#i couldnt get the thought out of my little brain | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

rosedom · 4 months

Note

AHHHH HELLOOO sorry i usually dont request much, haha this is actually my second request in all of my tumblr story ever but...i saw you decided to write for gaming and i just couldnt resist, i love your writing a lot and i just think its so immaculate hahaa. Could you write an scenario where male reader is stressed from work (imagine he has an important job like a doctor or something whatever you want is fine :)) because he has been working days nonstop, so much that his boyfriend is all worked up and horny for him so when reader comes back he finds himself straddled by him while hes begging for fucking? With cockwarming, breeding kink and cowgirl position. Could that be with Gaming, Lyney and Gorou? SORRY IF IM ASKING MUCH I DONT WANT TO BE A BOTHER😭😭 i just dont know how to request but thanks for reading all of rant. And again, thank you and sorry for bothering😔 have a nice day/afternoon/night!

"an unnamed player has invited GA-MING, LYNEY, and GOROU to play . . . an apple a day

✦ㅤㅤ 【 CW 】 dom!top!male!reader, sub!bottom!ftm!characters, vaginal sex & riding, breeding kink + creampies, creaming (lyney), gratuitous praise + petnames .

A/N : aa u are never a bother !! i am SO SORRY this took so long for me to get to, omg . . . but i had sm fun with this (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ)

"do you want to watch, [PLAYER]? press KEEP READING to spectate the match."

Patient after patient after patient, each one with a more downright stupid trouble than the last. Your day had started with a young man, clearly fresh out of Millelith training, complaining of a tummy ache, of all things! He had clutched his stomach and moaned and groaned, and all you could prescribe him was bedrest. It’s not like you were going to waste medicine—medicine that some people needed—on someone who ached because he didn't eat fucking breakfast.

The next patient was an older woman, here only for her biannual check up. You'd greeted her, said a sweet, “Good morning, madame,” but all she did was turn her snobby nose up at you and demand you not waste her time.

“Madame, you have a serious—”

“I know, young man.” You had heaved a sigh, letting her boss you around for the length of her appointment before sending her off with the exact same specifications as last time: take vitamins, get ample rest, stop talking back to people just doing their jobs. (Though, that last one there was merely something you wished you had said.

Too bad the customer—in this case, patient—is always right, huh?)

But, by the end of the day, you wish, instead, that you had simply elderly after elderly; their disrespect pales to the absolute headache that the rest of your patients put behind your eyes, pounding at your skull—bam, bam, bam.

Wham bam-thank-you-ma'am, all throbbing incessantly behind your eyes and making you wanna hurl—except, god, you’re the fucking doctor, and who’s there to take care of him when he’s a little under the weather? You’ve got your boyfriend, of course—your perfect boyfriend, light of your life, apple of your eye, yet he’s home, and you’re here, and you’re bloody exhausted.

“I need to go home,” you murmur—quiet, lest your own voice make you lose the last of your thin-threaded sanity—, already stripping yourself of the itchy scrubs you wear during the long days.

“But sir—” the nurse asks, meak, but her voice is still too loud, too shrill for right now.

You huff. “I’ve worked for fourteen hours.” The tired gruff to your own voice makes you cringe. You can feel the way it tumbles from your chest, rattling you, your overly sensitive eyes and brain and head and fuckin’ everything, at this point. “Refer to the doc on duty, now.”

The nurse nods, once. “Have a good night, doctor.”

You bid farewell—a kind apology with a promise to make it up to them, to bring them coffee, maybe, or some cookies—, and you take the slow walk home. The sky is dark and the fireflies are out, the gentle glow illuminating the path. With nothing but your own thoughts and the night to accompany you, you feel your headache gradually ease. It throbs, still; but each bump in your skull is gentler, now: it’s easier to ignore.

Although the porch light is too strong—the lantern bright and attracting the nighttime bugs and moths—, the foyer of your home is dark. Your aching head is grateful for the reprieve—for the silence that envelops you in totality the second the door clicks quietly shut behind you—, but something other than tiredness pulls at your heartstrings: your sweet boyfriend, clad in only a shirt of yours, toeing into the entryway.

“Honey?” He wipes the sleep from his eyes, softly smiling at you. “Hi.”

“Ga-ming, honey—” honey, because Ga-ming unabashedly stole the pet name from you, first, “—you didn’t have to stay up for me.”

As if on cue, his jaw cracks open in a yawn: this, you do not need the lights on to see. Your heart aches with your head, knowing that he had stayed up just for you. “Honey,” you repeat, sliding off your jacket and stepping up to him. You take his waist in your hands, bunching up the shirt he stole from your closet.

“Quit with that,” he murmurs, tilting up his head for a soft kiss. You grant it; but when you go to pull back, to keep the kiss gentle and chaste, Ga-ming presses forward, darting that little tongue out to lick at the seam of your lips; his hips, too, come bumping against yours, pressing into your thigh, pant to skin—

“Ga-ming?” you repeat, breath leaving you in a low huff. “You’re—” bare.

Utterly, wholly bare: an expanse of warm, slick skin against your clothed leg. “‘m ready,” he mumbles while he takes to mouthing at your throat. His lips soothe you, somehow; it’s a reprieve, a stark contrast, to the pounding at your skull.

“Ready?” you whisper, tilting your head back, letting your hands guide the steady roll of his hips onto your lap.

He nods. “Ready for you,” he enunciates as he softly whines.

Ga-ming—your Ga-ming—, your boyfriend, your love and light of your life: right here in front of you, on you, all needy for you, offering himself to you, wholly ready for the taking.

“So please,” he continues, his cock dragging heavy across the seam of your pant; “fuck me.”

“Oh, honey,” you murmur; then again, an “oh, honey,” because you’re still half-dressed up in your clothes—though they’re only soft and bland, made to fit under the rough scrubs you had abandoned at the office—, and Ga-ming is naked save for the shirt draping across him, the low hemline covering the absolutely sinful way he grinds down. It’s a dirty move, a down, down, down that gives his sensitive cock friction against your pelvis.

“Please, please, ‘m ready, I said—” his words abruptly drop off, a high cry in his throat that sends him to hide his overly-warm face in your neck. His skin burns against you, a feverish-hot that makes you chuckle, makes the throb in your head go away, just-so. “I said I-I was ready, so, please!”

You coo, quiet, bumping your hips up once. The jerking motion makes him cry out, but he manages to keep himself upright, right-side up but entirely unmoored on your cock. “Go on then, little lion. Take what you need, yeah?”

Whimpering a quiet, “Y-yeah,” he begins riding you, slow, steady—but slightly off-balanced—rolls of his hips that makes him whine, makes you groan low n’ deep in your chest. You let your hands rest on his hips, the fabric of his shirt falling over your wrists, and gently guide his motions. Once you’ve helped him establish himself, he begins riding you harder, more desperate.

Silent tears—though, are they truly silent, loud as he is moaning out for you?—dribble down his cheeks, falling to his shirt and soaking the collar of it in salty evidence of his abject pleasure. His abdomen is tensing and relaxing and tensing and relaxing again, all in a rapid loop, in and out and in n’ out, and then there’s a fucking bulge right below his navel when he sinks down hard n’ deep on your cock; and you’re sent over the edge at the sight, moaning through your teeth as you fill Ga-ming up with hot, sticky cum.

“Oh, oh—” he cries, grinding down harsh to get all your cum in as deep as possible, deep ‘nuff to breed him— “bred me, bred me so well, oh—” You groan at his desperate babbling as his thighs jerk around your hips, just before they give out on him entirely. He falls bodily into your chest, heaving through his own orgasm as weak mewls tumble from his prettily parted lips. Each sound is smeared into your throat while you laugh, light and breathless, jostling his overly-sensitized body and making him flinch.

“Sorry, honey.” You kiss at his temple, and, the whole while, his small cunt is left to unconsciously milk your cock, left to assure that loud, insecure part of his brain that he’s wanted, that he’s bred all nice n’ full because he is loved. You’re long done, now, but the undulations make your body warm, soft, safe—just like Ga-ming is, comfy in your lap and wholly protected. “Thank you.”

He shakes his head against you, nuzzling into your throat with a heavy sigh. “You don’t have—hafta thank me,” he mumbles, a lick at your Adam’s apple to seal the deal. “I wanted ta.”

Tucking up the blankets around him, you grin. “Then can you warm my cock, lil’ dragon? Just for me?” You run your fingers lightly up his clothed spine, delighting in the shiver you can feel, one that runs the length of your cock as he’s snug on it. “Since earlier was all about you?” You raise the end of your sentence in a lilting tone, meant to tease, and Ga-ming huffs at you.

And, n further retaliation, he clenches around you; the soft squeeze—all wet n’ warm, smearing your own cum across the base of your cock and leaving the mess of both of yours to dribble down the minute space between your bodies—forces you to calm your breathing, to take in the delicate scent of what is undeniably Ga-ming mixed with the smell of your own shirt, your own cologne.

You laugh, then. “‘m sorry,” you say again amidst giggles, ones you’re careful you confine only to your upper chest lest the movement be too uncomfortable on both of your oversensitive groins.

He doesn't reply, snuggled up comfy on your lap and stuffed full of your cock n’ cum both. Instead, he only noses into your neck further before his breathing steadies, lulling you to sleep, too.

It’s in your final moments of consciousness that you realize your head no longer hurts.

(You suppose you now have the evidence that, yes, an orgasm is sufficient enough a cure for headaches.)

Under Lyney’s palm, a small floor lamp clicks silently on. The light is admittedly dim, but, to your sensitive eyes, the bulb is blinding. You cringe and cover your eyes; but it only serves to shield you slightly, because you’re still upright in the foyer, and your body is rather weak. “Lyney,” you tiredly murmur, lifting your palm just enough to see the ground lest you trip.

You bump into him, laughing lightly, but his worried hands jump to your arm. “Hey—”

“I’m okay.” You’re quick to calm him, placing your free hand on his in a tender gesture as you make way to the living room. “Just a headache, ‘s all. Ya shouldn't have stayed up f’r me.” Earlier, it hurt to even think; but here, with him, the pain is easy to ignore, in the face of his own self destruction.

He grumbles at you, though, says something you can’t quite catch and drops his hands, pads over to the lamp to flick it off. The return of darkness is soothing.

He smiles at you, then; or, at least, you think he does. It’s difficult to see in the dark, and you can’t strain your eyes without hurting yourself. “I wanted to!” He takes three long strides before he’s standing in front of you, draping his arms across your shoulders. The position makes his (your) shirt ride up on his belly, and— ”I missed you, y’know,” he murmurs, suddenly all soft n’ deep, looking up at you and bumping his forehead against your chin. “A lot, really.”

“Lyn—”

He quickly silences you with a kiss. Against your lips, he pulls back, murmurs, “I missed your cock, especially.”

Laughing against him, you lean up ‘til he can no longer reach you. He pouts at you when you reply, faux-snark, “only my cock, huh?” Your bottom lip juts out—a mirror of Lyney’s own, a magic trick of his you took for your own; it’s a devilish trick, one you play right alongside puppy-dog eyes you know he’s soft to. “How cruel.”

He huffs at you, pulling you down by the collar of your shirt to kiss the mirth off your lips. “I was tryin’ to be seductive,” he grumbles, knocking against your chin and beginning to push you backwards into the living room. “But nevermind!”

You want to say, “Hey, now:” disagree with him and keep on pouting and go, “hey, hey, hey,” all offended, but the backs of your knees come into contact with the edge of the sofa, and you’re well and sufficiently distracted from that idea.

“Sit,” he gently commands you—merely the illusion of choice—, giving you no choice in the matter with the way he’s pressing you down into the cushions. You go easily; you sigh in relief when the softness begins enveloping you—a pillow’s snug right in the middle of your back, and you briefly wonder if Lyney had planned this. He murmurs, “there you go,” quiet n’ soft, and you’re taken by the way this man gives to you.

He wears his heart on his sleeve, truly; except, right now, the sleeve is yours (just like his heart belongs to you and yours to him in turn), and it's bare, and so is the expanse of his long, pale thighs, the hem of his boxers peeking out beneath the shirt. He stands in front of you, between your legs, makes sure you’re down and that you’re gonna stay down, but your eyes aren’t really tired, not anymore, staring at Luney—your Lyney—before he huffs and sits bodily onto you, straddling your lap with his knees sinking into the cushions on either side of you.

“Lyney,” you murmur, reaching out to take hold of his thighs. The position makes the shirt rise up on his belly, exposing the soft, rippling muscles there; but, in the dark, all you can go by is what you feel against your own stomach, his bare skin pressed to your thin shirt. “I was kiddin’, sweetheart.”

“I know you were,” he snaps at you, mean-like, but he brings his arms around your shoulders all sweetly and nuzzles into the side of your head. “But I wasn’t. I—I really did miss you; and your cock. If you—if you wanna, of course.”

“Of course I want to, Lyn,” you mutter, tilting your head up to kiss beneath his chin. “I’m just a little tired.”

“A little?” He huffs, again, before sighing. “Just—let me do the work, alright? I’m already...” he pauses, tilts his head to the side, breathes in and out sharply.

You hum at him to go on.

“‘m already prepped.” Oh.

“Oh?” You grin, bringing your tired arm up to cup his cheek. He leans into your palm and his eyelashes flutter, brushing against your skin. “Go ahead then, sweet thing.”

And go ahead he does, smiling into you before he abruptly leans back ‘nuff to chuck off the shirt. You whine, say, “hey!” but there isn’t any bite left on your tongue when Lyney starts tugging his boxers down, too. He’s impatient, pulling at the seam and groaning curses at the fabric—as if it’s the damn boxers’ fault that he’s in a position that prevents him from taking them off.

He relents, tilting this way and that and finally—after painstaking minutes later, ones that, under no circumstance, should be arousing, but the anticipation, the wait: it all makes your dick chub up in your own pants—Lyney’s left naked in your lap. The fabric hangs off his foot, and you reach down to tug it the rest of the way off for your sweet boyfriend as he busies himself unbuckling your own belt, loosening the tough leather enough for your pants to droop and enough for him to reach a hot hand into your briefs.

“Eager, huh?” you tease, lifting your hips—and, subsequently, him—to let him get your dick out of your pants. Neither of you bother pulling down your own pants, not after Lyney spent so long on his boxers alone. He doesn’t dally. “My sweet Lyney.”

He sighs, again—he’s rather dramatic tonight; but, then again, when isn’t he? It wouldn’t quite be your Lyney without some theatrics—, spitting into his palm and lathering up your cock with it while he makes to straddle you more fully. “Thought you were tired,” he grumbles, hovering his, indeed, wet n’ slicked up and entirely prepped cunt over your thick cockhead.

“Mhm.” You set your hands on his plush thighs once he hooks the head of you into his loosened hole, groaning low and pleased in your throat while he softly whimpers at the barely-there stretch. He prepared himself well. “But when you’re lookin’ so pretty for me, I can’t help being wide awake. Wouldn’t wanna miss this sight for the world.”

With your eyes now adjusted to the light—and, oh, you consider how the throb of your head is a bygone memory now—, you can see the way his cheeks darken just-so, puffed up in exertion as his groin meets yours. You’ve got your cock stuffed up balls-deep in him, and he leans into you once he’s fully settled.

He moans, less out of outright pleasure and more out of total contentment, comfy and warm on your lap as your arms knead at his thighs. His arms squeeze around your shoulders, and he quietly asks, “Gimme a minute.”

Nodding, you simply bask in the steady heat of him, letting him adjust and recognize that, yes, you’re home, now, and you hadn’t really left him at all. “I missed you,” you murmur rather suddenly, your voice quiet but still stark in the silence of the night. “Thought about you durin’ my shift.”

“You did?” His voice is rough but wispy, a little out-there and entirely gone. He’s slipping into that mindset he always does when he’s left to warm your cock—regardless of if it were by his volition or your own—, but he begins to subtly grind his hips against you, mewling at the hot sparks of rapture from his cock rubbing just right against you.

“‘Course I did,” you continue, moving your hands to his hips instead to help move him along. His arms tighten around you and he moans directly into your ear.

From then on, it’s quiet: quiet, that is, save from the obscene slick noises of the lube Lyney used to prep himself earlier with his own slick, your pre-cum mixing up and making a mess of thick liquid between both of your thighs. His moans are barely audible, these soft, gentle lil’ uh, uh, uh’s punched out of him with each tender grind down.

You think, even, that you’ll both cum like this: quiet, nothing but the sounds of your connection and heavy breaths, moans, groans as you fall over the edge. But then Lyney starts bumping his groin against yours even harder, grinding down deep on your cock and rubbing against your full balls, and he starts babbling for you to “breed me! Please—”

“I-I’ll breed you,” you groan, leaning your head back into the sofa cushions and chasing your release, chasing the release you both want, the one he wants so desperately stuffed up deep inside him. “Gonna fill you right up, just like you want, sweetheart.”

He babbles more—a mix of syllables and words, more pleas for you to breed him—until he’s silenced by his own high-pitched whine, cumming around you and slathering you in creamy-white. The steady clench and release of his cunt forces you to your own end, thick cum slowly leaking out from the edges of his cunt and your cock. (You can hardly tell what’s your leaking cum and what is his own.)

“Thank you,” he mumbles, already beginning to doze. “Th’nk you:” quieter, more muddled against your ear.

You grab the throw you have across the sofa’s armrest, rucking it up around the two of you; you cocoon Lyney safe in your arms and on your softened cock. He’s nodded off, now, and he misses your words: “You don’t have to thank me,” you say anyway, even if he doesn’t hear you, “I love you.”

The cum’ll be sticky, later, when you wake up; but for now, it’s perfect. It’s perfectly warm and entirely cozy, wholly snuggled up with the love of your life. Your headache, the stressors of the day—they’re all forgotten in his presence.

You’re so, so glad to love him.

“Hi, puppy,” you coo. The sound of your own voice grates you, but you ignore it to sweetly smile at your beloved. He stands there, motionless for a moment right there at the threshold before the foyer, until he shakes his head with a barely-there laugh. “Gorou?”

He tilts his head to the side—this you can see, the silhouette of him in the moonlight—before he takes a tentative step forward.

Then another. And another. Another, another, another, ‘till he’s standing in front of you and leans up to kiss your jaw. “Hi,” he repeats, voice ruff (hah!) and hoarse, a little too much so. “Missed ya.”

You tilt your head back to let him mouth at you, and your hands subconsciously come to clutch at his hips, and— “Oh, Gorou,” you mumble, pleasantly aghast, because your hands come into contact with bare, slick skin. “Pent up?”

With a quiet whimper, he tilts his hips forward, into you, pressing against the contact of your fingers on him. You slowly slide your one hand around, sneaking a large handful of his ass before you dip into his cleft, shuddering when your fingertip easily glides across his slicked, open cunt.

“I-I wanted you, so bad,” he starts to mumble, shy, tucking his head into the meat where your shoulder meets your neck. Without any prompting, you adjust your stance, pressing your knee into his cock and making him jerk forward with another whimper high in his throat. “Oh!”

Slowly, his hips begin grinding—it’s a weak movement, testing, making sure you're really okay with this, right now. He moves unsure against you until you begin bumping your knee, letting his slick make a mess of your pant leg. “Go on,” you goad him on, soft, holding him snug against you. You can feel his cunt clench even through the fabric of your pants, a rapid rat-a-tat-tat against you that is oddly reminiscent of the headache you can feel begin to dissipate. “Take your pleasure, pup.”

He nods vehemently against you, beginning to hump as his tail swishes side to side, side to side, hypnotizing you just slightly. It’s hard to parse it out in the dark, but the shadow of it is undeniable behind him. Each bounce of your leg makes Gorou whimper, and he’s quick to crane his neck up for a kiss to muffle himself. You grant his request easily, but only for a minute; after, you gently part from him to murmur, so quiet that only he could possibly hear, those big, soft ears of his twitching as he strains, “What else do you want, honey?”

“Want you,” he whines, grinding harshly once, twice. “Want you inside me, want you to breed me.”

You didn’t expect that, but you’re a doctor, after all; it’s kinda in the job description to roll with the punches, so you do. “You wanna get fucked full of pups?” you ask, teasing and light, but Gorou’s mouth parts as a loud whine crawls out of his chest.

“Yes! Please.” Thick tears begin to drop from his eyes, saltwater dribbling onto the bare skin of your throat. “Now, now—breed me now,” he begs, and you coo at him, bringing your hands to curl into his hair, rubbing soothing circles into the base of one puppydog ear.

“Patience, pup.”

And, because he’s Gorou, and Gorou is nothing but a good boy, he nods, rapid-quick movements of his head, and begins to slow on your thigh. Heat shimmers low in your belly as he steps back from you on shaky legs, a wet splotch across your leg from his cunt. You bring a hand down, meaning to scoop it up off your pant, but your finger brushes two distinctly different textures: his natural slick, and fuckin’ lube. “Did you prepare yourself for me?”

“Y-yeah,” he mutters, tail tucking itself between his legs. You almost cringe at that, knowing he’s smearing himself into his own fur, but if he doesn’t mind, then you won’t either; besides, it’s hard to truly care when your boyfriend is so bashful in front of you. “I—I missed you, ‘nd wanted to be ready for you.”

The image of Gorou, ass up on the bed with four of his fingers stuffed up inside of himself flitters across your mind, makes your cock throb in your britches. Your erection was easy to ignore, earlier; but now it’s abject torture.

However, it’s not nearly as torturous as it was for your boyfriend, and you know this. You know he didn’t cum, know his fingers are far too short to truly reach in deep and press against his g-spot, know his wrist can’t comfortably bend to jerk himself off and finger himself at the same time. So you coo, soft, “Sweet boy. Where’s your toy?”

“Charging,” he mutters.

You grin at that: it’s perfect. “Can you go get it then, puppy?”

With an audible swallow, he nods, rushing for your bedroom. You follow behind him, lethargic but so, so turned on; and while he’s grabbing the vibrator from the corner, you shuck off the rest of your clothes and plop yourself down on the edge of your bed.

He must not expect you to have followed him, however, because once he turns around, he jumps, ears flattening to his head in embarrassment. You only laugh and pat your lap. “C’mere.”

Quickly—and toy in tow—, he shuffles over to you. He stands awkwardly in front of you for a moment before you murmur, “I said c’mere,” and tug him to straddle your lap. The position immediately forces his cock—slick n’ thick, out of its hood and throbbing incessantly—against yours, and he mewls helplessly for a moment, grinds once, twice again, before he grabs the lube to the side of you.

You hadn’t even noticed it there, but now that he’s grabbed it, pointed it out, you feel other wet spots beneath you. He fuckin’ masturbated here, right on the duvet you both sleep under, thinkin’ about you and only you. You’re taking out of your musings when he slathers up your cock in lube, messy and sloppy, and then he’s rising, positioning you, and sinking right on down.

“Mm!” he cries out, swiveling his hips to take you in deeper, deeper, deeper. You groan at the lube-slick combination that smothers your cock in Gorou, Gorou, Gorou. “Breed me, breed me!” Each meak plea makes your cock pulse inside him, and he mewls at each throb inside him. “Please!”

“I got you, pup,” you murmur, your edge so close you can taste it on the tip of your tongue. “Just make yourself feel good, and I’ll breed you, okay? Okay, puppy?”

“Okay, okay—”

You grin. “Good boy,” you say, and then he’s tumbling over the edge and bringing you right down with him. You groan into his throat, feeling the vibrations of his whimpers n’ whining moans as he’s getting thoroughly bred. Your hands ruck up his shirt to hold his sides and soothe him down from his high. “You did so good for me, sweetheart. Bred you just like I promised I would, hm?”

He weakly nods. “Thank you,” he mumbles, nosing at your throat.

And, well. You’re bloody exhausted, and you promised to breed him, and he can’t keep on being bred if you pull out. You tell yourself you’re only upholding your promise as Gorou falls asleep on your cock, breathing deep on your lap: tell yourself that it’s the lingering tiredness that suddenly seems to hit you in full-force that keeps him warm and snug on you.

Really, clean-up can wait.

i got a lil' carried away on lyney's part ,, o(*^＠^*)o also, none of these were really cowgirl 'cos reader was sitting up for it . . . i couldn't think of how to have him lay flat in these scenarios LOLL

13 MAR. 2024, @rosedom, rosey .

#ㅤ✦【 ASKS 】#i used to have very frequent headaches and the only way i could abate them was:#1) midol (god's gift to earth i stg)#and 2) jrking off.#so !!#sub genshin #genshin smut #genshin x reader #sub gaming #gaming x reader #sub lyney #lyney x reader #sub gorou #gorou x reader #lord .#top reader #dom reader #amab reader #male reader

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asonorouslullaby · 8 months

Text

In The Shadows

Purge Alternate Universe

Yandere - Gojo Satoru x Reader x Geto Suguru

A/N - Okayyyy I've been working on this for like a week and it's the longest I've ever written for one thing, I had a shoulder injury which is mostly healed up now during the week which hindered my progress a little because I originally really wanted this to get out nearer Halloween time, but oh well TT at least its here now right? Lmao, but I hope you guys enjoy it, I tried my best and lowkey kind of hate it, I wished I could've done more or something, but if you have any ideas around this for a possible part 2 let me knoww, although no promises ;) Consider this a massive thank you story, I now have over 100 followers and the likes and reblogs and comments, you guys, I'm crying, I love you all so much <333333 I love interacting with you guys and your comments on my stories or in my inbox <3333 you all make my day ilysm <3 :( AND IM SORRY I COULDNT HELP IT, they're kind of really mean so its more harsh yandere than the soft you all wanted :( I couldn't help myself its a purge AU TT, but I promise ill make something softer in the future <33 sorry this is so long omfg, but let me know your thoughts pretty please <3 and if you actually read all of this ily

summary - Another purge night is here and you think your safe and sound, but let your guard down and you'll find yourself bound.

warnings - purge, mentions of 'off screen' murder, actual 'off screen' murder, kind of gore but reader doesn't see it, blood, rope, reader gets tied up, gags?, tape over readers mouth, they're actually kind of really mean lol, especially Geto, descriptions of panic, anxiety, overthinking, stalker situation kind of, swearing, crying, brief hair pulling, if there's any more let me know ml <3

genre - Oneshot

wc - 7.2k

~spelling and grammar fixed already~

Edit - the top photo 6/11/23

The tip tapping of fingers on keys echoed around the silent room. The occasional footfalls of people around her walking up and down. Picking up books to further aid their studying would slip past the music playing in her ears when they were loud enough.

Every time she would hear someone being a little too loud for the library they were in she would glance up and shoot a half-hearted glare their way.

They’d never see her but it was the thought that counted. A barely audible sigh escapes her as she brings a hand up to massage her cold fingertips into the throbbing skin at her temple.

Nervous nibbling was occupying her teeth and lips, chewing away the flesh and creating tender spots her tongue would soon soothe.

She’d been staring at the same empty document for two hours now. No more than two sentences she was able to come up with before she’d erase them in a fit of frustration.

Abandoned textbooks lay closed behind her laptop, she’d deemed them no use around thirty minutes in, but she couldn't bring herself to get up and search for better ones.

She was antsy, not able to focus on her assignment due in a week's time. Her brain was all fogged up, too many thoughts going through her mind and yet she's not able to focus on a single one.

The purge was tonight. March 21st. And it was currently 1pm.

Why did she even bother to come to the library in the first place? Was she hoping to distract herself even just a little bit before she had to hunker herself down in her dorm for twelve hours?

Maybe. Yes.

Was it working? Absolutely not.

She was too skittish. Overthinking everything that had the potential of happening later and things that have previously happened.

‘Someone's not going to come and try to kill me just because I forgot to return their pen that one time, right?’

The amusing, albeit a little dark, thought did make the corner of her lips twitch just the smallest amount.

Taking off her headphones after stopping her music, she closes down her laptop and starts to move it into her bag.

She spares a quick glance around the few tables next to hers as she stands with the library's books in her arms. Her eyes locked with a man sitting roughly two tables down. Slumped back in his seat.

Gojo Satoru. Bright white and fluffy hair paired with a set of dazzling blue eyes. The ones currently peeking over the tops of his round shades that had slid down his nose as he tucked his head down slightly.

Sitting in front of him and abstracting her view of Gojo only slightly is who she assumed was Geto Suguru. Two peas in a pod and never seen without the other. The long black and silky strands of hair tied up in a half up bun was a giveaway to who he was as well.

Both of them were originally from Tokyo, Japan. Coming over to America over five years ago. Or at least that's what she’s heard from around the place, not knowing them personally. They were the most popular boys in school when she had joined a little over a year ago and they still held the title strong.

She doesn’t think she's ever really interacted with them. At Least not on any kind of personal level. Sure, maybe from a few friends of friends or passing each other in the hallway and being polite to her upperclassmen, but nothing all that memorable.

Which is why this prolonged eye contact is sending a very noticeable shiver down her spine. The smallest twitch of a smirk on his face and she was breaking eye contact, gulping down the pooled saliva in her mouth as she turned around and hastily made her way in between the towering bookshelves.

Leaving the library after stacking the books she’d previously taken back on the shelves, she hastily makes her way down the long corridors. Keeping her head down, her hands clutched tight on the strap of her bag. She passes very few people in the hallway.

Even after pushing through the doors and trekking her way to the dorms at the end of the path, there were very few people loitering around outside. Some of the people she passed looked like they could be stoned, not that she could really blame them. Some looked a little too relaxed and happy and some were just trying to get to their destination as quickly as possible. Like her.

As the doors came into view, and then the stairs, she slowly began to relax, her fast pace lessening up. Successfully getting to the safest place she could for when the purge would start.

It was also a massive relief that her two good friends would be staying with her during the twelve hours of horror. Last time she was by herself there had been multiple scares throughout the night. Nothing too big but something she didn’t think she could handle alone again.

Reaching her door on the third floor she fiddles with her keys for a few seconds before her door clicks open and she pushes her way inside. Closing the door and locking it again for good measure.

It was 1:43 pm.

A few minutes after she had arrived back at her dorm did she realize she still needed to pick up some food items. Being a broke student meant she had essentially nothing in her cupboards or her fridge. And if she was ‘hosting for the purge’ this year, it meant she had to stock up at least a little bit.

‘Imagine trying to hide from a killer and your stomach growls, I think I would just die on the spot.’ She thinks, the smallest smile gracing her face. Humour is usually her way to cope in situations like these. It’s either that or panicking and she’d rather try to save that for the main event.

With a heavy sigh and hesitation weighing her limbs down, she slowly puts her shoes and jacket back on. She can make this quick. In and out. Easy peasy.

With a quick jump while shaking her limbs out to get rid of her last minute hesitation, she quickly opens her door and steps out before shutting it behind her. No going back now. Locking the door behind her, she starts making her way back down the stairs and out the doors, walking in the direction of the food store.

Her nerves were still playing up though, eyes darting this way and that as if trying to find a reason for her to panic. ‘It’s okay, the purge hasn’t started yet, all those things are still illegal.’ Is what she keeps telling herself while taking a deep breath. But the fact they won’t be in a few hours was still cause for some panic.

Arriving at the store, she wizzes around, collecting any good looking snack and throwing it in her basket before hastily paying and leaving. The heavy plastic carrier bag hanging from her fingers gave her reason to think she went a bit overboard.

Her quickened steps and accelerated breathing were all she could hear for a while. Her walk back to her dorm was supposed to be a quiet one, less and less people were loitering around meaning less and less noises to distract her.

Especially from the new set of footsteps that have appeared behind her.

As soon as her mind clocked the extra set of footsteps there, it went into overdrive. ‘Who is that? Are they following me? No, you're being delusional, they're just trying to get back home. But are they? They just appeared out of nowhere. Are they going to try and kidnap me? Rape me? Stuff me in a van? Drag me down a dark alleyway and murder me?’

Her mind was racing, steps quickening and breathing silenced under the new threat. ‘Oh god, what if they’re stalking me? Waiting until the purge starts to come and slaughter me? They’re going to kill me. They’re going to kill me. What should I do? What should I do? What should I do?’

And then they were gone.

It barely registered in her mind that the fast paced footsteps from behind her had vanished. A sharp breath escaped her before her head whipped around on a desperate whim. No one. Not a soul on the path behind her.

Her shoulders sank with relief and a watery laugh broke free from her trembling lips. ‘I’m losing my mind.’ She thought. Even though that feeling in her gut had faded, it never fully disappeared. Her racing heart never slowed and neither did her footsteps.

Y/n hurried back to her dorm, almost running through the doors and up the stairs to fumble with her keys and quickly burst in. Double checking she locked the door behind her, and then checking every other lock on her third story apartment. Only when she had made sure they were all secure could she finally relax.

Her body shivering and hands shaking from the after effects of adrenaline. Her breathing is still a little shaky as she pulls a bunch of pillows and blankets into her tiny living room. Pushing her chair and sofa away to make more space as she lays everything out as neat as she could, making the floor a comfy space for her and her two friends to crash for the purge.

She empties the snacks from out of the plastic bag and piles them in a nice little corner near the TV. A small stack of movies there for when they’re all waiting for the purge to start. Some cards in a pack were also placed there.

The three of them are wanting to be as quiet as possible while the purge is going on. Everything locked, curtains drawn, lights off, TV with no volume and only subtitles, quiet games to play in case they got bored, etc.

They weren’t taking any chances. It was doubtful anything would happen, since nothing really ever did in the dorms. No student here would go as far as murdering somebody, everyone mostly stayed inside, not wanting to risk anything. She only knew of a few people that have snuck out before to rob a few stores, or do some petty revenge like smashing someone's car without getting into trouble.

But overall, it was best to remain quiet. They didn’t want to get murdered because the TV was turned up too loudly and attracted some wrong attention.

It was 5:15 pm.

This is the time her friends arrived. Knocking some made up code on the slab of wood before messaging just for good measure that it was really them outside.

After unlocking the door and letting her two good friends inside her dorm she swiftly closes and locks it again. Relieved greetings transpire as well as nervous whispers about the purge and some small gossip of who they think would actually go out this year and who are likely to stay inside.

The three of them start to make their way around her dorm, closing all the curtains and double checking the locks on all the windows and doors. Especially the balcony and front door.

After they’ve secured the apartment, they turn off all the necessary lights, flicking on a few electrical lanterns and setting them up around the living room, but away from the windows. They’ve left one lantern in the bathroom and one in her bedroom, both turned off, just in case of emergencies.

The three of them settle in a spread out pile on the blankets she put down in the living room. Some snacks are passed around already and a movie is slotted into the TV, playing as background noise mostly while they talk.

Erica, a sassy but kind of dumb girl, with choppy shoulder length hair that had been bleached and dyed a light green. She's donned in a crop top and sweatpants, comfy.

Don, a friendly giant, very kind in nature but also a little muscly. He has short black hair and a sculpted jawline. He also came in sweatpants and a baggy white T-shirt, also comfy.

Her two very good, and only, friends here. They’re in a few of her classes and all regularly hang out together.

“So,” Erica begins after her mouthful of powdered donut. “Who do you think is going to actually purge tonight? Like, actually actually. My moneys on them two hotties in my class.” She finishes, wiggling her eyebrows..

Don hums around his half empty soda can. “Yeah, honestly I wouldn't be surprised if they did.”

Y/n pipes up, “Wait who?” sitting up against the sofa behind her, getting comfy like she's about to hear the gossip of a lifetime.

“Oh, Em, G! You haven’t heard of it? You’ve seriously been, like, living under a rock or something.” Erica says jokingly. Picking apart pieces of her donut and eating them.

Don perks up too. “Really? You haven't?” Y/n shakes her head in denial as Don shrugs. “I get it, it’s mostly stayed in our class, hasn’t spread much further than that.” He says before crawling forward and rummaging around for more snacks.

“So get a load of this right!” Erica sits up too after finishing her donut. Waving her hands excitedly as she tells her latest gossip. “You know them two really hot upperclassmen right?” She draws out her ‘really’ and waits patiently at the end of her sentence for the other girl's confirmation.

When she nods in slight confusion, Erica continues, “There were some major rumours in class that the two of them were late this one day because they were beating someone up. And I don't mean like a few slaps or hair pulling, I mean punches. You know?”

Y/n nods again, this time with furrowed brows and Erica continues, “At first, I didn’t believe it, obviously. But then, the two of them came into class and I swear there were blood stains on their clothes. Blood stains! Not to mention all the plasters and bandages all over their hands! I just had to believe it then! Wouldn’t you?”

After the end of her long rant she slumps back against the front of the sofa and mumbles incoherently to herself shaking her head while pouting.

Don, who had been listening silently, pipes up, “It was true, I was actually there for once.”

Y/n’s eyebrows raise in disbelief at what she had just heard. Fighting, here? She couldn’t help but to doubt it, if only just a little. Stuff like that has never happened here. Or at least while she had been here. It was just unheard of.

And for an attack so vicious to result in blood being drawn, then there must have been somewhat of a good reason for it. That was the conclusion she came to.

“I mean, there had to have been a good reason for it.” Y/n says, “They’re pretty nice people aren't they? It is Gojo and Geto were talking about here, right? They’re really popular here too.” Her eyes darted between her two friends, looking for more answers on this unexpected juicy gossip.

Erica sighs wistfully, “No, it got shut down pretty quick, which I guess is why so little people have heard about it. God, would I pay to see them fight though. Their muscles must have looked amazing.”

They stop talking about it after that, Don getting distracted by the snacks and whining about how she didn’t get his favourite. Erica smacking him with a few pillows and complaining how he’s getting in the way of her movie she was barely even watching.

Their playful banter did little to distract from her inner turmoil. A small shiver went down her spine again. The memory from earlier in the library resurfacing in her mind. Gojo staring her down, the creepy walk back from the shops and now learning the two had at the very least helped in injuring someone.

It could just be because it was purge day, but everything was beginning to creep her out and she was overthinking again. ‘What if he wants to attack me next? What if all of those things were connected and someone really was following me home? What if he wants to kill me? What if both of them want to kill me? Have I ever done anything to offend them? I haven’t, have I?’ She knew these were far fetched and ridiculous, but she couldn’t help but think of them anyway.

Her spiralling thoughts were halted when a stray pillow smacked her in the face. “Oops, haha, sorry.” Erica sheepishly apologized, bringing her hand up to smooth down Y/n’s ruffled hair. Don was laughing in the background.

Y/n was stunned for a few seconds before replying, “Oh, don’t worry. How about we put something else on? This movie is kind of boring.” crawling across the piles of pillows and blankets to reach the stack of movies.

This caught the other two’s attention, eagerly rushing to the stack as well to try and get first pick. Arguing for a few more minutes before settling on a movie they all loved. Snuggling back into their original positions.

This was how the next few hours went before the announcement appeared.

It was 6:59 pm.

At exactly 7 on the dot, the TV went black before turning blue, the government announcing the commencement of the purge. Big bold letters and ‘Emergency Broadcast System’ and ‘This is not a test’ were displayed on the screen.

They were all quiet as it played out. The mood quickly turned sombre.

“Weapons of class 4 and lower have been authorized for use during the Purge. All other weapons are restricted.”

Don gulped.

“Government officials of ranking 10 have been granted immunity from the Purge and shall not be harmed.”

Erica huffed.

“Commencing at the siren, any and all crime, including murder, will be legal for 12 continuous hours.”

Y/n shivered.

“Police, fire, and emergency medical services will be unavailable until tomorrow morning at 7 am when The Purge concludes.”

She released a shaky breath. The announcement ends with “...A nation reborn.” before stopping. The screen turned black again.

No one moves or says anything. Each of them were frozen in an array of emotions. Fear being the most prominent.

The silence stretched on for minutes. Eerie in its wake, not even being able to hear other people in their dorm rooms like she normally would.

Eventually, after releasing another shaky breath and rearranging herself with trembling limbs, they all snap back into the present.

Don coughs and Erica shuffles awkwardly.

“Cards, anyone?” Y/n meekly speaks up. The other two nod as they sit in a small circle.

It was 7:36 pm.

This was when the first explosion of some kind was heard by them. Each of them froze in the middle of playing their mostly silent game of cards. The noise was distant, but the impact remained.

A scream from a few doors down echoed in the silent space.

They waited with baited breath for any follow up, but when nothing happened, they slowly relaxed. Each of them assumed it was the explosion that must have scared someone. Sometimes it’s better to think of the positive, rather than what that scream could have been for.

A few minutes later a siren bellows in the distance, a few car alarms wail.

Nothing too bad, but knowing that it could mean someone was being murdered out there didn’t give them any ease.

It was 8:02 pm.

This is when the banging starts. Y/n thinks it could be a few doors down again. Erica thinks it’s below them and Don thinks it’s above them.

Wherever it was, it was concerning.

Erica releases a small nervous chuckle. “Maybe someone is just having a good time?” A fake smile plastered on her face to try and mask her worry. Even she didn’t believe her little theory. Not during a time like this, during The Purge.

It was a few minutes later, after they had quietly resumed their game, that footsteps were heard.

Clacking down the hallway.

1, 2.

They were walking at a leisurely pace. Taking their time. Strolling down the hallway and getting closer and closer.

All three of them looked towards the door, as if someone were to burst in at any moment.

The footsteps slow before coming to a stop. Right outside her door.

The three of them hold their breath, bodies flinching when a light knock rings out into the open space.

Complete silence.

Another knock.

None of them had even noticed the earlier noises had stopped, too focused on the potential threat now right outside the door. Seemingly wanting someone to open up.

Three pairs of eyes dart between each other. Silent questions trying to push their way out without being heard. A few panicked half shrugs and furrowed brows with downturned lips later, another knock rings out.

This time it was a little louder.

Barely audible whisperings of ‘you go’, ‘no you’, ‘fuck no’, ‘who even is it?’ cut through the silence. No one wanted to ask the question. To even speak a hint of it lest it result in it coming true.

Eventually after a solid minute of panicked, almost silent, squabbling later. A frustrated and frightened Erica pushed herself up. Taking a very obvious deep breath. Eyes closed and silently mumbling to herself before taking a few steps over to the front door.

She tried to be as quiet as she could but each step sounded like it weighed a ton. Every creek and every wobble made to sound the loudest.

Very quietly bracing her hands upon the door, she leant up on her tiptoes. Peeking into the peephole positioned in the centre of the door.

The two left in the pile of blankets still. Not wanting to even breathe in fear of disturbing whatever was happening in front of them.

A sudden screech of pure panic and fear tore from Erica’s throat. Flailing before landing with a harsh thud on the floor beneath her. Scrambling backwards on her hands and feet, keeping her eyes on the door the entire time.

The two startle and immediately jump up, laboured breathing hindering their lungs from the sudden scare.

“What the fuck? Erica what happened? What was that?” Don frantically whispered. His eyes were also locked on the door.

Y/n also whispered to her, “Who was that? Erica?” her eyes locked onto her friend, not able to bring herself to look at the door yet.

“It was.. Oh god.. The peep..” Erica wheezed out. The fright took too much out of her with her frantic gasps for air.

A sudden bang echoed into the room. A few more followed before they all realized it was coming from the front door.

Erica screeched and threw herself back into a standing position, rushing for the kitchen and grabbing any sharp knife her eyes first laid on.

Don stood frozen in fear. Not able to move or barely breathe from the looks of it.

Y/n wasn’t any better herself. Downright terrified. This was her dorm. Her dorm. Which means whoever was outside, was looking for her.

The banging persisted, the person on the other side seemingly determined to get in. This proved correct when the handle started turning whichever way it could.

She didn’t even realize, terror clouding her senses because when she looked back to her two friends, Don had collapsed into himself, wheezing with little air entering his lungs amidst his panic. Erica was cornered in the kitchen, sobbing, tears flooding her cheeks and ruining her mascara she had in place.

The persistent banging stopped for a second. The faint sound of another pair of footsteps approached from the hallway outside. Muffled talking pursued but it was hard to make anything out, between her pounding heart, Erica’s sobs and the slab of wood in the way, didn’t make for easy hearing.

For Y/n, it seemed there was one second of complete silence. No sobbing, no voices, no distant alarms or explosions, no racing heart, no wheezing lungs. Before chaos sprung onto them.

Suddenly the people outside, because there was another person now, resumed banging on the door. But it didn’t seem like they were ‘just knocking’ anymore. No.

They were trying to break the door down.

She could see it from the way the door groaned and creaked under the relentless kicking. She couldn't quite tell if they were using their feet, or an object, or whatever.

All that mattered was that they were trying to get in. And they were going to succeed.

“Move! Hide! We need to hide!” She whisper-yelled. Rushing to Don and tugging on his arm to try and get him to move. He stared at her for a few seconds before his brain caught up, registering what was happening around him. The real danger he was in right now.

“Hide.. Oh god..” He panted, sprinting for the bathroom, the first place his eyes had landed on.

With Don now searching for a place to hide, she ran her way to Erica. Still trying to be as quiet as she could, in the little hopes that they would think she wasn’t here.

“Erica, we need to hide! They’re getting in!” She frantically whispered to her hyperventilating friend. Trying to shake her shoulders, even resorting to lightly slapping her face to try and get her attention. She was desperate.

“Please!” The sound of splintering caught both of their attention. Heads whipping towards the door starting to cave. She wasn’t all that surprised, that slab of wood was a shitty excuse for a door anyway.

Erica suddenly sprung up and dove for the piles of blankets in the living room. Trying to bury herself amongst them, taking the knife with her.

And now that all her friends had been taken care of, she ran for her bedroom. Trying her best not to stumble and fall in the dark hallway.

As soon as her door came into sight, she gently opened it, gunning for her wardrobe tucked into the corner of the room. Not even looking towards the turned off lantern, she didn’t need them knowing her hiding spot from something so obvious.

It was already messy anyway, so in her frazzled brain she didn’t bother caring where she tossed piles of clothes and shoes in her room.. They’d hopefully think it was like that in the first place.

After quickly clearing a space big enough for her to curl into, she did just that. Situating herself just right, back pressed against the side of the wardrobe, knees tucked to her chest and pressed against the boxes in front of her. She was sitting on old shirts she hadn’t seen for months.

Hearing the door breaking even further, she grabbed any clothes within her reach and threw them over herself. Shutting the door when she was mostly covered, she could have sworn she could hear laughter coming from the hallway.

A loud crash and splintering tore through the air. She knew it was her front door. And now they were inside.

Her hands slowly went up to cup around her mouth, trying to muffle her breathing as much as she could. Her body froze. Even when she already began to feel muscle cramps settling in, she dared not move. She forced herself to breathe slowly. Every inhale a struggle along with a reminder that she was still alive at this very moment. Even if she was convinced she wouldn’t be for much longer.

The thought brought tears to her eyes. The original shock wears from her body and settles into something akin to despair.

Her throat started clamping up, muscles seizing and throbbing with the need to cry.

It was the thudding of footsteps that shook her out of it. Snapping her half way back into a nightmarish reality.

She gulped. Closing her eyes and straining her ears for any information they were willing to receive.

Just as she thought. Two pairs of footsteps.

With every thud of a shoe or a spike in their muffled talking, her body would tremble.

It remained like this for a few more minutes. The footsteps or talking occasionally pausing.

It was during one of these silences, where a different sound was heard. She couldn’t identify the exact sounds, just ones of commotion. They were still all muffled. And then she heard muffled yelling.

It sounded so dulled, between the walls and layers of wood and clothes, she could barely make out anything, her ears straining for any hint as to what was happening. Being left in the dark like this, literally and figuratively, was terrifying her.

And then this horrible, awful noise carried its way between the cracks in the wardrobe. Crunching. Cracking. Stomps.

That muffled yelling from before kept getting cut off. Eventually dwindling down into a barely audible groan. Those thuds never seemed to stop either. Never ending, crunching, cracking, and now wet thuds.

Her brain was trying its hardest to process, to catch up with the information that it has been provided with.

More footsteps, only one pair, accompanied with muffled laughter. And a more distinct sound traveling through the air.

A scream.

Even more laughter, hurried footsteps and pleas of ‘no’, ‘please’, ‘don’ts’.

It was now, with the wet stomps still in the background, her screeching friend, that eager laugh, that her brain had finally caught up.

She was going to be sick.

They’re hurting them. Killing them.

Her friends.

Her body moved out of its own violation. Shaky hands and feet kicking and pushing their way out of the pile of clothes. Wardrobe door swinging open with a creak.

She collapsed out of it. Slumped on the floor, dry heaving. Her lungs not seeming to take enough air in but yet holding in too much. She couldn’t function. Fear overwhelmed every part of her. As well as grief.

Her ears were ringing and she was left gasping, drool dripping onto the hard floor beneath her as a result of her attempted vomiting. Eyes wide open, blurry when she tapped back into her mind.

Tears, clouding her vision and dripping audibly on the floorboards below her.

In the distance she could hear muffled talking. Two men, she could make out more clearly. Not only that, but squelching, wet, gooey noises seemed to mingle in the air. Gurgling was the next before silence.

A minute passed, maybe two before the footsteps started up again. Those goddamn footsteps.

1.. 2.

But they were slower than before. Steady. Taking their time.

And getting closer.

Her instincts kick in, blinking profusely to try and clear her eyes from the tears, looking up and darting around before landing on the space under her bed.

She wouldn’t have enough time to fix her spot back in the wardrobe. She couldn’t run past them, not even in her best state which she certainly wasn’t in right now. She had considered her bedroom window as an option, but it was locked, which would take time to open. Not even mentioning the fact she was on the third floor, so jumping out would break at least something important. They would be quick to notice as well, and if they came for her, it was likely they would decide to chase her down.

Under her bed seemed to be her best option at the moment, and she was running out of time. Scrambling as quietly as she could, she slid herself directly under her bed, trying to center herself in the middle of it, tucking herself into a tight ball.

The footsteps stopped right outside her bedroom door, she had enough sense to shut it on her way in, thank god. But that clearly wouldn’t be enough to stop them.

Almost as if the person was teasing her, they slowly clicked the door open. The distinct creak she had grown accustomed to over the months making itself known.

Her muscles are tense, tightening in the presence of her predators.

In the dark space from under her bed and in her room, it was obvious when the light from inside the hallway started spilling in the more the door got pushed open. In the vague depths of her mind it registered that they must’ve either turned the hall lights on, had taken one of her lanterns, or were carrying one of their own.

Her lungs were burning with the effort to keep her body running with the little air she was allowing them to have, all for the sake of trying to keep quiet.

It was all too silent once again, only for a second or two before the second pair of footsteps came towards her. A lot more hasty compared to the other ones.

Her breath silently hitched, the new person pushed their way into the room, stepping past their company before a thunk was heard. The sound forced her body to startle, jolting her muscles and kick starting her trembling again. An uncontrollable reaction to the fear she was under, the unrelenting motions causing a deep ache in her ribs.

The sound of rustling was now heard. It seemed they were looking for something. ‘They’re going to kill me. They’re digging around for a weapon to stab me with, to bash my head in, to murder me like they did my friends. I’m dead. I’m dead, I’mdeadI’mdeadI’mdead-’

Her racing thoughts consuming her fear riddled mind failed in picking up the sound of the other pair of footsteps slowly creeping round to the end of her bed.

The person paused, silently crouching down low before a pair of hands reached under.

The sudden tight grip on her ankles followed up by the sudden pull had her screeching. Pure terror flooding her veins. She had been yanked out from under her bed, lying sprawled on the floor and gazing up at the towering man stationed above her.

Her lungs burned, seizing up before a sickening scream escaped her. Fuelled by genuine, unrestrained horror.

They had found her.

One of her lanterns they had brought in illuminated his face in a haunting light. The darkened shadows stretching and contorting behind him to create the most grim image for her mind to paint. Not that it was far off.

A foot standing on either side of her hips, straddling her if it wasn’t for his standing position. Hands nestled comfortably back in his trouser pockets now they had done the job of retrieving her. A comfortable looking long-sleeved shirt adorned his figure. Dark splatters starting from the bottom of his shoes and creeping their way up his legs, tapering off into a few spots that painted one of his cheeks.

An easy smile softly ingrained on his face, followed by gentle looking eyes peering down at her if it wasn’t for the malicious spiral she found herself paralyzed in. Dark locks of hair extended down his back, past where she could see from her position, with the top layers sectioned off and tied back into a bun.

His mouth opened and he spoke. “Well, well. Look what I’ve caught for us Satoru.”

Satoru. The other man must be Satoru Gojo, and this was Suguru. Suguru Geto. The most popular guys she knew, the supposedly kindest. And then staring in the library, the walk back from the shops, the gossip her most likely dead friend had told her.

Her body suddenly felt like it was pumped full of adrenaline. Pushing herself up as fast as she could, using the bed as support all the while stumbling over her numb riddled legs. She took off, running towards the open door she so desperately wanted to pass through.

A sudden arm snatched her from around her waist and she screeched. Pure instinct driving her at this point as she scratched and kicked and flailed in his, Satoru Gojo’s, hold.

The sound of something dropping before his other arm came round, collecting both her wrists in one hand of his. His grip tightened the more she fought. Her body pressed tight against his, her back to his front. His head situated itself on her shoulder, tucking over and pressing his cheek to hers even while she cried and panted and kicked.

She could feel his grin pressing against the side of her face. “Such a pretty little thing we have here. Can’t let her get away so easily now, can we? Not after all the trouble we’ve gone through.” The last part practically whispered into her ear as she turned her face as far away as possible from him.

A little laugh boasted out from Geto. “Of course not.” He strolled over to them, bending down to pick up what Gojo had dropped in order to restrain her.

Rope.

Fucking rope.

The moment her eyes zoned in and processed what Geto was unravelling in his hands she tried to fight back even harder. Eyes flooding with tears that spilled down her cheeks. Short mumblings of ‘no’ being repeated over and over while becoming louder until she was yelling.

“Please don’t do this! Let me go! Please, please.. Stop!” She shrieked while sobbing, convinced they were going to kill her or torture her or something horrible like that.

Gojo walked the two of them to the edge of her bed before forcefully pushing her down, manhandling her onto her front and bending her arms to rest pressing against her back.

She sobbed into her ruffled sheets as she felt Geto fastening the rope tight around her wrists, the rough material digging into and pinching the sensitive skin. Raw and red marks already forming amidst her struggle.

Her legs still hung off the bed, trying their best to kick and hopefully injure one or both of them, but she knew it was a losing battle. None of her landing blows made them falter in any way.

When her wrists were successfully restrained Geto kept them pressed to the small of her back while Gojo let go and reached down to grab her ankles. Pulling them up and bending her legs at the knees while they both worked in finishing the task of tying her up.

When they finally stepped back to admire the work they’d successfully done, Y/n deflated. Tears soaking into her bed in which she rested on top of. Her lungs still burned, having never stopped. The hogtied position she had been forced into leaving her nothing to work with in terms of escaping. Not that she could think clearly anyway. The distress she was under proved too much.

“Oh, Shh Sh Sh… There, there, sweet thing. Settle down for us now. We aren’t going to kill you.” Cooed, who she could only guess right now was Gojo.

Geto reached forward from his position of kneeling on the bed, gentle soothing pets stroking her hair. Her sobbing tapering off into hiccupped breathing even while flinching with every touch. “There you go, good girl. See that wasn’t so hard now, was it?”

He pulled away from her, stepping down off the bed and heading towards the previously discarded bag on the floor Y/n hadn’t noticed before..

Y/n slowly turned her head round, no longer pressed into her sheets. Her eyes were red and bloodshot, swollen from all the crying she’d been doing. Little hiccups and groans left her while her lungs tried to recover. She’d given up struggling right now, it had done nothing but cause her pain as the rope dug and squeezed the skin of her wrists and ankles.

Gojo piped up from behind her, only now feeling the heat from his legs pressing into hers causing her to flinch. “You know, this would’ve gone a whole lot easier if you had just let us in sweetheart.” She could practically hear the smug smile in his voice. “Look at where you are now, tied up all pretty for us. Ripe for the taking.” He pressed closer to her at that, voice practically dripping with need.

She whined in fear and started squirming at his words. Panic flooding her senses again for just a second before a sharp tug to her hair had her yelping, halting her movements.

“I thought I told you to quit that.” Geto was back to kneeling on the bed in front of her, his hand gripping tight onto her hair, eyes narrowed.

Her bottom lip trembled, breaths picking up with every second he glared down at her.

“Don’t be so mean, Sugu.” Gojo said, a teasing lilt in his voice.

Geto glanced back at him before humming and letting go of his harsh grip, her scalp burning in turn. “I suppose you’re right. She’ll have plenty of time to learn when we take her back home.”

Gojo hummed and she felt him leaning away from her, hearing him crouch down and fiddle with something from the bag as well.

“Back home?..” She stuttered, voice hoarse and throat dry.

Geto looked back down at her, amusement painting his face. “Yes. Home.”

“Where..” She started, face formed in a twist of concern and confusion. “Please.. I.. Just let me go. I won’t- I won’t tell anyone, I’ll- I’ll leave you alone, I’ll do anything, please..” She gasped out, tears gathered freshly in her eyes again, voice cracking every few seconds.

An amused eyebrow raised with the hint of a smirk at the corner of his mouth was all she got as a response.

Gojo had come back, reaching round and fastening a strip of duct tape around her mouth in a sudden flurry of movement. Giving her no time to process what he had done until after he had done it.

She cried out, the sound muffled thanks to the tape, worried eyes darting around in panic as she tried squirming again for the third time.

Gojo pressed up behind her once again. “You’re not going anywhere, sweet pea! You’re ours now. We’ve had you picked out for a long time now.” The joy in his voice didn’t fail to put her on edge, his words doing their part in helping the tears gathered in her waterline to finally spill down her cheeks. Wetting the tape situated over her lips.

“He’s right.” Geto replied. Bringing one of his hands up to show what he had collected from the bag a few moments ago. The mobile phone in his hands glowed brightly in the dark room, the lamp from before having been moved, the light now dim.

“We’ll bring you back with us soon enough, but we still have a few more hours to kill before that. And why waste them.” Gojo said, the grin in his voice unsettling her, keeping her frozen in fear.

An easy smile pulled at Geto’s cheeks at that, head tilting to the side to gaze down at their pretty prey.

“Well what are you waiting for then, Satoru?”

A pause. Smile pulling into a predatory grin.

“Have at it.”

#geto x reader #gojo x reader #geto suguru #gojo saturo #jujutsu kaisen x reader #yandere geto #yandere geto suguru #yandere gojo #yandere gojo satoru #yandere gojo x reader #yandere geto x reader

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kurokens · 2 months

Text

In The Middle | Satosugu

anime/manga: jujutsu kaisen

character: gojo satoru & geto suguru

words: 798

pronouns: they/them

request: none

notes: probably an overused prompt but idc sue me, i needed to write one of my own. im a sucker for misunderstanding. i haven't written anything in such a long time, it's been a while im sorry, satosugu have been on my mind for a while, and i needed to write something with them because i love them so fucking much. it's gonna be a series, so hopefully i dont disappear after one part lol... later on it might be specific on some insecurities bc i need it and i thought well let's just share it with the world and other who might need it. sorry for any mistakes T-T

not proof read

song rec: SHE'S - In The Middle

genre: hurt comfort, fluff, slowburn, a little bit angsty, poly?

warnings: bad english not my first language, satosugu are in a loving relationship, misunderstanding, pinning, a lot of pinning on satosugu's end, reader is so oblivious (is that the right one?), insecure and self conscious reader

You've always told yourself you weren't the type to live with anyone, you liked your quiet and your peace. Alone in your little bubble, without a soul to disturb it. And yet, here you were awoken by your roomates lover quarrel in the room next door, for the hundredth time this week.

"Don't you love me anymore? Am I not enough for you?" a whiny voice whisper-screamed "Satoru, my love, it was a dream, it was all in your head." an exhausted voice replied

"So what?? It doesn't mean anything? Are my feelings not valid?" Gojo huffed.

"How are you so dramatic so early in the morning? Let's go back to sleep come here.", Geto carefully lifted the blanket so his boyfriend could go back exactly where he belonged, asleep and quiet in his arms.

Such occurences weren't new to you, you could even say there were your daily life, that's why you laughed hearing the bickering couple, and turned around in your bed to try and fall back asleep while their muffled voices could still be heard in the background. This was without counting on what part of their conversation your brain decided to pick up on next. "I dont know for how much longer I can do this Sugu.." Satoru sighed. "Me neither love, but there is nothing much we can do about it.They live with us." His black haired lover replied. "I know, ugh I know, but it's getting so much harder everyday. Seeing them is becoming unbearable. I can't stand it anymore, we need to do something." He went on. "Shh, I know, I feel the same. But we can't just drop this on them all of the sudden and expect it to go well." The oldest reasoned.

Your heart shattered on the other side of the wall, now sitting against the headboard, an unstoppable flow of tears falling down your face. You were a bother? You thought the three of you were friends, shit, scratch that, best friends. And yet, yet, this was how they felt about you. Fuck fuck FUCK You needed to calm down, it's okay, you're okay. It must have been a nightmare, yeah that's right, a nightmare. Your brain loved playing tricks on you, waking you up in the middle of the night with the most vivid and realistic nightmares ever, enough to send you into full blown meltdown. Nothing to worry about, it was just a nightmare, nothing else. That's what you told yourself and yet when you woke up you couldnt shake this weird feeling in your stomach. You contemplated staying in your bed all day and avoid your roomates but that would be silly to ignore them for something that was potentially just a dream. So you shook the silly feelings away and got out of your bed, made your way to the kitchen to make some breakfast. Your two roommates were already there, being lovey dovey in each others lap and the weird feeling made its way back into your stomach. "Hi there." You greeted tiredly, only to be met with an echo of short hms, and not even a nod to accompany the cold greeting. The lack of acknowledgment not helping with your already overthinking mind, you decided to take a quick breakfast and just leave them be. It could just be a coincidence, nothing to worry about haha, right? Or so you thought, because you were back in your room mindlessly scrolling through tik tok when you once again hear the muffled voices of your roommates. Your brain screamed at you to put your headphones on and drown out their conversation, but you couldn't get yourself to do it, and you decided to listen to them, to at least finally be able to know whether or not you dreamed what happened last night. And maybe you shouldn't have, but what else could you do now but listen to the cruel words of the ones you once considered your best friends. "Suguru, we need to do it soon. I can't even handle looking at them in the eyes anymore, let alone utter a word to them. We can't keep going like this." Satoru complained. "I know 'Toru, I know, but you need to understand it's not as easy as you think it is." You heard the black haired man answer. And it was enough for you, you needed to get out of there. You obviously were no longer welcomed here, and the sooner you left, the better it would be, for both parties. So inbetween tears you picked up a bag and threw some spare clothes and anything that you could think of in your frenzy state before you ran out of there, determined to never come back, at least not for a while.

here u gooo!! sorry i've been away for a while, i've been finding it hard to write and staying focused, but i missed it so much, especially for these two. i'll try not to take too long to write AT LEAST a second part, but would love to do more than this bc i want it to be extremely slown burn and a little bit angsty krkrkr

part 2 is here!!

#saturn's writing #satosugu x reader #satosugu x you #satosugu poly #jjk x reader #gojo x reader #geto x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru x you #geto suguru x gojo satoru x reader

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hyunjins-orange-slice-too · 3 months

Text

skz catching you reading fan fiction

pairing: idol ot8 x reader

wc: ~5.4k

warnings: lots of reader being embarrassed obv. pet names, hyunjin’s is a tiny bit angsty (sorry), a very brief joking mention of dying in seungmin’s

an: this is a repost from my recently deceased blog hyunjins-orange-slice. may she rest in peace. some of the fanfictions mentioned in this are mine and have been linked. others i just made up. 💕

masterlist

⋆｡‧˚chan˚‧｡⋆

“Come here. Across my lap, princess.” He ordered.

‘oh this is getting good’ you said quietly to yourself. you were in bed, cuddled up under the covers, the only light coming from the screen of your phone. your eyes flashed across the page quickly, needing to find out what happens next. it had clicked in your brain earlier today that there could quite possibly be fan fiction about your boyfriend floating around on the internet somewhere. you were aware of his fame. but that’s not why you’re with him, even though that’s how you met him. you had been together for a while now, and you cursed yourself for not thinking of this sooner. of course there’s fan fiction about him. and even though it makes you cringe in a way, you couldn’t stop yourself from immediately searching for it as soon as you got home. chan is still at the company, always working the long hours, so you were unsure when he would be home. but you assumed it would be late. so you allowed yourself to get lost in the world of stray kids tumblr. you had read a few already, but this one, this one was spicy. you could feel that familiar throb in between your legs.

“Honey..” He said in a surprised tone. “You’re so wet.” He ran his middle finger up your slit, playing in your wetness. He gently prodded your entrance. You moaned quietly against his thigh. “Only a couple more.” He said, then he spanked you again.

you squeezed your thighs together, briefly thinking of grabbing that buzzing friend from the top drawer of your nightstand. but before you could do so, the bedroom door opens. a tired chan enters, setting his bag down. you let out a gasp and clutch your phone against your chest as he looks up at you, suspicion on his face.

"whatcha doin, baby?" he asks.

"uh.. no-nothing." you stammer back. real smooth.

"why are you hiding your phone from me?" he looks a little concerned now as he sits on the bed next to you. he didn’t want to let himself think that you may be romantically talking to someone else. but he couldnt help it. you could read his feelings all over his face. and as embarrassing as it was, you couldnt bare for him to think you were cheating. it’s best that you just tell him the truth.

"i.. i might have been reading a story.. about you. written by a stay." you say, unable to look at him. you stared at the outlet on the wall across from the end of the bed.

he laughed. "fan fiction?!" he exclaimed, laughing even more. your face turned a bright red. "show me. let me see." he said, reaching for your phone.

you held it tighter to your chest. "no!" you argue, pulling away from him.

"cmon baby. let me seeeee." he whined, reaching for your phone again. you held it out of his reach, so he used his not so secret weapon. he started tickling your sides. you immediately screamed in pained laughter and folded your body in on itself and toward him, trying to detach his hands from your skin. he let go, grabbing the phone, and jumping off the bed. he ran to the corner of the room and you sat up on your knees on the bed. you didn’t move any closer, having realized your defeat.

"Good girl baby, suck daddy’s cock, choke on it, you can do it, take it all, that’s my girl…?" he read aloud. his sentence ending in a question, not having thought that the fan fiction you would be reading would be smut. the tips of his ears turned slightly pink, and you covered your face with your hands before he could look at you. "you’re reading a fan fiction called ‘his good girl, always’?" he asked, slightly stunned. but you could hear the amusement returning to his voice. "what does dom daddy chan mean?"

you groaned. "is this what you fantasize about, baby?" he asked but you couldn’t answer him. "look at me, honey."

you shook your head no, still covering your face with your hands. "i said look at me, princess. cmon, be a good girl." an involuntary whimper escaped your lips at that, and you slowly peeked at him over the tips of your fingers. a smirk was on his face, one dimple poking out, his eyes dark with lust. "let’s finish reading this, yeah?"

⋆｡‧˚minho˚‧｡⋆

“hey min?” you called. an answering grunt came from the other room. “could you pass me my phone? soonie is sleeping on my lap.”

you were sure he heard you. you could hear him get up from his desk and walk to the nightstand to get your phone. but that had been a couple minutes ago. what was taking him so long?

"minho?" you called again. he slowly shuffled into the living room, your phone in his hand, his face pointed at the screen. there was a smirk on his face.

oh shit.

you remembered what you had been doing on your phone last. you were sure you fell asleep earlier with tumblr open to the story you were currently reading. you enjoyed reading fan fiction about your boyfriend, though you never wanted to admit that to him. you felt like you might not have a choice in the matter now. you had been caught. he stopped a few feet away from you, still scrolling, his eyes moving back and forth as he read. the smirk on his face only grew as he continued to skim the page.

"min, give me my phone please." you said quietly. he held a finger up, shushing you.

"My cock drunk little slut, takes my cock so good." he read from the screen. "is this what you’re always reading on your phone?" minho asked, finally looking up at you.

you buried your head in your hands, scaring the cat off you lap. "i didn’t know you liked to read fan fiction about me. you have the real me, you know?" he said. "why am i always calling the reader kitten? is that a thing that stay thinks i like?"

you groaned. you could feel him come closer, until he was standing right in front of you. he dropped your phone onto the couch next to you, you could feel it bounce on the cushion. "hello?" he asked. you still couldn’t look at him. your face burned with embarrassment. your whole body burned with embarrassment. he wrapped his hands gently around your wrists and tugged. you let him pull your hands away from your face. he let go of your wrists and then used his fingers to tilt your chin up, so you were facing him. he was grinning, and you couldn’t help but notice the veins running up and down his arms. his arms never failed to make you a mess for him. "is that what you want? for me to call you kitten?" you tried to look away from him, but his grip tightened on your chin. "ah ah." he scolded. "answer me."

"i- it’s- um.. it’s something that i’ve thought about.." you admit. his thumb moved to gently stroke your cheek.

"you should have just told me that." he says, sweetly. "you want me to manhandle you too, like in that story? want me to use toys and eat my cum from your pussy?" his thumb has made its way to your lips now. gently rubbing back and forth before pressing into your mouth. you wrapped your lips around the digit, running your tongue around it.

"mmhmm" you mumbled around his finger.

"i think that can be arranged.. kitten." he purred.

⋆｡‧˚changbin˚‧｡⋆

you were sat in the corner of the room, butt on this hard ass wooden bench, swallowed by your boyfriends hoodie, face buried in your phone. changbin had begged for you to go to the gym with him today, and so you agreed. he’s so cute when he pouts and puffs his little cheeks out. but you had no intention of working out with him. you just said you would come. so he’s working out while you watch from the sidelines. and oh boy you could watch him work out for hours. he was currently doing the bench press? bench pressing? he was laying down on the bench thingy and pushing up on the bar thingy with the heavy thingies on the ends. chan was spotting him but changbin didn’t need it. he was all sweaty and yummy. so buff. were you drooling? see this is why you were looking so intently at your phone. if you watched him work out for too long, you got all soft and gooey and you didn’t want that. but looking at your phone wasn’t helping either. in fact, tumblr may be making your situation worse. but you couldn’t look away. not when there was a detailed fan fiction in front of you about your boyfriend. you were just reading it at first because it interested you. you know, for science. did they describe him correctly? did they get his size right? you were surprised to find out that the stories were actually pretty accurate. so then you kept reading. and now your 8 thousand words deep in a slow burn smut fic about him and you just so happened to get to the good part while you were in the gym with him. fuck. your body started getting hot. you stretched and removed your hoodie from your body. you kept scrolling, the content getting spicier and spicier. he was doing what with his tongue? holy shit why hasn’t he ever done that to you in real life?

"are you hot baby?" his voice pulled you from your fantasy land and startled a jump out of you.

"ah!" you exclaimed. you held your phone close to your chest, your cheeks burning up and flushing red. he was standing in front of you, sweaty. his black muscle shirt sticking to his body. he wiped the sweat from his face with a small white towel. your mouth filled with saliva at the sight of him. you forcibly swallowed before answering him. "uh.. yeah i got a little warm." you tell him.

"are you okay? you seem a little flustered." he sits down next to you on the bench. he chuckles to himself. "you know, you’re acting like you usually do when i’m teasing you."

your face and body were on fire. you looked down at the floor, at the wall, anywhere but at changbin. your silence must have been loud.

"baby?" he reaches for your arm. you flinch at the contact, not out of fear, but out of desire. you were in the gym and you were so embarrassed. you couldn’t have him touch you at all, not even on the arm. your phone clattered to the floor, having lost your grip when you flinched. you immediately reached for it, but changbin beat you to it. and of course, just your luck, he glances at the screen as he hands it back to you. "what’s this baby? what’re you reading?" he skims the page some more. "those are some naughty words.." he says, quieter this time. you try to take the phone from him but he moves it out of your reach, continuing to read. "this is about me?" he says a little too loud.

"bin, give me my phone back please." you say, reaching for it. he hands it over.

"sure baby. i didn’t know you liked to read fan fiction about me." he was smirking at you. clearly poking fun. "and it was dirty fan fiction too. baby. i didn’t know you were so naughty." he chuckles.

"binnie.. please don’t. i’m flustered enough as it is."

"was the story that good?" he asks, serious now.

you nod. "it’s pretty good, yeah. and we’re here in the gym and you’re all sweaty and muscly and i’m about to loose it, bin."

he outright laughs now. "okay baby. let’s get you home and you can tell me about your story." he stands and takes your hand, leading you out to the car.

⋆｡‧˚hyunjin˚‧｡⋆

"You are so beautiful, baby.” He said, stroking your cheek. “Such a pretty girl, about to suck her daddys cock.” You could feel your panties getting wet. “Open.” He ordered.

you absentmindedly rubbed your thighs together, trying to get any friction you could, so absorbed in the story you currently had open. you were in the kitchen, leaning against the counter, your elbows on the countertop. you eyes were glued to the screen. you were in the kitchen to make some dinner. you were hungry and you knew hyunjin would be home soon and probably would want something to eat as well. but now your hunger for food was long forgotten as a hunger for something else took over your mind. you didn’t even hear hyunjin put his key in the lock and open the door. he kicked his shoes off and dropped his bag, but you had no idea. one hand was against your mouth, the other hand had a death grip on your phone, thumb scrolling away at the text. hyunjin approached from behind, a little entertained that you hadn’t noticed him, and curious about what has you so focused. he peeks over your shoulder to glance at your phone.

The image of him above you may as well have been holy. It was holy to you. He was a god, and you worshipped him as such. “Fuuuck, baby.” He moaned, breathlessly.

he slowly wrapped his arms around your waist, scaring the daylights out of you. you jumped, dropping your phone, it clatters noisily onto the counter.

"what are you reading, angel?" he asks softly against your neck. he places a small kiss there.

"nothing." you lie quickly.

"didn’t seem like nothing." he hummed against your skin. "seemed kinda dirty. can i see?" he reaches around you for your phone and you don’t stop him. you know that you will never win an argument against hwang hyunjin. his long fingers close around the device, and he stands straight as he brings it to his face to look. you straighten as well, but you don’t turn to face him. you don’t want to see the look on his face when he sees what you’ve been reading.

"are you reading smut about me?" he asks. when you don’t answer, out of embarrassment, he gently grabs your shoulder and turns you around. "is this fan fiction?" you slowly nod your head, not looking at him, trying to understand his tone. he sounded upset.

"are you unhappy with our relationship?" he asks. that startles you to attention. you look up at him, his eyes filled with sadness.

"what? no, jinnie. absolutely not."

"then why are you reading this, if not to get something that you crave?" he argues. "am i not fulfilling your needs?"

"no. you are. i just—"

"i don’t understand why you would need to read this, unless you’re unhappy with me." he cuts you off. "especially smut. if i’m not satisfying you sexually, then we need to talk about that."

"that’s not it." you tell him. "i started reading it while you were away on tour because i missed you so badly. and some of it is actually.. good. so now, when i miss you and want to picture different scenarios about you, i’ll read some. i promise it has nothing to do with our relationship. it’s just fun to read what stay writes about you. and that one i was reading just now.. is pretty hot.." your cheeks flush. "i was actually going to bring it up with you to see if maybe you wanted to try something like that.." you look down at your hands, twirling your fingers together.

"you promise? if there’s something wrong, i can’t fix it unless you tell me about it." he says, holding you by the shoulders.

"i promise."

he’s smiling down at you now. "well then i guess let’s see what you’ve been reading. i saw you rubbing your thighs together, it must have been good to get you all hot and bothered like that." he starts reading the screen again. his smile grew the more he read. "so.. the part that you like.. is it the face fucking? or the daddy/princess dynamics?" he asks, seriously. but you feel it straight in your core. your panties sticking to your skin.

"i kinda like all of it.." you say quietly.

he sets the phone back down on the counter and brings his hand up to stroke your cheek. you noticed he was still a little sweaty from practice, and that only made you wetter. he leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on your mouth, his lips so plump and soft. he pulls away only an inch or so and then says against your lips, "well then get on your knees, princess."

⋆｡‧˚jisung‧｡⋆

"hey sungie, could you grab my phone?" you ask, just getting out of the shower, wrapping the towel around your torso and reaching for your comb.

"sure." he pauses whatever game he was playing and gets up to retrieve your phone from the bed for you. when he grabs it, he looks at the text filled screen. it only takes a moment for him to read the words.

‘that’s it baby, you like it when i ride your cock like this?’ ‘yes mommy.’

he felt his cock twitch in his pants, and his ears flame with heat at the same time. he drops the phone back on the bed and turns around and leaves the room immediately without saying anything to you.

"sungie?" you look after him, worriedly. you drop your comb and follow him into the living room. he’s pacing back and forth in front of the couch, biting on his thumb nail. "what’s wrong?" you ask. he doesn’t answer you. he just keeps pacing back and forth. you wonder what the heck has gotten into him. you return to your bedroom and grab your phone from where it was laying on the cover. you look at the screen. that fan fiction you had been reading was still open. oh no. was he freaked out that you were reading this? you’d never told him about it because you thought it might freak him out, and maybe you were right. you returned to the living room. han was sitting on the edge of the couch now, a blank stare on his face, his mind a million miles away.

"did you read what was on my phone?" you ask him.

he looks up at you, startled. "uh yeah, i did. i’m sorry! i didn’t mean to read it, it was just open and a couple words jumped out at me and i couldn’t help but read them but i promise i wasn’t trying to spy on you or anything it was an accident, i-" he was rambling.

"sungie, it’s okay." you cut him off. i don’t mind that you looked at it. i have nothing to hide. especially from you." you smile at him.

he looks back down at his hands, silent yet again.

"did you want to talk about it?" you asked. "do you have any questions?" you walked over and sat next to him on the couch. he leaned back, throwing his head over the back of the couch dramatically, his eyes shut. you noticed his hands were covering the tent in his pants. so he must have liked what he read you thought.

"it’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it right now. i can go back to the bathroom and we can talk about it after you’ve had time to think." you move to stand from the couch but han grabs your wrist. you look at him, his eyes wide.

"you were reading fan fiction about me?" he asked quietly. you nodded at him. "and you like to read that stuff?"

"i do." you answer him. "is that okay with you?"

he nods slowly, still thinking pretty hard about something.

"what do you like about them?" he asks.

"i just like to imagine different scenarios about you. especially when you’re gone on tour and i miss you. but i must admit, i’m pretty partial to subby jisung." you tell him, smirking. you loved to tease him. his face flushed a bright pink at your words.

"what’s subby jisung like?"

"well," you start, placing your hand on his thigh. "subby jisung is very needy, and whiny. he just can’t help it, he wants the reader so bad."

he shifts uncomfortably in his seat, trying to adjust his pants discreetly, but he fails.

"do you like the thought of that?" you tease. "did you like what you saw? the reader in that story was riding subby jisung as he begged. is that what’s got you hard?"

he shook his head no.

"then what was it?" you ask. he removes his hands from his front, fully exposing his erection to you, only hidden by his sweatpants. he makes grabby hands at you, and you smile. you stand up from the couch and drop your towel to the floor, fully naked in front of him. "what do you want, sungie? what did you read that you liked so much?"

"mommy.." he said quietly.

"what was that?" you say, teasing him some more. you loved it when he got like this. all soft and shy. you leaned down and grabbed the waistband of his sweatpants, clinging tightly to his small waist. you tugged them down and off him completely, his cock standing at attention.

"mommy.." he said a little louder. "please.."

"please what?"

"ride me, mommy. please." he begged. and how could you say no to that?

⋆｡‧˚felix‧｡⋆

you were both on the couch, facing each other, your legs tangled together. felix was playing a game on his switch and you were scrolling tumblr. it didn’t take long after you found the fic for you to start rubbing your thighs together. you “accidentally” brushed your foot against felix’s pants.

“hey angel, be careful where you’re kicking.” he giggles, never taking his eyes off the screen.

“sorry lixie.” you say softly, trying to hide the neediness in your voice. apparently you failed, because felix put his game down and looked up at you.

“what’s the matter, flower?”

you just shake your head no, still staring down at your phone.

“did you watch that maniac fan cam of me again? baby i know you like the ending fairy but im literally sitting right here. i couldn’t even perform because i was injured.”

that makes you smile a little. you do really love that performance. it’s his smile at the end. but no, you were wet from something else this time. “no, that’s not it.” you tell him.

“then what?”

you just shyly hold out your phone to him. he gently takes it from you and skims the words on the screen quickly. “oh. fan fiction? i’ve read this one actually. it’s pretty good but i wouldn’t say it’s my favorite one.”

you look at him, shocked. “you’ve read that one?”

“yeah i think changbin and i read this one together actually.” he laughs. “i try to stay away from the smut, because it’s a little weird to read that about yourself you know? but occasionally one will pop up and i’ll look it over.” he hands the phone back to you.

“pop up? pop up where?” you’re still shocked, mouth hanging open.

“on my tumblr.” he says matter of factly. “my favorite ones are the fake text ones. the unhinged ones where im sending funny memes.” he’s laughing again and you’re just looking at him. his beautiful face and you’re just in awe of him. of course this man would read his own fan fiction. he’s chronically online. “so.. are you going to tell me what you read that got you all bothered?”

“uh.. i just thought it was hot.. you know?” you say quietly, unable to meet his gaze.

“you like the thought of sucking me off while im playing games online? isn’t that what that one is about?”

you nod slowly.

“you just like the idea of sucking me off? or is it the thought of han or jeongin hearing you on the other side?”

you groan, grinding your hips into nothing. “lixie..” you whine.

“what, angel? i’m just trying to understand you.” he teases. he moves to climb on top of you, your back against the couch cushions, him hovering above you, caging your head with his arms. “do you want to talk about it some more?” he leans in closer. “or do you want to maybe act out your favorite fan fiction with me?” he places a gentle kiss on your lips and you’re lost. nothing exists but him.

⋆｡‧˚seungmin˚‧｡⋆

what choices had you made in life to bring you to this point? alone, in bed, one hand in your pants and the other hand gripping your phone, tumblr open. your favorite seungmin fic filling the screen. you had started reading fan fiction about him, and you weren’t proud of it. you just wanted him so badly. and if you were going to fantasize about him, might as well have some help from the internet, right? maybe you were just trying to make yourself feel better. you had known seungmin for a little while now. you have had a crush on him for just as long. it might even be more than a crush if you’re being honest with yourself. ever since you moved into the dorms, you’ve had some huge heart eyes for the guy. but he’s so intimidating. you were scared to ever talk to him. so here you were, hand down your pants, alone at the dorms, moaning his name.

“fuck. seungmin. yes.” you moan to yourself. maybe you were being a little too loud. but you didn’t care. no one was home, and it felt too good. your fingers making sloppy wet sounds as you pumped them in and out. the mental image of him above you had you right on the edge of release. when suddenly.. there’s a knock on the door.

shit.

what the fuck do you do in this situation? you yanked your hand out of your pants so fast, and pulled the blanket up over your head like there was someone actually in the room with you to hide from. you held your breath. trying to be as quiet as possible. after a minute or two, there it was again, the knocking.

“i know you’re in there.” he said. seungmin. you would know his voice anywhere. you’ve been obsessed with it for months now. “are you decent? i’m coming in.” he warns. and before you have time to panic about that, the door cracks open and seungmin sticks his beautiful head inside. he looks around and sees that your hiding under the covers. he walks in and sits on the edge of the bed.

“so.” he starts. “i think we should probably talk about that.” he pokes at what he thinks is your leg, but he can’t be sure. you’re just a pile of blankets. you pull the blanket down to reveal your face, bright red cheeks and watery eyes.

you look at him, but he’s not looking at you. he’s staring at your phone, which is laying on top of the covers, still on and open to tumblr.

“is that my name on the screen?” he asks, emotionless. you couldn’t tell if he was mad or disgusted or intrigued. he pointed at your phone with his index finger.

“i can explain.” you say.

“no need.” he looks into your eyes now. “you’re obviously reading fan fiction about me while you touch yourself. what else is there to explain?”

you seriously wanted to crawl into a hole and die. you prayed for the earth to swallow you up in that moment. where was the alien invasion when you needed it? “i— i guess you’re right..” you mumble. “there nothing else to explain.” you look up at the ceiling, tears pricking your eyes. “i’m sorry.” you tell him.

“don’t be sorry. i quite enjoyed hearing your moans from outside the door. what a thing to come home to.” he smiles his teasing smile at you and in that moment you’re glad that you’re in bed and not standing, because your legs turned to jello.

“i didn’t know my roomie was such a slut for me.” he says, reaching for the blanket. “my little slut.”

⋆｡‧˚jeongin˚‧｡⋆

god, your boyfriend had beautiful hands. you had this thought every day, multiple times a day. but you could never say anything to him. you were way too shy for that. and wouldn’t that be weird? ‘hey, innie i think you’re hands are really sexy.’? you were embarrassed just thinking about it. so you kept it to yourself. suffered in silence, drooling over his hands. you had recently turned to tumblr to fulfill your jeongin hand needs. and that was working out fine for a little while. but now, sat on the couch next to him, it’s like his hands are sending out a signal. a loud blaring siren that says hey! here we are! look at us!

the way he’s holding his phone, the muscles flexing as he uses his thumb to scroll instagram. your mind was immediately filled with dirty thoughts. so against your better judgement, you opened tumblr and continued reading. was it dangerous to read this while sitting so close to him? sure. but you couldn’t just excuse yourself to the other room without him having questions. so it’s either this, or just openly stare at his hands until he notices. what you didn’t anticipate however, was him putting his hand on your bare thigh, slowly rubbing your leg up and down, lovingly. he was doing it absentmindedly, ghosting his fingertips across your skin as he scrolled. you were sure your panties and your pajama shorts were probably soaked through at this point.

you forced your eyes back to the screen, but it only made things worse. in the real world, he’s gently rubbing your leg. in tumblr world, he’s wrapping his hand around your throat and squeezing. you accidentally let out a whimper, squirming in your seat. his hand stilled on your leg as he looked up at you. you dropped your phone onto your lap, and covered your face, mortified.

he laughs at you. “you’re adorable. why’re you hiding?” he reaches to try to pry your hands from your face. his fingers wrapping around your wrist send a shiver through your body, straight to your core.

“are those my hands?” he asks, chuckling nervously. you peek in between your fingers and see that your phone was displaying a rather large close up of his hands. somehow, the story you were reading had scrolled all the way back up to the top. there was the title of the story, and a picture of his hands. well fuck.

“i— uh-.” you stammer.

he holds his hands out in front of his face, turning them over and examining them. “what’s so special about them?” he asks, not really expecting an answer. “you must really like them if you’re reading fan fiction about them.” he laughs. “but i’m right here. you have the real thing on the same couch as you. why read about it?” he asks.

your face is bright pink. “i was embarrassed..” you admit softly.

“embarrassed? how long have you been thinking about this?”

you kind of shrug as an answer, meaning it’s been a while. he reaches for your phone, and before you can stop him, he’s scrolling. “choking?” he looks up at you. “is that what you want, baby? for me to wrap my hands around your pretty little throat?” your eyes went wide and you swallowed hard. “aren’t you going to answer me?” he teases. “i bet my big hand would fit almost all the way around..” in one swift motion, he wraps his hand around your ankle and tugs, forcing you onto your back, him kneeling in between your legs. he leans over you, his breath against your cheek, his hand slowly sliding up your chest, his index finger playing with the little dip at the base of your throat.

“i’ll put this hand here..” he says, wrapping it around your throat but applying no pressure. “and i’ll put this one here.” his other hand finds your soaked pajama shorts. “already prepped, baby.” he places a soft kiss against your lips before sliding his hand into your panties, his middle finger finding your hole. “let’s see how long you can last.”

🚨reminder: this blog is 18+ only. i’ve been getting a lot of new followers (which i greatly appreciate) but if there’s no age identifier on your blog, i’m blocking you no questions asked. (for my own sanity and peace of mind.) ik some people don’t actually go to my page to read the warnings, so im going to start attaching a warning at the bottom of all my posts. thanks for understanding. 💕

#stray kids #bang chan #stray kids x reader #stray kids imagines #bang chan stray kids #bang chan x reader #stray kids bang chan #stray kids smut #hyunjin #hyunjin smut #lee minho smut #han jisung smut #seungmin smut #jeongin smut #changbin smut #lee felix smut #stray kids fluff #hyunjins orange slice too

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