that with our next interaction, your heart learns to soften.”
Ever for dramatics, Gojo leaves before you can get the last word.
True to his word, the head maid soon comes to assign your duties. You’re not surprised at your new set of responsibilities: tending to the emperor’s garden, sweeping the floors to his chambers, and overseeing his meal preparations. 
It is nothing out of your skill set, and you’re more than willing to accept your predicament rather than being burned alive for offending the emperor on numerous accounts. You suppose even Gojo was kind enough to spare you from that cruel fate. It almost softens your heart enough to decide to forgive him of his transgressions. Almost.
Your thoughts are interrupted by a loud clang of a pot. When you turn your head towards the direction of the sound, you’re met with the head maid’s stern gaze. Her eyes narrowed on the wooden spoon you had been mixing in the broth. 
Ah. She wanted you to perform the mandatory poison test before serving the food to the emperor.
However, just as you bring the spoon to your lips, it is violently swatted from your hand, clattering to the floor. Your eyes sadly linger on the spilled broth before snapping to the culprit, your gaze filled with disbelief.
"There were strict orders to ensure that the task did not fall to you," the head maid, Ogami, declared sharply. The elderly woman, with silver hair neatly tied in a tight bun and skin etched with the marks of years spent in service, raised a wrinkled finger in your direction.
You blink, taken aback by her sudden reprimand, the sharpness in her gaze leaving you momentarily frozen. It didn’t make sense—there had been no mention of any such orders, no one had informed you of any changes. You open your mouth to speak, but the words catch in your throat, swallowed by the weight of her unyielding stare. 
How strange.
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Days pass by like a blur, your routine falling into place. When dawn arrives, you’re up to prepare the emperor’s garments for the day. Your mid-mornings grow even busier as the palace comes alive with activity. Whether mending torn hems or ensuring the ceremonial robes are free of imperfection, you move like a ghost through the corridors with hopes of going unnoticed. The emperor’s unusual antics, however, make it nearly impossible to slip by unnoticed. He seems to have a knack for drawing your attention. His antics often begin at ungodly hours, long before the sun graces the horizon, as he attempts to coax you into sharing the first meal of the day with him. You decline each time, yet his persistence never wavers, a boyish grin always accompanying his invitations. By the time the sun reaches its zenith, Gojo finally departs to attend to his imperial duties. It’s only then, in the quiet lull of his absence, that you find the chance to make real progress with your work.
“To say I am relieved because of your presence would be an understatement, [Name].” Nanami and you overlook the palace’s main courtyard. 
You smile, hands filled with silks that needed washing, “I could say the same.” The emperor’s outrageous requests were driving you mad. Your mind flashes to earlier that week when he had insisted on hand feeding you honey! You wonder how he survived without a personal servant before you took the position.
“His Majesty is as eccentric as ever, I assume.” Nanami’s eyes crinkle. 
You laugh, “You know him too well!”
“I didn’t have much choice,” he shakes his head, smile ghosting his lips. “We’ve known eachother since our youth.”
You perk up at the news, your curiosity piqued. The confusion must have been written all over your face, prompting Nanami to offer a quick clarification.
“It was brief, our time at the academy. But we were both under the instruction of Yaga,” he elaborates. Huh. What a small world, you think as Nanami paints an unexpected connection. 
“I am struggling to imagine you and him studying under the ever serious Yaga,” you giggle.
“I was in the year below him. It was Lord Geto and Shoko who were first hand witnesses to his nature.” Nanami tells you. 
You nearly dropped all of the emperor’s clothes, “Shoko?” The revelation that your own friend was acquainted with the emperor stopped you dead in your tracks. Had she known him personally all along? If so, she made no effort to reveal it. Instead, she appeared almost disgusted by him, though you had chalked it up to her disdain for the new ruling dynasty rather than a personal vendetta against the man himself.
“I am aware you were well acquainted with her in your time in the Outer Palace, no?” “Yes, but–” you pause, before eyes snapping back to Nanami. “How did you know?”
Nanami blinks, momentarily caught off guard. His eyes widen a fraction, and he opens his mouth as if to explain, but then falters, his words stumbling.
Before he can say anything, a soft, familiar voice drifts from behind you.
“[Name]!” A servant of Lady Himiko calls urgently, her voice laced with a sense of urgency. You turn to face her.
“Yes?”
“The emperor requests your presence in the ceremonial hall. He says it is of great importance and that you must make haste!” The girl exclaims, grabbing your only free arm and tugging you toward the hall.
You glance back at Nanami, your eyes silently promising him that this conversation is far from over. He gives a small nod, acknowledging your unspoken words as he bids you farewell.
“Ah, may I ask what the emperor requires of me?” you ask, trying to maintain some control over the situation.
“You’ll see,” she replies, her tone clipped. Without sparing you a glance, she pulls you forward with determination, clearly focused on her task.
Like a lamb heading toward slaughter, you find yourself helplessly being dragged through the grand doors of the ceremonial hall, your thoughts swirling with questions you can’t yet answer.
The expansive room was eerily empty, a stark contrast to its usual grandeur. The sunlight poured through the tall windows, casting long beams of light that danced across the polished floors, illuminating the intricate tapestries and the grand pillars that lined the hall. But your gaze soon shifted, focusing on the emperor’s seat at the very end of the room.
You had expected the usual scene: Gojo slouched in his throne-like chair, whiny and complaining about the mountain of paperwork he despised. But what greeted you instead was something far more unexpected.
A figure stood poised at the head of the room, commanding the space with an elegance that was undeniable. Anyone familiar with the court could recognize her signature choice of kimono—the rich plum silk embroidered with intricate gold patterns, delicate yet striking. Her hair, black as midnight and flowing like a river of silk, cascaded down her back in perfect waves, a stark contrast to her porcelain-like complexion.
It was Lady Himiko. Her beauty was legendary, whispered about among women across the nation, often compared to a living work of art. The rumors of her grace and poise weren’t exaggerated. Standing there, surrounded by her ladies-in-waiting, who remained perfectly still and attentive at her side.
Her eyes met yours, and for a brief moment, your breath was stolen. The stillness of the room was palpable, and you couldn’t help but wonder why she was here, in the emperor’s seat, with not a whisper of Gojo in sight.
“Ah, just the one I was looking for!” her eyes light up when she sees her servant return with you in her hand. The gleam in her eyes fill you with unease.
“Lady Himiko, it is an honor,” you bow.
“There’s no need for that! Please, stand.” She waves her slender fingers at you, or so it seems, but at her silent command, her ladies-in-waiting begin to move toward you.
You take a step back, instinctively using the emperor’s garments, still damp from your earlier washing, as a shield against their sudden movements. The soft rustling of fabric is almost deafening in the silence that follows.
Lady Himiko’s eyes narrow at the motion, her sharp gaze flicking to the garments you hold between you and her. A faint, almost imperceptible smile plays at the corners of her lips, but it does nothing to ease the tension thickening in the air.
“I understand the unspoken animosity between us,” she says, her voice smooth, but there's an edge to it that sets your nerves on edge. “I pray you will accept my humble apology.” She clasps her hands together, but her eyes remain calculating, never leaving yours.
Her words hang in the air, heavy with implication. “I had not expected the emperor to kindle such… passion for me so suddenly. It was neither of our intentions that fateful night we reunited after the days of our youth.” She shakes her head softly, laughing nervously. "How rude of me, I doubt you of all would want to hear about Satoru and I."
Your breath hitches, caught between surprise and a tightening knot of discomfort in your chest. The weight of her words presses down on you, and you struggle to maintain composure.
“I do apologize for bringing you here on such deceptive terms, but I had to get your attention somehow,” she continues. “As one who has been a former concubine, I wanted your counsel on how I should navigate this delicate matter.” If you didn’t know any better, you would say she was mocking you. But you knew Himiko wasn’t one you wanted to offend, so you bite your tongue.
Instead, you nod, steeling yourself against the discomfort crawling up your spine. “What is it that you need from me?” you ask, your voice betraying none of the wariness you feel.
Himiko’s ladies-in-waiting close in around you swiftly, subtly guiding your every step toward the emperor’s stand. The grand hall feels even larger as you’re led deeper into its heart, each step reverberating through the space.
At the end of the room stands Himiko, watching you approach with a distant gaze. The soft glow from the nearby windows catches on the polished surface of the wooden desk before her, where inkstones, brushes, and stacks of paper lie in disarray.
You pause, your gaze falling upon the desk, and that’s when you notice the manuscript she’s pointing to. Her perfectly filed nails trace the edges of the paper with deliberate slowness. Though you cannot read the characters from this distance, the emblems that adorn the papers are unmistakable. They belong to some of the most powerful clans in the empire, each one a mark of authority and influence.
As your eyes skim across the paper Himiko’s hand rests on, the characters seem to leap off the page in a rush of realization. It’s a proposal– one written by the notorious Zenin clan. You can almost feel the air grow heavy as you piece it together. The words speak of demands for more autonomy—an increase in their power, more control over the lands they already possess. And you know, instinctively, that if this were to pass, everything Gojo has fought for, everything he’s struggled to protect, would crumble into dust. His fight against the rigid clan-based hierarchy would be for naught.
For a moment, your mind reels. This is no mere conversation or request for guidance. This is a game of power, one where you’re being used as a pawn. Her eyes lock with yours, and the air between you thickens with unspoken understanding. She must’ve taken you for a mere tool to execute her own plans.
But you’re no fool, and that realization comes like a slap to the face. You straighten your posture, eyes hardening as the weight of the situation settles in.
“These seals...” Your voice falters as you stare at the emblems, your hand hovering over the manuscript as though touching it might implicate you further. The weight of the realization crashes down on you like a cold wave. You look up at Himiko, bewildered, your heart pounding in your chest. Meddling with state affairs, let alone tampering with the emperor’s documents was a crime punishable by death.
“Does the emperor know about this?” you demand, your voice trembling with a mix of fear and indignation. “This—this could be considered treason!”
“Careful with your words,” she says softly, her tone calm. “It is not treason when it is for the betterment of the empire.”
Your mouth opens as if to respond, but no sound escapes.
“The emperor has always held you in high regard,” Himiko says with a wistful sigh, her eyes narrowing on your figure. “I’ve no doubt he would find it impossible to refuse any command spoken by you.”
Her cryptic words linger in the air, their implications sinking into you. You’re left reeling, unsure of whether her remark is meant as flattery or a thinly veiled mockery of your banishment. 
She scoffs, her delicate façade cracking as her tone turns venomous. “The emperor may not know, but I see right through you. Seducing him to claim yourself as some spoil of war and twisting his mind to lead our nation to ruin—it’s sickening. Truly, a shame the assassination attempt failed.” Her words lash out like a whip, her civil mask shattering entirely.
You gasp, her implications cutting deep even as your heart hardens against the venom. Had she known–?
“Perhaps that is what the entire Court believes of me,” you manage, your voice trembling yet steady enough to carry your conviction. Months of whispered rumors and vicious gossip had thickened your skin, and you refused to crumble under her scrutiny. “But I will not allow you to sully the emperor’s reputation.”
As much as you detested Gojo, your disdain for the corrupt elders burned hotter. They had plotted your downfall, attempted to take your life, and now sought to undermine everything Gojo was fighting to build. You could not allow them to gain any more power in the Court  than they already held.
Himiko’s lips curl into a cold, triumphant smile as she picks up an inkstone and brush from the emperor’s desk. “As his Honored Consort and future Empress I command you to hold this for me while I pave the way for a greater future.” Her words are laced with mockery as she extends the inkstone toward you.
You recoil instinctively, shaking your head. “No. I refuse—” Your rejection is firm, your voice sharper than you expected, as you pull away, clutching the emperor’s garments protectively against your chest. 
The next few moments unravel in slow motion, as though fate itself had decided to humiliate you. Himiko’s gasp pierces the air as your sudden movement causes the inkstone to slip, spilling its dark, viscous contents over her elaborate kimono. The silk, undoubtedly crafted from the finest threads in Japan, drinks in the stain, the deep black spreading like a wound across the fabric.
“My lady!” Her servants rush to her side, their collective cries of alarm startle you. They push you aside as they fuss over her, their movements frantic as they attempt to salvage her now-ruined garment.
You stumble back, staring in disbelief at the disaster you’d unwittingly caused. “I—I am truly sorry—” you begin, but your words falter under the weight of the situation.
“What is going on here?”
The booming voice echoes through the hall like thunder, freezing everyone in place. You whip your head toward the source, your pulse quickening as your eyes land on the figure now standing in the doorway. The emperor himself, Gojo, commands the room with his presence, his expression a mixture of confusion and rising fury as he takes in the scene before him. By his side stands the owner of the voice, an elder, with an expression carved with barely restrained anger piercing through you.
Himiko lets out a sharp cry, her voice trembling with a convincing mix of distress and indignation. Gojo reacts instantly, rushing by her side, his features hardening with concern.
“I found her forging His Majesty’s signature,” Himiko exclaims, her voice wavering just enough to sound genuine. “When I tried to intervene, she lashed out and attacked me.” She trembles as she buries her head against the emperor’s chest.
It hits you—the full realization of her calculated scheme. This was her plan all along.
“I-I didn’t!” you stammer, your voice raw with desperation. “That wasn’t what happened at all– she was the one tampering with imperial documents. I tried to stop her!”
Gojo’s piercing blue eyes snap to yours, cutting off your explanation. His gaze, once warm and teasing, now burns with unrestrained fury. The bile rises in your throat as you see it. Anger, disdain, and worst of all, disbelief.
“Himiko,” he murmurs, his arms tightening protectively around her trembling form. Her soft sniffling only adds to the spectacle.
“To be caught tampering with imperial records is one thing,” Gojo finally says, his voice icy and cutting, “but to stoop so low as to accuse Lady Himiko? Was this an act out of jealousy? Spite? How pathetic. This is beneath even you, [Name].”
You feel your knees weaken, the tears you’ve fought to hold back beginning to pool in your eyes. “Please, you have to believe me,” you whisper, your voice cracking under the weight of his words.
His expression darkens further, the light in his sky-blue eyes replaced by thunderclouds. “Why would I believe you?” he sneers, his tone laced with contempt.
A single tear escapes down your cheek, followed by another, and then another, until you can no longer stop them. The dam of your resolve breaks, shattered by his cruel dismissal.
“Why?” Your voice trembles, breaking as the tears come freely now. “Why don’t you believe me?”
Gojo’s lips curl into a bitter smile. “Don’t make me laugh,” he says coldly. “How could I ever believe in one as base as you?”
His words cut deeper than any blade, piercing through the walls you’d built to protect yourself. You’d convinced yourself you were immune to his indifference, but the searing pain in your chest proves otherwise.
“Leave,” he commands, his voice sharp and final. “Do not look back. Your very presence stirs nothing but disdain within me.”
You stagger back, his words striking harder than any physical blow. He might as well have drawn his sword and ended it here. The infamous tales you had heard about Gojo were once glorious images that were painted of your beloved. You had never thought you would be on the other end of his blade. 
Without a word, you turn and run, your vision blurred with tears. The emperor’s garments slip from your hands, forgotten in your haste to escape the suffocating anguish. You don’t look back, even as the echoes of his disgust chase you out of the hall.
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If there was one undeniable truth that Geto Suguru knew, it was that his best friend, Gojo Satoru could be an utter fool. Perhaps it was the inevitable result of a youth stolen too soon, replaced by the crushing weight of an empire resting on his shoulders. The brilliance that made Gojo a formidable emperor rendered him hopelessly inept when it came to navigating the labyrinth of his own emotions.
And as his closest confidant, bound by loyalty and friendship, Geto Suguru couldn’t help but feel the urge to shake some sense into him—to force him to confront what he stubbornly refused to see.
That is why, when your trembling form hurries across the courtyard, tears streaming down your face, Geto Suguru can’t help but halt you in your steps. 
“I’m leaving.” you declare, your voice raw, your eyes red and swollen. The words, so resolute despite your trembling tone, catch him off guard.
“What?” he asks, his brows knitting together in confusion.
“My favor,” you say firmly, though your voice wavers. “I want to leave this place.”
For a moment, Geto says nothing, his sharp mind scrambling to process the abruptness of your request. Then he shakes his head, his expression softening. “You know I can’t do that.”
Your incredulous gaze snaps up to meet him. “So you lied to me?”
“No, not at all,” he says quickly, holding up his hands. “I meant—I can grant you time off. But as someone under the emperor’s direct supervision, I can’t allow you to leave permanently. What I can do is give you one lunar cycle away from court.”
You hesitate, weighing his offer before giving a sharp nod. “I’ll take it. Just let me leave,” you reply, sniffling.
Geto watches you for a moment longer, his chest tightening at the sight of your despair. “I’ll make the arrangements right away,” he says gently. “I’m sorry we seem to meet only under such terrible circumstances.”
“I’m sorry too,” you murmur, your tone hollow.
He hesitates, searching for the right words to offer some semblance of comfort. “Whatever he did, I’m sure—”
“I don’t care,” you cut him off, your voice colder now. “He made his disgust for me perfectly clear.” You march past him, your steps resolute despite the trembling in your shoulders. “Thank you for understanding, though I must beg you to keep this between us. Who knows what might happen to either of us if he finds out.”
Geto exhales slowly, his composure steady but his mind racing. Just what, exactly, had his best friend done this time? Gojo’s antics always seemed to leave Geto cleaning up the aftermath, but this—this was something else entirely.
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Just as he promised, there is a carriage waiting for you outside of the servants’ quarters. With heavy bags in hand and an even heavier heart, you make your way toward it, each step weighted with reluctant resolve. The irony of the moment doesn’t escape you, a sense of déjà vu washing over you, as though life had played this scene out countless times before.
You turn sharply, your bleary eyes meeting the calm, hazel gaze of someone you hadn’t expected to see.
“Nanami?” you breathe, disbelief coloring your tone.
He inclines his head in a polite nod. “Forgive the intrusion, but I insist on accompanying you,” he says, his voice as composed as ever. “The roads beyond the palace can be dangerous, especially for someone traveling alone.”
For a moment, you simply stare, caught between gratitude and confusion. The warmth in your chest battles against the ache that lingers from your earlier ordeal. “And what of the emperor?” you ask, forcing a faint smile. “Would he not throw a fit in your absence?”
Nanami lets out a quiet, mirthless laugh, the sound more bitter than amused. “Perhaps,” he admits, adjusting the luggage in his hands with ease. “But he was never one to share, was he?”
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solelifauna · 1 month ago
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With Bared Teeth & Prayers (Yandere Batfam X Neglected Reader) (Dark!!! Werewolf AU) (PT. 2)
Hi guys, I’m alive. I’ve just been sick and then found out that my dog’s cancer spread and the surgery costs $3,000 which is insane. Anyways, I’ve been working irl so I completely forgot about this account. Sorry pookies🤕🙏.
If anyone wants to know I’m still taking commissions, and if my price doesn’t work for you I’m sure I can lower it!! Honestly, I’ll write for whatever price I’m lowkey desperate.😭🙏
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The next morning, you wake up in panic, shit, you slept in. You rush out the manor forgoing breakfast, almost eating shit on the sidewalk in your rush. You hop onto your bike, pedaling as if death itself was chasing you, huffing and puffing. Thankfully you make it to school on time, if only just on time.
You fall into your seat just as the bell rings, letting the top half of your body crumple over the desk.
“Looks like somebody had a rough morning.” The familiar voice of one of your best friends.
“Fuck off Quinn.” You huff out tiredly.
“Fine, then I guess this extra black coffee I got at Gloria’s is going to waste then.” She said teasingly.
How is it that she always has impeccable intuition about these things?
You groaned sitting up, giving Quinn a tired look.
“Yikes, I was gonna make another smartass joke but you look like you’re about to keel over.” She said worriedly, handing over the extra coffee.
“Ha ha, yeah I feel like I'm about to keel over. Thanks for the coffee by the way.” You said dryly.
“Don’t sweat it girl, but–uh, what the hell happened.”
“Too much dude, too much. It's so much bullshit I don't even know where to start.”
“Im guessing its about–”
“Ding, ding, ding, you got it.”
“Shit…how bad? They’re not gonna… you know…” Quinn stutters off.
“Kill me? Eat me?” 
She nodded.
You massage your forehead, a headache forming between your eyebrows. “I'll be so for real right now, I don't even know.”
“Damn, I don't even know what to say to that.” Quinn grimaces.
“It’d be weird if you did.” You joked giving her a sardonic smile.“Well if they’re gonna kill me, I hope they do it before finals.”
“You’ve got issues (Y/n).”
“I’m aware.”
Just then the chatter in the class started to pipe down as your history teacher, Mr. Lechliter, made his way into the room. However, something wasn’t right; his usually neat hair was in disarray and you could smell that he was profusely sweating. He was nervous, which was completely out of character. Sure Mr. Lechliter was awkward at times but he was normally confident and loud around the class, something was going on. 
“Good morning, class,” Mr. Lechliter began, but his voice was shaky, not at all the usual booming tone he used to command the room. “I-uh, hope you’re all ready to jump into… um, well, history.” He swallowed hard, glancing around as if searching for something—or someone—outside the door.
You look at Quinn with a raised eyebrow. What the hell is happening right now?
“We, um, actually have two guests who’ll be auditing a couple of classes today so we all want you guys on your best behavior. For our sakes and yours.” He said fidgeting with his paperweight globe, however, it was what he whispered under his breath that had you worried. What the fuck did he mean by that?!
“These guest speakers are one of the school's top sponsors so I truly cannot express the need we have for you all to behave and be on task, understand?” Mr. Lechliter spoke gravely.
The class let out a scattered “Yes” whilst others nodded. Now it was the class's turn to start getting nervous, the energy in the room now becoming quite grim. Seeing the class’s cooperation, Mr. Lechliter let out a shaky smile and nodded back at the class in approval. You sipped your coffee nervously in tandem.
“Good. Now, without further adieu, please welcome the esteemed Bruce Wayne and his son, CEO of Wayne Enterprises, Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne.”
And in walked your worst nightmare as you choked on your coffee. A hesitant applause began as a couple of heads turned your way, including the scrutinizing eyes of Bruce Wayne and Tim Drake.
“Jesus Christ (Y/n), are you good?” Quinn whispered, patting your back.
“Does it look like I'm good, Quinn?” You whisper-yell back.
“Sorry, dumb question.”
“I legitimately can't do this right now.” You groan out quietly.
Tim’s sharp, calculating gaze landed on you, and for a split second, his lips twitched upward in what looked disturbingly close to satisfaction. Bruce, however, kept his gaze steady, stoic, making his way to the front of the class like he owned every square inch of the room—and maybe, in a way, he did.
Bruce stepped forward, greeting Mr. Lechliter with a firm handshake before addressing the class. “Good morning,” he said, his voice carrying a smooth authority. “It’s always a pleasure to see the next generation of Gotham’s finest minds, and today, we’re here to discuss some unique opportunities with Wayne Enterprises—partnerships, scholarships, and mentorship programs that may be of interest to you in your future studies.”
Meanwhile, Tim’s gaze remained fixed on you, a silent warning lingering behind his polite smile. You swallowed hard, avoiding eye contact, hoping that blending in might somehow make you invisible. But Tim had no intention of letting you off the hook. He leaned slightly closer to Bruce, murmuring something that made Bruce’s eyes flicker in your direction, his expression unreadable.
Quinn leaned over, her voice barely a whisper. “(Y/n), what the hell is going on? They keep looking at you.”
“Trust me, I wish I knew,” you muttered back, managing to take a sip of coffee without choking this time. “They’re just here to make my life a living nightmare, apparently.”
As Bruce and Tim began their presentation, outlining all the “wonderful opportunities” that a connection to Wayne Enterprises could bring, you couldn’t help but feel trapped. Every line, every subtle glance, seemed like a reminder that escape from their influence was impossible. They were inescapable, even here, in the one place you thought you could breathe.
When they finally wrapped up their presentation, Bruce offered to answer questions, his gaze settling on you for the briefest moment, as if daring you to speak up. You just nervously looked away, its fine, they’ve said their piece and will be leaving soon.
But of course life doesn't ever go the way that you want.
The relief that had started to settle in evaporated as Bruce and Tim made no move to leave. Instead, they took seats at the back of the classroom, settling in with that same poised, assessing presence that dominated every room they entered. Bruce folded his hands in his lap, his gaze steady and inscrutable, while Tim casually crossed his arms, his eyes tracking every student’s reaction, but always coming back to you.
You swallowed hard, glancing at Quinn, who was now just as unsettled as you were. “Are they… staying?” she whispered, her brows knitting together in worry.
“Looks like it,” you muttered, barely moving your lips.
Mr. Lechliter, visibly tense under the weight of their scrutiny, resumed his lesson with all the grace of a man on the edge of a breakdown. Every time he stumbled over his words or glanced nervously at Bruce, the room felt as if it held its breath.
“This, um, particular era in history…” Mr. Lechliter began, stammering slightly as he struggled to keep his usual confident tone. “It’s a time when alliances shifted often, and there was…constant jockeying for power…”
Bruce and Tim watched, expressions neutral, but you knew better than to believe their act. They weren’t here for any genuine interest in educational standards; they were here as a reminder, a warning that the Wayne influence extended beyond the manor walls.
You focused on your notebook, pen tapping anxiously against the paper as you tried to tune them out and take frantic notes. But it was impossible to ignore the cold prickle at the back of your neck. Every glance felt like a needle, each second stretching longer than the last.
Mr. Lechliter’s lecture painstakingly continued on for another thirty minutes before class started coming to an end.
The bell finally rang as you shot up out of your seat and practically sprinted out the door. You head to your locker, feeling the many starters of students and teachers bore into you. Another thing was that everyone kinda knew that the Wayne’s didn't like you, it was very obvious. Which meant the media had a field day, letting the entirety of Gotham know how much the famous pack hated you. So now your business was also aired out to the entire world to know. Wonderful, am I right?
You shove your unneeded books into your (tbh, very cutely) decorated locker, while grabbing the science textbook you needed for your next class, AP Biology. This class was the absolute bane of your existence. Not only was the content hard, the teacher was also absolutely nuts. You walk over to your Bio class, clutching your books like a lifeline. “Please, dont be here too.” You pray to yourself. Thankfully, this class was normal, well, as normal as it could get. The other two classes you have before lunch ended the same way, Wayneless. 
As your fourth class comes to an end your stomach starts to growl. You’d be embarrassed, but everyone else in your class was in a similar starved state. When the lunch bell goes off, you’re excitedly grabbing your things and making your way down. Fucking finally it was lunchtime. You made your way to the quickly growing lunchline
Your friends were already sitting at your usual table as you made your way over and slammed your lunch tray on the table.
“Im gonna kill myself.”
“I can't even say anything about that.” One of your other friends Daniel says.
You groaned holding your head in your hands, your headache becoming more prevalent as you turn to look at him.
“Man all I did was ask to leave, and now this shit? I can't even right now.”
“You finally asked to leave, huh? I'm guessing it didn't go well.” Daniel asks.
“Nope, but when does anything ever go right in my life.”
Just as you finish talking, the noisy cafeteria falls abruptly silent. The usual clatter of trays and chatter of students fades, replaced by an almost eerie quiet. You and your friends exchange confused glances before turning to see what—or who—could possibly have silenced a room full of teenagers. But in the pit of your stomach, you already have an idea.
Sure enough, walking through the entrance are Bruce Wayne and Tim Drake-Wayne, looking completely out of place in their immaculate suits and composed expressions. Their powerful, calculating gazes sweep across the crowd, searching for someone, before both of their eyes zero in on you and your table. Instinctively, you tense up, your shoulders hunching as if to make yourself smaller, and you feel the flush of embarrassment heat your cheeks under their scrutiny.
Their focused stares make you flinch, and you quickly look away, facing your friends once more. “See what I mean?” you mutter under your breath, trying to keep your voice steady. “It’s like the universe is out to get me.”
Daniel raises an eyebrow, glancing between you and the Waynes, a flicker of worry passing over his face. "What are they doing here? This isn’t normal, right?”
“No, it’s definitely not,” you reply, trying to keep your tone casual even as your heart races. “They’re here to make a point.”
You further slump into the table, arms cradling your head as the cafeteria slowly starts to go back to its normal noise level. Both Tim and Bruce take a seat at a table opposite to where you’re sitting, which gives them a perfect view of your table. Great.
“Guys talk to me. Anything–talk about anything please.” You beg quietly.
Quinn leans in, glancing nervously at the Waynes across the cafeteria. “Uh, did you hear about Chief Keef performing soon? Apparently, he’ll be in Gotham.”
Daniel nods, catching on to your plea for distraction. “Yeah, yeah, I heard he's gonna bring another artist on stage. Mauve Travis or something if we’re lucky?.”
You smile weakly, grateful for the distraction, even if your heart’s still pounding. You try to focus on what they’re saying, but you can feel Tim’s gaze on you like a laser, scrutinizing, watching every movement. You pretend not to notice, grabbing a fry from your tray and nodding along to whatever Daniel and Quinn are saying, forcing yourself to join in with a half-hearted laugh here and there.
Quinn suddenly brings up a story from her last weekend, trying her best to lighten the mood. “Okay, get this—I tried to impress this guy by pretending to know how to skate, but instead, I ended up flat on my face in front of, like, everyone. Mortifying, but he did buy me a smoothie as a consolation prize.”
You chuckle, letting the story pull you out of your anxious thoughts. “I mean, sounds like it kind of worked. You got a free smoothie, right?”
Quinn laughs, rolling her eyes. “Only because he felt bad, but hey, I’ll take pity smoothies.”
The laughter at your table grows, the lighthearted moment almost making you forget the ominous presence of Bruce and Tim nearby. But just as you’re starting to relax, you catch a glimpse of Tim’s amused smirk from the corner of your eye. His eyes don’t leave you, as if he knows exactly how unsettling his presence is and he’s reveling in it.
“I think he liked you,” Daniel teases Quinn, keeping the conversation going to help ease your nerves.
“Liked my bruised ego, maybe,” she snorts. “Anyway, what about you, (Y/n)? Got any secret admirers?”
You shake your head, grateful they’re keeping the focus off your current predicament. “Nope, unless you count the cadaver frog I accidentally dropped on my lab partner. He, uh-didn’t look at me the same after that.”
Your friends burst out laughing, and for a brief, blessed moment, you almost feel normal again. But when you glance back, Bruce’s eyes are still on you, cool and unyielding.
“Here’s to hoping they’re gone after lunch,” Daniel mutters, catching your uneasy glance.
“What good has hoping ever done me?” You sigh, picking at your food.
The tension in the cafeteria never fully fades. Despite the attempts from Quinn and Daniel to keep the conversation going, the presence of Bruce and Tim just continues to overwhelm you. Every so often, your eyes flit toward them, only to find them still seated, still watching, and their expressions betraying nothing of their true intent. It feels like they’re waiting for you to make a move, to react in some way that would justify their unsettling attention.
Lunch drags on in this uncomfortable limbo until, at last, the bell rings, signaling the end of the break. Your friends gather their things, offering small words of encouragement or supportive smiles, though they too look wary of the Waynes’ lingering presence.
“I’ll see you both in Chem. Hopefully Mr. Domzalski isn't still in a bad mood from what happened yesterday.” You say.
“You mean from when you and Daniel set fire to one of his textbooks?” Quinn questions sardonically.
You and Daniel offer her a sheepish, guilty smile. 
“Hey–it was an accident!” he exclaims, feigning offense.
“Yeah, what he said! We followed all the instructions to a T!” You defend as well.
“Sure, whatever you both say. I'm just surprised he didn't automatically fail you two.” Quinn says fondly.
“It’s ‘cause we’re somehow his favorites? Don't ask me how or why though.” You respond.
As you and Daniel chuckle, the lightheartedness helps lift some of the weight that had been hanging over your head. The relief is short-lived, though, as you feel a prickle on the back of your neck—a feeling that’s become all too familiar lately.
You glance back to see Bruce and Tim still watching, and for a moment, something in Bruce’s gaze changes. You can’t quite read it, but it feels sharper, like he’s calculating, considering something he hasn’t said. You swallow, gripping your bag tighter as your friends move to head toward class, unaware of the silent tension hanging around you like a cloud.
You head to your APA Algebra II class alone, without the usual buffer of Daniel or Quinn’s lighthearted banter to ease the tension. The classroom is quiet, a different atmosphere from the lively lunch period, and you’re able to slip into your seat undisturbed, hoping that the math problems ahead will give you a welcome distraction.
As the class moves on, you find yourself lost in equations, the numbers and formulas acting as a temporary refuge from everything else. You keep your head down, concentrating on the work, grateful for the momentary peace that academics bring.
When the bell rings, signaling the end of Math, you gather your things and head to APA Chemistry, where you’d finally reunite with Daniel and Quinn. When you arrive in APA Chemistry, the atmosphere is surprisingly relaxed. Mr. Domzalski hasn’t arrived yet, so everyone’s just hanging out, chatting about weekend plans, or joking around. You plop down next to Daniel, who’s already doodling on his notebook, and give Quinn a tired smile. It’s nice to have a few minutes to unwind before the usual controlled chaos of Mr. Domzalski’s class kicks in.
Then, the door swings open, and you freeze as Mr. Domzalski steps in with Tim Drake following close behind. Your stomach twists, and you have to swallow down a groan. Thankfully, Bruce is nowhere to be seen. Small blessings, you suppose; better not to question it too much. You look at your friends, trying to convey your annoyance with a single tired look as Mr. Domzalski beams with a sort of overdone excitement that sets you on edge.
“Everyone, I’d like you to welcome a special guest,” he says, practically brimming with enthusiasm. “Tim Drake-Wayne, CEO of Wayne Enterprises, is here to observe our class today.”
You sink lower in your chair, stifling a grumble. Great, just great. This whole thing was growing stale fast. You try to ignore the interested murmurs spreading through the class as everyone stares at Tim, who stands there with that same polite, professional smile he’s been flashing all day. You avoid eye contact, focusing instead on the edge of your desk as Mr. Domzalski continues.
“Now,” Mr. Domzalski goes on, shifting his focus to the lab materials, “before we dive into today’s lesson, let’s review what went wrong in yesterday’s lab.”
He shoots a pointed look in your direction, his smile still in place, but there’s a glint in his eyes that tells you he’s not exactly thrilled. “For those who might need a reminder,” he continues, not-so-subtly side-eyeing you and Daniel, “improper handling of materials led to one of my textbooks, which I cherish dearly, being set on fire.”
The class erupts into quiet snickers, and Daniel coughs into his hand, trying to disguise his laughter. You roll your eyes, but a smirk tugs at the corner of your mouth. Even Tim’s eyes change a bit, as if interested.
Mr. Domzalski clears his throat, regaining the class’s attention. “Let’s aim for a little more caution today, shall we?”
The lab for the day was going to be more complex than usual. Mr. Domzalski, with a edge of nervousness in his tone, began rattling off the new, more complicated instructions. His gaze flicked to you and Daniel more than once, lingering just long enough to make his message clear: Please don’t mess up.
You slouched slightly in your seat, already feeling the weight of the unspoken pressure. It wasn’t lost on you how much was riding on this lab going smoothly—not just for your grade, but for Mr. Domzalski himself. With Tim Drake-Wayne, CEO of Wayne Enterprises and a member of one of Gotham’s most powerful packs, observing, any mishap could very well put your teacher’s job on the line.
Next to you, Daniel caught your eye, his lips twitching into a wry smirk. He leaned in, whispering, “Feel like we’re walking on eggshells today, huh?”
“More like a minefield,” you muttered back, eyeing the lab equipment warily. The setup looked far more intricate than usual—beakers and flasks stacked alongside pipettes, Bunsen burners, and an array of unfamiliar chemicals. It was a recipe for disaster, and you had no intention of being the one to set it off.
Tim, seated at the back of the room, watched the proceedings with his usual cool detachment. His presence was like a weight pressing down on the room, amplifying every minor sound and movement. You could practically feel his gaze on you, even when you weren’t looking his way.
“Alright, everyone,” Mr. Domzalski said, clapping his hands to gather the class’s attention. “Remember to follow the instructions precisely as they’re written. This is a delicate experiment, and precision is key. Any deviation could—well, let’s just say we don’t want any surprises today.”
The pointed glance he sent your way at the word “surprises” made you cringe internally. You shot Daniel a look. He seemed to get the message, giving you a small nod before turning his focus to the materials in front of him.
With a deep breath, you adjusted your goggles and got to work, determined not to give anyone—especially Tim—a reason to criticize.
The lab was rough from the very start. No matter how tightly you adjusted your goggles, they kept fogging up, obscuring your vision at the worst possible moments. You constantly had to pause to wipe them off, and each time, you felt Tim's Gaze flicker towards you. Daniel, meanwhile, was no better. He almost tipped over a vial of some unpronounceable chemical twice, and each time, you barely managed to steady it before disaster struck.
“Bro you have to lock in.” you said under your breath.
“I'm trying–fuck. My hands are too shaky.” Daniel whispered back, nervous as he tried held out his hands for you to see. He carefully set the vial down, only for his elbow to nudge another piece of equipment. You caught it just in time, your heart leaping into your throat.
The instructions seemed to come at lightning speed, Mr. Domzalski rattling off steps faster than you could write them down. Each new instruction layered on top of the last until your head was spinning with measurements, temperatures, and reaction times. You were doing your best to keep up—you think you were doing it right—but the constant noise and movement around you made it feel like everything was closing in.
You glanced at the flask on your workstation, bubbling faintly as it was supposed to, and double-checked the temperature. It seemed fine. Probably fine. Hopefully fine. But the nagging thought that you might’ve missed a step wouldn’t go away.
Behind you, Tim’s silent observation was like a shadow, adding another layer of stress to the already chaotic atmosphere. Every time you caught sight of him out of the corner of your eye, you swore his expression was unreadable, yet somehow judgmental.
“I think this is right,” you muttered, glancing at the next step in the instructions and adjusting your setup.
“‘Think’ isn’t reassuring, (Y/n),” Daniel replied, he was nervous. “Don’t blow us up, okay?”
“Not funny,” you snapped, though your lips twitched in a half-smile despite the stress. “Just keep stirring before we mess up the timing.”
The rest of the lab dragged on in a haze of nervous energy and frantic adjustments. Your hands trembled slightly as you measured out the final chemical, careful not to let even a drop spill. When you finally completed the experiment, the mixture in the beaker turned the correct pale blue color, and you let out a shaky breath of relief.
“See?” Daniel said, flashing you a grin. “We nailed it.”
You gave him a tired look. “Barely.”
As Mr. Domzalski approached to check your work, you held your breath, praying there wasn’t some detail you’d overlooked. When he gave a curt nod of approval, you finally relaxed, though your nerves still felt frayed. Even then, you could feel Tim’s eyes on you, as if silently appraising every moment of your struggle.
The lab was over, but the stress lingered like a heavy weight on your shoulders. You packed up your materials with shaky hands, grateful to escape the pressure of both the experiment and the unrelenting scrutiny.
As the class wrapped up, Mr. Domzalski passed by your station, his sharp eyes flicking over the completed experiment. The pale blue liquid in the beaker must have been just right because, instead of his usual critical remarks, he gave a subtle nod and a quiet, “Good work.” The words weren’t overly enthusiastic, but coming from him—and especially with Tim Drake watching—it was as close to praise as you could get.
You felt a weight lift off your shoulders, and you let out a long sigh of relief. You and Daniel exchanged a look, his triumphant grin mirrored by the faintest smile you allowed yourself. You’d passed. Somehow, despite the foggy goggles, Daniel’s near-disasters, and the relentless pressure, you’d made it through the lab unscathed.
As you finished cleaning up, Mr. Domzalski gave you a brief, silent glance of thanks. It wasn’t much, but you knew what it meant: he was grateful you hadn’t turned today’s experiment into another headline-worthy incident. You nodded subtly back, grateful that the ordeal was over.
With the last of your equipment put away, you grabbed your bag and escaped the lab as quickly as possible, the weight of Tim’s lingering gaze finally lifting as you stepped into the hallway. Quinn was waiting by the door, chatting with Daniel, who was still buzzing with post-lab adrenaline.
“Well, looks like you didn’t burn down the school,” Quinn teased, grinning as she fell into step with you.
“Yeah, yeah,” you muttered, rolling your eyes but smiling despite yourself. “We’re still alive, so I guess that’s a win.”
“Hey give us more credit.” Daniel chimed in, earning a laugh from both you and Quinn.
As the three of you headed for the stairs, you said goodbye to Daniel, who was heading to a different class. “See you later, guys.” he said, waving as he turned down another hallway.
You and Quinn made your way toward the gym for your seventh period, the final class of the day. The familiar chatter and clang of lockers greeted you as you stepped into the changing area. Gym wasn’t exactly your favorite class, but after the stress of the lab, it was almost a relief to have something physical to focus on instead of the constant mental strain.
“Think they’ll leave you alone for the day?” Quinn asked as you pulled on your gym shoes.
“I hope so,” you replied, your voice weary. “I can’t handle any more of this. It’s like they can’t even wait to-to…you know.”
Quinn grimaces. “Yeah, I know.” But she smiles back at you, as if tying to make you perk up. “Well, at least we’re doing dodgeball today, you should blow off some steam.”
You huff, amused. “Mm, maybe nailing Farah in the head with a dodgeball would do me some good.”
“Straight on bitch, that girl needs to be humbled.” Quinn says.
You chuckled, shaking your head. “At this point, I’ll take any excuse to hit something.”
The two of you stepped into the gym, the sound of sneakers squeaking on polished floors and the buzz of students warming up filling the air. It wasn’t the easiest day, but at least the end was finally in sight.
The day finally winds down as you head to the locker rooms to change. The smell of sweat and disinfectant fills the air as you and the other students shuffle to your lockers, exchanging the occasional half-hearted quip about how much of a drill sergeant Coach Walker was today. You change quickly, eager to escape the lingering humidity of the gym, and sling your bag over your shoulder just as the dismissal bell rings.
Joining the tide of students heading toward the front exit, you fall into step with Quinn, chatting idly about homework and plans for the weekend. The sprawling line of cars in the pick-up area is already forming, parents eager to whisk their kids away from the chaos of the school day.
Daniel spots you both as he weaves through the crowd toward his mom’s car, parked conveniently near the front of the line. “Guess that’s my ride,” he calls, swatting your shoulder playfully. “Try not to miss me too much tomorrow, I've got a doc's appointment.”
You laugh, shaking your head. “Yeah, yeah, you wish asshole.”
“Later!” he shouts, hopping into the passenger seat of his mom’s car as it pulls away. You and Quinn wave after him before continuing toward the pick-up zone.
“Alfred here today?” Quinn asks, glancing around at the cars idling nearby.
“Probably not,” you reply with a shrug. “Haven’t heard from him, so it’s probably just me and the bike today.”
Quinn nods, her attention already shifting to a car pulling up in the distance. “Looks like my dad’s almost here.”
You glance toward the pickup area and spot the familiar vehicle inching closer. “Cool. Guess I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”
“Yep. Don’t get mugged on the way home,” she jokes, smirking as she adjusts her backpack.
“Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence,” you reply with a laugh. With a quick goodbye, you head toward the bike rack to unlock your trusty two-wheeler.
The quietness of the parking lot is a stark contrast to the noisy chaos of the day. You crouch down, fiddling with the combination lock on your bike, when a hulking shadow falls over you. The sudden shift in light is enough to make your instincts bristle, but you stay focused on the lock, rolling your eyes at the interruption.
“Bro, if you’re lookin’ to mug me,” you say without looking up, your tone flat and unamused, “you should know I’m skint broke. Try some other bitch.”
The air around you seems to thicken with tension, and you feel the unmistakable weight of someone’s gaze boring into you. It’s enough to make you pause mid-turn on the lock, your breath catching as a low, familiar voice responds.
“I sure hope you’re not talking to me?” Comes your father, Bruce’s, deep voice.
Your head snaps up, and your breath catches in your throat as you realize it’s not some wannabe punk standing over you.
You pale instantly, the color draining from your face as you meet his icy blue eyes. His expression is unreadable, but the weight of his gaze is suffocating. The sheer presence of him—imposing, cold, and unnervingly silent—makes your stomach churn with dread. Your heart pounds in your chest as you scramble for words, your brain tripping over itself in panic.
“Oh—uh, Mr. Wayne—I didn’t—I mean, I thought…” you stammer, trying to cobble together an explanation and an apology all at once. Your hands fumble with the lock on your bike, suddenly feeling clumsy under his scrutiny. “I—um—sorry! I thought—uh—someone else—”
He raises an eyebrow, the tiniest shift in his expression, but it’s enough to make you flinch. You straighten up, clutching your bike for dear life, feeling small and utterly exposed under his towering figure.
“I see,” he says finally, his voice calm but laced with that undercurrent of authority that makes it clear he’s not just seeing. He’s assessing.
“I didn’t realize it was you,” you blurt, trying to salvage what’s left of your dignity. “I thought it was, uh, someone else. Someone trying to—um—mug me?” The excuse sounds weak even to your own ears, and you wince inwardly at how ridiculous it must sound.
Bruce’s gaze doesn’t waver. “Do you make a habit of mouthing off to strangers you assume are threats?” he asks, his tone deceptively mild.
“N-no, sir,” you stammer, shaking your head quickly. “I just—I didn’t mean anything by it. It’s been a long day, and I wasn’t thinking—”
He holds up a hand, cutting off your rambling. “Enough,” he says, “I’m here to pick you up. Alfred’s occupied.”
Your mouth opens, then closes, as you try to process his words. You hadn’t even considered the possibility that Bruce might be the one picking you up today. Of course, the thought of him going out of his way to do so hadn’t even crossed your mind, it wasn’t like he ever went out of his way for you before.
“Oh,” you manage after an awkward pause. “Right. Thanks.”
You still have your conversation from the previous day in mind.
“Come on,” he says, turning without another word. “We’re leaving.”
You hastily shove your bike into the back of his sleek black car, your movements hurried and uncoordinated under the pressure of his presence. Sliding into the back seat, you notice Tim sitting in the front passenger seat, looking at you through the rear mirror. You avert your gaze, clasping your hands tightly in your lap, trying not to fidget as the engine purrs to life. The air inside the car is thick with silence, broken only by the occasional click of the turn signal as Bruce maneuvers through traffic.
You steal a glance at him, his expression as stoic and unreadable as ever. Despite the tension knotting your stomach, you force yourself to speak. “I—uh, thanks for picking me up,” you mumble, staring out the window.
Bruce doesn’t respond immediately, his eyes fixed on the road. When he finally speaks, his tone is even but firm. “We’ll talk when we get home.”
Your throat tightens when you see Tim's glee filled smile, as if a cat had just caught a canary. You nod mutely, knowing there’s no point in arguing. Whatever he has to say, it’s not going to be pleasant.
[Hope you guys liked the chapter!! I'm sorry for the delay and the ghosting, more fics will be updated trust!! Also thank you to all the people who were checking on me, I really appreciate it!!]
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yandere-daydreams · 6 months ago
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tw - non/con, unbalanced power dynamics, obsessive/possessive behavior, and manipulation.
Guard Dog!Nanami, who's the best security you could possibly ask for. You've been told that hybrids aren't very good for protection, that you'd be better off just getting a regular dog or, better yet, not living alone in one of the sketchier neighborhoods of a notoriously unsafe city, but those people haven't meant your Kento. Stern, stoic, and loyal - he keeps you safe, helps around the house, and doesn't need (or want, for that matter) half of the attention a normal dog would need. Really, it's more like having a personal bodyguard than a pet. You're sure he'd prefer if it if you treated him more like the former than the latter, too.
Guard Dog!Nanami, who'd practically be human if it wasn't for the adorably pointed ears on top of his head, the wiry tail at the base of his spine, and the dull canines you sometimes catch a glimpse of during one of his rare smiles. It's clear that he doesn't consider himself to be like most hybrids, so you do your best to treat him like a roommate - giving him his space, making sure he has his privacy, constantly resisting the urge to run your hands through his hair and apologizing profusely when you inevitably fail. He claims he doesn't mind, not if it's you, but you've seen the way his lips curl when strangers so much as approach him, how he rolls his eyes when he sees other hybrids sitting on their owners' laps or begging for treats. You're not eager to get on his bad side, even if you do occasionally catch him slipping into your bed in the middle of the night.
Guard Dog!Nanami, who's mistaken for your boyfriend at least once a week. It's your own fault, really. He likes to walk you to work, run errands while you're away, all the things a stay-at-home boyfriend would usually do if he were as loving and as attentive as Nanami. It's always embarrassing, even if all you have to do is nod to one of his less-than-human features to clear up the misunderstanding. Still, it happens so often, and you're not proud to admit that from time to time, you don't have the energy to do anything but smile and nod when your elderly neighbor compliments the 'hunk of a man' living with you.
Guard Dog!Nanami, who's less naturally protective than you think he is. He's concerned with your safety, of course, but that's not a privilege that extends to the male coworkers he catches with a hand on the small of your back, to the friends who drag you out of your shared apartment and don't bring you back until the early hours of the morning. He spends more nights than he's proud of standing outside of your bedroom door, listening for any signs of life, waiting for an intruder, or a nightmare - any excuse to cross that unspoken boundary. It'd be more practical to spend his nights on the foot of your bed like every other drooling, filthy mutt hybrid, but that's not the kind of relationship he wants to have with you. Not if you have to think of him as a dog to get there.
Guard Dog!Nanami, who has to fuck his fist three times a day to offset his humiliating instincts. He tried for complete abstinence at first, not to think about you in that context at all, but there's only so many hours of his day he can spend with his knot pressed into his stomach, his cock twitching every time you bend over or brush against him. Still, it's far from a long-term solution. How could it be, when he still cums untouched every time you scratch the base of his ears?
Guard Dog!Nanami, who volunteers to take care of your household chores so he'll have an excuse to root through your laundry while you're away. He's surprised you haven't noticed just how much of your underwear mysteriously vanishes with every load, but even if you were less oblivious, he'd rather you be suspicious of him than ever find the hoard of tattered, stained, ruined fabric he keeps underneath his mattress.
Guard Dog!Nanami, who knows this can't go on for much longer. He loves you, and he respects you, and he knows that you'll never really see him as anything more than a pet, but he's can't seem to bring himself to see you as a master. And, when he's walking you home late at night after yet another unplanned bar crawl, when he's listening to you whine half-coherently about how hard it is to live with a hybrid that's so close to human, he may pass a darkened alleyway and listen to the long-buried, animalistic mind urging Nanami to claim what belongs to him.
Guard Dog!Nanami, who knows that you'll never make a very good master and he'll never make a very good pet. But, that doesn't mean he can't hope that you'll both be better off after your roles are reversed.
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cultofdionysusnet · 4 months ago
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Check out this fic by Jackie!
Kinktober Day 13 - Demigod!Jongho + Praise & Possession
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Anonymous Said: Hi !! Thank you for this amazing month that kinktober will be 👀 I was thinking about Demigod Jongho and maybe Praise + possesive 👀 (anything with Ateez will make me happy tbh) thank you for you work ♡♡ A/n: I got a little carried away with this one lmaooo but honestly, I really like the way it turned out. Jongho is a little stern in this one, but he means well. Also, I made him a son of Apollo in this, so I hope you pick up the little hints I left throughout that point to that hehehe and as a side note, I honestly think this is one of my favourite banners I made this year for this Warnings/Genre/Rating: 18+ MDNI - Smut, Mature, Established Relationship, Possession, Brief Insecurity and Angst to Start Word Count: 3,178 Kinktober 2024 Mini Masterlist
“Darling,” The soft hum of a baritone voice calls your attention towards the bedroom. “Are you going to come out yet?”
You pause in front of the bathroom mirror, giving yourself a final once over while biting your lower lip. You hands toy with the very short hemline of the dress you wear before smoothing out the front. The tips of your fingers tremble, and you take a deep breath in to steady your nerves.
Lifting your head, you meet your own gaze once more.
“Are you sure about this?” You call back, grimacing slightly as the strapless dress seems to want to slide down your figure with every twist and turn of your body.
“More sure of anything than I’ve ever been in my entire life.” Comes his eager reply. “Come. I wish to see you in the dress I bought for you.”
Swallowing your ever building nerves, you turn towards the door. Straightening your back, you take a slow, deep breath in before reaching out for the handle. A moment later, you finally exit the bathroom.
Nothing but the sound of your heels clicking on the hardwood floor can be heard as you step into the bedroom. Your walk is a little shaky, whole body heating with nerves. Your gaze is averted to the side as you stop directly in front of Jongho.
The moment you had stepped out in that all too tight dress that Jongho knew you would look ravishing in, his breathing had stopped. He had gripped the one arm of the brown leather chair that he’s sitting, leaning forward slightly as his lips parted in a low exhale. Slowly, his gaze raked over your figure, tongue darting out to wet his lips as his eyes darkened.
He was right.
“You look ravishing.” The admission is but a breathless exhale on his lips, pants growing tighter with every passing second he spends taking in your beauty before him.
Again, your fingers begin playing with the hem of your dress.
“Are you sure?” Your voice comes out a bit uneasy. “Because I’m not really used to wearing something like this, and I feel like I’m falling out of it; and it’s just really tight in all the wrong places; and it makes me look weird and frumpy; and you can see all my weird rolls and lumps-“
“Darling.” Jongho’s firm tone cuts into your nervous ramblings. His eyes are dark, head tilted forward as he gazes up at you with a stern expression. “What about yourself do you think that I don’t find attractive?”
You purse your lips, looking away in shame.
“It’s not that I think you don’t find me attractive currently…” You mutter, chewing your bottom lip between your teeth.
He tilts his head slightly. “Then, what is it, My Darling?”
Again, you purse your lips, internally debating on if you want to tell him what’s always been at the back of your mind. Squeezing your eyes shut, you take a deep breath in in an attempt to quell your racing heart.
“I’m just afraid that once you see all of me you’ll realize how unattractive I am.”
The admission is but a hushed whisper on your lips, and the tense silence that immediately follows makes your nerves skyrocket tenfold. Even the sun outside seems to dim, casting the whole room in shadows.
A shiver caresses your spine.
What feels like an eternity passes before you’re being startled out of your thoughts by his firm voice.
“Look at me.”
Cautiously, you peek your eyes open.
“I could sit here and lavish you in tender praises, but my soft words seem to mean nothing to you.” His gaze is sharp, calculating and focussed as he crosses a leg over his knee. Leaning back in his seat, Jongho raises a hand to his chin, contemplating. “Perhaps I have been too careful with my love for you, not wanting to scare you off with how intense my true feelings can be.”
You blink at him, brow furrowing slightly in confusion. “Jongho, what are you-“
“My words mean nothing if you don’t believe them.” Again, he cuts you off, rubbing his hand over his chin in thought. “I am nothing if you don’t believe in me.”
“I do believe in you!” Your eyes go wide, hands reaching out to him in defence of yourself.
“Then, do you think I would ever lie to you about your beauty?” His sharp gaze meets your own.
Your lips part in an answer, but words refuse to come out.
“Do you realize that your beauty comes from who you are, and not just some artificial outwards facade?” He continues, tilting his head forward as his closed fist supports the edge of his chin. “I could sit here and tell you all about your intelligence, your kindness, your compassion… Everything, and so much more that makes you unbelievably breathtaking to me, but you have conditioned yourself to believe your worth comes from something superficial.”
You remain silent, averting your gaze to the floor in shame.
“You’re much smarter than that.” Jongho shifts forward, uncrossing his legs to rest his elbows on his knees. “I know you’re much smarter than that. It’s what made me fall for you in the first place.”
“Jongho-“
He clicks his tongue, “I am not finished.”
Smartly, you clamp your lips shut, waiting for him to continue.
“I will admit… I bought you this dress because I wanted to see you in it. I wanted to see all of you.” Slowly, he trails his gaze from the very tips of your toes all the way up to your eyes. He licks his lips. “I am tried of you hiding your body from me when it is the most sinful delight I have ever had the pleasure of resting my gaze upon. Aphrodite herself cannot compare to you, My Darling.”
A soft gasp escapes you, heart skipping a beat inside of your chest. “But that’s your aunt!”
“My point exactly, Darling.” The grin that stretches across his features is nothing short of devious. “But if you still won’t take my word for it, then just listen to the way my body calls to your own.”
This time when Jongho leans back in his seat, he keeps his legs spread wide. His hands grip the arms of the chair, his eyes locked on your every reaction as you finally take in him sitting before you. Almost instantly, your gaze settles on the prominent tent in his slacks, a heat flooding through your body as you realize that you have done this to him. All because you wore his dress.
You lick your lips, flicking your gaze back upwards to meet his own.
“I have always been told that sometimes, actions can speak louder than words.” His voice is but a low drawl as he tilts his head back slightly, looking up at you with nothing but a deep hunger resting within his eyes. “I think it’s time I let certain actions speak for me.”
“What are you-“
“Shhh.” His tone is firm, lifting a hand and snapping his fingers closed in a silencing motion. “I don’t want to hear another word from you, unless it be a blissful cry of my name.”
Instantly, you straighten in your spot, curling your lips inwards as a thrill travels right through your core. You’ve never heard him use this kind of tone with you before, nor have you ever seen that dark, ravenous look in his eyes. To say you’re excited to see what he does next would be an understatement.
“Turn around.”
Your eyes catch on the way his one hand settles over his prominent bulge, and a soft whine escapes your lips.
He smirks.
“I said,” A firm jerk of his chin is given towards an object in the corner of the room, followed by him lifting a finger in a circular motion. “Turn. Around.”
This time, without hesitation, you do as told. Facing the opposite direction, your eyes catch on what it is exactly that he wants you to be looking at.
Jongho’s large, full length mirror rests across the room, perfectly capturing the two of you in it’s reflection. You can see the way he slowly begins to palm himself, his eyes fixated on your figure.
“Walk closer.” He commands, squeezing over himself lightly.
Slowly, you take a few steps forward on shaky legs. Your eyes dart every which way around the room, unsure of where you should be looking for the moment. The mere sight of him holds your attention, but the closer you get, the more your figure takes up the majority of the mirror’s surface.
“Don’t just look at me, Darling,” Jongho pops the button on his slacks, sliding the zipper down meticulously. “I want you to admire yourself as I get off to the very sight of you.”
Your breath hitches in your throat, heart fluttering at his words. A heat courses through your veins, feeling yourself clench around nothing as he slides his hand beneath his pants.
“Do you know how beautiful you are?” Again, he trails his gaze over your entire figure. “How fucking sexy you look right now?”
Your tongue comes out to wet your lips, swallowing lightly.
“My Beautiful Goddess…” He hums, hand beginning to stroke over his cock slowly. “All for me to admire…”
The way he leans his head back, a low groan escaping him, has your heart racing. You can see his throat working, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows thickly.
He tilts his predatory gaze back to you.
“Fuck- your ass look perfect in that dress.” Lips curl over teeth as he lets out a hiss. “I cannot wait to have my hands all over you, Darling. It’s taking everything in me right now not to tear that dress from you. I’m surprised I’ve even lasted this long, already. I’ve been ready to ravage you since even before you stepped out in front of me like this.”
Your lips part slightly, a low whine escaping you.
“Do you know how difficult it is to hide how you make me feel?” He hums, hand beginning to steadily pump over his cock beneath his slacks. “It’s almost embarrassing how much you turn me on. I can’t count the amount of times I’ve had to hide how hard you make me just from merely thinking about you.”
Lightly, your legs begin to tremble, thoughts consumed by the image of him being affected by you in such a way. You press your thighs together, eyes pleading with his own as you meet his gaze in the mirror.
Immediately, he catches the movement.
“How I’ve longed for those thighs to be wrapped around me.” He licks his lips. “Do you know how often I’ve fantasized about you sitting on my face? How often I’ve dreamt of feeling all of you pressing against me, and drowning me in everything you? Long since have I wanted to watch you above me, riding me until your legs give out.” A small hiss as he clenches his teeth at the thought. “Fuck- what a sight you would be, too… And then when you couldn’t hold yourself up anymore, I’d pin you down and make you fucking scream my name.”
“Jongho…” His name is but a whimper on your lips.
“Look at yourself.” His eyes flash, shifting slightly on the chair and pulling out his cock. “You get the privilege to touch that glorious body every single fucking day of your life. Do you know how long I’ve been craving to be able to say the same? To be able to simply breath the same air as you?”
Pants escape him in succession, a crazed look in his eyes as he stares you down. His hand sets a steady pace over his cock, thumb occasionally flicking over the tip and spreading his precome around.
At the way he sees you staring at his cock, he chuckles. His hand stops, squeezing his base as he proudly puts himself on display for you.
“Do you see what you do to me, Darling?” He coos, giving himself a languid stroke. “Do you see how hard you make me?” 
As if to emphasize his words, you see his cock twitch in his hand. A moment later, he spreads his thighs wider, sliding the slightest bit more down in his chair.
Every second your eyes are on him, he revels in. It’s only a matter of time before he’ll get you to look at yourself the same way you’re looking at him right now.
“Do you know how badly I want to bury this fat cock inside of you and split you open? How badly I feel the need to claim you as my own and have you screaming my fucking name to the heavens so that everyone knows who you belong to?” His chest heaves, and you can see his whole body trembling from the mere thought. “Do you know how sacred of a privilege it will be to say that your body, - your stunning body - and your very soul belong to me, and only me?”
“Jongho-“ You squeeze your thighs together, practically feeling the way you’re beginning to soak through your panties from his words alone. “Jongho, please-“
“I’m sorry, My Darling,” He tuts, shaking his head. “It doesn’t work that way. If you want me, then you have to let me see you.”
The way you notice his gaze flick down to your dress in the reflection of the mirror says it all.
Taking a small breath in, you steel your nerves.
Slowly, and with trembling hands, you begin to reach upwards. You can feel his eyes following your every movement as your fingers slip behind your back. Grasping the small zipper of the dress, you begin to drag it down your body.
Jongho’s breathing deepens, hand resuming its pace over his cock as he watches you unzip your dress. His whole body heats, thighs tensing as he holds himself back from coming right then and there. The small portion of your bare back that he can see finally being revealed to him nearly sends him into a spiral, the fingers of his opposite hand sinking harshly into the leather of the chair.
“That’s it, Darling,” His voice is but a rasp as he begins shaking in need. “Let me see that sexy body of yours. That glorious, sexy body… Show me all of you.”
The moment you finish undoing the zipper, you pause. Your one hand supports the front of the dress, ensuring it doesn’t slip from your body too soon as you prepare yourself for what you’re about to do.
Jongho catches your gaze once more in the mirror.
An audible hitch in his breath can be heard as you turn to face him. His fingers tighten even further on the arm of the chair as you step towards him, each movement calculated as you maintain eye contact with him the whole time. The only sounds in the room that can be heard are the clicking of your heels, and both of your heavy breaths.
Settling yourself between his legs, you stand before him. The way he looks up at you in awe, that dark lust and primal hunger still swirling beneath the surface, makes your heart flutter. The fact that you can see his cock twitching as he continues to pump himself with his hand causes the corner of your lips to quirk upwards.
The dress falls to the floor.
“My Darling- Fuck!” His eyes go wide, pupils blown out in lust as he jerks suddenly in his hand.
A loud cry of your name echoes around the room as Jongho tosses his head back, coming all over the expensive tailored suit he wears. His hand works over himself faster, hooded eyes still locked on your figure despite the position he’s in. There’s no way he would ever tear his gaze from the beautiful sight that is you, especially not now that you’ve finally fully revealed yourself to him.
Low growls escape him, chest heaving as rope after rope of white come splatters against his clothes. The wet sounds of his hand stroking over his cock only get louder, moans increasing as he drinks in every bare inch of you standing before him.
“My Darling,” He pants, slowing his movements over his cock as he catches his breath. “My Goddess.”
A soft, bashful smile tugs at your lips. Carefully, you reach up to brush his damp hair back from his forehead, stomach fluttering as this moment in time settles around you. The fact that he’s still looking up at you with such tender affection, that deep lust swirling within, causes another pleasant shiver to caress your spine.
“Only you could ever make me feel this way.” He breathes out, turning his head to place a gentle kiss upon your palm as you cup his cheeks.
A melodic giggle escapes your lips, and he swears it’s one of the most beautiful sounds he’s ever heard. However, what really makes his head spin is when you settle yourself into his lap, straddling him with a thigh on either side.
“That was insanely sexy of you, Ho-oh.” Again, you brush his hair back tenderly from his forehead.
“I live to please My Goddess,” He hums, leaning up to press his lips to yours.
You smile into the kiss, parting from him slightly to nuzzle his nose with your own.
“I’m sorry I ever doubted you.” Leaning forward, you rest your forehead on his own. “It won’t happen again.”
“It better not.” His chest rumbles in agreement, his hands slipping around to grab your ass. Eagerly, he squeezes the flesh appreciatively. “Though, I am always more than happy to show you the affect you have on me. All you have to do is ask.”
Again, you giggle, shifting the slightest bit forward so that your core is pressing directly over his cock. The way he groans at the feeling makes you clench around nothing.
“Did I make My Darling soak her pretty little panties already?” He grins, pulling you even closer against him.
“Keep talking like you were before, and I’ll soak even more than just my panties.” You mirror his grin, flicking your eyebrows at him teasingly.
A pleased rumble shakes his chest, his eyes seeming to glow as your hands trace over his shoulders.
“Believe me, Darling,” His voice drops into a low drawl as he leans into your ear. “I fully plan on making you soak both my face and my thighs many times over by the end of tonight.”
Your heart skips a beat in excitement, clenching hard as your hips involuntarily roll over his own.
A soft moan escapes his lips.
“Oh, yeah?” An airy whimper accompanies your words. “And how exactly do you plan on doing that?”
His gaze flits passed you, catching on his own reflection in the mirror as you sit in his lap.
He smirks.
“I’ve got a few ideas.”
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aajjks · 9 months ago
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tw: èxplïcït, bèggïng, pâthètïc yándèrè mèn YÜMMMMM 18+
Men who have no idea just how sexy they are, men who have absolutely no idea just how insane they drive you from the lust you feel for them, men who are pathetic enough to beg on their knees for you to let them have just one taste. Men who have no idea how hot they sound when they’re finally inside you as they moan and cry. Men who have no idea who hot they are when they act so pathetic and desperate and they’ve got you pooling and pushing your legs together when you see the insatiable sexual hunger in their eyes. they have no idea how big they are how much their desperation makes you feel in control and how much you love that feeling.
“Y-Yn please just one taste! Please- Please PLEASE just one taste! I’ll die for this pussy- oh my goodness I need it- can’t you see how much I need you? I feel like I’m fucking dying- come on let me be between these legs! PLEASE!”
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IZUKU, YUUJI, yuuta, geto, eren, denki, hawks, GOJO and KÖNIG
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myjungkookthighs · 2 months ago
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MY FAVORITE JUNGKOOK FANFICS & RECOMMENDATIONS PART1 ✮⋆˙────────୨ৎ───────˙⋆✮
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My first lists! These from my favorites JJK fics writers and how amazing their works and most of the fics are top-notch and i really recommend y'all to read it and show some love to their works!! 💗 ( Most of the fics are 🔞+ ) @myjungkookthighs
♥︎— NEEDY | Part 1, Part 2 by @girlygguk ( I'm going to say i love all of my baby lyssa's works she's an amazing writer that i adored so much. All her fics like a drugs to me , top-notch! lol)
nerd!jk x cheerleader!(f)reader
hiding his feelings when you didn’t even know his name was hard. hiding his neediness and obsession when you finally did know his name and you were his fucking girlfriend? impossible. well, then it's a good thing you like him needy.
♥︎—FIRST CLASS | Part 1 by @girlygguk ( chef kiss🤌)
rich student!jk x (f)rich student!reader
in which you are just another spoiled, bitchy, annoyingly gorgeous trust-fund baby who has everyone at Yonsei University eating from the palm of your hand. and jeon jungkook, your spoiled, fuck-boy, annoyingly gorgeous trust-fund baby best friend, is always first in line to take a bite.
♥︎—CRAZY | Part 1, Part2 by @girlygguk (addicted like a mad person)
ceo!jk x employee!(f)reader
you know it sounds twisted. that most people would see hyungwon as the perfect boyfriend. healthy, balanced, all the things that relationships should be. that’s when you realized... you weren't like most people. but that's okay. because neither is jungkook.
♥︎—HABITS (STAY HIGH) | Part1 by @girlygguk
student plug!jk x rich girl!reader
You9:06 PM do you be 🙄’ing other bitches yes or no
♥︎—BAD THINGS | Part 1 by @girlygguk
jock fuckboy!jk x nerdy fuckgirl!reader
getting jealous, sending mixed signals, simping for a gorgeous geek who has no idea what effect she has on him... it's just what jungkook does best. oh, and football. he's really good at football.
♥︎—DENIAL | Part1, Part2 by @girlygguk
idol!jk x (f)actress!reader
it's been a plethora of secret meetups, quickies in the bathrooms of his award shows, and 2 am 'you up?' texts during your year-long situationship with jungkook. you both agreed in the beginning that your careers are far too hectic to commit to anything serious, but you can't shake the shitty ache in your chest every time the high wears off, or when you're crawling out of his bed in the middle of the night. trying to exile the shitty feeling of longing that you harbor for him, you spend time with another one of your guy friends. jungkook sees, and he's ma
♥︎— BETWEEN THE RIDE AND THE ROSES (series) by @focusonkayjay
biker!Jk x flower shop owner!Reader
There's an insane turn of events when your calm and peaceful life is intruded by Jungkook, a biker boy who sets up his loud business right next to your own. Your paths cross under unlikely circumstances, starting with a clash of personalities but gradually you find yourself establishing a deeper connection with the annoyingly attractive biker jerk. You both have no idea what's in store for you guys as you try your best to put up with each other.
♥︎— FRIENDS WITHIN TOUCHING DISTANCE (series)by @dailynnt (Shout out to my love, her fic so amazing !!)
Best friend!Jungkook x Fem!Reader fwb!
What happens when two best friends try to get along under the same roof? You've been living with Jungkook for three months now, but your cohabitation is still a challenge for you. He continues to live like a real bachelor without following the rules you agreed upon from the beginning of your decision to live together. Should you find a compromise or should you find a new place to live?
♥︎—OLDER by @lovieku
dilf!jk x inexperienced!fem reader (i'm sucker for older or dilf jk!😭)
you’ve tried, but you can’t help yourself from crushing on your best friend’s dad. hot, buff, tatted up and successful, mr. jeon is the starring actor in all of your wettest dreams. and as you wake up from one while sleeping over at his house after his daughter’s birthday party, you don’t expect all of them to suddenly come true. but they do.
♥︎—HANDS ON ME by @lovieku
nerd!jk x popular!fem reader
it’s about to look like jeongguk’s birthday everyday with you.
♥︎—OBVIOUS by @lovieku
bookstore employee!jk x virgin!fem reader
you lose your virginity to jeongguk, the only boy you’d ever trust with such weight. and what you both feel for each other couldn’t be more obvious.
♥︎— GUYS MY AGE (one-shot) Drabble 1, Drabble 2 ,by @kooktrash
dilf jk x female college student!y/n [she/her] ( i had read 3 times cuz i'm sucker of it bcs IT'S CHEF KISS🤌)
a summer spent at your friend’s place wasn’t something to be anything to look forward to. her hot, young dad would seem to change that for you when you decide a game of teasing would suffice your boredom. you got more than you bargained for when you realize he’s not a fan of games.
♥︎— INFRUNAMI by @kooktrash
friends to lovers. y/n[afab, she/her] x best friend jungkook
you’ve made great friends throughout the years but none like jeon jungkook. he’s there for you when you need him and although at times when things get complicated between your feelings and thoughts… there’s one thing for certain. you both have been wasting time acting like there’s nothing between you.
♥︎— DEPEND ON ME by @kooktrash
Hybridbunnygirl!reader x human!jungkook
you’re so used to letting Jungkook do everything for you. he babies you almost and you’re both constantly reminded of the strangeness in your friendship. you’ve always loved him but he can’t see you as anything but the little bunny girl he used to protect. you change his mind
♥︎— NEVER AGAIN by @kooktrash
neighbor!jk x Reader
jeon jungkook is just your nosy neighbor who can’t seem to be anything less than a selfish, heart breaking, prick in your eyes. yet somehow he manages to wiggle his way into your life but is it enough for him to change your mind or will he prove your judgements right?
♥︎—MY DEAR FRIEND by @kooktrash
friends!jk x experienced!reader, f2l ( about a few day need to moved on from this fic)
just friends? keep telling yourself that, you and Jungkook have always danced on the line of friendship and something more but lately you’ve struggled being able to tell where you guys stand.
♥︎— BUNNY ADVENTURES by @kooktrash
hybrid!Jungkook x human!reader
you had absolutely no intentions of ever owning a hybrid until jungkook came along. a mistreated, misunderstood rabbit hybrid who’d only ever wanted was to be treated like an equal.
♥︎— RISQUE (series) by @mercurygguk
older!jk x reader age gap au (my all time favorite 😭)
in which jungkook struggles to keep his relationship with you strictly appropriate and it’s not like you’re making it easy for him.
♥︎— THE DILF INSTALLMENTS (series) by @mercurygguk
dad!jungkook x f. reader
this series follows jungkook’s life as a divorced father. but wait, how exactly does one balance being a father, a boyfriend, a friend, and a respectable boss at the same time? read the installments below to find out!
♥︎— THE ART OF (DILF JK SERIES) by @venusiangguk
 dilf jk x grocery store clerk reader ( never over this bcs it's cute 🤧)
you find a baby in your store and in turn, a dilf finds you
♥︎— ONLY WHEN IT'S US (series) by @luvismenu
Uni! Jungkook x Fem Reader Strangers to??
you both say it’s nothing serious, but with every touch and argument, it gets harder to stay away.
♥︎— STARBOY (series)by @luvismenu
popular classmate!jungkook x class president!reader
everyone assumes you two can't stand each other, but is that really true?
♥︎—BED CHEM (Mini Series) by @muniimyg
Uni student!Jungkook x uni Student! Reader Frenemies to lovers!
after overhearing jungkook fuck someone else; you can’t help but want out of being his frenemy
♥︎— BABYDADDY!JK (series) by @muniimyg
ex!au jungkook x ex!reader
Co- parenting
♥︎—ITBOYFRIEND!JUNGKOOK | (1) (2) (3) (4) (5) by @muniimyg
ITbf!Jk x Fem Reader
♥︎—JUST TAKE IT (series) by @ahgasegotarmy116
Inexperienced f!reader x Best Friend's Dad Jungkook (20 year age gap) dilf! jk
A turn of events has the people you thought you trusted stabbing you in the back and leaving you broken hearted and betrayed. Who knew though that sometimes things just happen for a reason
♥︎—BANG-ABLE (mini one-shot/drabble) by @ahgasegotarmy116
f!reader x Sex Bot Jungkook (I'm obsessed!! 😭)
You've been single for way too long and you're done with causal sex and all the drama that comes along with it...so why not try something new?
♥︎— DEEP SIX (mini series) by @bratkook but i read on AO3
biker!jk x reader
It’s like a stranger had a key, came inside of my mind and moved all my things around. He didn’t know snakes can hear the prey, can’t try to break the psyche down.
♥︎— CHAMPANGE CONFFETI by @margotw10bis
boyfriend!Jungkook x camgirl!reader
Your boyfriend loves watching you on live but his whole mood changes when he reads one specific comment from one of your fans
♥︎— PARADISE (series) by @minisugakoobies i read on AO3
 Stripper!Jungkook x Reader (my absolute favorite!😭)
That sexy man on stage - the one currently giving your friend the lap dance of her LIFE - is your super shy neighbor, Jeon Jungkook?!
♥︎— THE PINK PILL -"3 DAYS" by @dollfaceksj
best friend!jungkook x fem!reader (top-notch!i read twice😭)
In each of these universes, you find yourself consuming what is known as the pink pill. This pill is essentially a drug that enhances your libido to the max and you’ll quite literally never experience arousal like you do when you’ve taken this pill. Thankfully, in each universe, there’s a man that’s ready to help you explore and reach your peak of sexual euphoria.
♥︎— THE WEEKEND by @chryblossomjjk
dilf!jk x babysitter reader ( the best thing ever! 😭)
every weekend, you give jungkook a little taste of something he’s missing monday through friday.
♥︎—SUGARPLUM ELERGY by @bymoonchild
College!Jungkook x Reader , fwb (i can't let go of this story top-notch)
You know no bounds nor depth with Jungkook. While your fuck buddy loves sleeping in your bed and doing laundry for you with his favourite fabric softener, you are in love with a mysterious honeyed, velvety voice on Soundcloud. All’s fine, until you find out that the voice that metaphors your heart to a sweet sugarplum melody actually belongs to the boy who has been taking up a special spot in your bed and in your heart, strumming at your heartstrings all this while. Or, Jungkook has one braincell, but it’s heart-shaped.
♥︎— MICROWAVE (MIS)ADVENTURE by @bymoonchild
housemate!Jungkook x Reader
Out of all things to be afraid of, Jungkook, the seat-stealer of your 8am class and annoying housemate whom you despise with every fiber of your being, chooses to have a phobia of microwaves, but he loves buying microwaveable food – because come on, they’re irresistible – and you somehow find yourself getting dragged into his microwaves (mis)adventures. Cue chaos, sarcasm-laced banter and an unplanned romance.
♥︎— COLD NIGHTS AND BLURRED LINES| WARM NIGHTS & CLEAR LINES| cnbldrabbles by @awrkive
basketball!jungkook x nerdy!(fem) reader,fwb (i'm crazy over this 😭)
jungkook and you have been in a sexual relationship with each other for four months now, and it’s casual for the most part. but as time passes, you can’t help but feel that some of the lines suddenly got blurred in the process. is it a cliché to blur the lines with your fuck buddy? it definitely is. will you do something about it? both of your emotional constipation have a hard time saying yes.
♥︎—CAN'T LET IT GO (part 1)| PHYSICALLY OBSESSED(part2) by @chunghasweetie
dom!oc x nerdysub!jjk
loser nerd jk has crushed on her for years and is assigned to be her college tutor for her calculus class. studying doesn’t go exactly as planned and he ends up losing his virginity in the best way possible.
oc finally cuffs jk and they celebrate
♥︎— HE GIVE IT TO ME (Part1) | WONT TOUCH YOU LIKE ME (Part2)by @chunghasweetie
fem!oc x dealer!jjk
always giving out free shit to his favorite customer.
after a petty argument jungkook spots you showing out at a party with the hosts arm around your waist.
♥︎— MERAKI by @taegularities
grumpy!Jk x sunshine!reader
Jungkook finds you irritating; far too energetic and insistent. But his perception of you changes bit by bit, minute by minute, when he's persuaded into spending an entire night with you at places he doesn't know.
♥︎—NO NUT NOVEMBER by @2hightocare
dilf!jungkook x fem!reader
Jungkook didn’t think stuff through when he made a bet for “No Nut November” he seemed to forget that he can’t say no to you.
♥︎— FOR ME (DILF!JK DRABBLES COLLECTION ) by @personasintro
dilf!jungkook x reader
A collection of drabbles accompanied with dilf!jk
♥︎— BURNING HOUR by @jungqkook
Richbf!jk x gf!reader (you gonna need holy water later lmao!)
there’s nothing better than spending an entire day at your boyfriend’s yatch, tanning and waiting for the sunset with a drink in your hand… too bad your boyfriend had other plans for you.
♥︎—BETTER BOYFRIEND THAN HIM by @jungqkook
friend!Jk x reader
jungkook makes it a mission to prove to you that he can be better than your boring boyfriend. when it comes to sex, at least.
♥︎— FIGHT FOR YOU (series) by @ahundredtimesover
bodyguard!jk x heiress!reader
Working at a private security agency has its perks. The downside? Being the personal bodyguard of spoiled, rich heiresses like you. But there are things that Jungkook didn’t expect, like rejecting you, falling for you, and realizing what he’d been missing all along.
♥︎— GUARDED by @junghelioseok
bodyguard!Jk x Reader
❛❛ good girl. ❜❜ ❛❛ don’t get shy on me now. ❜❜
♥︎—BODYGUARD by @sxtaep
bodyguard!jk, idol!reader
when you’re stuck in a near-death situation, your high school crush, now your bodyguard, begins to regret ever rejecting you 5 years ago.
♥︎—STRIKE THREE by @avveh (ao3)
Bodyguark!jk x Bratty!Reader ( i'm obsessed!)
When discipline and chaos meet, one will always rise to the top.
♥︎— EVERYTHING IN YOU |Part1, Part2 , DRABBLE1, DRABBLE 2, DRABBLE 3 by @jjungkookislife
roommate!sperm donor Jk x pregnant! Reader (my favorite iso cute)
You want a baby and Jungkook is willing to help
♥︎— BABYMAKER by @badbtssmut
bestfriend!Jk x Reader
You want a baby, but you just broke up with your boyfriend but your best friend Jungkook offers you the solution to your heart break, he’ll give you your baby, no strings attached.
♥︎— SPECIAL PREPARATION by @badbtssmut
Piercer!Jungkook x Reader
You go to a piercing shop to get a clit piercing but your piercer Jungkook has an interesting way of prepping his clients.
─────────────────────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆───────────────────
Actually i like all Miss Cherry @redcherrykook fics and i read them all and her works always the bomb never disappointed me and here i will share my most favorites from her🤪💗
♥︎— SAFEWORD
daddy!jungkook and sub oc
♥︎—SPOT ME INSTEAD
gymrat!JK x gymrat!reader
♥︎—MIDNIGHT SNACK
idol!Jk x gf!Reader
♥︎—MILK AND CREAM
sub!JKx noona!Reader
♥︎—BAD BOY,GOOD GIRL/HIGHSCHOOL SWEET
highschool sweethearts!jk x Reader
♥︎— (TENT)ATIVE ENEMIES
friendnemie!Jk x Reader
♥︎— Kinktober D1-SOMNOPHILLIA
needy JK x reader
♥︎—Kinktober D8- OFFICER PLAYS & CUFFS
roleplay!!JKx bad girl oc
♥︎—Kinktober D10- SPANKING & PUNISHING
DADDY KINK JK! x sub oc
♥︎—Kinktober D12- MIRROR SEX
idol bf! Jk x gf! Reader
♥︎—Kinktober D16- MARKING
possessive bf! JK x Reader
♥︎—Kinktober D19- DACRYPHILLIA (crying kink)
Daddy! Jk x Crybaby! reader
♥︎—Kinktober D22- EXHIBITIONISM
bf!jk x gf reader
by @redcherrykook
That's it for part1 !
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