#i wanted to add more characters to the au so i came up with the fun idea of including masa and sharkman | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tteokdoroki · 11 months

Text

ೀ⋆OCT 31ST LEGALLY BLONDE ━━ seishiro nagi + coercion !

୨୧ — caution, you are now watching. seishiro nagi + coercion. there’s no way someone broke up with nagi because he’s too blonde!? poor baby, maybe you could provide a little emotional support…(5.5K)

୨୧ — rated r. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact ! nsfw, heavy smut, dark content, characters aged up to 20s, college!au, strangers to lovers (?), teaching assistant/student relationship, dom/sub dynamics, some switching, reader is lifted up by nagi, coercion, dubcon, handjobs, virginity loss, cherry chasing, oral fixation, mind break, praise kink, creampies, soft sex, clothed sex, unprotected sex, TA!reader, elle woods!nagi.

୨୧ — director’s note. happy halloween my loves! i hope you enjoy the final kinktober fic! its been super fun writing and editing for you all. stay tuned for the bonus in the coming weeks <3 - m.list ⋆ kinktober m.list ⋆ taglist ✧

this law school thing wasn’t all what it cracked up to be.

after the love of his life, reo mikage, had broken up with him for someone smarter, blander and richer than him — nagi had been blessed with the genius idea of following his ex all the way to one of the top law schools in the world. the plan was practically fool proof, the guys at his sorority worked hard to help seishiro study — pulling all nighters for practice tests and rewarding him with naps every time he had gotten a question right.

rin itoshi had even convinced his parents to reach out to a hollywood director so that they could film nagi’s audition tape. it obviously featured isagi and bachira too. nagi had even worn his best designer swim trunks to impress the board of admissions. they’d all been super supportive of the light haired male in his endeavours and were there when he passed his LSAT exam

with all of this combined, he had managed to get in in — if that wasn’t enough for reo, then what was?

the answer? nothing.

reo still wanted that bland, basic bitch his family was marrying him off to. she was sensible, she was rich and seishiro quickly realised that he had only ever been a bit of ditzy fun to reo — a dumb blonde to stick his dick into whenever the time felt right. eye candy and nothing more. balancing his shattering hard with the complexities of law school had been tough for the white haired male and everything seemed to be going wrong. no one would study with him, reo wouldn’t even look at him and his friends back home were busy with the wedding plans nagi so desperately wished he had.

however, that’s when you came along.

after having the epiphany that he didn’t need reo to succeed — nagi knuckles down and studied hard for the law firm internship being offered amongst his cohort. he was relieved to have you as a teaching assistant in the process, not only were you absolutely gorgeous but you were compassionate and empathetic. you were smart, eloquent and everything seishiro wished he could be for his ex.

perhaps that’s what drew him to you, why he followed your every word like a puppy drooling after a treat. you’d been kind to nagi for the entire semester, from helping him out with studying for the internship right down to today, where he would be taking on his very first case in a court of law. it should have been easy, the facts were simple too. the client and fellow fraternity brother (shidou ryousei) was accused of and arrested for the murder of his wife… but something about the events weren’t seeming to add up. nagi couldn’t come up with an alibi either.

it was as if the words; the reasonings, the justification for shidou’s freedom were right in front of grey-scale eyes, only scrambled up like morse code. “how about we take a break?” as if you were a vision from his dreams or an angel from up above, you appear behind nagi’s tall frame as he slumps defeatedly against the hotel room desk — your hands fixing themselves to his broad shoulders for a massage. “you’ve been at this all night, seishiro.”

the law student swears your touch could heal all human ailments, the warmth of your palms seeping into the tense parts of his muscles like a cell performing diffusion — relaxation forming a comfortable fog over his brain. “i know shidou didn’t do it,” nagi defends with a grumpy pout, leaning back into you so that his head rests lazily against your stomach. “he told me… he said he was getting liposuction.”

“we’ll need evidence of that,” you note, jerking your head to the side so that nagi can write it down. this entire time you’d been such a good mentor. “good boy.” something clicks in the light-haired male’s brain, a crackle of electricity shooting down his spine at your praise — swirling around in his guts as if to activate arousal. “run me through the witness statements again.” there’s a sensual lilt to the tone of your voice and your touch cascades from his shoulders up to his neck like a backwards flowing waterfall.

seishiro isn’t sure if he’s making things up or reading the signs correctly — but he knows that there’s some kind of tension bubbling in the air. particles that resemble an aphrodisiac using kinetic energy to collide together, painting the room with lustful colours. “shidou’s step daughter says she heard a gunshot around 2:15pm after leaving the shower, walkin’ downstairs only to find shidou hangin’ over his wife’s body — covered in blood. ugh, this is too much hassle. this doesn’t make any sense!” he tosses an annoyed sigh into quietness of the room, moaning in surprise when you cup the base of nagi’s neck to pull his head up to face you and your eyes meet.

“you need a break seishiro, we can come back to this later,” you hum, the vibrations of your voice laced with sex appeal. as he swallows thickly, the law student’s Adam’s apple bobs under the pressure of your fairy-light grip on his throat — anticipating more from you. at this point, you’re half bent over him as he leans back in the chair, pink tongue slowly darting out to cover your lips in a spit shine. “how about it?”

this feels so wrong. nagi’s cock stirring beneath his slacks at how good and kind you’re acting towards him. no one has ever gotten him this hot before — no one aside from reo. and you were still his teacher, by technicality, it would be wrong for nagi to even consider sucking your tongue down his throat. and yet, he can’t find it in himself to stop the temperature from rising between you, for falling into your dangerously salacious trap.

“y-yeah,” he breathes deep when you squeeze his throat a little to test the waters. “i could do with a break.”

“me too,” you gasp all too agreeably, bending the rest of the way down to capture seishiro’s lips in a searingly hot kiss. just as he wished you pry his mouth open with the tip of your curious tongue — pushing through his plush lips and curling around his own pink appendage. the lip lock is passionate, ravenous despite the mess and spit that you exchange. he chases your lips until he can’t breathe, sloppily accepting anything you give him, letting you lead where he can’t.

he’s never done this before, not like this, not without reo. but in this moment, the silver-blonde doesn’t think he could ever go back to making out with his ex. not now that you’re the one kissing him.

“i-i've never done any of this before.” the blonde gulps, swallowing down the copious amount of spit that builds on the palette of his tongue — looking into your eyes as a sense of hunger dawns on him, as if you’re the very meal he’s set to devour. “not without anyone that wasn’t—“

reo.

sure they’d done stuff together. naughty touches here and there, hands ghosting over boxer briefs and fingers tweaking nipples (sei’s were especially sensitive because of the cute little piercings his ex insisted he get) — but nothing close to actual sex, nothing with a girl, nothing with someone like you. a burning heat, unlike anything nagi’s ever felt before, begins to brew in his lower stomach. his cock rises beneath his pants that suddenly feel all too tight.

nagi’s girth twitches against his thigh as your nails rake their way down his chest and slowly pop open the buttons of his crisply pressed white shirt. it heaves beneath his clothes — heart hammering against its calcium cage of his ribs.

“i can tell, pretty boy.” you soothe him by purring into the shell of his ear, teeth tugging at the softness of his lobe. “but you’re a good kisser though. did reo teach you that?” your lips cascade down to his neck like a gentle flowing river at the same time that your hands delve below the belt to squeeze at seishiro’s swelling erection — testing the waters.

his hips instinctively buck up into the warmth of your palm and a grin spreads across your plush lips at the feeling of his precum soaking his underwater and smearing across your fingers in thick, clingy webs.

white and seedy and he’s nowhere close to cumming. almost like a little virgin.

“have you ever done this before, seishiro?”

the sound of his name, salaciously spelt out on his tongue, earns you a high pitched whine from nagi — his head rolling to the side and his thighs squeezing together with vicious need. “n-no,” he pauses before he grunts out a response and his entire body seizes as you take a firmer grip on his cock — jamming a thumb into his leaky slit to spread his arousal. “but i wanted to i just… reo said not until marriage—“

“— you don’t have to listen to reo anymore.” you announce breathily, setting a steady pace to your fist to jerk him off with. you’ve barely started and yet your hand is already glossed in a slight sheen of pre, soiling your knuckles from its viscousness. it’s so much for someone who’s never gone father than sloppy kisses and grinding while making out. it nurtures a certain seed of satisfaction in your chest to see him so messy so fast. “you can listen to me, sweet boy. do you want this… do you want it with me?”

without letting go of the fat, drippy cock within your grasp — you shift to stand between the desk and nagi’s chair, shoving papers and court notes to the ground in your lustful haze. nagi thrusts lazily into your closed fist as if it’s instinct, following the sensation like a moth takes to a candle light. his grey eyes grow murky like a pond, swimming with desire for you and only you.

who was reo mikage to seishiro nagi? when there was an angel like you willing to feed this inexperienced man morsels of a heavenly pleasure he’s never felt before. the lawyer in training nods at your words like an eager man fallen to siren’s song as bait. “i want you,” he whimpers airily. “i wanna with you.”

you rub down his thick, lengthy dick far enough to have your fingertips briefly brush against seishiro’s sensitive, weightly balls — just pulsing full of seed to give to you. the feeling makes nagi jump up from his seat so that he immediately towers over you. his height doesn’t overwhelm you, not when the towering blonde collapses onto you with a case of the shakes. he trembles above you, supporting himself by using one hand on the table while is mouth sloppily finds your neck to suck on and pacify himself.

“good boy, sei,” you coo, voice as sweet as hot sugar or candy. “i want you too. i always have. you’re such a pure, darling boy. glad to see that it’s true.” your praise is hidden in your soft moans as seishiro licks at the crystalline salt on your bare skin. you’re a little too twisted, taking advantage of his inexperience and his position beneath you as a student, but neither of you seem to care in this very moment.

sweat beads against nagi’s hairline like diamonds on an expensive Chanel necklace and roses bloom across his cheeks with exertion — his hips rise and fall into your sticky fist in fluid motions, changing the steady stream of ecstasy you provide him. your hand is a solace for his aching cock, but you still make your student work for it. make nagi chase you since he only works hard for the things he wants. and right now, he wants to reach the end of the tight rope of pleasure you have him walking on. and to stave off the stormy frustration he feels from the case.

your hand wriggles it’s way into his wet silver locks, dragging nagi’s hungry mouth over yours since he’s so desperate to taste you, to have at you. it shows in the way he roughly grabs your hips too, grip so tight it threatens to leave bruises he’ll have to apologise for later. “ngh… please. g-god. miss…a-angel please,” he stutters, his bucking into your hand faster and harder, back and forth, back and forth through the tight ring of your fist. his bright and angry red cockhead peeks through the other side, glazed in opaque white — it’s a nice feeling, blistering hot and sensitive. “i…hah… gotta—“

nagi’s lashes flutter against your cheek — a strained whine reverbing in the base of his throat while you let him fuck your hands to his heart’s content, let him chase this new pleasure he’s never known. let him fall from the high heavens with blackened and burnt angel’s wings. you make him sin, for the first time ever. something about this should feel off to nagi, his law teacher taking advantage of him like this — but at this point, he’s too far gone, drowning in a hellfire of lust.

mocking his moans, your mouth falls open in one of your own as you follow along with the pitiful expressions crossing the contours of seishirou’s face. “what is it, sei? what do you need?”

the room is too hot. your bodies against each other are temperate in the sex tainted air — accompanied by wet slapping sounds from your hand around his throbbing cock. “n-need to let go. it h-hurts,” he sniffles out, forcing his tongue into your mouth again to calm himself down. the more you speed up, remorselessly jerking him off, the closer nagi gets to the end of his own tether. this sensation is unfamiliar, the crumbling foundation of his orgasm coming crashing down as you fling droplets of his precum and arousal about the place — some of it landing on your clothes, the desk and discarded papers.

again, neither of you care.

“surrender to me baby, it’s okay. i’ve got you.” guiding the pale blonde through his first ever orgasm, you pour your heated words into his slobbering mouth — tongue running over his pearly white teeth and tangling with his drool coated tongue. that’s all sei needs to hear before he crumples against you with a shout — the first wave of his high crashing over him and pulling him under.

it’s world shattering, brain melting as he cums. his abdomen contracts under your never-ending touch, ropes of hot white dribbling from his stimulated tip like a tap that keeps running. nagi swears he almost blacks out, falling dizzy and victim to your lustful charms as he twitches and cums and cums into your soiled palm.

“f-fuck,” a soft whimper bubbles up on his raw bitten lips, stuttered out in suprise. “w-what was that?”

“you orgasmed for me, sei, so pretty baby.” comes another set of your gentle praises. he feels his entire body wrack with a shakes at your words, his cock doesn’t dare to soften either. “you look so good when you cum.”

his greyish-brownish eyes roll back into his skull when you let him go, his tip slapping against his clothed tummy. the brush of his cotton shirt against the slit on his tip makes him writhe from the sensitivity. “c-can i cum for you again? promise i’ll keep being good.”

“of course,” you grin, proud that to have corrupted the poor boy. “are you okay to let me touch you again or do you want it now?”

“touch me. now.” he growls, gripping your hand and guiding it towards his dribbling shaft, aiding the movement of your palm around him to start slow and lazy — working seishiro up into a heat once more. this time, the way your hand languidly jerks him off is made smooth by the evidence of his last orgasm, which you now use as lube. if you weren’t pressed for time and with a court case first thing tomorrow, you would have gotten onto your knees to clean up his copious amounts of mess.

you quickly reduce him to a babbling mess against you, drool laden on his tongue and dripping onto his skin as you drive your thumb over nagi’s hot tip in tight circles with your free hand — touching what doesn’t fit in the other. “reo treated you so badly, poor baby,” you mewl sweetly, kitten licking at his pulse point just below his neck. “you work so hard, you deserve so much better. you deserve me.”

he believes you, blindly and naively. nodding tenderly despite the way he widely fucks both of your hands as if they’re a makeshift hole — warm and slick, all for him. dopamine shocks him at the stem of his brain, spreading throughout his body like a wildfire only you can tame — it burns so good and feels even better to have your dainty, perfectly manicured fingers wrap around his chubby girth so deliciously.

for a moment, you let seishiro go to squeeze at his heavy breeder’s balls — noticing the way they pulsate in your palm to signify the pale blonde’s second impending orgasm. “i think…hah… i think ‘m gonna… c-cum! again!”

pushing at his shirt, you press a kiss to the creamy skin of nagi’s shoulder and hum pridefully. “thank you for letting me know, sweetheart. cum for me. give it to me.”

with your permission granted, another blinding ecstasy takes over nagi, and he falls victim to you and your merciless hands once again. blood rushes through his ears like a storm surge, drowning at your angel coos while you guide him through his high, never letting up as you palm him through it all. he quivers and his knees buckle, shooting a hot and hefty load of seed all over your hand and clothes and the papers nearby. “o-oh! fuck…” nagi chokes on a weak sob, bleating like an innocent lamb at the slaughter house while he weighed against your shorter frame — allowing you to bare the brunt of his weight and height.

he’s so pretty when he cums, silvering blonde locks matted to his forehead by sweat — cheeks pink and lips swollen and red. if you could, you’d swallow him whole and selfishly devour your student for all that he has to offer. silly little blonde, stupid for trusting you, for wanting to fuck you.

your hand doesn’t slow around his pulsing cock but instead speeds up, digging your thumb into his oozing slit as arousal pearls at its centre once more. “n-no, s’too much.” seishiro cries quietly, tears stinging a pathway down the apples of his milky cheeks. “it hurts.”

“poor you, poor baby.” you say harshly, mocking the poor blonde’s sniffles and hiccups. he’s exhausted and frustrated but doesn’t dare to pull away — his hips running after your hand hungrily. “you’re so cute sei, panting for me like a bitch in heat, fucking my hand like the dumb little blonde you are.” he hisses at the overstimulation, gargles on spit as it floods his mouth to accompany his appetite for you.

“i’m not…ngh… ‘m not dumb.” he whinges in response and before either of you know it, seishiro is cumming again. hard. soiling his lap with abundant amounts of white. his chest heaves as he comes down, collapsing against you. he might deny it later, but being dumbed down and reduced to a stupid blonde seemed to really do it for him.

finding his lips again, you soothe nagi with short and sweet kisses that grow more feverish by his own demand. all of a sudden you find yourself pinned to the desk below with the tall blonde between your instinctually parted legs so that he can grind against your panty clad core. “you’re…you’re right,” you say, breathing deep through your nose as your composure threatens to fall apart. “you’re so smart, sei. you’re the best lawyer on our team but…” bucking your hips once, you lower your voice by an octave so that your words slip through his ears like molten chocolate. “you’re acting like a dumb slut right now. don’t you wanna be my dumb slut, sei?”

his palm flattens against the mahogany desk just above your head, caging you in against its cold surface. “y-yes i do, oh fuck. please lemme fuck you. lemme be inside. i’ll be good.”

“are you sure, baby?”

“please—“

“but sei,” you brush a stray hair that curls at the centre of his forehead, the dumb blonde looking down at you with swimming grey eyes because he’s so needy. “it’d be your first time…”

his face scrunches, nose crinkled at its bridge and brows knitted together in frustration. now that nagi’s had a taste of your sinful elixir he can’t seem to stop, you’re like a drug an addict can’t quit. something that could ruin his life or future prospects if he doesn’t get help. and yet he can’t look away, can’t pull his body away from yours and his achy dick from between your thighs — instead leaning closer so that it sinks between your plush pussy lips.

nagi licks his lips, tongue rolling over his bottom one as he pants desperately. “please angel,” comes his broken beg, hanging pathetically in the sex tainted hair. “i need you. need it so bad. please please please— mph—!”

satisfied with his begging, you shove a set of cum soaked digits past the swell of seishiro’s pretty lips — chuckling darkly as his tongue laps over and in between them, and he whines at the salty taste of his arousal on your skin. “atta boy,” you coo, thrusting deep into the hot cavern of his mouth until the pale blonde gags around you, swallowing your fingers down like they’re a cock. he sucks so obediently, so desperately as if to please. like a good student too — and all the while, you work on kicking off your panties and flipping up your skirt so that he can get a nice rewarding view of your glistening cunt.

“c’mere,” you reach out to the blonde and he leans into you, letting you wrap an arm around his shoulders to keep him in place. “sei,” you gasp at the first contact of his thick, long shaft against your throbbing wet mound — mouth agape as if you’ve taken a gunshot wound to the chest. “do you know how to do this, smart boy? do you know how to fuck?”

nagi nods, pressing his forehead to yours while his hips jut forward on their own and his seedy tip brushes against your pearling clit so deliciously. at first, his movements are lax and the room is filled with the lewd squelches of your sexes moving over one another, but your breathing soon grows ragged and the salacious bump and grind becomes stickier and wetter.

“u-uhuh.” he mumbles in response.

he’s so good for you even when his mouth is full and his mind is dazed, sucking on your fingers while he lets you overwhelm him. however, the blonde is only so well behaved and patient, and it’s not long before he slips his girth past the tight ring of your entrance without any warning. his fingertips dance up to your waist, grabbing at the fat there and using it as leverage to drag you to the edge of the table so he can sink into you further.

“oh…fucking hell!” you whimper wetly against the junction of nagi’s neck, nails digging into his shoulders to steady yourself while he sets the pace to your sinful dance. he’s bigger than what you expected (despite mapping his girth out with your hands), stretching your sloppy walls wide to accommodate for his size. you don’t complain, however, eyes rolling as he brushes up against pleasure spots you could never reach on your own. “o-oh baby, fuck me.”

you pull your fingers out of his mouth with a lewd pop, desperate to hear the symphony of his sweet, low and sexy moans instead of having them muffled by your fingers while he fucks you for the first time. the pale blonde can hardly believe it — having your warmth wrapped around him and your cunt drool down on him like a waterfall.

the law student throws his weight into fucking you, bullying his way into the deepest parts of your womb to slothfully fuck up your gooey insides. your cunt, your moans, your whole body has some kind of control over nagi — dumbing him down and reducing him to a sex crazed mess. to the point where he can’t even remember his ex’s name. he’s a mop of pale blonde hair and sweaty clothes, entirely hunched over you.

“y-you’re so tight,” he tells you in a dreamy sigh, lost in the heat of your core. nagi’s grabs at your pudgy thighs and drags you back and forth onto his dick, the new deepness to his thrusts causing you to squeeze and froth around the fat base of nagi’s cock. “hah, feels so…so good.”

wrapping your shaky legs around his slender waist, you offer up the same treatment to nagi — pulling him close to the point where he’s buried in your sluice sex right up to the hilt. his precum smears against your ribbed walls and his broken whimper echoes around your hotel room. “that’s it, fuck me like you fucked my hand, sweet boy.” lust sparks against your sex slicked bodies, your breasts bouncing with every one of nagi’s calculated yet sloppy thrusts. you can’t get enough of one another, clinging and clawing at one another’s bodies madly. “you can do it, prove to reo that you don’t need him. only me.”

“o-only you.” nagi repeats weakly, tucking his face into your neck as he pounds you to the high heavens. the desk creaks beneath the force of his thrusts, threatening to break at the nails and bolts that hold it together. his eyelashes flutter against your skin, his low and deep moans mixed with high pitched gasps send a hot rush of dopamine across your brain and it really is all too much.

nagi’s already cum three times and managed to fold you in half over his desk as a virgin. he feel as though he might break with how much he loves this, loves fucking you senseless. another fresh set of tears burn tracks down his face and gather in his unfairly long lashes as they tickle your skin. he hiccups and heaves against you, whilst his breathing grows ragged every time his glistening cock escapes the snugness of your tight pussy, precum stringing along your puffy folds.

“so good baby, s-so fucking good!” your voice is broken and husky as you praise him, making his dick pulse against your g-spot over and over again. you’re fairing no better than he is, your skin blistering hot to the touch and bruised from how tight your student is gripping you — pulling you back onto his cock.

the pale blonde feels though he might burst, cream your insides like he did your hand and ruin that pretty skirt of yours — the one that sticks to his pelvis because of how close your bodies are. it’s rubbed him raw while he fucks you raw. “‘m i the best?” seishiro asks, cherishing the embrace of your viscous walls, his shaft coated in a crude mix of white as it froths from your tight little hole. “t-tell me i’m the best…”

“t-the best i’ve ever had! f-fuck, sei!” you squeal in response, only egging the law student on, babbling your praises while fat droplets of your arousal flies about the place — painting nagi’s pelvis in a shiny gloss, curling in his white happy trail as well.

“‘m the best. i’m the best for you.” grunting from the exertion and the very force of his own thrusts, seishiro wraps both of his strong arms around your middle and stands up from the table — taking you with him. at the new angle, the coil in your stomach only tightens and you fling your arms around his neck to prepare yourself for what’s to come next. “s’not enough, not deep enough. fuuuck you’re so wet and warm. i-i can’t,” he drawls lowly, nipping at the shell of your ear on instinct.

that’s when seishiro begins to use his sheer strength to lift and drop you back onto his thick girth, fucking up into you at the exact same time. “g-good god!” you cry out, your impending orgasm prickling at your pelvis — shooting down each section of your spine. all of it only serves to spur nagi on.

“give me your fingers,” he demands huskily, cantering into you from bellow — your juices running a steamy track down his heavy balls as they harshly smack against your peachy ass. “wan’ suck on ‘em. give ‘em.”

you don’t have time to register his ask because he grabs your wrist before your mind can even catch up (too occupied with the way he’s churning up your guts) and has two of your fingers in his eager little mouth — sucking on them diligently. you shudder as nagi runs his tongue between them, coats them in spit and drool that tracks across his chin once he’s done with them.

“touch yourself for me?” he pleads through a wet whine, almost too innocently. “wanna see you cum this time.”

it’s only then that you realise he’s been holding himself back, staving off his orgasm so he can see you writhe and gush all for him. the overstimulation must be burning at his brain, sizzling off his nerve endings and it’s probably more than the dumb little blonde virgin can take. so you do as he asks, trailing your spit slicked fingers between your bodies as they grind down on one another and you with your sensitive clit, pulling its hood back to draw tight circles over the pleasure nub.

“o-oh! seishiro!”

“that’s right, touch yourself f’me. wanna see you lose it like you make me lose it,” he moans softly constraining with how rough nagi pounds up into you. one of his hands slips from your hips to grope at your ass, pushing you down on him and forcing his cock to grind against that one special spot threatening to make you break. “‘m sorry,” he whimpers as though he’s going to cry. “d-don’t think i can hold back, angel.”

“then don’t,” you gasp at the new friction, holding onto your last strings of sanity as you fumble with your clit tucked away between your ravaged folds. “i know you wanna cum for me, sei. l-let go, yeah? wanna see you break for me, like a good blonde slut.”

your encouragement doesn’t give seishiro much choice, and while he’s in control of your bodies — his lean, strong frame anchoring you down onto his cock as it bullies your insides, you are in control of his mind. you destroy his train of thought, ruin the self-made man he was and send him tumbling into his final high. nagi’s orgasm breaks the surface viciously, pouring another load of his cum against your ripe and rippling walls. there’s still so much of it, the warm and viscous white seeping from your cunt and smearing all over your hot mound.

the force of nagi’s high is so strong that he nearly drops you, just about managing to pin you safely to the desk once more. he’s still cumming and cumming and cumming — but that doesn’t stop him from thrusting into you hard and fast, desperate to trigger your orgasm so he can reward himself. it doesn’t take long, he’d already had you seated on the edge before his mind had shattered to pieces just from fucking you.

you gush down his length and all over what remains of your shitty case notes (he probably didn’t need them anyways) with a pornographic shout when you finally hit your peak. it’s like the crescendo of a beautiful song — the world around you spinning and flashing white as you squirt and gush for the white haired lawyer.

“f-fuck.” you giggle with a soft smile, fatigue washing over the both of you come down from the gates of heaven — crashing back down to earth with ecstasy still buzzing in your veins. “good boy, sei. you did so good for me,” you hum softly. “do you feel any better?”

seishiro looks up at you from where his heavy frame has collapsed on your chest — clothes sweaty and askew, and offers you a lazy grin in return. “better,” he mumbles meekly and kisses a slither of your exposed skin, still grinding his seed into you as if to make sure it sticks. “thank you.”

bringing a hand up to toy with his hair and soothing him, you nod. “good, we should get some rest, you’ve got a big trial tomorrow, pretty boy.”

“do you think I can do it?”

“i know you can, sei.” you scratch at his scalp. “i meant it. what i said earlier. you’re the best lawyer on our team. shidou’s defence stands a pretty good chance.”

nagi grins once more, only this time he leans up to press a chaste kiss to your unexpecting mouth — pouring all of his gratefulness into it.

because thanks to you, he feels more confident about the trial, — almost as if he’s won the trial already. and even if nagi goes lose, at least he’s won you over.

2K notes · View notes

notiddygxthgf · 1 year

Text

1/2

★ pairings: choso kamo x f!reader

★ synopsis: Yuuji Itadori truly was the best friend a girl like you could ask for, but he wasn't the only reason you came to visit. (His older brother, the devilishly handsome Choso Kamo, had always been the apple of your eye).

★ c.w.: slow burn, friends to lovers, eventual smut, childhood sweethearts, kinda, mutual pining, choso with a tongue piercing, rough sex, cunnilingus, backshots, unprotected sex, regular people au, two year age gap, PWP.

★ a/n: hi pookie dookies!! ive been wanting to write choso for a while!! this is a one shot I split into two chapters bc its like, 11k words.... but! if u guys request it, I might add more chapters!!! thank u for ur support as always, muah muah!! (btw if u like tokyo rev go check out my other shit teehee).

★ w.c.; 4.5k

best friend's brother ; chapter index

YUUJI ITADORI WAS truly the best friend a girl like you could ask for. The two of you were kind of like childhood friends, though you hadn’t been close for a good portion of it. You didn’t remember the exact day Itadori had invited you into his home – though you knew it was some time in elementary school. The two of you had been practically inseparable ever since.

There was one thing about the pinkette’s home life in particular that seemed to catch your young eye.

His older brother, Choso.

He was two years your senior – dark hair, dark eyes, he looked nothing like his brother. He had this scar over the bridge of his nose from an accident that had happened when he was younger. He was an elusive figure, something of a mystery to your young mind – he was always there, but never there.

He was content to dwell in the background like some sort of side character.

The first time you’d ever met him had been at one of Itadori’s baseball games. He’d invited you to show up – and at this point you had to have been no older than 8 or 9 – and show out for him. And show out you sure did.

You had your mother do your hair up real nice in those cute little pigtails you used to love wearing. You had scribbled his jersey number onto a plain white tee the night before, donning some hot pink leggings beneath.

And you screamed for Itadori, cheered as loud as your little lungs would allow you to. He won, of course, but that’s not the point here. You’d gone up to him after the game, wrapping your short arms around his frame – and at the time he was no larger than you were – and telling him he’d done great. Itadori grinned at you, faint blush dusting his cheeks, and thanked you. His smile was a thousand suns in one.

A hand on his shoulder had shaken the two of you out of the moment. A bigger hand.

It was his 11-year-old adoptive brother, Choso Kamo. An angel of the darkness, as corny as that sounds, but in that moment you swore the gates of heaven resided in those dark eyes of his. He stood out against the bright backdrop of the September afternoon. The sunlight filtered through his short black hair, reflected off of his pale skin, shooting rays right into your stomach and sending a horde of butterflies fluttering.

“This your girlfriend, Yuuji?” He commented with a half-grin.

You remember turning red at his comment, waving your arms around wildly. You remember the way his eyes creased as he laughed at you, one of the few times you recall seeing him laugh.

So what if you had heart eyes for your best friend’s older brother? It was harmless, just a little crush you had formed on the guy you felt had stolen your heart away. Harmless.

At least, it was until the two of you grew older. You started junior high, you started puberty , and as your body changed, so did his. So did your feelings, morphing from a butterfly crush to something more akin to desire as you began to see him in a different light.

He lost the baby fat around his face. His eyes had darkened, shoulders broadening. His hair got longer, falling into his boyish, scarred face in a way that rendered you entirely breathless.

He was becoming a man.

You were 13 and 15 now, stealing sneaky glances at him whenever he would pass by his brother’s room. Yuji, who had just been boasting about how he was starting to get taller than you, would pay it no mind.

It was just a crush. He was two years your senior, after all. You had no chance.

You were 13 when he would poke fun at you and his brother. He was 15 when he would laugh at the way your face would go red. He didn’t know that it wasn’t his brother you wanted.

14 and 16 when you first began to notice the subtle slope of his shoulders become more pronounced, more defined. When you began to notice the way his muscles would strain against the sleeves of his tee shirt.

He had always been a large guy, having hit quite a few growth spurts along the way. He had to have been about 5’10 at that point, practically towering over you. But lately, you thought he must have been hitting the gym. He would walk past Yuji’s open door – and in their house it was a family policy to leave the door open when you came over, even if Yuji was only a brother to you – with gym gear on. He would come back with sweat-slicked hair plastered to his forehead, chest rising and falling steadily.

Something about that made your hormones go wild for him. Inappropriate thoughts began to chew away at you from the inside, images of what he could do to you with such strength, even if you weren’t too certain what ‘doing’ even entailed at that time. The scent of his pheromones, something like that – or maybe it was the way his gym clothes hugged his body while he marched towards the bathroom to take a shower – it made you feral for him.

He was so much bigger than you now. It made your head spin with feelings you didn’t quite understand. It was just a crush… so why did you stay awake at night imagining him panting over you, sweat trickling down his bare chest? The way his muscles might ripple under your hesitant, inexperienced touch? The warmth that would bloom over your face when you imagined his lips on yours – this man who you had never gotten close to.

A man who you remembered having a late night conversation with in the kitchen while Yuuji slept right down the hall one night.

He was ransacking the cabinet for snacks when you found him. He relaxed once he’d noticed it was you, the two of you eventually falling into sugar-fueled conversation after he cracked open a pack of double-stuff oreos. A conversation about the taboo , about the things you had been told to keep quiet.

“You don’t have to be all flustered ‘round me, y’know,” He had told you rather softly. The two of you were separated by the kitchen island, but it felt like he was way to close to you. “You can ask me anything you’re curious about.”

“I’m not curious!” You had whisper-shouted back with a roll of your eyes. “I don’t want to know about your sex life, you whore.”

“You just asked me what it felt like, liar,” He noted, quirking a brow at your outward reaction. He loved to get under your skin. Lived for it. “And for the record, I’m not a whore. Most of the times I’ve been touched have been with my own hand.”

“I’ve never tried… that, ” You mused quietly, head low. Your face burned with the heat of your admission.

He popped an oreo into his mouth, dusting his hands off carelessly. “What, masturbating?”

Your heart did a weak somersault. “Quiet!” You hissed at him. “Now what if Yuuji heard you talking to me like that?”

“Calm your shit,” he told you. “You’re too young f’me. Relax.”

He only chuckled at your words, shaking his head quietly while he resealed the oreos. Still, if he was thinking anything about your reaction, he didn’t voice it. You were glad.

But it hurt. It hurt, hearing him talk about you like you didn’t have a chance. Like none of the effort you put into your appearance around him had any effect on him because you were too young to steal his attention away. None of it mattered – the push up bras, the low cut tanks, the cherry lip balm.

In his eyes, you were only a kid.

“I’m a virgin,” you had blurted out, for some odd reason you still didn’t quite understand.

The pause that befell the two of you was one that you remembered years later.

“I can tell,” He had said, slim waist swinging side to side as he walked around the kitchen island, towards the exit behind you. He sauntered over to you with a smirk on his face and a plate in his hand, dark hair pulled back into a bun while his layers fell around his face. He was breathtaking, handsome, tantalizing build towering over you.

16, A man whose voice had dropped again in the last few months whispered those words, the ones you would never forget, “‘S fun. You should try it.”

You didn’t know what he had wanted you to try – having sex or performing it on yourself.

Either way, that night when you went home was the first time you ever tried to touch yourself. Fantasized about him whispering in your ear, holding you down, talking you through – while your pink-manicured fingers worked you up to your first orgasm.

Two years had never felt so far apart.

Choso had a girlfriend at one point. It was only for, like, four months – he was 17, you were 15. You only found this out when he’d come home after a pretty rough night with her. He looked pissed, lips pressed into a thin line, arms crossed over his broad chest.

You knew he was too old for you, that you weren’t old enough for him, more specifically – but, still, you batted those lashes of yours up at him while you asked him what was wrong.

You didn’t tell him about the way butterflies erupted in your stomach like a hundred angry guisers when he told you his girlfriend had cheated, left him for another man.

You hugged him instead, telling him that it would be alright, telling him that she never deserved him anyway. You were the one for him, and one day he would see that.

Instead of turning to you – who had been right there all along, he had just been too blind to notice – he took his anger out on everyone else. He became cold, emotionally closed off. He became a serial heartbreaker.

For a while, whenever you came over to Yuuji’s, his bedroom would be vacant. Open, dark, just as he had left it. For a while, he would spend his nights with faceless hookups and meaningless dates. Itadori would call you to complain about it, about how “we’re home alone for dinner tonight and Choso just walked out”.

Your heart broke, too. He just didn’t know it.

He didn’t know you were waiting for him to come to his senses, for him to see you as a woman .

You were seated in the kitchen across from Itadori enjoying another late-night snack, sharing some hearty laughter. You had always adored your conversations with him, the ‘After-Hours’ talks, as you would often refer to them.

Your night had taken an unexpected turn when Itadori’s brother burst through the kitchen door with a giggling girl in tow. The late hour suggested that this was no ordinary visit.

Still, even though you couldn’t pry your eyes away from her, you didn’t say anything. You stayed quiet while your heart shattered into one hundred million pieces inside of your tight chest.

Itadori’s laughter had died down, giving way to an awkward silence. He greeted his brother with a smile, “Hey, bro. Who’s she?”

Choso shrugged, dark hair shifting over his eyes that seemed to glint beneath the dim lighting as he replied, “Company.”

His mischievous tone and the girl at his side left little to the imagination. Your cheeks flushed as you exchanged another quick glance with Itadori.

You felt frozen in place. You couldn’t move. No, all you could do was sit there like a dumbass and stare at him, watch the man you loved liked guide her by her hand up the stairs.

Of course. You had been naive to think that he would wait for you. He would be 18 next year.

He was out of your league.

Feeling the need for a momentary escape, you had excused yourself, muttering something about needing to use the bathroom. You had stood up, heart racing, and made your way up the stairs and towards the bathroom.

Conveniently, of course, it was located just down the hall from Choso’s room.

You crept down the hall slowly. As you passed by his door, you caught a sound. Something unmistakable – two people in hushed conversation uttering words in between kisses.

“Choso, baby.”

Another quiet kiss. Their lips separated.

“I’m ready.”

“You brought protection?”

Your embarrassment grew as you realized the intimate nature of the encounter happening on the other side of the door. Quickly, you averted your gaze, face burning, and ran off to the bathroom.

It took you a moment to catch your breath. You couldn’t believe the awkwardness of the whole situation. Shit, you didn’t even know how to approach him after this.

Worst of all, you didn’t even know why you were still only able to imagine it was your voice behind that door instead of hers. That it was him pressing butterfly kisses to your lips. Him asking you if you were ready for him.

With your cheeks tinged a rosey hue, you resolved to keep yourself locked away in the bathroom until the thoughts subsided.

It seemed like it was a new girl every time you came to visit. A blonde, a brunette – he didn’t seem to have a preference. Every time you would watch him walk another girl to the front door, bidding her safe travels on her way home, your hope would wither away.

But the feelings never subsided. No, even when you would spend a little more time walking past his room on your way to the bathroom to eavesdrop. Not even when you would hear hushed whispers and quiet moans from the other side and imagine what kind of lover Choso would be. Would he leave marks? Talk dirty to you? Was he a giver or a taker?

Not even when the two of you would cross paths in the kitchen after his plans for the evening went home. He would turn to you with a knowing smirk, hair down and messy even though it did nothing to hide the red and purple love bites that littered the valley of his neck.

And he looked so good that you often found yourself wishing it was you who had left those marks.

It was as if he knew you were dying inside. Like something was beginning to change inside of him after all of these years. Like he took some strangely cruel pleasure in showing off to you.

No, you would have to remind yourself in vain. I’m too young for him.

You were just a girl in his eyes. That’s what you maintained.

So you went out and retaliated by losing your V-card to some kid from your class. Well, in your head it was retaliation. He was none the wiser about it, but it gave you a sense of satisfaction knowing you were able to fuck people who weren’t him.

Take that, Choso.

Yuji groaned, laying spread eagle over his carpeted floor, arms spread out on either side of him. He had grown so much – you could hardly contain the way your eyes wandered from his pretty face to his new physique. Like his brother, Itadori was a well-defined man.

God picked favorites, and it wasn’t you.

There was an open notebook splayed over his face. He gripped the spine, tossing it to the side.

“I’m over this chemistry shit,” He sighed.

You couldn’t possibly have agreed more. Still, you continued to sketch the rough outline of a circle onto the sheet of construction paper in your hand. You would need to make it perfect, just right, so that you would be able to incorporate it into your group project.

You turned the pencil over between your fingertips. “We’re gonna need more supplies.”

"Like what?" Yuuji asked, his frustration still evident. "I’m pretty sure we’ve purchased, like… every craft supply on the market."

You quirked a brow at the thought. "Scissors…?"

Yuuji pursed his lips, his brow furrowing. "I don’t have those."

"Of course you don’t," you sighed, shaking your head. "Who the hell doesn’t have scissors?"

"I lent them to Choso," he retorted with a hint of annoyance.

Your heart dropped at the mention of Choso. You couldn't help but picture his face, his body, and wondered if he was asleep. You didn't want to disturb him.

Yuuji sat up, nudging you with his foot playfully. "Hey, why don't you go over there and get them? Make some goo-goo eyes, bat your lashes. I’m sure he wouldn’t say no to you."

You hesitated for a moment, considering your options. "I'm sure I can find some in my backpack," you said instead, trying to avoid the suggestion.

"Come onnnn, you know you wanna go over there," Yuuji teased with a sly grin. He leaned in closer, cupping his hand around his mouth, and whispered, " He just got back from the gym. "

Another nudge from Yuuji finally made you relent. "Fine," you said with a playful roll of your eyes. "I’ll be back."

Only moments later, you found yourself standing in front of Choso's door, a mix of anticipation and nervousness coursing through you as you raised your hand up to knock. You rapped twice against the wooden surface. There was a shuffling sound on the other side of the world, one that made your heartrate pick up, and then the door cracked open.

He had one earbud in his ear, the other dangling over his chest. He wore a black wife pleaser and some grey sweats that hung loose over his hips – leaving little to the imagination. He looked so strong, muscular arm braced against the doorframe while the other held it open. His waist was thin, toned, so much so that you could see it through the fabric of his shirt.

He smelled like he had just hopped out of the shower – like cherry and musk. His wet hair was done back into a messy bun. His eyes raked over your trembling form.

With a gentle, familiar grin, he said, “What’s up?”

Your throat felt dry. You swallowed anyway, with a great deal of discomfort, averting your wide-eyed gaze. Ignoring the way your eyes lingered over the pale skin of his toned navel revealed where his tank had ridden up, over the v line that dipped down into his waistband, over the neatly trimmed trail that led down south .

“Do… Do you have scissors?” You asked him. You didn’t like how timid you sounded, or the way your stomach churned at the sight of him.

He paused for a moment, and somehow you knew he was looking at you. You were suddenly very glad you had worn a fitted v-neck tee shirt today, one that would have provided him with a bird’s eye view of your cleavage.

He’s looking at me.

“Yeah,” he muttered quietly, stepping away from the door and into his room. You had only wandered into Choso’s quarters a few times with Yuuji, usually to steal something from him while he wasn’t home. You had never really taken the time to notice the band posters taped up over his walls, the black sheets on his bed, the clothes scattered over his floor in typical teenage boy fashion.

You poked your head in, taking a quick look around while his muscular back was turned. Ultimately, it was him you wound up gawking at, hungry eyes following the well-defined curve of his back into his slim waist, the curve of his bubble butt.

You looked away just as he had turned around. If he noticed you staring, he didn’t say anything. A red pair of scissors dangled from his curled finger.

“Here,” was all he said, offering the tool to you.

You didn’t know when conversations between the two of you had gotten to be so tense, so strained. It used to come effortlessly. These days, however, it seemed as if you were always trying to run away from conversation with him.

You took it from him gently, dying a bit more inside when his large fingers brushed against yours, offering a slight nod in return. “Thanks.”

16 and 18, now.

You had texted Choso asking for his help on a particularly difficult math assignment. He was older, after all, you didn’t doubt that he was better equipped to complete the homework than you were.

That was the first time you had ever hung out alone with him. Without Itadori.

You would never forget the way the atmosphere changed when he sat close to you at the kitchen table. The way your skin prickled with electricity beneath his hesitant touch. He poked fun at you and your incompetence. You didn’t even care, not when he was sitting so close to you.

Alone.

The possibilities that filled your mind were less than holy.

Tensions were at an all time high. He had leaned over to help you, breath ghosting over the shell of your ear, when it finally snapped.

When you met his gaze with uncertainty in your eyes, making no real effort to put any distance between you and the man you had been pining after for so many years. In that moment, you saw it – saw him, saw that he finally looked at you as something more than just a girl.

Saw the way his gaze softened as he leaned into you. You let him get closer, close enough that his nose brushed against the tip of yours.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” You remarked, even though you ached to be trapped in this moment with him a while longer.

He licked his lips, murmuring, “You’re probably right.”

Nothing compared to the delicate brush of his lips against yours as the two of you finally met in the middle, The way fireworks blew up in your gut. The way he cradled your cheek gently in the palm of his hand, crossing that unspoken boundary that the two of you had been toeing for so long.

Though you had made out with a few guys before, in your eyes, you had shared your first kiss with Choso in the kitchen that night. The first of many to come .

The summer between 16 and 17 was spent sharing secret moments with him behind doors, between appearances.

You sat on the couch next to Itadori, trapped in the second installment of a film series the two of you had been watching yesterday. You were wearing a zip-up hoodie over your school uniform.

You had come over to do homework. Just like yesterday, though, you wound up fucking around.

Itadori was far too engrossed in whatever was happening on screen to notice his brother leaving the kitchen just a few feet off to the side. He looked you up and down, dark eyes reaching into your soul and picking you apart at the seams. With a barely noticeable motion, he nodded towards the stairs.

You nodded back, heart thrumming wildly in your chest.

Choso gripped the meat of your ass in his hands, throwing your legs around his waist while his mouth danced against yours. You tossed your arms around his shoulders, head reeling from how effortlessly he had picked you up. He walked the two of you backwards until your back hit the door.

He continued to ravage you against that surface, too, tongue slipping in between your lips and exploring your mouth. You trembled against him, trying your best to keep up with him.

It felt so good – being pressed up against him, being given his attention. You wished it was more than secret kisses here and there, of course, but you would take what you could get.

“Missed you,” he hummed against your lips.

You didn’t even care if that was the line he used on all of the other girls. In that moment, all that mattered was his lips against yours, his hands on you, his attention.

You snaked your hands up the back of his neck and into his hair, twisting some of the dark strands between your fingertips. “I should really get back soon,” You gasped, relishing in the way his kisses felt up and down your neck.

He relented, letting you down. You pressed one more chaste kiss to his lips.

“Didn’t mean to keep ‘ya,” he chuckled lowly, breaths still heavy from the makeout session you had been having only seconds before. He nodded towards the door behind you. “Get back out there.”

You nodded wordlessly, opening the door. With one final smile, you slipped behind it. You felt like you were floating as your legs carried you down the stairs and into the living room. You didn’t even care how disheveled you looked.

Thankfully, Yuuji didn’t notice the way you were wiping your mouth on the back of your hand as you plopped onto the couch beside him. He also didn’t notice when his brother wandered down the stairs a few minutes later, or the way he smiled knowingly at you before disappearing into the kitchen.

You were 17 when Choso left for college. He was 19 when his brother had thrown him a going-away party.

There were 10 of you in the living room, a few of Yuuji and his childhood friends all gathered around the coffee table. A movie was on. Some of them were engrossed in a card game in the corner of the room.

You and Choso lingered behind the group, situated comfortably on the couch behind all of the action. He was sitting so close that your thighs brushed against his, so close that it felt like he, too, wanted to savor the moment before interacting with you became a rarity. Before he moved out and started a new life somewhere hours away.

He didn’t voice any of these feelings, keeping his dark eyes unreadable and steady on the movie that Yuji had put on in the background. Selena Gomez was playing from a speaker somewhere behind the couch.

You almost wanted to lean your head on his shoulder. Almost. Never mind the fact that everyone would see it.

You distinctly remember the way he shifted closer to you when you pulled out a blanket. You let him make the bold move, seemingly unfazed by the potential audience only feet away from the two of you.

He tossed the plush blanket over his legs. The lights were dim. Dim enough that they wouldn’t see the way your face flushed at the proximity.

Sixteen minutes passed. You felt like you were going to explode.

Somewhere along the way, though it’s all a bit fuzzy now, you remember feeling his hand creep down beneath the blanket to rest on your thigh. You fought to remain composed, even though the darkness undoubtedly shrouded whatever it was that Choso was planning to do.

He lingered over the skin on your thighs left bare by the shorts you had chosen to wear. His finger traced over you, igniting fire in your nerves. Again, you said nothing, letting him go about tracing shapes on your thigh while his face remained stoic and composed.

You glanced between him and the blanket. You couldn’t see the imprint of his hand moving, somehow, but you could practically feel the heat radiating from beneath it when his index finger slipped between your thighs.

19 years old. Two years had never seemed so far apart. When he was the age you were now, you recalled his voice being quite a few pitches higher. The same voice that had dropped even lower over the last year, now drawing you closer to him as he murmured into your ear, “Can I touch you?”

Parting your legs infinitesimally, you wordlessly granted him entrance. His fingers dipped down, ghosting over your cotton panties in a way that had you wondering how well of a disguise the dim lighting really was.

“What if they see us?” You had whispered back, even quieter. None of them had bothered to turn back. Even still, you wondered if one of them had X-Ray vision.

His voice seemed even deeper as it vibrated against your side. “You’ll be quiet for me, won’t you?”

The moment his fingers dipped beneath the waistband of your panties, you knew you were in no position to disagree.

Yuuji and his friends were none the more wiser. Yuji didn’t notice when you whined quietly, letting him slip two fingers into your aching cunt, or when his brother worked you open on his fingers.

He didn’t notice when the two of you had left to make out heatedly in the pantry, right against the box of assorted chips, right where anyone could walk in, turn on the light, and see you there pressed up against him disappeared to the pantry for ten minutes.

Though the moment you returned to see him glancing at you with a curious brow raised, you knew he had finally caught on. Even if he didn’t say anything about it.

It would be another three months before you would see Choso again.

I obviously do not own jjk or anything related to it. please do not reproduce, copy, or translate my works anywhere. dont fk w me im a bruja.

taglist: @missphanosaur18 ,

wanna join the ' choso kamo ' taglist?| bfb; chapter index

#notiddygxthgf ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚#choso kamo #kamo choso #choso #choso jjk #choso x reader #choso kamo xreader #choso kamo x you #choso x you #chousou #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #yuuji itadori #itadori x reader #geto x reader #gojo x reader #choso smut #choso fluff

1K notes · View notes

retrievablememories · 11 months

Text

cherry bomb | part 2 | jungkook (m)

pairing: jungkook x fem reader

summary: after your town goes into lockdown because of the cherry bomb massacre, you find out that the murderer's interest is on you. eventually, you’re left with no choice but to face him.

genre: horror/slasher, angst, smut, college!au

word count: 13.7k

warnings: major character deaths, gaslighting, hallucinations, anxiety/paranoia, grief, trauma, violence (including knife and gun use), torture, blood, gore, descriptions of dead bodies, a funeral scene, fuckboy!JK, oral (fem receiving), fingering, finger-sucking, handjob, cumplay(?), hair-pulling

a/n: this part is quite rougher than the first, so heed the warnings. same notes as the last part—not meant to be entirely realistic since this *is* a slasher. block/filter as needed. i didn’t mention this in part 1 but this fic is not set in present day; more like somewhere in the 2000s? i don’t think this fic would work as well with all this advanced technology/the prevalence of social media now

...also, i had this story all written out and then decided to completely change the plot at the last minute because i figured out a way to write the original plot i had wanted to do from the beginning. 💀 yeah…just leave your thoughts below

taglist is at the very bottom of the fic—for some reason i wasn't able to tag everyone who requested, so please reblog this fic so folks can see it

sources for the fic dividers: one | two

link to part 1

you’re standing in front of some stranger’s house in the early hours of the morning, your body heavy from exhaustion as your adrenaline has run out. this is not at all how you expected your night to end when you left your dorm hours ago. it must’ve taken at least 40 minutes to get to this house, and you’re less familiar with this part of town, which you try not to feel uneasy about. you suppose the farther away from the scene of the carnage, the better.

jungkook bangs on the door, calling out the name yoongi-hyung until the porch light comes on. though it’s illogical, you’re tense with apprehension that the murderer could somehow appear at any moment, and you hope whoever yoongi is lets the both of you in soon. so much for no longer looking over your shoulder.

a man with hair just as long as jungkook’s answers the door, looking disheveled and annoyed. “why the fuck are you banging down my door at nearly 2 am—"

yoongi stops speaking as he eyes the both of you up and down, his gaze going from the bite mark bruises you left on jungkook’s neck to the dried blood on your face to the bullet holes in jungkook’s car. his expression is between surprise and curiosity. “what the fuck is going on here?”

“can we talk inside?” jungkook says, though he doesn’t wait for an invitation before pushing his way past the other man and stepping inside.

“uh…hi. sorry.” you step inside too, glad to not be out in the open anymore.

yoongi takes another look outside the door at the state of jungkook’s car before closing and locking it. “mind explaining this shit? i thought you were going to that party you told me about?

“i did,” jungkook says, his voice full of frustration. “the fucking killer showed up at the party.”

“the fuck are you talking about?”

“you know what i’m talking about. that werewolf-masked freak? he came and just started stabbing people to death. we watched him shoot a fraternity member in front of us, dude. that’s why my car looks the way it does.”

“the campus is probably dangerous,” you add. “that’s why we came here. we just need somewhere safe to stay for the night.”

yoongi goes to the window and draws back the curtain. he peeks out the small holes in the side of the blinds rather than pushing the blinds down to look outside. “and you’re certain he didn’t follow you here? i thought he only killed virgins anyway. why the hell was he shooting at you?” then yoongi turns away from the window and looks at you. “oh. is this why?”

feeling put on the spot, you blurt out: “look, i don’t think that matters much anymore. he seemed to be killing anybody who was in his way.”

“and he was on foot the whole time, so there’s no way he could’ve followed us,” jungkook adds.

yoongi shakes his head and walks away from the window. “whole town is fucked, then. come on.”

you’re relieved to be able to scrub the blood off your face and change into fresh clothes. you initially thought it was peculiar that yoongi had spare clothes ready for you to wear until he alluded to keeping them on hand for any of jungkook’s hookups that he brings over.

“sure—of course.” you’d just nodded and tried not to look embarrassed as you accepted the clothes.

even after showering you don’t feel entirely clean, though. you think it might be impossible to return to feeling anything like your former self after tonight.

the couch has a pull-out bed, so it’s not as uncomfortable as it would be just sleeping on a regular sofa, which you are grateful for. you’re still arranging the pillow and blankets when jungkook walks into the room holding his own bedding.

“i think i should sleep here,” he says.

“there’s no room on the couch for the both of us,” you protest, thinking he means to take your spot.

“i mean on the floor. earlier, you didn’t seem like you wanted to be left alone in here.”

“oh.” you try to take the edge out of your voice; it’s hard to be polite when you’re still so overwhelmed with stress. “that’ll be uncomfortable though.”

jungkook just waves his hand and dumps his pillow and blanket on the floor before going to push the coffee table out of the way. “doesn’t really matter, i think we’ve been through worse tonight than sleeping on a hard floor…”

“thanks,” you say quietly, watching him spread his blanket out on the ground. you want to say something else, but you can’t think of anything.

“it’s fine, don’t worry about it.”

after a few more moments of staring at jungkook as he arranges his sleeping area, you finally ask, “i was wondering how’d you meet yoongi? he doesn’t seem like he’s a college student. i’ve never seen him around our campus, at least.”

“he isn’t. he works as a music producer, so he’s out of town a lot, but this is his homebase. as for how we met—it’s a long story. he and my brother actually used to know each other, so…” you think he’ll explain further, but he just shakes his head. “but he’s a good friend.”

“i see. a music producer…nice. how cool for a little town like this.”

after everything is to his liking, jungkook gets under the blanket. “tonight was a lot, so try to get some sleep.”

you nod and turn the lamp off, though you’re doubting you’ll get any peace tonight. “yeah…you too.”

SATURDAY MORNING, NOV 4

you wake up around 11 a.m. on a strange couch wearing strange clothes in a strange room. with your brain’s half-conscious state, your terror reawakens; you think maybe you’ve been kidnapped by the murderer and the car ride with jungkook last night was a dream—until yoongi pops into your mind.

you try to regulate your breathing and settle back beneath the blanket, though you know you won’t be going back to sleep.

you haven’t gotten more than an hour of sleep in total, broken up into 20-minute intervals across the hours. every time you’ve tried to close your eyes and drift off, you see the frat member’s skull bursting apart again, shocking your entire nervous system. you can think of nothing but the piles of bodies and the deaths you witnessed. perhaps it’s better that you don’t sleep; you figure your dreams wouldn’t be any more tolerable than your thoughts.

as you shift around on the couch, your whole body screams with soreness. your arms, your ribs, your sides, your legs, and—to a lesser extent—even between your thighs where jungkook was last night.

you glance over and see that he’s still sprawled on the floor, blanket halfway kicked off. he’s actually awake, his face turned away from you as he blinks slowly and stares at nothing, but he doesn’t say anything and so neither do you. with you spending most of your night awake, you saw that he was able to get more rest than you did. lucky him.

it hurts to move, but you reach for your phone and check for any signs of lorelai. none. there is one text from camille, sent 40 minutes ago.

➤ camille: I talked to Lorelai’s sister. She went to go see about a missing persons report. The police took her information but didn’t seem very concerned about it and said she might have just stayed the night with other friends after the party. Apparently a lot of others had the same idea as you. Campus is a ghost town. They’re still identifying all the bodies, so no word yet.

➤ y/n: so we just have to sit here and wait to see if she’ll turn up alive or dead? that’s useless.

➤ camille: As per fucking usual with the pigs.

➤ camille: She also told me there’s supposed to be a lockdown or something. It’s on the news.

➤ y/n: a lockdown???

looking around the room, you spot the TV remote sitting on yoongi’s coffee table a few feet away. you try to sit up, but it takes you a couple minutes longer than you anticipate because of the pain. jungkook notices the movement from the corner of his eye and turns to look at you. “what are you doing?”

“tryna get the remote.”

jungkook grabs it and hands it to you, and you turn the TV to one of the local news channels.

➤ camille: They’re telling people not to leave their homes for anything non-essential while they search for him. Not sure how long that’s supposed to last. I guess now they wanna get serious about this fucking killer? Too late for that.

you and jungkook watch as the newscaster gives a rundown of last night’s events; to your small relief, it looks like the killer didn’t try to go to the campus after the murders at the party house. the newscaster goes on to announce that the police are instating a citywide curfew, which they’ll discuss further at a press conference in the afternoon. in the meantime, they advise everyone to only travel in groups, shelter in place if possible, and keep all windows and doors locked.

you laugh humorlessly, and jungkook glances at you again. “in groups? we were all packed into one damn house at the party, and how much did that help?”

➤ y/n: are you sure you’re okay at the uni?

➤ camille: I’m fine. My roommate brought some of her friends into our room so no one’s left alone. Either way, my dad is coming to help me move some of my things out and come back home.

➤ y/n: okay, please just stay safe.

➤ camille: You too.

“what now?” jungkook says once the newscast goes off. “everybody just stays holed up for like a month while they hunt for that guy?”

you roll your eyes. “people won’t stay in their homes for that long. i don’t know how any of this is gonna work. we wouldn’t be in this mess now if they’d cared when this first started happening.”

“you think so? students would still be getting killed. the only difference is that a good chunk of people would just be sitting at home freaking the fuck out and too scared to go anywhere while the killer would still be on the loose.”

“…damn. it’s truly bleak to assume we’d still be in the same situation. you’re an optimistic one.”

“better than deluding yourself about it.”

“whatever. where’s your family to freak out over you? somebody should be concerned about your whereabouts by now. didn’t you say you have a brother? speaking of, i’m gonna have to call my sister soon…”

jungkook turns back to the TV, and you can tell he’s become more tense than he was seconds ago. “yeah, but i’m estranged from them. yoongi’s my family.”

wrong thing to ask. you wonder about the reason for it but decide it’s probably better not to pry. “ah…that sucks.”

jungkook looks back at you like he’s irked by that response, but he makes a noise resembling a chuckle. “tell me about it.”

later that afternoon, after you’ve reassured your sister veronica on her work break that you are fine and at a “friend’s” house (because you have no clue how to refer to either of these men), you and yoongi sit at the kitchen table with brunch while jungkook goes outside to examine the damage to his car more closely.

it’s difficult to eat, but you do so anyway; you don’t want to be rude by wasting the food yoongi made. the news station still plays loudly from the living room as you wait for the press conference to come on.

“so, about you and jungkook...” yoongi starts, looking at you from over the rim of his cup of coffee.

“what about me and jungkook?”

“we both know he didn’t get those bites on his neck from a wild animal attack.”

you sit up straighter in your seat, a sudden spike of irritation hitting you. “aren’t we all grown here? who cares?” you try to sound unbothered despite feeling very green about all of this. after all, you’d only had sex for the first time last night.

“look, i don’t care. fuck him all you want. i’m just trying to advise you not to get emotionally involved, because that’s not how jungkook operates. the amount of girls i’ve had somehow coming after my neck when their situationship with him doesn’t work out is starting to get really old. it’d be best if you didn’t do the same.”

you’re simultaneously annoyed at his assumption of you and flustered because you want to prove him wrong about acting the same as the other girls. you hate both feelings. “i don’t want anything like that with him. i just needed something done and i got it. it doesn’t matter anymore.”

yoongi shrugs, and you get the sense he’s heard that before and isn’t convinced, but you can’t be bothered going back and forth with him about this.

the press conference comes on TV a few minutes later. they announce that classes at your university are cancelled indefinitely; parents and relatives will need to come move their students out, and the school will be operating with a skeleton staff and increased security presence for any students who can’t leave the campus. the citywide curfew will be at 8 p.m. every night, by which time almost everyone will need to be in their homes, and it will end at 6 a.m each morning.

“fun,” you say sarcastically. “at least i won’t have to worry about finals and trying not to get murdered at the same time.”

when jungkook comes back inside, you let him know about what he missed from the press conference.

“we should just stay here for now.” when you raise your eyebrows, jungkook says, “i basically live here when i’m not on campus for classes. plus yoongi-hyung lets me bring girls here all the time, this is nothing new.”

“if both of you are gonna be hiding out in my place, we’ll need to go to the store,” yoongi says. “more mouths to feed.”

“…or i could just go home?” you propose, your mind reeling at them already making plans. you feel awkward about staying in a stranger’s house for who knows how long. “i think we only really needed to stay here for the night. it’s fine.”

“will you have people there with you?” jungkook asks. “it’s not safe to be alone.”

you’re surprised he seems to be this concerned, but you answer: “well, i mean…my sister works 12-hour shifts as a nurse and she’s the only one living there, so…” you’d chosen your university because your older sister lived in the area, and because it was a tradition for women in your family to attend that school, but there were no other relatives you could turn to. your parents lived a couple of towns away.

yoongi comes to the conclusion so you don’t have to. “in other words, you’ll be alone most of the day.”

“…i guess. but i’m really not tryna impose on you by staying here.”

yoongi tilts his head, a small smirk on his lips. you automatically dislike the look on his face. “why don’t you take jungkook with you, then?”

you and jungkook glance at each other. “but, hyung…”

yoongi shakes his head. “you already know i can take care of myself. seriously, don’t worry about it.” and then yoongi winks at you. you don’t know for sure, but you take that to mean he’s probably packing heat like camille’s dad.

“if you’re sure.” turning to you, jungkook says, “so, how about it?”

“it’s my sister’s house, so i’ll have to ask her,” you say tentatively. “yeah…uh. let me do that now, i guess.” you pull out your phone to text her about it, though you know it’ll be a while before she gets another work break and can answer. “in the meantime…i think we’ll need to go to the store either way. and then to campus to pick our things up.”

“you’re right. let’s go then,” jungkook says.

the store is full of people panic-buying food and necessities in preparation for the curfew and effective lockdown, which you expected. you and jungkook end up going your separate ways to find the things you need because it’s quicker that way, and because you want to get in and out of the store as soon as possible. the crowdedness is too much like the party, and despite yourself, anxiety begins rising in you due to the claustrophobic atmosphere. you try to maintain even breaths as you keep searching for items. just what you need—a shiny new trauma to make your life harder.

you pass by a man in one of the less-crowded aisles before realizing he’s standing in front of what you need to get, examining one of the food packages. you wait a few moments to see if he’ll finish up soon, and when your eyes begin to wander, you see that there’s a long gray hair clinging to the back of his leather jacket, standing out clearly against the black. you probably wouldn’t have noticed this at all on any other day, except your mind has been on high alert for hours now; you find it strange that this strand clearly doesn’t match the shade or length of the hair on his head, which is short and plain brown. the shade of the hair also weirdly reminds you of something, though you can’t quite recall what; it remains just out of your mind’s reach.

you shake your head. he could’ve come to the store with somebody who has long gray hair, or hugged them before he left home, and a strand stuck to his jacket. it’s the least of your issues right now.

the man must feel your presence behind him because he turns around to look at you. you’re a little taken aback by his gaze; his expression isn’t mean per se, but very intense, as if his entire focus is trained on you.

there’s a second’s pause, like he’s thinking about something before he speaks. “am i in your way?” he asks, never breaking eye contact. his voice doesn’t portray any particular emotion.

“i just have to get something really quick.” he steps aside and gestures to the rows of food without a word. you slip in beside him and grab what you need before moving away again. “thanks.” you think about telling him about the hair on his jacket but decide against it; your decision is solidified when you spot a wolf figurine keychain on his keys, faded from time but still distinguishable. it makes your breath catch.

there’s no way it could be him. it was kind of dark in the party house with nothing but string lights and lamps illuminating it, and everything happened so quickly…but you do remember the colors of that mask. red, yellow, black—and that dark gray for the fur.

but maybe it’s really all just a coincidence; how much sense would it make to turn every person with wolf paraphernalia and random stray hairs into a suspect?

you walk down the rest of the aisle and away from the man with growing unease. maybe it’s time to find jungkook so you can get out of here; you can hardly keep yourself together, and despite your best attempts at logic, you can’t stop yourself from getting more frantic about those two things.

speeding up your walk and weaving through people, you look down every aisle in search for jungkook before you find him, rushing over to him as you breathe heavily.

“whoa, what the hell is wrong? did somebody do something?”

“no, i…”

“what happened?”

“it’s the…well, the…i saw, uh…”

“y/n.”

“i saw—the mask. the fur from the mask. do you remember it?”

“…you mean that stupid ass werewolf mask?” you gesture for jungkook to lower his voice. “wait, you’re saying you saw it in here?”

“no, i saw a man who had a strand of hair on his jacket…” it starts sounding ridiculous to your own ears the more you speak, but you continue. “the strand—it was the same color as that fur. the same length! and he—he had some weird wolf keychain…”

jungkook stares at you for a long moment before sighing. “you’re not serious? a random strand of hair that could be from anybody or anything? that could be from someone’s fucking grandma for all we know. plus a keychain…maybe he just likes wolves, y/n.”

you already know that saying i just feel like something is off won’t be enough to convince him. you sigh with a deep sense of defeat, considering that he’s probably right. maybe your initial assumption was the more sensible answer. “…right. i think i’m just really fucked up right now after everything that happened. can we finish up here?”

“yeah, we will. because you definitely need to lay down soon or something. you haven’t had any sleep all night, right?” the way jungkook eyes you with concern as if you’ve lost your mind annoys you. you’re about to give a smart remark when you notice something in the carrying-basket he has.

“…a baseball bat?”

“if the killer comes after us again, duh. we’ll be prepared this time. or at least i will.”

“good luck with that if he happens to have another gun.” rolling your eyes, you brush past jungkook to go to one of the checkout counters.

in the parking lot, you see that the man from earlier has also come out and is putting the last of his grocery bags into his car trunk. there’s really nothing spectacular about his appearance that would make him stand out in a crowd, with his average height and average looks, let alone incriminate him as a serial killer. yet that familiar unease won’t leave.

he sees you and jungkook walking towards the car together, and his eyes dart to the bullet holes in jungkook’s car. then he makes eye contact with you. you give a half-hearted wave, unsure what else to do with his eyes stuck on you. for a moment, his lips turn up into the faintest smile before he shakes his head and gets into his own car.

MONDAY, NOV 6

you’ve spent half of saturday and all of sunday trying to get used to living in your sister’s house with jungkook. veronica had been surprisingly okay with having him stay over, though most of it was her being relieved you finally found “a potential boyfriend who’s actually cute.” you didn’t have the energy to argue with her.

you’ve also been constantly checking on camille (to her eventual annoyance) and seeing if there are any more updates on lorelai. still nothing. your dread grows the further away you get from that bloody friday, but you try to keep your thoughts from straying too darkly.

right now, you, veronica, and jungkook all sit on the couch together in a neat little row, a bowl of popcorn in front of you on the coffee table and some science-fiction B-movie playing on the TV. your sister proposed the idea to distract yourselves from everything going on, but so far, you feel like it isn’t very effective. at least not for you. your mind keeps wandering to other things every 5 minutes.

eventually, veronica yawns widely, stretching her arms and legs before rising off the couch. “okay, i’m getting tired as fuck. i need to go to sleep for work tomorrow anyway. you guys enjoy the rest of the movie, okay?” she pats your shoulder as she passes by you on her way out of the room.

jungkook waves. “oh, sure. goodnight.”

“night, sis.”

when jungkook’s attention goes back to the movie, your sister makes eye contact with you and points her finger at you menacingly. you give her a shocked look while she mouths you know what i mean and swirls her finger in jungkook’s direction. embarrassed at the implication, you roll your eyes and turn your head back to the TV screen. having sex with jungkook on your sister’s couch is not high on your list of priorities tonight.

after your sister is gone, jungkook spreads out on the couch like it’s his own living room, placing his legs right over your lap. you sigh, looking over at him—and hoping that your eyes don’t linger too obviously on the expanse of thigh muscle that’s now on display from his shorts riding up higher.

“…really? i don’t want your big ole legs in my lap.”

jungkook just grins. “you should lay down too, it’s more comfortable this way.” you stare at him, and he tries to egg you on by pulling the sleeve of your shirt. “come on.”

“i’m not laying down on top of you, if that’s what you’re after.”

you do end up lying down, but on the opposite side of the couch so that your legs are tangled together, which really just increases the amount of contact between you either way—but whatever.

this makes jungkook laugh more. “ha, it’s like we’re scissoring.”

“so damn corny.”

you two continue watching the rest of the movie, but by the end of it you don’t remember half of what happened. taking the remote, you flip through the channels and try to find something else to look at. there isn’t much interesting to watch on a random monday night—which would be a school night anyway, if not for the current context.

as you search for a channel, jungkook asks: “what would you do if you found out who the killer was?”

you squint your eyes at his odd question. maybe the obvious answer would be to alert the police. but after days of having your anger stoked like a fire, that’s not exactly the answer you’d choose. “maybe i’d kill him.” the words leave your lips easily, and you hardly think twice about them once they’re out.

neither of you speak for a few long moments.

“does that scare you?” you ask, after the silence starts annoying you. you want to laugh, but there’s nothing really funny about the situation.

“…not really. angry women are kinda sexy. so are dangerous ones.”

you scoff. “i’m not tryna be sexy, you fool. and how many dangerous women have you dealt with? seems to me you only have a thing for the innocents.”

“it’s not like i only fuck virgins. you don’t even know me like that.” he nudges your leg with his foot like he’s also annoyed, but his expression doesn’t show any actual irritation.

“…if you want to go back and forth about it, go outside and argue with the wall or something. i’m in no mood, jungkook.” you shove his foot off of you. “just, holy shit. i wish i could have just one hour where i don’t have to think about any of this shit. my mind can’t even breathe.”

he’s actually quiet for a couple minutes after. you think he’s moved on from the conversation until he finally says, “i can give you an hour.”

your body becomes alert at that. the insinuation in his tone is obvious. you glance backwards as if your sister could hear you from upstairs, though you know that’s illogical. “i got what i wanted from you already,” you whisper.

“so? what if i wanted to give you more? you know you’re allowed to have sex with a person more than once, yeah?” he chuckles.

here he is making you this offer, and once again you feel like you’ve been reduced to the state of a confused lamb in front of a hungry wolf. you realize that the idea of letting yourself get more physically entangled with jungkook scares you. he is not someone you can turn into a boyfriend, who wants to be a boyfriend, and you are only looking to save yourself from any potential hurt. “it would just be sex—right? you have to know i’m not looking for anything deeper from you.”

jungkook smirks. like with yoongi, you don’t know if he believes you. “i know.”

you want to undo almost everything from the past few days. you can’t forget, but for a while, you want to just exist outside of the timeline where there’s a killer on the loose and one of your friends is missing. it’s too much to handle; your body is approaching its limits for the amount of stress it can take. you need a balm to numb the pain and the fear, and you dislike that you are giving into your base instincts to do so. you feel guilty, somehow. but pleasure is easy. at least it has been whenever you sought it on your own—and now you have someone else to give it to you. someone who is in front of you now, proposing it with all the willingness in the world. maybe there’s really nothing wrong with saying yes.

“jungkook…”

“hm?”

“please just shut the fuck up and don’t say another word about the outside world right now. i don’t want to think about anything but your…” you falter, still trying to get used to expressing what you want sexually.

jungkook sits up, his hands sliding up your legs and to your hips. “but my what?”

“um, your…” your thoughts end when he leans down and pulls the hem of your sweater up, planting a kiss on your waist where your skin meets the waistband of your sweatpants. one kiss turns into a second, and a third. the fourth becomes an open-mouthed embrace of his lips on your skin, and you make a small noise of pleasure when his tongue gets involved.

“careful. don’t want veronica to come down here, remember?”

you huff. “that isn’t happening any time soon, believe me.”

his kisses continue as he begins to slide your sweatpants down, revealing the waistband of your panties. once they’re fully on display, he leans forward to nuzzle his face between your thighs, his mouth and nose pressing into the seat of your underwear. his actions take you off guard. you actually give a brief chuckle from surprise, though you are also somewhat embarrassed. “now what the hell are you doing?”

“let me savor my meal before i eat it.” his warm breaths tickle your inner thighs as he speaks.

“ugh, don’t turn me off.”

“that’s funny, because i seem to have an easy time getting you wet.” to prove it, his fingers press into the seat of your underwear to feel the wetness that’s seeped into them; you sigh from the brief pleasure his fingers’ movements afford you before he pulls them away.

jungkook drags your panties down next, his lips trailing down your lower abdomen and across the curls of hair covering your pubic mound. your body fills with anticipation at the gradual pace of his actions and the purposeful, wet caresses of his mouth.

when he uses his thumbs to press your lower lips apart and expose you more fully to him, you have half a mind to be self-conscious about it until he places his mouth on you in earnest.

jungkook eats like someone who hasn’t done so in a while and doesn’t know when he’ll get to do it again. his mouth sucks at your clit like he’s desperate for you to come, tongue rolling over the swollen nub in an unrelenting pattern that has your stomach tensing, and you quickly realize you do have to try to silence yourself even if you know it won’t wake veronica up. you twist your hands into the sleeves of your sweater and lean your head back on the couch’s armrest as you arch your hips up closer to jungkook’s face, uncaring about how vulnerable you feel completely offering yourself up to him like this; right now, all you want is to feel good.

“gonna come quick again? maybe we can set a new record?” jungkook pins your knee against the couch with his elbow to keep your legs open as he slides two fingers inside, diving straight in instead of working you up this time. your body breaks out in a sweat and you know you really won’t last long once he does this, the tips of his fingers aiming for that dreadful, wonderful, and overpowering place inside you. you don’t know how people do this—you feel like you’re going to die when he stimulates that spot, and all you want to do is scream even though you can’t.

“a r-record? fuck off…” you choke out, though you begin to rock your hips into the rhythm of his fingers, needing so badly for him to take you over the edge again.

he chuckles. “i don’t think you want me to fuck off right now.”

you have no words for a good comeback when he buries his head between your legs and slurps at your pussy again and crooks his fingers repeatedly to where your orgasm is unexpectedly rushing down upon you, causing your body to tense as you gasp and stifle any sounds that escape with your sweater sleeve.

jungkook doesn’t stop there and you don’t really expect him to, because you’re beginning to learn he isn’t a one-and-done type of man. he keeps sucking and stroking you right into another releasewhile you push the beanie off his head, fist your fingers into his strands, and tremble over the sight of his pitch-black mess of hair between your thighs. something about the visual is so appealing to you.

after he has made you come for the third time, you watch him sit up on his knees to reach into his shorts and pull his dick out, his darkened tip slick with precum. his long hair falls into his face as he glances downward, using the hand he’d been fingering you with to lube himself up with your cum.

“come here,” you tell him, your voice coming out sharper than you intended; but he doesn’t care, because he follows your request without a word and presses himself into your side. the couch is just big enough to accommodate both of you in this position, but it’s still a tight fit, and your bodies are once again tangled together.

“let me touch you,” you say, your palm pressed to his stomach, feeling the firmness of the muscle.

he raises his eyebrows, like you didn’t even need to ask. “of course.”

“no, i mean…” he realizes what you actually mean as you brush his hand away from his shaft and wrap your fingers around it instead.

“should i teach you how?” jungkook brings his hand to overlap yours, though his breath becomes a bit strained when you slide your hand to the base of his cock and back to the tip again, the pads of your fingers rubbing over the sensitive head. seeing your fingers around him turns him on more than he thought it could, and it’s just a simple fucking handjob.

you roll your eyes. “stroking a dickshouldn’t be that hard.”

“everyone likes it differently, though. fast, slow, soft, or rough…just the tip, or the whole shaft.” you can’t deny that—or the way you find yourself throbbing at his words, his voice husky from the pleasure. which is why you let jungkook close his hand more fully around yours and guide your movements.

it’s captivating to observe his reactions from your hand on his skin—the heavy breaths he lets out and the soft moans and even softer whimpers that come in between the exhales. whenever you squeeze his shaft more firmly or rub your thumb against his leaking tip, you find yourself grinning at the rise and fall of his chest and the tongue that darts out of his mouth to lick at his lips. but mostly, your eyes are drawn back to the sight of your hand working him over, his thighs and stomach tensing sporadically.

eventually, you both look away from your joined hands and at each other’s faces. your eyes dart to his lips and back to his gaze again, and you shift your face forward to signal your desire for a kiss. he meets you there by pressing his lips to yours, and it isn’t hard for him to get lost in the meeting of your mouths and the heat from your palm on his shaft.

your free hand returns to his soft hair to tug on it as your tongues slide against each other. he grunts at the burn of his roots being pulled but doesn’t stop you; on the contrary, his body responds favorably as more precum swells from his tip and his nipples poke against the material of his shirt.

“do you like that, jungkook?” you mumble against his mouth.

“you know i do.” at some point, his hand falls away and he lets you stroke him on your own.

jungkook gives a shuddering moan into your mouth when he climaxes minutes later, thick streams of his cum shooting onto his shirt and dripping down your hand. he tries to keep quiet and doesn’t entirely succeed, but it doesn’t much matter.

you squeeze the few remaining drops of cum from his cockhead, trying to make sure you don’t grip hard enough to actually hurt him. you pull your sticky hand away from jungkook when you think he’s finally emptied, but he grabs your wrist and you look at him questioningly. you watch with shocked eyes as jungkook brings your hand up and takes your messy fingers into his mouth, sucking his cum from them. you know instinctively it isn’t the first time he’s done this—not with the look of pure satisfaction on his features as he licks his own seed off your fingers.

his enthusiastic pleasure is part of the reason why you accept when jungkook gives you a crushing kiss, passing his cum from his tongue to yours. you don’t know what you expected it to taste like, but it isn’t gross like you’ve heard others complain about when sharing their sex tales; despite being salty, the overall taste is neutral. still, it takes some getting used to.

when you pull away from each other, noses brushing and lips wet from each other’s spit, you look into his dark brown eyes and get the sudden desire to say something that’s been buried in the back of your mind for days now.

“why did you come straight to me that night?” you whisper. “like you already knew who you were there for.”

jungkook stares back, his lips curving up slightly. “i just wanted to. or i wanted you, more specifically.”

“that’s not an answer.”

“well, it’s my answer.”

“was i another one to knock off your list?”

“you think i have a list?”

“i’m not stupid. it’s not unusual for guys to have a list. plus, plenty of rumors go around.”

jungkook taps his fingers underneath your chin and kisses you on the lips again, though it is brief. “stop believing everything you hear.”

you clearly won’t be getting a straight answer from him tonight. with the moment broken, you sigh and begin pulling your bottoms back on. “…whatever you say, dude.” once you’re dressed, you climb over his body to get off the couch. you poke him in the chest as your eyes roam over him in his disheveled state, his shorts pulled down and his cum staining his black shirt. “might wanna clean yourself up, huh? i’m going to sleep. and, yeah…thanks for the distraction.”

TUESDAY, NOV 7

with the weather being as cold as it is and heading toward winter in another month or so, lorelai is surprised by how quickly the bodies began to smell.

she doesn’t know much of anything about bodily decomposition—because, to her parents’ disappointment, she wasn’t about to be a biology major and have to be around cadavers in a dissection lab—but if this were a movie or something, she would’ve thought it would take longer than just one day. the smell started to hit her the saturday after the party.

but ultimately, this isn’t a movie, and the fact that she’s trapped in a decrepit house in some remote part of town is her present reality.

she doesn’t remember anything about how she got to this house; she thinks she must have been concussed before she was brought here. her head has been hurting badly for days, and not even the simple relief of a painkiller is available.

what she does know is that she’s being kept in a dirty living room on an equally dirty mattress, her hands and legs tied by rope and zip-ties. if there were any miniscule chance of her escaping, it would be impossible to go anywhere considering both her ankles are broken, only adding to the amount of physical pain she’s been in for days.

the living room is mostly empty except for the bodies of some other students from the party, which have been scattered around the room. lorelai tries not to look at them—especially not at the ones she knows—but it’s difficult. they become even more terrifying to her when night falls, turning into dark, rotting shadows in the corners of the room. there has been nothing but the company of these corpses for days, and a couple of visits from the killer.

he's never once taken off his wolf mask or his gloves, and every other part of his body stays covered in all black. she doesn’t have the first idea of what he looks like underneath it all. he has spoken to her a few times, but the voice isn’t one she recognizes. his words when she first awoke inside this house still knock around in her mind, filling her with dread.

he’d crouched in front of her, watching her move around on the mattress and try to orient herself. he had the casual air of someone observing a flipped-up bug struggle on the sidewalk before crushing it underfoot. “you aren’t y/n, but you’ll do for now. we’ll have some real fun later on. you’ll help me give her a good scare.”

“how the fuck do you know y/n?” lorelai had struggled against her restraints, but this only made her newly broken ankles hurt worse. tears began to fall from her eyes from the pain and fear.

the killer had said nothing to that—only tilted his head curiously and stared at her, which was unnerving even if she couldn’t see his eyes.

“you have no fucking reason to go after her, she’s not even a virgin anymore you dumb fuck—” with those words, the killer had backhanded her, sending her already injured head into a fresh wave of agony.

“things would’ve been different if not for that fucking party. you students think you’re so fucking clever, yeah? and look how you paid for it.” it was impossible to see any facial expression, but his body language spoke of anger. “no matter, though. virgin or not, i’ll see this through to the end.”

now it’s yet another morning, and he has returned. he has a lot of debris in his hands—stuff like sticks and dry moss and foliage. he’s also carrying a small bag, the contents of it a mystery. everything he does causes alarm for lorelai, but now confusion joins in.

“ready to have some fun?” he asks. with duct tape over her mouth, she can’t answer back. she watches as he arranges the debris on the ground in front of her, her anxiety mounting as he takes a lighter out of his pocket and sets fire to the foliage.

leaning forward, he rips part of the duct tape away from her mouth with his gloved hand, causing her face to sting. “got anything to say?”

“wh-what the fuck are you doing?”

“i’m gonna stoke a nice fire here…get this knife hot enough to hurt.” he brings out his knife then, and lorelai shrinks away from the blade as he drags the flat of it across her throat—but there’s nowhere else to go, as she’s sitting up against the wall. “then i’ll just cut this pretty little body up a bit. the finishing touch…i think i’ll slice your throat open. how does that sound?” he takes the knife away from her neck to hold the blade over the flames.

lorelai’s breath hitches, and her stomach begins to physically hurt from the outpouring of anxiety flowing through her. she starts to sob, trying to speak through the tears and snot and drool. the only question she can muster up is, “wh-why?”

“this is for y/n—remember? i hope that concussion hasn’t fucked with your memory.” the killer watches the reflection of the flames on the blade as it grows hotter. “and…i’m doing someone a favor.” he doesn’t wait for her to speak again before putting the duct tape back in place over her mouth, leaving her to cry to herself and face her rising distress as he heats the knife until it’s burning hot. internally, she wishes there was any way in the world to get out of this situation.

it isn’t much longer before he’s finished. lorelai screams as he approaches her with the knife, and then at the feeling of the red-hot blade scorching her skin, though the sounds are stifled by the duct tape.

“now, be still while i fix you up.”

WEDNESDAY, NOV 8

you go outside that afternoon to check the mail and have an excuse to get out of the house; it doesn’t matter if it’s only for a few moments. you’re not used to staying cooped up in one place for so long with absolutely nothing to do, and you feel like you’re not too far off from going mad with cabin fever. it hasn’t even been a week since everything happened.

you open the mailbox, and there are the usual bills along with something strange: a blank envelope with no return address. even your sister’s address isn’t written on it. flipping it over, you see that the envelope was never sealed. someone must’ve just come up and put it inside the mailbox. but who the hell would do that, and for what reason? whenever any of your neighbors have something to give you or your sister, they come straight up to the house to do it.

inside the envelope is a set of polaroids. their content makes you drop the rest of the mail. your legs grow weak, and you end up sitting down hard on the end of the driveway, some of the polaroids slipping from your hands. the pictures show the bodies of some of the students from your university, their corpses posed in odd positions and some bare of clothing—all dead.

you struggle to breathe as you frantically flip through the rest of the pictures. in the center of all the group photos is lorelai, her neck torn open and her wrists and ankles tied. she’s still dressed the way she was the night of the party, though her dress is stained with dark brown blood. there are open cuts all over her bare skin, their appearance rough-looking and uneven as if they’ve been cauterized.

there are several group polaroids, several of lorelai alone, and several angles of the outside of a house, which must be the same one the bodies are being kept in. one photo of lorelai slips out of your shaking hands, and you see there’s barely legible handwriting on the back of it, which reads, “this is just the teaser, y/n.”

you scream and don’t stop screaming until jungkook comes running out of the house holding the baseball bat, as if the killer might’ve gotten bold enough to attack in daylight. a couple of your neighbors peek out of their houses and make their way over with concern on their faces once they see you sitting on the ground, your exclamations ringing through the street.

there’s a disarrayed group of people around you grabbing at your shoulders and asking what’s wrong, what happened, and then gasps and exclamations of shock when they see the polaroids. you feel yourself being pulled to your feet and then lifted up—maybe it’s jungkook, because it smells like him—but you’re too disoriented to make proper sense of anything right now. you can only think of how much time has been wasted, and how little time lorelai actually had left.

SUNDAY, NOV 12

in the main lobby of the funeral home, you sit in a chair next to camille, staring into empty space while the other girl tries to cry as quietly as she can. she cries as if she’s ashamed of it, and you wish you could comfort her, but you don’t know what to say or do. for the past few days, you’ve mostly just felt numb.

you’re waiting for veronica to come back out so you can leave, as she’d stayed behind after the service to talk to lorelai’s family for a little longer.

lorelai’s family had opted to have her cremated after seeing the state of her body. a lot of other families did the same after the events of cherry bomb, not even wanting to entertain the idea of a closed-casket funeral. you can understand their feelings about it if you push through the haze in your mind to consider it for long enough. though the morticians have done the best they can over the past week, sometimes knowing that your loved one has multiple stab wounds and eviscerated organs beneath all the makeup and fancy clothing is too much to handle.

when veronica finally comes out, the three of you walk outside to join the rest of the people who’ve started getting in their cars. some still linger in small huddles, shaking their heads and wiping their faces.

jungkook, who’d driven you and veronica to the memorial, waits outside for you all, leaning on the side of the building. you both thought it was probably better for him not to attend the service considering lorelai was never fond of him and he didn’t know her that well.

“is it finished?” he asks.

“it is.” veronica sighs. “god, funerals are so damn…bleak.”

you notice a man waving at your group from the other side of the parking lot and realize it’s camille’s dad. her posture straightens when she catches sight of him, and she hurriedly tries to wipe the rest of her tears before shoving her tissue into her pocket. “i-i think my dad is waiting for me. i…i’ll see you guys later, alright?”

“okay, camille.” the strange absence of emotion that you’ve been trapped in for the past few days suddenly cracks open when you notice camille’s anxious demeanor as she speed-walks away from the rest of you. intense sorrow overtakes you; you don’t want her to leave, but she has to go.

you are crying before you fully understand what’s happening. veronica puts her arms around you and squeezes you against the side of her body. jungkook reaches a thumb up to wipe away your tears, though you don’t let him get very far before turning your head away and into veronica’s shoulder.

“y/n…”

“how am i supposed to go on?” you exclaim, catching the attention of a few people nearby. “the police said maybe she’s just staying with friends. and now look. plus, the killer knows where me and my sister live now…maybe he always knew.”

“we don’t even have a clue who the killer is…” jungkook mumbles. “there’s no one you know of who might have a grudge against you?”

“no, jungkook. the police already gave me all that questioning. and it doesn’t help me feel any better to think maybe all these deaths are somehow my fault.” you scoff.

“y/n, nothing’s your fault because some freak decided to go around killing people; that was his decision.” jungkook argues.

you nod slightly to his words but say nothing else, not wanting to go further into that topic. you don’t know if you can believe him about that.

the parking lot is emptying out now, so you try to pull yourself together so the three of you can leave. “well…you don’t need to keep staying with us if you don’t want to. we have those assigned bodyguards now, so…” you glance in the direction of one other car sitting beside jungkook’s—inside it are two men the police force appointed after the polaroids of the bodies were planted in your sister’s mailbox.

jungkook looks at you as if he’s trying to gauge your expression; he himself looks surprised, though he attempts to play it off. veronica glances between you both, recognizing the awkward shift in the air.

“you don’t want me there anymore? i mean it is your house—” he glances at veronica “—so that’s fine with me if—"

“what? i didn’t say i don’t want you there, neither did veronica, it’s just if you don’t want to be there—"

“i never said i didn’t want to be there, though?”

you both become quiet, jungkook looking at you and you returning his gaze for a few seconds before looking off to the side. veronica is still standing between you both like she’d rather be anywhere else on earth.

“i just figured that maybe…” why are you being so concerned about me? isn’t this the part where we go our separate ways? is what you really want to ask. you have seen and learned enough from your friends’ and even your acquaintances’ experiences to realize that any other one night stand would not have cared so much. that’s how these things go, right? but he isn’t really a one night stand anymore, either.

you don’t even know if you’re considered friends with benefits, but what would that change? you’d still seen others tossed aside without much thought by their FWBs while in times of need. considering his history, you don’t understand why jungkook isn’t following the same template now, and you don’t think you should ask why for fear of breaking the illusion.

fed up with your own confusion, you decide now isn’t the time to lament on your lack of knowledge about these things. “nevermind. that’s fine. so you’ll stay?”

the corner of his mouth lifts in a brief smile. “i’ll stay as long as you won’t try to kick me out.”

you aren’t in the mood to attempt to smile back, but he seems to understand that. “right, well...good.”

“…now that you two have figured that shit out, can we leave?”

FRIDAY, NOV 17

jungkook thought that getting outside a bit more would help you feel better and prevent you from developing a complete fear of leaving the house, which is why you’re sitting in this claustrophobic little diner now with him, yoongi, and camille—and of course, your ever-present bodyguards in the booth behind you all. but this outing isn’t doing anything to mitigate your fears.

nearly 10 minutes in, you have to ask jungkook to switch seats with you so you’re not on the outside of the booth, as you’re afraid that it’s too easy-access if anyone—say, the killer, though you’ve been trying not to think so obsessively about him—were to come in and start stabbing you to death right where you sit. being on the inside calms you for a little while until you become anxious about the window beside you; what if he has a gun again and simply shoots through the glass? all he’d have to do is stand on the sidewalk and aim, his werewolf mask laughing at you with its eternally frozen growling expression, and your brains would be all over the table just like that frat guy’s.

your meal sits half-eaten as you get increasingly lost in your anxieties. the others are talking about something, but you can’t hear what. it’s like some of your senses have shut down or begun working incorrectly. the strawberry sauce in camille’s sundae looks too much like blood and even smells like it from the occasional whiffs you get, and you find yourself staring at the sundae dish and wanting to throw it across the restaurant.

jungkook’s hand touches you on the back, and the tension in your body increases. he feels it and draws away, though he keeps trying to meet your eyes. “are you okay?” he whispers.

“why ask that? she obviously isn’t,” yoongi says, like he’s annoyed with the obviousness of jungkook’s question.

“hyung, i’m just trying to help.”

“it was your great idea to come out here when she didn’t want to, though.”

“y/n—” camille starts.

“can’t you throw that out? it smells like blood.” your mouth feels useless and hard to maneuver, but you manage to say those words.

“what?”

“the…that. that thing.” everyone looks at camille’s melting sundae. yoongi raises his eyebrows.

“blood?”

“do you mean it—looks like blood?” jungkook suggests.

you raise your voice in irritation, not understanding how everyone else is unable to perceive the same scent that you do. “no, i-it does, but it smells like blood too! just get rid of it!”

one of the waitresses comes over to the table. “is everything okay over here?”

“um, we’re fine! i’m finished with this though.” camille hurriedly hands the sundae off to her, trying to keep the situation calm.

“oh, well—the rest of you too? that’ll be it, then?” she gathers everyone’s plates and leaves with a smile that attempts to be cordial but is still colored with unease.

her departure leaves a stiff silence in which you all spare glances at each other but try to avoid directly meeting eyes. camille is the first to break it.

“i’ll ask my dad if i can stay over with you,” she suggests. she suddenly sounds much more tired. jungkook’s eyebrows furrow slightly at her words; yoongi silently glances at the younger man. “just, you know…maybe the extra company would help? he’s been treating me like a kid again, but we should be safe with the bodyguards there, so…”

“you don’t have to do that,” you say, though you’re too exhausted to truly argue.

“you’re in shambles, y/n. and it’s not just for your benefit. i’m feeling pretty fucking alone right now, and it’s hard for my dad to understand the emotional side of it, so…” camille plays with her fingers and doesn’t look at anyone as she speaks; you know talking about her father can be a sore spot for her sometimes. “uh, anyway. not to trauma-dump or anything. just let me do this.”

you sigh. “fine…okay. do whatever you have to. can we just leave?”

as you’re all walking outside, jungkook pulls you aside.

“i still worry about you after that incident at the store, you know?” he admits.

you shrug his hand off your arm and glare at him. “you think i’m crazy.”

“i don’t. i just want you to be able to relax and not feel like you’re being hunted 24/7. i don’t think the killer is constantly waiting around the nearest corner for you, y/n.”

“you don’t know how close the killer could be. he knows where i go to sleep at night. so stop the bullshit, jungkook.”

“you’ll be okay. you have me, remember? i protected you that night…i can do it again.”

you examine his face for a long moment and find that you are too overwhelmed with stress and fear to be moved by his words. “i’d like to trust you…but the killer might just murder you too. then who’ll save me?” you don’t wait for his response before walking away to catch up with the other two.

LYING IN WAIT...

it’s strange to see the police bodyguards in veronica’s driveway and backyard everyday. it’s not the same two all day—they switch off so that there are two doing a day shift and two doing a night shift.

the security team at the hospital where your sister works is aware of the situation, so you try not to get too worried about her safety when she’s away from the house—but it’s difficult.

there have been no more kills connected to your university since lorelai. it seems like half the town has forgotten their fears and tried to go back to some sense of normalcy while the other half still hides away and lives in perpetual panic, including you. the former group of people has started muddying the waters for the police, with some teenagers getting brave enough to sneak around in wolf masks and vandalize buildings with red-lettered virgin graffiti just to fuck with the cops. there have even been a few people who turned themselves in claiming to be the killer—only their supposed confessions never matched the details of the case.

reporters have tried to hound lorelai’s family and your family several times for any speculations or answers on the killer’s identity, but none of you are willing to spread misinformation just to give them something to write about. however, that hasn’t stopped other residents of your town from sharing their speculations and even implicating their own relatives or neighbors—whether as a fucked-up joke or as genuine revenge just depends on whoever’s speaking. with all of these false leads, the police are still no closer to finding the killer than they’d initially been.

everyday feels like you’re waiting for the other shoe to drop, though the chances of any more kills are starting to seem improbable; the university is practically empty. but it doesn’t matter to you if the school is nearly deserted, because the killer has his aims set on you now, and you only wish you knew why.

up in your room, you and camille sit on your bed gazing out the window—the window that must always remain locked now, for fear of unwanted ingress. you’ve never been uncomfortable in your sister’s house, but lately you’ve been feeling like you’re boxed in with every wall pressing towards you.

sitting up from your lying-down position, you have to find the appropriate words for a moment before speaking. “camille—i can’t stop feeling like maybe we aren’t entirely safe,” you murmur.

camille raises her eyebrows. “why not? those guys stay outside all day, and we keep everything locked up day and night. literally, the only time the front door opens is for veronica to leave and come back from work everyday.”

“i don’t know. there’s no particular reason for it…it just seems like we’re waiting for something.”

“…yeah? for the killer to be caught.”

“but he’s made no moves recently. you remember the policeman’s daughter, right? i even texted her and she hasn’t heard anything new that we don’t already know. seems like things have slowed down at the police station. it’s not like that abandoned house was in the killer’s name or anything, so what leads would they have?”

camille frowns and rubs her eyes like something’s in them, but when she looks at you directly, you see her eyes are red from unshed tears. “…i want things to be okay, though. i’m tired of living like this. you know how i had to beg just to get my dad to let me leave the house. he’s constantly on edge.” you feel even more unsettled to see camille so distressed lately, as she’s always been the only one able to pull something funny out of a terrible situation—something enough to distract you from the horrors. “all i know is they’ll have to dig his ass out of some hole in the ground at some point. he can’t hide in this town forever.”

“yeah…i guess you’re right.” you still don’t feel reassured, but you don’t voice your doubts.

WEDNESDAY, NOV 22

“i think i might go mad,” camille says from her position on the armchair, her limbs splayed haphazardly across it and one hand stuck in a bag of chips.

you sigh. “you’re the one who wanted to watch this thanksgiving movie marathon.”

“the most mid holiday of the season,” jungkook adds.

“no one cares what either of you think, thanks.” it isn’t long before the program is over and the ending credits are rolling. with an exaggerated exhale, camille gets up from the chair and crunches the bag of chips in her hand. “i’m going to your room, y/n. you two just do whatever it is you do down here, since you hate my movie choices so much!”

“means we can finally turn the channel.” jungkook snatches the remote off the coffee table and does just that.

camille goes into the kitchen to throw out the chip bag and wash her hands. your focus returns to the TV. a few seconds later, you hear the upstairs flooring creak above the noise of the water pouring from the tap.

“what’s up, sis? i thought you were sleeping.” veronica is known to be a deep sleeper, so it’s not common for her to be getting up in the middle of the night. there’s no answer to your question. you glance upstairs, but your sister isn’t standing there; she isn’t standing at all, instead being carried by someone wearing an all-too familiar mask.

you scream as the killer tosses your sister over the stair railing. her torso has been sliced open from collarbone to navel, her body leaving a large splatter of blood on the floor where she lands. jungkook jumps to his feet but is momentarily immobilized as he gazes at your sister’s body crumpled on the floor. you slide off the couch and crawl over to her, still crying out, but there’s no life left to try and salvage.

the screaming brings camille rushing to the kitchen doorway. she can barely vocalize what’s wrong? before spotting veronica’s body and stopping in her tracks. in a moment that feels like it takes forever to pass, the killer pulls a gun from his waistband—you recognize it as one of the guns the policemen carry and realize he must’ve killed the bodyguard posted in the backyard—and shoots her in the chest twice.

“camille!” when you go over to where she’s lying on the ground, she is still alive but bleeding intensely and struggling to breathe. your knees slip in the blood that begins pooling around her. “shit, camille…p-please don’t die…” you press your hand against the wounds, but they’re bleeding so much that your efforts don’t help, and the pressure of your hand causes her more pain.

there’s the sound of a gunshot at the front door as the lock is blown off, and the door is banged open a few seconds later by the remaining bodyguard. he has virtually no time to fire off another shot before the killer is shooting him in the head first.

the killer throws the gun aside, taking his knife in his other hand and making his way down the stairs. “your sister left her window cracked open. i waited for days for a slip-up like that. see how much harm can come from a simple mistake? well, she was collateral damage anyway.”

even in your panic, it’s as if all your bodily functions freeze when you recognize the familiarity of the killer’s voice. camille reacts with a rattling gasp, but her body is becoming too weak for her to utter anything; all she can do is watch as the man stops at the bottom of the stairs and pulls his mask off.

“yoongi…” your voice breaks as you try to speak again, but nothing coherent comes out.

he drops the mask on the floor and brushes a hand through his hair. “i guess you weren’t expecting that. good. we kept it up ‘til the end.”

your lips form around the word we, but your vocal cords won’t cooperate. you twist around to look at jungkook, who is still standing by the couch.

the man who you’d gotten too close to for your own good and done so many firsts with, who’d promised you that he’d protect you and was even there for you on the day of lorelai’s memorial, looks at you now with eyes glowing from the thrill as his mouth twitches into a smile—small at first but growing into a full grin. “i almost can’t believe we staged all that shit and it actually worked. you really believed it all, y/n.

not all of those kills were hyung’s, of course...there’s no way i’d miss out on the best parts. you don’t know what it’s like until you kill a person for the first time. crashing cherry bomb was his idea, though. and lorelai was mine. that bitch would’ve kept you away from me, and i needed her gone for this kill to work.”

through tears, you finally muster up the strength to ask, “wh-why have you done this? that night…y-you mean to tell me none of that was real? being shot at—why would you—” your voice rises until you’re shouting. “you-you’ve killed so many people. what was the purpose?!”

jungkook’s smile fades somewhat as he pretends to think about it, acting like he’s reminiscing on wistful memories. “i realized that killing and fucking aren’t that different, y/n. the real ecstasy of it is in taking someone pure…and doing something to them that has never been done before, and can never be done again. there’s a certain eroticism in killing someone, stabbing them, entering them…it’s like sex in the most profane sense.”

“you’re disgusting,” you mutter, glaring at him through your tears. you can’t help but feel shame to think of the times you’d had sex with him. had he simply been imagining murdering you during those moments? it makes you want to throw up.

yoongi steps closer until he’s right in front of you and camille. “and as for me…i just enjoy it. practice really does make perfect. you wouldn’t believe how entertaining it can be to see someone beg for their life.” his lips turn upwards in a dark smile resembling jungkook’s. “but instead of raging at us, i think you have bigger matters to be concerned with.” yoongi gestures his knife hand to camille, and when you look down at her body, you realize she’s no longer moving.

you lift camille’s head up with your hands as if that could make her return your gaze, though you can find no sign of breathing or pulse. “god, no…” you scream in frustration, your hands slipping in her blood. you check once more and again for any signs of life, because there is just no possible way this could’ve happened, but there are none present. “please—i’m sorry…”

“time’s up.” yoongi grabs your arm and yanks you away from camille, jostling you to try to get you on your feet. you flail around in his grip, fruitlessly scratching at his arms that are covered by his thick jacket, before managing to elbow him in the groin with your frantic movements. “shit!” this causes him to loosen his grip, which is enough for you to scramble away from him, slipping in the blood as you go.

you make it to the other side of the room where the officer lies facedown—though there isn’t much left of his face from yoongi’s shot. you snatch the gun from the dead officer’s hand and point it in the direction of both men. the safety is already off; all you’d have to do is pull the trigger and kill either one of them right now. before you can act, yoongi uses his free hand to pull another gun from his waistband—his own.

“as i said before, i know how to take care of myself,” he says, flicking the safety off and aiming for you, though his stance shows he’s still in pain. “please don’t assume it’ll be that easy. do you even know how to shoot a gun?”

you and yoongi are at an impasse as you both point your guns at each other, jungkook looking on with casual amusement coloring his face. “fuck you,” you spit out. you remain hesitant to fire on him, knowing that even if you succeed, he could fatally shoot you at the same time.

“let’s not do it this way,” yoongi says, his voice low and soft in an attempt to be persuasive, though you just find it disturbing. “you were supposed to be a clean kill. a few stabs and it’d all be over. i’ll even let jungkook do it, since you seem to like each other so much. do you really want to be shot down like a dog like camille over there?”

“you and him can both fry in hell!” you shout.

yoongi glances over at jungkook. they both nod before yoongi hands the knife to him, and the younger man takes a few steps in your direction. you don’t know whether to point the gun at him or keep it trained on yoongi; your head is pounding with a headache that you’ve only just realized you have. “don’t come over here. stay away from me!”

you press your back to the wall as jungkook comes closer, inching towards your right side with his knife at the ready. you slide away from him as you keep your back against the wall. “hand it over, y/n. it doesn’t have to be like this.”

“hand it over and let you kill me? are you insane? you lied to me this whole time, you fucking piece of shit.”

jungkook scoffs and looks at yoongi as if to say can you believe this? “why wouldn’t i lie to you? you were always meant to die.”

he won’t stop coming towards you, and you’re running out of room to slide away from him. you grasp for anything to try to reason with him, though you know it’s futile. “you realize that if you kill me now and you conveniently survive, everyone will know it’s you? you’ve been living here for weeks, you jackass!”

“hyung and i have that covered. it’s not for you to worry about, considering you won’t be worrying about anything soon.”

jungkook lunges for you with the knife, thinking he can catch you off guard and overpower you. you scream and pull the trigger in your frenzied state of mind, shooting yoongi. the next few things seem to happen almost simultaneously:

you hear the crash of yoongi’s body hitting the TV stand and the TV falling to the floor.

you feel jungkook’s knife piercing your shoulder, causing you to fire a stray round into the wall from the unexpected burst of pain.

you hear another gunshot that’s not from you; you see and feel jungkook stumble into you, the knife sliding from his fingers and to the floor.

you realize that he’s been shot when his hand flies to the bullet wound on his lower back; he’d been standing in front of you, and yoongi meant to hit you, not him.

“jungkook!” yoongi’s shout is furious and regretful as he steadies himself on the TV stand.

trying to push the pain into the back of your mind, you clumsily grasp jungkook’s fallen knife and run for the stairs. more shots follow you and most of them miss but one, which strikes you in the thigh. while you cling to the stair railing and try to regain your footing, you are suddenly staring mortality in the face and understanding with a freezing-cold clarity that you will die right now if you don’t do something.

your nervous system vibrates with fear and adrenaline as you tighten your grip on the police officer’s gun and shoot yoongi with it twice—in the same area he’d shot camille.

these last two bullets finish him off immediately. you don’t think it’s fair, with how camille suffered and bled and died in your arms. for a moment, you’re so outraged that you wish he’d come back to life so that you could kill him again. you’re torn from these thoughts by jungkook.

“you bitch…he was my only family after everyone else threw me away. do you understand? i’ll fucking kill you!” jungkook is nearly writhing in the ground from his upset and from the hurt of his injury; it frightens you that this same man is someone you once thought you could grow fond of.

you aim the gun for jungkook next, but the chamber is empty. either way, he currently has no weapon, which leaves you with a small chance to get away before he re-arms himself. throwing the gun away, you stagger up the rest of the steps while his screams continue echoing up to you.

you give no thought to the blood trail you’re leaving behind as you rush to veronica’s room and to the window yoongi had entered through. you begin squeezing yourself through, keeping your grip on your knife all the while, but your injuries make it difficult to move. a few more tears slip out as you try to balance your injured leg on the tree branch beneath the window, and the desperation of wanting to give up clings to you.

you hear jungkook’s heavy and limping footsteps coming up the stairs, and you attempt to hurry, but you’re only halfway out of the window. when he crashes into the room, it’s unnervingly easy for him to grab your arm and yank your body back through the window, uncaring of how you get scraped up in the process.

he jams you up against the nightstand with one of the kitchen knives to your neck to stop your movements; his harsh maneuver causes the objects on the nightstand to rattle. the nightstand’s edge digs into the backs of your thighs, the pressure causing your wounded thigh to hurt more.

“you want to know why i picked you?” jungkook hisses, the knife’s blade stinging your throat as it begins to break skin. “you were just another choice out of many, but i decided you’d be the first one that i’d fuck and kill.”

it’s painful to hear, but it angers you at the same time. “fuck you!” in your rage, you spit in his eyes. jungkook jerks back and the knife shifts from its previous position at your neck; you take those few seconds to grasp the alarm clock off the nightstand and crash it against his head.

“shit—!” he cries out, stumbling and grasping the side of his head. he tries to grab for you again, but you jump onto the bed and crawl away from him, your stomach lurching at all of veronica’s blood soaked into the sheets. you spot a small decorative glass bowl on the dresser—the one filled with little candies that you’d always teased veronica for, saying she was so much like a grandma handing out treats to her grandchildren. when your feet touch the ground again, you clasp your hand around it like it’s a lifeline and fling it at jungkook’s head as hard as you can, just as he makes it around the bed to your side. the shards cut his face when it breaks, slowing him down further as he grabs his slashed and bleeding face. one of his eyes is blinded from the blood and glass.

this will probably be your only chance while he’s struggling to gather himself. you rush towards him with the knife handle tight in both of your hands and drive the blade into the middle of his chest, putting all your strength into that movement—just as his own knife impales your abdomen.

you are both simultaneously struck from the shock of being stabbed, and it takes you a few long moments to piece your mind back together as the pain radiates throughout your body. jungkook groans when you shift the knife around in his wound as you pull it out, letting his blood flow out freely. his breaths become wet and rattling as he chokes on his own blood, the red fluid staining his mouth and dripping down to his neck. he jams his knife further into your wound in retaliation so that the handle is flush against your body, causing your head to spin.

“i-if i die, i’m taking you w-with me.” jungkook gasps with his remaining effort. his body starts to sag from its standing position as he weakens, his hand slipping from the knife handle. he loosely grasps the comforter with one hand as he collapses to his knees, his torso becoming soaked with blood and his head bleeding from your earlier hits.

you drop your knife and lean against the bed too, shifting your body to find a position that could lessen the pain, but it’s impossible with a knife lodged in your abdomen. you know enough to understand that you’ll bleed out faster if you remove it, though, so you resist the urge. “you can rot in hell alone, jungkook.” you watch him struggle for what feels like minutes before his breaths stop altogether and his body slumps to the floor. he is just a blur of clothes and blood through your tears. you’ve never felt so lonely in your life.

you have a thought to call 911, but you’re becoming more and more lightheaded from the blood loss, and you can already hear sirens approaching on your street. you figure one of your neighbors must’ve called after hearing the gunshots; perhaps the bodyguard sent for backup before he was shot. your rescue has come much later than you would’ve preferred—or maybe everything just happened much faster than it seemed. you can’t tell anymore.

you can’t tell anymore, and you no longer want to look at the carnage around you, and nothing makes any sense. so, you close your eyes to it all; and when you feel someone lifting you in their arms—this sensation is so familiar—and maneuvering you onto a stretcher, you allow yourself to relent to it and empty your mind of everything.

@ihatemen55 @cottoncandyclouds-stuff @yunhofingers @heybabesposts @twilight-loveer @whipwhoops @mrsminho @junecat18 @hoshi-is-ult-bbg @okayiamkassandra @witchbitxhxx @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad @thaiika @goldentea10 @iloverubberduckiez-blog @katie-tibo @ohsweetmimosa @dream-cvtcher @hoseokteardrop @lpgirl2324 @vanillacupcakefrosting @gukiemochi @jkslaugh97 @ahgasegotarmy116 @jeonjklibs @bangtans-momma @screamertannie @kenzietaetae @han-nah-banana @00frenchfries00 @taiwan0618 @laurynne5 @monvante @ynisthatyou @thiccthighs19 @jeonwiixard

#jungkook smut #jungkook fic #jungkook imagines #jungkook scenarios #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #bts scenarios #bts imagines #bts fic #bts smut #bts x you #bts x reader #black reader #x black reader #x black fem reader #black fem reader #fem reader #female reader

1K notes · View notes

vesperaink · 1 month

Text

Friends, my necromancer!Tango/grimreaper!Jimmy, Team Rancher modern with magic apocalypse AU, Graveyard Shift, for @mcytblraufest's Reverse Big Bang is here!

But wait there's more--go read chasing crimson written by @aliferous-ly, beta'd by @dibs2win, my fantastic team for aufest. If you love enemies to lovers, unlikely partnerships, and the power of soul-bound magic weapon contracts, this hilarious + dramatic 22.9k fic kicks off from this comic!

chasing crimson

Jimmy Solidarity works for the esteemed god of Death, reaping lost souls and taking care of unsavory characters. He's recently finished his training, and is determined to do well on his first solo mission. Perhaps this "Tango" would be a good start. Only, the god of Death disappeared years ago, and Necromancer Tango Tek's long since discovered a way around dying. He can't say he enjoys Jimmy swinging through and killing him where he stands, though.

Thank you to my team for being as feral about this AU as I am, and kicking everything about it up to 110. I had so much developing this world with them!

Thanks to @onawhimsicot for helping me with the comic's dialogue, fixing my composition woes with "just add more smoke," and encouraging me to complete it in full color! Check out Cadence's aufest fic, I take it back (ill follow till I fly or till im dead), a Cult of the Lamb AU about follower!Tango and Lamb!Zedaph, the meaning of devotion, silly experiments, eldritch transformations, and...the most platonic slowburn ever?

Lastly, thank you to the aufest team for another wonderful event! I had a blast again, and was giggling kicking my feet at everyone's reactions during claims, I loved every single one of them. Graveyard Shift is definitely an AU I'm coming back to. As always, my askbox is open if you'd like to chat, and I'd love to be tagged if anyone makes anything <3

Timelapse / AU art chatter under the cut!

While Graveyard Shift is the amalgamation of many of my interests, the main premise for this AU is loosely inspired by the webcomic, I'm the Grim Reaper, in both its apocalypse themes and its aesthetics! Not a required read, but highly recommend if you enjoy this au, as well as the anime and manga, Soul Eater!

I came up with a lot of AUs for this event but necromancer!Tango and reaper!Jimmy have been rattling around in my brain in separate AUs since before I started brainstorming for aufest. So I smashed them together, naturally.

(Unfortunately I didn't record all of my process, but most of it is here! CW for flashing; song is Angel of Small Death and the Codeine Scene by Hozier)

youtube

I could go on forever about concept art and character design if anyone's curious but here's some fun bonus details about this comic:

Originally, Tango's outfit was going to be more like his Dungeon Master outfit but I wanted the setting to be more modern and Jimmy stole the fantasy cloak vibe from him already lol

Jimmy's entrance of lightning is my nod to the Life Series final death sound

The scarf Jimmy's wearing is designed to be a boneyard shawl

The panel of strange text reads "Protection Three" in Galactic :)

+ The name "Graveyard Shift" was thrown at me by Cadence in like 3 seconds flat after i spent 2 days agonizing over a name for this au LOL

#mcytblraufest2024 #team rancher #solidaritek #trafficshipping #graveyard shift au #gsau #<- if you'd like to keep up with this au if we make more #cw eyestrain #cw bright colors #YIPPEEE RELEASED FROM MY NDA!!!!!! yall have no idea how much ive wanted to talk about this au since may #solidaritygaming #tangotek #life series au #hermitcraft au #vesperinks #my art

234 notes · View notes

bluexiao · 2 years

Text

#his secret lover

— just a series where you are their secret lover… but you didn’t know because you weren’t from teyvat after all! (until you have memories of him and you every time you two touch)

CHARACTERS. self aware! Isekai! gn! Reader; Al-Haitham, Heizou, Tighnari, Scaramouche / Wanderer

THEMES. light sagau (self aware genshin au), isekai, fluff/crack, questionable but real established relationship, suggestive (light and in a few of them…), domestic (kind of inspired by several manhwas lmao), light angst on Tighnari’s??

NOTES. I planned for this to be a series so yep if there is anyone else you want me to cover, just hmu.

SCARAMOUCHE / WANDERER

You have to give him all the props, he had hidden you quite well.

Even as he was a Fatui Harbinger of a high enough ranking–for others, he was able to keep your identity a secret. Thus, the moment you opened your eyes and found yourself in the land of Teyvat without even knowing, you didn’t know about this.

Being transported to Inazuma was one thing that did take you a whileto notice until you came face to face with the tracks to Mt. Yougou and officially got to know a Yae Miko–an individual everyone seemed to have great respect for and the fox ears and tail were ones you have never seen in a person ever–at least not one that looked so real and looked exactly like a character in a game you’ve played in!

What Yae Miko and you talked about came in a blur because you were too much in your head, thinking about how everything suddenly made sense but didn’t at the same time. Yet you did uncover something in your identity in such a small conversation–it was that she knew you. Very well, that is. You felt that it was weird for her to suddenly come up and talk to you all of a sudden, all the more when she asked how you and your lover were–you almost let out a “Who in the world is my lover-Wait, I have one?!” but you managed to shut yourself up and said that you two were doing alright. Biggest mistake of your life.

The moment you saw Scaramouche, you didn’t even recognize him. He wore such different clothes that you barely had the time to stare and get a grip, not until he was right in front of you–actually, he marched right in front of you.

“Wash that stupid look on your face, you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

For a moment, you were dumbfounded over the fact that he looked exactly like Scaramouche but not at all–was it the clothes? Or was it the soft look on his face that he kept on for a few seconds until he wipes it off—and you didn’t even have much time to respond before he adds on.

“And that fox is acting weirdly, did you say anything to her? Don’t tell me you slipped up and told her that you’re seeing me,” he sends you a look and your mind goes in spirals all the more.

You’re seeing who now?!

Seeing as you haven’t answered him yet and you were merely staring at him, this time, a different expression comes across his face, disappearing as fast as it had appeared.

“What in the world has gotten into you?” his voice turns softer this time, “is something wrong?”

He will actually end up pulling you aside and interrogating you for what had happened. That is! Until you remembered everything! The moment he held your hand, every single memory you have had with him came rushing in and you became dizzy that he will suddenly decide to just take you home.

You now came to recall everything that had occurred and everything fell into place, only now, you had memories of your memories in your real life–or was it really real??—back on Earth whilst having memories of your life in Teyvat. You remember receiving secret letters from Scaramouche and hearing all about his plans, and it momentarily stopped only to receive one yesterday, stating that he would come back home finally.

You still weren’t sure if you would tell him this is a game… but what is the use though? You haven’t gone through this timeline as well…

“Kuni… I lived two lives.” For some reason, it didn’t sit well for you to keep anything from him–it seems so wrong, so…weird. A month ago, he was just a character in a game you were playing for quite some time and now, he was here, right in front of you.

His lips were on your cheek as he takes a breath and the air hits your skin, tickling you ever so slightly.

“Is that so?” you couldn’t tell if he was taking you seriously or not, even more so when you felt him encircle his hands on your waist and pull you closer to his face, where you could meet his eyes that narrowed and the corners of his lips quirk up, “then have you kissed someone else in your other life? Other than me?”

You heard the slight pause in between his questions and felt him lean closer to you. “Do they kiss you as good as I do?”

Actually, he meant to ask if you loved someone else other than him or not, but no, he can’t let you think of someone else when you have him right beside you. And besides… if you had another life, then that means he has nothing to worry about in this life… right?

That thought haunts him every night.

AL-HAITHAM

Being in a relationship with The Scribe is a big thing already. And all the more so with a person like him.

After all, it is not so much of a secret that he does bear a good appearance, albeit his personality, he was someone who was particularly popular to ladies and men alike. Maybe for different reasons but most were the same.

For you, one look at him and you could tell that everyone was right–he really was attractive, but no one would have the guts to come near him with his presence alone. You were only getting used to being transported into this world when you came across the Akademiya and he so suddenly passed by you. You couldn’t stop yourself from admitting that eye contact with him sent shivers down your spine and made you momentarily freeze in place. Even more so when he oh-so conveniently greeted you with a small smirk.

“Good morning, Y/n,” it was a ghost of a smile–it almost seemed like it was just a sight only for you.

Only, it was the truth, and you found out about it when you opened the door to your “home” and saw the face of the person that almost made you have a heart attack just moments ago.

“Oh-I mean, hi! Uhm-” you struggled to formulate anything else from your mouth that you wanted the ground to swallow you whole. You wanted to ask him why he was at your door when he chuckled right at you. When you openly stared at him, however, you could see his brow suddenly raise in confusion.

“Y/n… as far as I like the attention and seeing your flustered face, I am not that much interested in holding a staring contest against you at the door to our home,” he clearly was caught off guard as he clears his throat and looks away, “your home… pardon me for forgetting.”

He will definitely feel like something had happened to make you act quite weirdly, but he would not come up with a conclusion so suddenly, however, as he is beginning to gather up his observations, you eventually return back to “normal”, where you don’t freeze up whenever he shows up in front of you, or whenever he tries to lean in for a kiss, or any other physical intimacy that you seem to stutter about.

Actually, for him, it did feel like you were back in your past self–easily getting flustered or embarrassed. For you, though, the memories that the “Teyvat You” had accumulated slowly but surely came to you each day you spent with Al-Haitham, almost too calculative that you felt like everything that had happened seemed to be much more real than the “Earth You”.

And because of this, you begin to open up to your lover about your experience and decided to ask for his opinion. With all the time you had spent with him, you became much more comfortable with having to talk to him without stuttering and enough for you to tell the truth of your identity–but not enough to tell him that this world is merely inside a game. Fortunately, he would not be able to figure this out as this is something very unpresidential.

“Are you saying that another soul… but it’s still you… entered this body, and now you have memories of you here, as well as you back in your world,” he did not seem to end it in a question, more like a demand for you to tell him more or for you to explain it to him clearly without having a hard time to do so yourself–he could not really blame you… it is not such a “normal” occurrence that even he wouldn’t be able to explain himself if it had happened to him, not that he would be as inaccurate as you are.

He does try to help you uncover the truth and adjust well! After all, he is quite thirsty for knowledge (as much as you were to hi-) and there would be no things left unturned, especially considering that it was about you.

He does find it odd whenever you do a couple of things that you did not use to do—such as say a couple of words that are not in Teyvat’s vocabulary, from what he knows of—but he eventually grows accustomed to them, just as quick as you become accustomed to this “new life”—or it wasn’t really.

He does ask you a couple of questions (a LOT) about how your life was in the other world. You tell him of all the technologies and inventions you came to know and well you should not be that much surprised if he ends up covering them for his research or whatever. So do make sure to keep some of that knowledge to yourself!

TIGHNARI

The moment you wake, you found yourself lying in the middle of the forest, all alone, yet surrounded by mushrooms that you knew for sure you had never seen before.

They had brighter shades, compared to the ones you normally eat, which means-

“Are they poisonous? Or worse…” you mutter to yourself, horrified as you look at each of the mushrooms. Then everything turns black.

When you wake again, you were greeted by a different view–a hut, precisely… or it seems like it. You had a familiar feeling set in once you looked around you, however, but as soon as you heard the slightest bit of movement, you instinctively closed your eyes, pretending to be asleep.

“No point trying to act like you’re still unconscious, Y/n, you may open your eyes.”

The voice—it felt too familiar that even if you wanted to pretend a little bit more, you couldn’t help but be curious–why was it even familiar when-

Your jaw fell and your mouth hang open as soon as you came face to face with him–a man with long ears (fox ears? What are they-A fennec? Why does he look like… someone…) and his sense of fashion being… quite an eh-

“Huh? What is it? Is there something on my face?”

Now that you had heard his voice again, you came to realize that he does sound like the same person he looks very much alike to–Tighnari from that game you’ve played.

What in the-

“I must be dreaming right now, aren’t I?”

He sends a look at you and with crossed arms, says, “If you were, I can say I’m quite flattered to have you dream about me, but you are not dreaming so my gratitude is rather useless.”

And as he casually tries to check your temperature and your vitals, his touch makes you jump with a sudden “memory” that you two apparently had… of the times he took care of you after you appear to have been either injured or came across some weird mushrooms–which also seems to be the case this time around.

“What is it? Did it hurt when I touched you?” He does notice this and does not hesitate to ask you, but with all that was happening, you failed to notice the concerned look in his eyes but it did not stop the pressure that was building in your chest—so you lied. “No… I’m fine, just a bit jumpy… ‘s all.”

He may raise a brow at this but he brushes it off, and in the end, you might not be able to say the truth to him because… well, you didn’t have a chance! Every time you try to do so, it’s either he holds your hand or you hold his and a memory pops up and everything in your plan gets messed up!

He’s sort of a physical lover. You wouldn’t be able to believe it either, especially since you didn’t really know much about him until you came here and realized that it actually makes a lot of sense for him to be so.

He initiates a lot of it too! So much so that whenever you feel his tail wrap around your arm or your waist or him trying to request of you to pet his ears… you feel a little guilty somehow.

In the end, you were keeping something from him… and you still haven’t told it yet.

HEIZOU

You had just woken up and minutes later, you were stuck in a rather… awkward conversation.

“Are you saying… I’m in Teyvat?! And you’re Heizou?!”

The boy in front of you has a furrowed brow as he crosses his arms over your chest, “Hm? Where else should you be except for here? Right beside me?” he grins at the momentary victory of having to come up with a way to try and fluster you, but apparently, this time, it wasn’t working.

He, above most of the others, would figure it out immediately–well, not the entire story, no. He will be able to deduce that you must hae forgotten a piece or two (or maybe even all) of your memory and in turn, makes you very confused as to where you were and who is he–I mean, how could you even forget who he is? He courted you for so long and now he will have to go through that all over again?

You don’t remember everything as fast as his interrogation skills, however, and he will begin to question you before you even get to have your “memories” back, and when you do, you were already finished telling him of your life back in Earth and it seems you might have slipped that Teyvat is inside a game called Genshin Impact, which is how Heizou came into the conclusion of the truth.

You really wouldn’t be able to hide anything from this man because he knows his way around interrogation that even if you try to lie, it will only be for your demise. Well, it does seem like he wasn’t taking you seriously, but hey, at least he wasn’t being awkward about it now… or maybe he’s just REALLY not taking you seriously.

Anyway, it was a kiss that eventually makes you remember—not everything, but at least something.

“This is not gonna do… you act, speak, and look exactly like Y/n, and yet-“

“But my name is really Y/n! And… I think I remember something.”

“So you were able to recall something after our lips touched,” he brings a hand on his chin, contemplating, as you feel your face heat up.

“If you put it that way…”

“Then should we do it more? Kissing, I mean.”

“Sure, I-wait… what?”

comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!<3

taglist on the reblogs!

#yaepublishinghouse #genshin x reader #scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader #scara x reader #alhaitham x reader #al-haitham x reader #heizou x reader #tighnari x reader #genshin fluff #genshin sagau #sagau scaramouche #sagau heizou #sagau alhaitham #sagau tighnari

5K notes · View notes

slasher-male-wife · 11 months

Text

Yandere Lestat and Louis x GN reader headcanons

This is my first time writing for Louis and Lestat so I'm sorry if this is kind of out of character for them. Also I'm basing this off of the 1994 movie portrayal of the characters.

Warnings: Yandere behavior, cheating on reader (not my Lestat or Louis), murder, forced blood drinking mentioned, manipulative behavior, unhealthy relationships, slight au

Lestat had befriended a local artist in France where they're currently staying. Lestat had heard about this artist's muse and brought Louis along to meet them. When both men followed the artist into the studio there, waiting on a chaise lounge was you. Your outfit was most likely some kind of sleepwear that’s trending. Your hair, your body, your smile, all of it drew both men in. They could tell why this artist has dedicated you as his muse.

When they saw you they knew they had to have you. Louis was hesitant to really admit to wanting you to be all theirs, but Lestat had no problem talking openly to Louis about how much he desired you.

Soon both men began to shower you with affection away from your boyfriend. Lestat was all about taking you out on the town and buying you gifts, being very physical. While Louis was content to talk with you privately about whatever came across your minds.

They spent whatever time they could looking at the art your boyfriend made of you. Lestat went as far as to offer to buy some paintings of you. But sadly they weren’t for sale, so he opted to steal drawings of you.

After establishing a relationship with you, that's when they began to try and separate you from your boyfriend. Lestat would plant the ideas in your head and Louis would be there to comfort you through it all. “I’ve seen him around town, looking at other people the way he looks at you.” Lestat would say. “You deserve so much better than him Y/N. I promise you that.” Louis would add.

Louis would be hesitant to keep going with this plan, feeling like he’s building a relationship with you on nothing but lies. But Lestat would be there to tell Louis that this is what’s best for you, that they would be the best people to take care of you. So Louis would feel less guilty over time about this.

They’d also start to get your boyfriend to see other people, encouraging him to cheat on you just so their plan could be set into motion. Louis would take a little convincing to actually get in fully on this plan but Lestat would get him on board in the end.

They’d set it up so you’d catch your boyfriend cheating on you during the night. You’d run over to Louis and Lestat’s house and there they would be to comfort you about what you just saw. After you fall asleep they’ll go to your ex-boyfriend's house and kill him and the person he was cheating on you with, draining them of all their blood.

They’ll then have to explain to you what they are. Louis would break it to you gently and promise you that they’d never do anything to hurt you. Lestat would offer to turn you too and give you a couple days to think it over.

They’d set up a letter to give you from your “Partner” that says he fled to another country with his new partner. This will hopefully send you over the edge and get you to let them turn you into a vampire. If it doesn’t they’ll manipulate you into it anyway.

Once you’re turned they’ll start to spoil you even more for letting them turn you, trying to prove to you that you made the perfect decision by letting them turn you.

Lestat will want you to drink from humans immediately while Louis will understand if you’re hesitant. But both of them won’t let you drink from animals. So if you’re not drinking from humans they’ll force feed you blood.

If you ever think about leaving they’ll manipulate you into staying. What other vampire would want you? Can you really trust someone else after your last boyfriend? It’s best to stay with them, they were the ones who turned you after all.

Louis is a softer yandere. He’ll be more comforting and won’t be as explicit with his manipulation tactics and possessiveness. Lestat is far more open with his yandere behavior. He’ll outright manipulate you and yell at you if you talk about leaving. Louis will comfort you after and Lestat will eventually apologize just so you don’t hate him.

You’re not going to leave them, that’s not an option. You’re stuck with them forever. If you try to leave they’ll track you down and they’ll lock you in their house if that’s necessary.

#interview with the vampire #lestat de lioncourt x reader #louis de pointe du lac x reader #lestat x reader #louis de pointe du lac x you #interview with the vampire x reader

795 notes · View notes

starrclown · 5 months

Text

I've see ALOT of LMK angst and I have nothing better to do (cause it's late at night) and I'm not working on my LMK apocalypse au right now sooo-

LMK ANGST HEADCANNONS

Triggerwarning for Violence, Blood, Suicidal thoughts, and other general upsetting topics.

(Feel free to leave yours below. Let's make these characters sad together!)

Pigsy gets upset when people joke about Wukong being Mk's dad. It's insulting to him, the one that raises Mk since he was so little.

Wukong is someone that craves physically touch but also can't stand it. It stems from all the violence he's been apart of + the crown messed him up alot. He was SUPER uncomfortable with Mk touching him in the beginning. It has to be on his terms if you wanna touch him.

Macaque doesn't have a heart beat anymore.

Because of Macaque never coming back when Wukong needed him, Wukong had no trust that Macaque will come back if they have a argument. He assumes that Macaque is just gone and gets upset about it. Eventually Macaque comes back and realizes Wukong's upset but he doesn't bring it up cause he doesn't know how.

Redson doesn't really understand why his father doesn't seem to like him. He assumed that his dad would be overjoyed to see him again, not how he's acting now.

Mei had many breakdowns because of her grades and the pressure to be a spectacular student.

Pigsy got bullied alot in school for being a pig demon. It wasn't everyone, most people liked him, just a specific group of kids.

To add on to #7, Tang used to beat himself up over not being able to help Pigsy. He HATED seeing Pigsy getting bullied but he knew that if he tried to start a fight he would either get beat because he can't fight or get himself kicked out of school.

Mk gets nightmares of Wukong getting forced into the scroll. Sometimes he wonders what would of happened if Wukong never got out. He usually ends up crying.

The closest thing Sandy ever got to being violent is when one of his cats scared him and he accidently dropped Mo. He cried. Alot. (Mo was fine but he just hates his cats being hurt.)

Sandy still doesn't know Hunstman is dead. He just thinks that Huntsman was scared of him so he never came back. (Guess Hunstmans my favorite and he's dead and i hate it here god dammit.)

No one can say anything about Azure or Azure's death around Wukong because he will get upset. Macaque made a joke one time and Wukong lost his shit. He's still kinda shooken up about it.

Some of the baby monkies recognize Macaque as the one disguised as Wukong that ate the monkey and passed it around. Those monkies REFUSE to be around him. They get violent if they have to be around him.

Nezha wants to see Wukong, Redson, and the others more but his job is so demanding he barely gets to leave.

Wukong physically couldn't be around Tang for long periods of time when they first met. He got more comfortable with him over time but Tang reminded him to much of Tripitaka and he couldn't handle it.

Mei doesn't yell out of anger, like serious anger alot. When she finally yelled at Wukong because of the fire, all Wukong saw was Ao Lie screaming at him. (Stole that headcannon from a friend of mine. Thanks Ainnur you ruined my life.)

Mk brought up the fact that Wukong was willing to put the fire into himself and sacrifice himself, almost certainly killing himself in the process one time. Wukong kinda laughed and just said "Yeah, had to save the world bud. It's a shame Macaque messed up my plan, the world woulda been a little bit more peaceful if me AND Lady Bone Demon died." He wasn't even trying to admit suicidal feelings, he was just being honest. This scared the SHIT out of Mk because Wukong just admitted that he can and will kill himself if he feel he needs too.

Sandy often feels left out of the group and not as important but he doesn't wanna ruin everyone's fun so he stays quiet.

Bai he was ready to die when she was found by the Monkie Gang. She wasn't scared of death anymore.

Bai he was scared of Wukong when they first met face to face. Wukong apologized and explained himself. Over time she got a little more comfortable with him. She understands why he's apologizing but at that point she was so ready to die she didn't care who did it.

Redson wants to be around Sun Wukong again but he doesn't know how to start the relationship again. Same on Wukongs part but he's a bit more forward.

Macaque gets physical in fights fast. Partly cause his fights with Peng, Partly cause of his life before Wukong, Partly cause of Lady Bone Demon. If Macaque thinks a situation will get rough, he'll try to fight but if he thinks he'll lose he'll dip.

Princess Iron Fan unintentionally critiques Redsons's looks all the time. It messes with him alot so he's quite insecure.

Mei feels the need to always be upbeat and cheerful so Mk doesn't sink to far into depression. She can tell when he does this for her but she doesn't bring it up.

Pigsy's worst fear is that Mk won't come back home. The nightmares he's had of this is brutal.

I could make more but I'm sleeeeepppy. I'll make a part two one day though. Leave your own headcannons cause seeing other people break down these characters is so fun.

(How some people think Mk will be in season 5)

- ⭐️StarClown⭐️

263 notes · View notes

juniperskye · 5 months

Text

Why are you in my head? Pt. 2

Sneak Peek: Eddie and you are soulmates. The legend of soulmates is that you start to hear one another’s thoughts around age 16 – not all the time, but when you’re feeling a strong emotion. It simply flows out of you and into the other, the legend also states that the closer you are, the more you can hear them. **The events of season 4 did NOT happen** I did also use some of the dialogue

Bold are Eddie’s thoughts; Italics are reader’s thoughts. (mind you, they are essentially hearing both sets of thoughts)

Eddie Munson x Fem Sunshine! Reader (Soulmate AU)

Fluff/Angst - Part 1 Part 3 Part 4** Part 5

Word count: 2255

REQUESTS ARE OPEN - not edited - please be kind. Feedback is welcome if it's constructive!

Warnings: My blog is 18+, minors DNI, explicit language, no use of y/n, fem reader, mentions of drugs/sale of drugs/drug use, arguing, mentions of Eddie’s drug addict parents, teeny tiny glimpse into reader’s past, let me know if I missed any!

That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.

So, I have 3 more parts mapped out for this story, making it 5 total parts. Please, Please, PLEASE let me know if you want it!!? I would love to write it.

Holy shit.

You both let out a quiet chuckle.

All at once, colors were brighter, smells were sweeter, touches were softer. Everything came together in that moment; you couldn’t believe it. Here he was.

Before either of you could introduce yourself, the bell rang out, signaling that lunch was over. How long had you been standing here? Looking at him, seeing him for the first time, it made time stand still.

Don’t go. Not yet.

Neither of you made a move to leave. The cafeteria was slowly emptying around you, the reality of this moment creeping in. The second bell ringing brought you out of your thoughts, you looked into his eyes again and pulled back slightly.

“Shit! I can’t be late on my first day!” You hissed.

“Oh god O’Donnell is gonna kill me!” He facepalmed.

“You have O’Donnell this hour too? Also, you seem to be late to her class a lot.” You giggled.

“You’re in O’Donnell’s right now?” He questioned.

You nodded in confirmation. A grin took over his face, he grabbed your hand and began speed walking to her classroom. As you came up to the door, he looked over at you and nodded.

“Follow my lead.” He whispered.

You walked into the classroom, and everyone fell silent. Mrs. O’Donnell looked over at the two of you, and judging by her expression, she was less than impressed by your tardiness.

“Eddie Munson. I told you that if you were late to my class one more time I would be forced to fail you.” O’Donnell croaked.

“Mrs. O’Donnell, I understand that, but I couldn’t possibly let our new student wander the halls aimlessly.” He explained.

She looked at you, awaiting some sort of confirmation. When she was met with an enthusiastic nod from you, she finally relented. She looked down at her attendance chart and took note of the new student listed on it.

“Welcome to Hawkins High. Now both of you have a seat. Don’t make tardiness a habit.” She bit.

Eddie gestured for you to go first toward the back of the room. Once seated, he couldn’t take his eyes off of you. You couldn’t help the blush that crept its way onto your cheeks. His stare was keeping you from concentrating on Mrs. O’Donnell’s lecture about the debates you’d all be writing and then acting out in a week. You had no clue what the topics were, and you only hoped that she had put all the information on the handout that had been passed back to you.

God you’re so cute. I am so glad it’s you.

A giant shit eating grin enveloped Eddie’s face and you realized he must’ve heard that thought. You realized that you knew his name now, thanks to Mrs. O’Donnell, but he still didn’t know yours. You decided to pull out a pen and your notebook so you could write it down for him.

You caught his attention as you scribbled your name onto the paper, making sure to add a tiny heart next to it. You folded the paper up and passed it to him. If you thought his smile had been big before, well you were wrong, because you were sure this one would split his face in two.

A beautiful name for a beautiful girl.

Your face immediately heated and turned bright red. You just had to make it through a few more minutes, then this class would end, and you get to really talk to Eddie before your next one. Only a few more hours and you might actually get to spend some time with him.

You had called your parents after O’Donnell’s class to let them know you’d be getting a ride home with a friend. You didn’t want to tell them that you had met your soulmate just yet, you figured you should get to know him a little bit first.

When that final bell rang you all but ran out the front doors of the school. Eddie had told you to meet him at his van. As you glanced around the parking lot you could see the cliques, jocks hanging out by fancy sports cars, theater kids sitting on the picnic tables in the courtyard, and the Hellfire boys, well, they were loitering around Eddie’s big beat-up van.

His face lit up when he noticed you, that’s when you ran towards him. As you neared closer, he opened his arms and you leapt into them. He spun you around once before letting your feet land back on solid ground.

I want to kiss you so bad.

Please kiss me.

With that, Eddie leaned down and captured your lips in a sweet kiss. Eddie’s friends whooped behind you, which caused you to blush. You could see the confusion on some of their faces.

“Guys! This is her; this is my soulmate!” Eddie announced.

“Holy shit dude!”

“No way.”

“How much did you pay this girl to fake it for you?”

“Dude she’s way out of your league.”

“That’s awesome man!”

Eddie’s friends all spoke at once, it was hard to understand what any of them were really saying. But the gist of it was that most of them thought you were joking. You figured that his friends probably messed with him like this a lot, perhaps this was how their friendship was, lots of joking and messing around. Your heart hurt a little that his friends would assume you guys were lying, but you figured he’d tell you if it had upset him.

“Guys I’m serious! This is her, we met at lunch!” Eddie exclaimed.

“Hi.” You gave a small wave.

Eddie’s friends were bombarding the two of you with questions, faster than you could take in. It was pretty overwhelming, the way they were all talking over one another. Eddie was spitting out answers as fast as they were throwing questions, and your mind could not keep up.

This is…ok. Woah. Slow down. What is happening?

“Hey guys, I would love to sit and chat with you, but I think I am going to take my soulmate here out for a drive.” Eddie said, as his hand moved to your lower back, and he led you to the van.

“Thank you.” You whispered.

“You don’t have to thank me; I could hear how anxious you were. They can be a lot, especially when you’re not used to being around them all the time.” He laughed sheepishly.

“I appreciate it either way. The whole shared thoughts thing really comes in handy!” You huffed a laugh.

Eddie put his hand out to hold your as he drove you to wherever you were going…you should probably ask him where he is taking you.

That night, you and Eddie were out well passed curfew. You had talked about nothing and everything. You shared all your favorite things, your hopes and dreams, your deepest secrets. Sharing with Eddie was easy. Talking with him was like breathing, it came naturally – you guessed that was the whole “soulmate” thing at play.

It had been one week since that night and honestly, things had been really good. Eddie picked you up for school (he had yet to meet your parents yet), you sat with Eddie and the Hellfire guys at lunch, he walked you to your classes and waited for you at his van after school.

Things were perfect…or so you thought.

Soulmates had this sort of stereotype behind them. People always said soulmates didn’t fight, that the shared thoughts sort of helped to clear things up before they escalated to a full-blown argument. Things were meant to be easy, simple even. It was the fault of this stereotype that the argument threw you off guard.

The thought had slid into your mind during your last class of the day. You were sitting in history, listening to Mr. Warner drone on and on about a war, you were too distracted to remember which one it had been.

Two pre-rolls and a small baggie of shrooms…shit I gotta meet her in 5 minutes!

What the fuck is that about? You couldn’t help the upset feeling creeping into your veins. Pre-rolls had to be weed, and shrooms? Was Eddie buying drugs? And who is the girl he is meeting to get them from? Your mind was racing with all kinds of questions, you felt guilty about being mad at Eddie, but why would he keep this from you? You two had shared so much with one another in the last week.

When the final bell rang, you took your time getting your things from your locker and then slowly made your way to Eddie’s van.

As you approached it, you noticed a severe lack of brown curls. Your stomach sank, realizing that he still must be with her…whoever she was, buying drugs.

Why would he keep this from me?

The thought had hit Eddie like a freight train. He immediately kicked himself, he knew he should have told you about this side hustle of his, but he was scared you would judge him…but now you’d found out because his thoughts are so fucking loud and he’s a total jackass for keeping it from you.

He made quick work of the deal, it had been with some random theater girl and her boyfriend wanting to enjoy their weekend.

Eddie practically ran to his van to meet up with you and he noticed the far off look you were wearing.

“Hey baby!” Eddie reached to pull you into a hug.

“Hi Eddie.” You returned his hug with a noticeable lack of enthusiasm.

“Let’s go for a drive yeah? I want to talk to you about something.” Eddie suggested.

“Oh, yeah, okay.” You nodded.

The two of you got into Eddie’s van and he drove you to the clearing by the lake. There was a heavy awkward silence for a bit, your thoughts just circling round and around in your head. And judging by the look on Eddie’s face, he was clearly experiencing the same thing.

“I need to talk to you about something.” Eddie started.

“Okay…” You waited.

“I realize that a thought of mine may have made its way to you. A thought that had to do with something I have neglected to share with you yet. Listen sweetheart, I uh, I deal. It’s just to make some extra cash, ya know, to help Uncle Wayne out and to save until I have enough to get the hell out of this place.” Eddie rambled on.

“Wait a second. You’re the one dealing the drugs?” You asked.

“Yeah…did you think I was buying?”

“Eddie, you sell drugs? That’s illegal! I don’t understand, you could get a different job if you want to save money. Why would you do something so reckless?” You questioned.

“Woah. What the hell. I know it’s illegal, but I’m smart about it and didn’t you hear me? I am doing this for Wayne…and for us! Dealing makes me way more money than flipping burgers at big boy or renting out movies to asshole pre-teens. You’re my soulmate, I thought you’d at least try to understand!” Eddie snapped.

“Eddie, you purposely kept this from me. Which just proves to me that you know that this is wrong. I know that other jobs may not make you as much money, but at least they’re legal and don’t run the risk of you being sent to PRISON. Because that is where you would end up if you got caught Eddie. Prison! Did you ever stop to think about what that would mean to the people who care about you. To your uncle Wayne, to Dustin, to me? How could you be so careless?” You waved your arms as you spoke, growing more and more frustrated.

“Jesus. Of course you don’t get it!” Eddie sighed.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You couldn’t believe him right now.

“You were born with a fucking silver spoon in your mouth babe. You have never wanted for anything. Your parents are well off and you have always gone to good schools with new supplies and a nice backpack. I mean fuck, your parents moved you here, set up this incredible room for you, bought you a car, and still ask you what you need or want. I live in a trailer and before that, I was growing up in an even smaller trailer that my parents were doing and selling crack out of. I am doing what I have to, to make sure I am set up when it comes time for me to leave Hawkins.” Eddie was practically yelling by the end of his rant.

You sat there, your mouth opening, then closing again. You weren’t sure what to say. Eddie had clearly gone through some really difficult shit that you hadn’t been aware of, but he was also assuming that your life had been perfect, which couldn’t have been further from the truth.

This conversation had truly made you feel sick to your stomach. How was this meant to work. How was Eddie meant to be your soulmate if he thought so little of you. And how were you meant to be his soulmate if you couldn’t agree with what was obviously a part of his life. You clearly had a lot to think about and you couldn’t do that right now, not with the tension that was beginning to suffocate you in Eddie’s van. So you did what you thought best.

“Take me home please.” You whispered.

270 notes · View notes

wishmemel · 11 months

Text

so high school, ft. fushiguro megumi

synopsis: you’ve known megumi, nobara, and yuuji since freshman year of high school, but it's only recently that you and megumi have started realizing that your feelings might run deeper than friendship (that is, if either of you have the courage to make the first move...) tags: megumi x f! reader, non-curse au, this might be from megumi's pov idk, friends to lovers, all fluff, all characters are about 17, reader is an older sibling, megumi being his usual reserved self, reader is more bubbly, definitely self-indulgent (reader is a sanrio lover), probably ooc but this is just for fun, no beta reader so let me know if there’s any errors cw: i don't think there are any? please let me know if you spot anything, i'll add it! wc. 5.9k posted: 22/10/23 a/n: i've been working on this fic forever and i didn't think i was going to post it at first tbh... most of my fics stay in the drafts but i spent a little more than 2 weeks on this so i thought why not. also, yes, i know you can't legally drive a car in japan at 17, but we will ignore that for the sake of the fic!

Megumi chewed his lower lip, feeling the weight of the necklace stored in the lower pocket of his black backpack.

He and Yuuji had stopped by a comic book store before school started at the latter’s insistence—Megumi had already stopped by yesterday and picked up the copy he’d wanted in secret, stashed underneath his pillow—so he’d split from Yuuji and made his way to the Hello Kitty Shibuya store a few feet down. He didn’t want his friend to see the romance mangas that he was interested in, and he’d already spent most of his allowance on the two copies he’d bought yesterday. He didn’t want to be tempted any more.

Stepping into the store, dressed in all black, heavy eye bags present, his hair unkempt and spiky, he must have frightened the employees, but they’d done their best to greet him with a cheery smile and welcomed him inside. Megumi had pulled down his snapback and wandered around, wondering what he was doing flipping through a rack of cinnamoroll earrings.

By the time he was at the front counter, ears red, using the last of his allowance to buy a pink heart-shaped necklace of My Melody, he was convinced that he was insane. It was the last one on the shelf and it was… expensive, to say the least. He almost put it back on the shelf after seeing the price, but he hesitated, your sweet smile flashing in his mind. To see you rave and gush about him buying this necklace for you, which was supposedly out of stock everywhere online… Well, he really wanted to see your smile.

The employees at the register giggled over his flushed expression and prodded him about who he was buying it for, when he would give it to you, if you were already his girlfriend or if you were just a friend. They wrapped it in a pink box with a white satin ribbon and he left the store with the tiny amount of dignity he had remaining, his ears brick red from dodging all their suggestive questions.

He hardly remembers stuffing the box deep in his backpack, underneath a spare sweater he keeps in his bag, and rushing over to the manga store with his hands in his pockets, nonchalantly waiting for Yuuji outside as if he’d never left.

They’d walked to school together, chattering away: well, it was mostly just Yuuji talking. Megumi listened, but that was the way he preferred it.

He couldn’t remember a time when he’d ever been labelled talkative. Even as a child, Gojo, his guardian, had complained about Megumi’s blunt and silent nature. Yuuji didn’t mind the silence—it just meant that he had a chance to talk. Nobara despised it—she was always rolling her eyes or pressing him about one thing or the other. When it came to you, you liked the comfortable silence. You didn’t feel the need to fill it with conversation, and even when you did, it was because you wanted to, not because of some awkwardness that you felt between the two of you.

The two boys met up with you and Nobara, both of you bleary-eyed and early at school for once.

The two of you had this awful habit of staying up late and talking on the phone to get your homework done and then waking up hours after school had started, practically missing your first period classes.

Megumi and Yuuji used to wait outside the gate for you two in the beginning, but now they knew you too well and usually headed inside, talking at Megumi’s locker. On the off chance that one of you arrived on time, you knew exactly where to find them.

“Where were you two?” you asked, tilting your head to the side with a confused scrunch of your brows. “We looked for you at your locker, but you weren’t there. Nobara and I actually got to school on time! Aren’t you proud?”

Despite your weariness, your makeup was always done to perfection, uniform ironed and straightened, hair silky and shining underneath the scorching sun, so Megumi always thought you looked good.

It was just recently that you had started looking beautiful instead of nice and seemed more funny than even his best friend, Yuuji.

“Megumi and I ran to the comic book store,” Yuuji said, eyes lighting up with excitement. “I got the one-hundred-fifteenth edition of Human Earthworm. Basically, in this edition, Worm Man falls in love with this woman, but there’s a catch! She’s also half-worm, but she’s a worm from the top half of her body and the bottom half—“

“Itadori,” Nobara barks. “It’s too early in the morning for your SuperWorm stories.”

Nobara glares at him, looking like she hadn’t even had time to do her makeup.

Yuuji peers at her. “You look kind of… sick.”

Nobara’s eyes flare with uncontrolled rage and she leaps on Yuuji’s back, wrapping her legs around his waist as she pulls at his pink hair. “Do you want me to kill you?”

Megumi sighs while Yuuji laughs and dodges Nobara’s advances. You just giggle, your arm brushing against Megumi’s, though he wonders if he’s the only one who notices the warmth of your skin on his.

The bell rings, startling them, and Nobara slowly unlatches herself from Yuuji. You bound over to her and fix her hair and she allows you patiently.

“Good?” she asks, checking her phone’s reflection.

“Good?” Yuuji mocks, patting down his own hair.

“You both look hot,” you affirm, giggling at Nobara’s murderous look. You tuck a strand of hair behind her ear and check your phone. Your expression brightens as you glance over at Megumi. “Megs and I have Chem together first. We have a lab today, remember?”

He doesn’t return your smile, mostly because he’s starstruck at the sight, but nods slowly to let you know he’s heard.

Nobara groans. “Yuuji and I have Gym first,” she gripes.

You snort, flicking her cheek. “I don’t want to know why you would ever decide to take that class.”

“It’s not bad or hard,” she defends, but then she puts her fist up and grits her teeth. “But there’s this really stupid teacher who always picks on me for being a woman. He thinks I’m slower ‘cause I have a vagina and that makes me want to pull out his hair.”

“And he hates me because he always says I’m cheating during our run,” Yuuji complains. “It’s not my fault I’ve trained a lot!”

You laugh again before bouncing over to Megumi and wrapping a hand around his bicep. “Let’s go,” you insist. “We have to get the seat at the back before Miwa gets there again! Last time, she took my spot and she knows it’s my spot. I always sit there!”

You drag him with you, calling your goodbyes to a stunned Yuuji and Nobara, the two aware of how much Megumi hates physical touch. They wait, watching for their friend to remove your hand, but he never does. The two exchange nervous looks as they follow you through the front doors.

You’re sitting on a large boulder, your back to him, as you listen to Yuuji and Nobara’s insistent speech. He can almost imagine your confused look: your eyebrows scrunched, lips pouty.

The three of you haven’t spotted him yet, nonchalantly strolling towards you, hands tucked in his pocket, but even at this distance he can hear what the pair are telling you.

“You cannot touch Megumi,” Nobara insists. “He hates being touched.”

“The last time I tried to hug him, he squeezed my wrist so hard I thought it’d break,” Yuuji points out, cradling his arm. “He hates physical touch.”

Megumi sighs and rolls his eyes.

Just when he’d started getting close to someone, his cursed friends had to interfere. Even if their intentions are in the right place, can’t they mind their own business? He isn’t exactly the people-pleasing type: if he’s letting you touch him, it’s on purpose.

Both Nobara and Yuuji share exactly one brain cell, he thinks.

“Oh… really?” Is he imagining the hint of disappointment in your tone? “Ah, I didn’t know. Okay… I’ll try to keep my distance from now on. Thanks for telling me.”

“What are you three talking about?” he asks, stopping at your back.

You still as his leg brushes against your back. You tilt your head back, meeting his eyes with a tentative smile. He’s awestruck all over again, like every time you flash him that smile.

“You,” Nobara answers truthfully, taking his attention off of you.

Yuuji elbows her and laughs awkwardly. “She’s kidding. W-we were talking about Human Earthworm 5! Yeah, Human Earthworm. Obviously. I told them we should go see the fifth—“

You roll your eyes, watching him take a large step over the boulder to stand next to Yuuji. “I don’t know why they’re lying. We were just talking about where to go for lunch. Yesterday, Nobara and I got to pick and we went out for sushi, remember? We thought you guys might have a preference today.”

“That’s what we were talking about,” Yuuji affirms quickly with a painfully bright smile. Megumi isn’t so awestruck at the sight.

There’s a collective moment of silence; they’re all holding their breath, waiting for his answer.

He looks at you. You give him an innocent smile, blinking, and he finds it slightly frightening how easily you can lie to his face like that.

“Okay.” Megumi shrugs, accepting your words. “I’m in the mood for tteokbokki,” he says, despite his lack of allowance, if only to change the topic. He remembers Yuuji salivating over the thought of the street food yesterday in Math class, even after lunch.

“There’s a place near here that has corn dogs and tteokbokki,” Nobara mentions, checking the Maps app on her phone. “It’s a five minute walk.”

“I want tteokbokki with a boiled egg,” Yuuji announces eagerly.

“Tteokbokki is best with egg,” Nobara agrees. “Wanna share?”

“I want the whole egg,” Yuuji warns.

“You can spare me half,” she insists. “I want it too!”

“If we want to go, then we should go now,” you interrupt. “We only have thirty minutes left.”

Both Nobara and Yuuji start bickering over their order and you take that chance to sneak a quick glance at your phone, frowning at the recurring texts you’ve been receiving.

Megumi looks to you, eyes catching onto the worried crease between your eyebrows. You put away your phone at his watchful gaze.

“Sorry,” you say, feigning a smile. “Let’s go.”

He nods, wondering if he should ask you why you had that concerned look in your eyes. But Megumi isn’t good at words; he always stumbles and trips over them and can never quite get his thoughts out properly, unlike you. He’s always admired the eloquent and seemingly veritable way you speak, even when you lie. You’re always able to put on a mask.

He’s not so good with words, so in a rare display of bravery, he resorts to offering you his hand, as if extending his heart to you. His ears turn red as he looks away from you, realizing that Yuuji and Nobara have stopped arguing long enough to watch.

You blink uncertainly, then beam up at him and take his hand.

Your hand is warm in his and much much softer than the callouses that roughen his. Often, you offer him hand lotion in Chemistry and he hasn’t the heart to refuse you. You squeeze a dollop of the rose-scented cream in his hand before doing the same on your own. He gets the pleasure of watching you beam as the two of you rub the lotion into your palms. As a result of your generosity, his hands have been feeling softer than usual.

You thank him for the gesture and he just shrugs, bumping shoulders with you as you enter the address into your Maps app, trying to avoid the awkward atmosphere in the air.

“We can get two eggs,” Nobara attempts, to break the tension.

Yuuji agrees immediately with no argument.

The jewelry box feels especially heavy in Megumi’s bag.

When the three of you reach the restaurant, Yuuji and Nobara immediately fight over who’s paying for the extra eggs. Nobara insists that it should be Yuuji who pays because he should be the one paying penance, while Yuuji wants to split the cost in half. The two of them bicker a little more, embarrassing you and Megumi in front of the cashier before they place their order, and then continue to do so while taking a seat at a table for four.

You just sigh and muster your brightest smile to make up your friends. Megumi hovers closely behind you as you place your order, feeling slightly protective of you in front of the handsome male noting your order.

The man is tall, maybe taller than Megumi himself, and he has this air of easiness that Megumi instantly dislikes. What, with his eager grins and frequent winks sent your way, it’s clear that he just can’t—won’t—take a hint. His name tag reads Haru, which has many many meanings, but the one Megumi decides on is sun. He’s overwhelmingly sunny, much like Yuuji. But while Yuuji’s is a natural sunniness, a disposition that comes easily to him, Haru has this overbearing nature, like when he leans over the register to take your cash and purposely lets your fingers brush his. He has these charming chocolate-coloured curls and he keeps brushing them out of his big, dark eyes. Even through his instant dislike, Megumi can’t help comparing himself to the man.

He keeps wondering: Is this your type? Would you be interested in someone like this, so sunny and bright, almost as much as you are?

“A mozzarella corn dog with cinnamon sugar and the small tteokbokki, no egg,” you’re confirming, cutting through the jealous haze that is his thoughts. You glance back at him, finally taking his attention off of Haru. “Want anything?”

“Naah, I ate earlier,” he says with a shake of his head, sidling closer so that your back brushes against his chest. You startle slightly, but don’t move away. Haru’s smile falters a little. Megumi wants to stick his tongue out at him petulantly like a little kid who’s just won a game of rock, paper, scissors.

Somehow, Megumi can tell you see through his lie, likely because you’ve been with him for almost the entire day, but you don’t argue and he quickly pulls out his phone and distracts himself with the Weather app so that you won’t suspect him further.

A forecast of rain, he notices, startling.

He usually stores an umbrella or two in his bag because he knows you never bring one—it doesn’t rain as often as you’d like, but even when it does, you enjoy the water soaking you to the bone. Megumi usually watches you, Nobara, and Yuuji splash in puddles, his black umbrella already opened up to keep him dry. When the three of you get tired or cold, you can count on him to lend you one, and you often plaster yourself to his side, getting his clothes wet as your teeth chatter underneath the umbrella.

His fond expression breaks when you nudge his shoulder and the two of you make your way to the table where your friends are already seated, Nobara sitting cross-legged on the seat to face Yuuji, hands waving about animatedly.

“You know, you were checking that guy out for an awfully long time,” you tease with a cheeky smile.

Megumi’s mind doesn’t put two and two together. In fact, he feels like it might be short-circuiting. “What?”

None of what you’re saying makes sense to him—isn’t it so obvious that he’s interested in you?

“You know, Megs, if you’re gay, you just have to tell me,” you say solemnly, trying not to let your face crack. “I’m sure Nobara and Yuuji will also support you. Nobara likes girls, and, besides, that’s what friends are for. We’re here for you, even if you’re into the douchey cashier.”

“You thought he was douchey?” he blurts, the only thing that his brain seems to process.

“So, you are gay!” you exclaim, slapping your receipt onto the table where Nobara and Yuuji are sitting. They jump at the thump sound the receipt makes on the table, their conversation interrupted.

“Fushigoru’s gay?” Nobara asks skeptically with a raised brow as she turns around to face the two of you. An amused smile plays on her mouth. “I knew it. I called it first!”

“I said it first!” Yuuji protests. “Remember when he punched Kai in the face and I said that he did it because he thought his was was just too pretty to—“

“I’m not gay,” Megumi snaps, cheeks on fire. “And I don’t like Kai!”

You stifle a giggle, sliding your receipt in Nobara’s direction. “I got a corndog and tteokbokki. We can share.”

Nobara scans the receipt with a raised brow, letting Yuuji read off her shoulder. “Another phone number?” she teases slyly.

“What?” you and Megumi blurt at the same time.

Megumi snatches the receipt from her freshly-manicured nails and his eyes widen in horror at the series of numbers that are, indeed, printed at the bottom in black pen next to a winky emoji. Beside him, you cringe and Megumi crushes it up in his palm and shoves it into his pocket.

He raises a brow, sliding into the booth, and asks, “Did you want that?”

You shake your head almost immediately and follow after him, sitting across from Nobara. She taps the side of your sneaker with her own and you look her way long enough to see a mischievous glint enter her eyes.

“You’ve just been collecting phone numbers left and right, haven’t you?” Nobara sings, wiggling her brows at you to break the silence. “Quite the player, aren’t you?”

“This is the first number I’ve gotten all year,” you protest, cheeks flushing with embarrassment. “You know that—you guys are always with me!”

“What about the guy at the vending machine yesterday?” Yuuji asks.

“Kai?” you ask in disbelief. “He’s not—We aren’t—”

Megumi blurts, “Kai asked you out yesterday?”

You groan aloud, burying your face in your hands. “No, he didn’t! He just expressed his interest. I told him I didn’t like him and we left it at that.”

And here Megumi was thinking that the guy had learned his lesson—It was true that Megumi had punched him in the face, but not for the reasons that Yuuji predicted. If Yuuji had truly heard what Kai had said about you, he wouldn’t be nearly as lax with his teasing remarks. And, fine, it was true—Kai did have somewhat of a pretty face and Megumi did have this tiny inkling that Kai had feelings for you, but he’d done his best to ignore that small, jealous whisper and tuck it aside. He never imagined that Kai would act on his feelings.

Maybe Megumi hadn’t punched him hard enough.

Megumi removes his snapback and places it on the table, rubbing the material between his fingertips to soothe the burning in his chest.

Yuuji raises an eyebrow, a mischievous smile playing on his mouth. He looks like he’s about to make another unnecessary comment, but he’s interrupted by Haru, the cashier, serving them their lunch on a long, silver tray.

You make eye contact with him and suddenly regret your decision to sit on the outside of the booth when he smiles at you for long moments while serving, explaining each and every dish with precise detail to you and only you. He flatly ignores your friends and keeps his eyes locked onto you, even while serving—you’re half afraid he might drop something that way. On the positive side, he knows exactly what he’s talking about—each dish, each flavour, each part is explained down to a T.

You know more about canned Coca-Cola now than you ever have in your entire life. Who knew that the drink used to contain cocaine before 1929? Not you. But you’re thinking you could use some right now to get out of this awkward situation.

On the negative side—Yuuji is stifling his laugh, Nobara looks like she might explode any moment now, and Megumi… Megumi is glaring daggers at the man who ignores the icy look and continues his long-winded speech.

You break eye contact and try not to roll your eyes as you lock gazes with Yuuji across the table. He gives you a knowing look, pressing his trembling lips together to hold in the laughter that dances in his eyes.

He seems to be saying this is all your fault.

You just sigh, a smile tugging at your lips. “I’ll pay for your eggs," is what you mouth back at him.

Yuuji’s smile widens and he makes out, “Deal!”, right back at you.

Haru has only just moved on to explaining how tteokbokki is made in their kitchen when Megumi tucks his black snapback onto your head, bringing it down to cover your view. He opens his mouth to argue but is interrupted by Nobara who snaps, “I think we know what we ordered. And Chef doesn’t seem like it’s part of your job description.”

The silence that befalls the restaurant makes your face burn hot with embarrassment. You sigh and cover your face with your hands, wishing a hole would appear in the floor so you could crawl into it, roll around, and just die.

Megumi is not sure whether to feel grateful to Nobara for speaking up or annoyed because he was going to say something first.

Haru mumbles, “It’s not. I’m a server.”

“I think we can handle it from here,” Yuuji coughs awkwardly.

“Thank you,” you mutter under your breath, nudging Megumi with your knee.

“Thanks,” Megumi repeats tersely, unpleasantly reminded of the existence of social etiquette.

“Men take a hint,” Nobara mutters, glaring at Haru’s retreating back. “Level: impossible.”

You snort under a breath and point a set of packaged chopsticks at her. “And you made fun of me for rejecting Kai. He also wouldn’t take a hint and was incredibly insistent—I mean, what kind of guy waits outside of class for you every. single. day. after you reject him?”

Nobara slides her tteokbokki in her direction, seeing as how all of the dishes are placed in a spot advantageous to you. You give both her and Yuuji a pair of chopsticks, then push Megumi’s smaller tteokbokki dish towards him.

“Megumi and I wait outside your classes for you,” Yuuji points out, breaking apart his chopsticks with a skeptical eyebrow raised.

Indeed, Megumi is frozen, awaiting your response with bated breath.

Do you find him creepy or weird when he waits for you? He’d always thought you might appreciate having someone to walk to your classes and chatter with, especially when Nobara isn’t around. He hadn’t considered the fact that you might think of him as a creep…

“You and Megumi don’t count,” you insist, glancing at him with your brows furrowed. “We’re friends. It’s different. Kai would bring me a different flavoured chocolate each day and deliberately hand it out in front of a group of guys that are known to gossip. He’d make these stupid comments, put his hand on my shoulder, and act like we were dating.”

You unwrap a set of chopsticks, snap them in half and offer them to Megumi who takes them with a troubled look.

“Stop it,” you argue, nudging his leg with yours. “I already told you: I’m uncomfortable when Kai does it. You guys are my friends—it’s not any different than when Nobara waits for me.”

“Preach,” Nobara says solemnly, shoving another rice cake in her mouth. Yuuji startles and protests at the fact that he’s been too busy conversing with you to even have a bite, but Nobara just sticks her tongue out at him petulantly.

So now he’s being compared to Nobara, Megumi sulks. He’s not sure which is worse—being likened to a creep or to Nobara.

You nudge him with your elbow this time, shooting him an effortless smile. “Come on, cut out the whole protective older brother thing. I can see it in your face. Nothing happened, Megs.”

Megumi starts, then just nods, though he hadn’t been thinking of Haru. Unfortunately, your words do nothing to ease his mind.

Now you’re referring to him as your older brother… He can’t say he’s not used to it, but… he doesn’t want to be your older brother, nor does he want to act like one.

Nobara smirks. “Yeah, Megs, listen to your—”

He kicks her shin from across the table and her eyes blow wide. “Hey! You didn’t do anything when…” Nobara’s train of thought is cut off when Yuuji elbows her. She settles for glaring at Megumi with a look that says I’ll get you back.

Megumi looks indifferent to her nonverbal threat as he takes the first bite from his meal. Seeing him eat spurs you into action and you open up the container with your mozzarella corn dog.

He knows you see Nobara as a fun, sister-like figure: someone you can laugh with, go shopping with, and call whenever you need advice, gossip, or a pick-me-up. With Nobara, your time flies by in seconds, the two of you always busy giggling and laughing on FaceTime.

You see Yuuji as a younger brother: someone to indulge and take care of, especially because Megumi doesn’t humour him and Nobara bickers with him day and night, much like a sibling would. You ruffle his hair when you’re pleased with him, making him beam, and you graciously tag along to the movie theater with him when a new Human Earthworm movie is released, since he and Nobara staunchly refuse whenever Yuuji pleads.

So, maybe Megumi’s role has been predetermined from the start. He’s always been overprotective of his friends and he nags like a mother hen, especially when it comes to you. Whenever you text him that you’re going out, accompanied with a few pictures, asking him what to wear, he always makes sure that you have your location on, your ringer on, that you aren’t on silent mode, or you haven’t muted his texts. He makes sure he knows exactly where you’re going, when you’ll be back; he makes sure his phone is always nearby so he never misses a text from you, in the rare case that you might message him to pick you up. After all, he is your group’s designated driver. He figures you might need him once in a while.

He chews his rice cakes slowly, trying to ignore the burn in his chest. He glances over at you, busy in conversation. The three of you are used to his frequent silence; you don’t take it as odd anymore, nor do you press for him to join the conversation. You all know he’ll speak up when he wants to.

Is he overbearing?

Actually… he’s not unlike you, in that sense.

You’re the first to remind Yuuji, as always, that he’s left his phone in Megumi’s car, or his books in the classroom, or that his hoodie is in his locker, as always, but you’d picked it up for him because you knew he’d forget. Before he can even tell you that he’s lost his pencil for the third time this week, you’re pressing one into his hands with a skeptical eyebrow raise that asks, anything else? He’s like a little puppy that you look after when no one else will.

With Nobara, he’s seen you often calling her when she’s alone in a taxi and she texts you that the driver is being weird. You stay on call with her, purposely raising your voice loud enough for the driver to hear you ask repeatedly, “Where are you? When are you getting here? We’re all waiting for you.” You always wait on her text that tells you she’s reached home safe before your shoulders loosen and you feel some of the tension leave you.

Before Megumi goes out, you’re over at his house, fussing over his clothes (the same ones he wore a day ago), his hair (that never seems to settle, no matter how much gel or hairspray you use), his face. You pinch his cheeks, tell him to go wash his face again because he still looks half-asleep, toss him a rose-scented lotion tube, straight from your bag, and insist that he keep it. You completely baby him.

And when the four of you go out for lunch, more often than not, it’s you who orders for the rest of them, Megumi tagging along sometimes, if only to insist on paying. You half-listen to their conversation, half-wonder when the food will arrive. And when it finally does, you’re the first to urge them to start: handing them their utensils, breaking apart their chopsticks, and reminding them to eat well.

You’re used to looking after others and putting their needs before your own, as the eldest daughter of your family. Megumi is overprotective as well, but he’s also hyper-independent, used to caring for himself without anyone else. Around you, he always finds his demeanor molding, softening—he acts more spoiled, more sulky, almost as if he’s trying to catch your attention, to make you fuss over him. And you do. You always indulge him, though he’s sure you can see right through his act.

You’re laughing at something Yuuji says when you notice him looking at you, as if he’s seeing you in a new light. You hold your corn dog up to him, a sweet smile on your face.

Megumi blinks, ears reddening, as he shakes his head. “N-no, I wasn’t—“

“Have some. It’s good,” you insist, and he can’t refuse you.

So he leans forward in his seat, his thigh brushing against yours—he shouldn’t feel so flustered by that action, right? But you’re still wearing his snapback on your head and it looks ridiculous on you, oversized and just barely hanging onto your head.

Sharing clothes or accessories isn’t new between the two of you either, nor are brief touches like his leg against yours. For some reason, he’s starting to feel hyper-aware of his every movement around you in a way that he doesn’t feel around Nobara, or even Yuuji.

Often, when the four of you have sleepovers or movie nights, typically held at Megumi’s house (he’s always playing host, but he’s grateful that you help out by always arriving an hour earlier with bags of snacks. Gojo adores you for that reason alone), you don’t shy away from physical touch. You’ve fallen asleep on his arm more times than he can count, laid your legs in Yuuji’s lap while the four of you argue over which movie to watch, and squeezed Nobara’s hand throughout countless horror movies.

And yet… Your thighs brushing through your jeans as he leans close is somehow the most intimate feeling he’s had since his kindergarten crush had hugged him tight on the playground in front of his friends.

You hold your corn dog up to his mouth and he takes a bite, relishing in the stretch of mozzarella as you pull the snack away from him with a laugh. He keeps his eyes locked on your lit smile, unaware of Yuuji and Nobara’s troubled gaze trained on him.

You’re like the sun; wherever you go, you shine so bright, making him want to reflect you: he can’t help smiling back.

Sharing food has never been a big deal between the four of you—well, three of you. Before you had found them and became involved in their little friend group, Megumi used to firmly refuse to drink from the same bottle as Nobara or eat from the same spoon as Yuuji, on account of “hygiene”, he claimed. Then you’d stumbled and tripped right into their world and the easy way you’d steal Yuuji’s gatorade from right under his nose and take a sip or share a bite of the cake pop you’d brought for lunch with Nobara had been enough to make him loosen up too, just enough. Eventually, he’d forgotten about that little rule, all because of you, with no shortage of teasing from Yuuji and Nobara.

He drinks from the same glass as you when you’re over at his house, and when you find yourself parched at school, he’s the first to offer to run to the convenience store and back in time for your first period class, Chemistry, which you share with him. The two of you often pass the drink back and forth in class and he tosses it out afterwards when you walk out together, complaining about the homework or the in-class lesson.

Although, he wonders absentmindedly, if you’re eating from the same spoon as him or sipping from the same can from him, can that be counted as… an indirect kiss?

His eyes are inexplicably drawn to your glossy lips as you beam at him and put together a string of words that flies right over his head. What if he leaned forward, just a little? The sparkles on your lips are illuminated by the warm lighting of the restaurant and he finds himself musing about the flavour of your gloss.

Cherry, perhaps? He’d like cherry. Or even strawberry might be nice, sweet and sugary, he thinks. Anything would do, if it was you.

You call his name again, snapping him out of his daze, and he stammers, “W-what?”

You giggle, tucking his snapback onto his head and covering his face. Why doesn’t he have a voice recording of that precious laugh of yours? “Idiot. I was asking if it was good!”

“Oh. Yeah. Yeah, it’s great,” he mumbles dazedly with no idea of what you’re talking about as he adjusts his hat.

He blinks, trying to clear the fog in his head as you wait expectantly, ignoring Yuuji and Nobara’s snickers in the background.

“I-it was really good. The corn dog, I mean,” he clarifies, gaze dipping to your lips again. “I liked it. But… Lunch is on me next time.”

You snort, looking satisfied with his answer. “Lunch is always on you. Pigs won’t start flying if you let me pay for your meal once.”

Megumi has what you call textbook manners when it comes to things like this; he’s overly stiff, overly formal. He can’t remember the last time he’d let any of you pay for him without returning the favour. It’s more than just a matter of his pride and ego (though that certainly plays a hand.) It’s the fact that he can’t fathom depending on any of you like that. He can’t accept this level of warmth or care without his mind whispering that it’s only a matter of time before you’ll all leave, just like his father, just like his mother.

He exhales deeply and pops open the can of Coca-Cola that you bought him. The bubbles hiss and fizzle before settling down. As soon as they do, he slides the can towards you with a jerk of his head: an order to take the first sip.

You give him an indulgent smile and follow his instructions, leaving behind a mauve stain on the can. Then, you push the can towards him with the same head jerk motion that he gave you. He resists the temptation of giving in to your antics and smiling as a result.

You’re messing with his head, he groans silently. He’s never going to be the same after this. More than that, he thinks, glancing towards Nobara and Yuuji who observe him with matching knowing looks, the two of them are never going to let him live this down.

Maybe you don't know it yet, but Megumi is yours.

comments and reblogs are appreciated!

409 notes · View notes

wangxianficfinder · 1 month

Text

I'm in the mood for...

Aug 13th

~*~

1. Any wangxian fanfics with straight wei wuxian having a sexuality crisis over lan wangji?

ao3 has been erroring out for me when I try to get to my bookmarks , maybe because I have so many? but for #1 , there is a tag "straight boy wei ying" /"Wei wuxian in denial about sexuality" that will give great fics. when I can get to my bookmarks I'll add my faves

show me how you do that trick by ilip13 (E, 70k, WangXian, Modern Setting Porn with Feelings, The Porn Is the Plot, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, straight boy wwx, with an aspec twist, Sexuality Crisis, Voyeurism, Blow Jobs, Hand Jobs, Masturbation, Anal Sex, Switching, Top/Bottom Versatile | Switch WangXian, Slow Burn, Except for the sex that part is on fire soooo fast, sexuality realization, Feelings Realization, Happy Ending)

The Cause Of This Fair Gift In Me Is Wanting by Alliandra (E, 47k, WangXian, LQY/QS, Modern AU, High School, College/University, Time Skips, Slow Burn, Pining, LWJ POV, LWJ Fucks, WWX dates, "Straight Boy" WWX, Homophobia, Non-Graphic Violence, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Implied/Reference, d Suicide, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Overstimulation, Light Bondage, Blow Jobs, Masturbation, Getting Together, Ableist Language, WWX Has ADHD, Autistic LWJ, Queer Themes)

I search myself (I want you to find me) by ilip13 (E, 22k, WangXian, Modern AU, Fluff and Smut, The Porn Is the Plot, Compulsory Heterosexuality, Self-Discovery, Adolescent Sexuality, Slight Gender Feels, Masturbation, Fantasizing, Voyeurism, (sort of), Exhibitionism, (also sort of), Lingerie, Explicit Het Content)

~*~

2. Hi! Do you have any fic recs for fic where wwx come back as someone else other than mxy? I remember seeing one where he ends up as Qin Su @fysmiin

You still sound like a song by Moominmammashandbag (M, 64k, WIP, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Ghost!WWX, Mystery, LWJ plays inquiry, AU from after the Wens came to Lotus Pier, Most people lived, not everybody died, Angst with a Happy Ending, river spirit!WWX, Angst and Feels, description of murder, imminent smut, Execution, Dogs, Poisons, Discussion of Attempted Murder, BAMF WWX, Family Feels)

To Deserve So Much More by renysen (T, 19k, wangxian, getting together, one big happy family, no angst, getting engaged, family feels, female bodied WWX) ofc summons wwx to defend her family's besieged manor.

🔒Femme Fatale by coffeepie (E, 76k, WIP, WWX/WC, WWX/WRH, WWX/WZL, WWX/JGS, Porn, Smut, Possession, Crack Treated Seriously, Humor, Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It, Penis In Vagina Sex, Anal Sex, Masturbation, Aphrodisiacs, Rough Sex, Minor WangXian, Canon Divergence, Oral Sex, Pre-Sunshot Campaign, Strangulation, Object Insertion, Exhibitionism, Voyeurism, Blood and Injury, Somnophilia, Belly Bulge) WIP. wwx wakes up in wlj's body before the sunshot campaign. cw lots of sex with wc.

the problem with authority by isabilightwood (M, 139k, wangxian, qingli, Canon Divergence, Sacrifice Summon, slightly dark!JYL, wq lives because i said so, Angst with a Happy Ending, Chronic Pain, Mild Sexual Content, Top/Bottom Versatile | Switch WangXian, manipulative relationship (background xiyao)) qs summoning jyl-centric but includes someone else summoning wwx as well

patching the road with vague intentions by loosingletters (T, 39k, WIP, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Humor, Developing Friendships, WWX Resurrected By Others, Trans WWX, Case Fic, POV WWX, POV LQR, Family, Good Uncle LQR, Hurt/Comfort, Golden Core Reveal, Slow Burn, Canon-Typical Violence, MXY Lives) WIP. ofc lwj was arranged to marry after wwx's death summons wwx. lwj hasn't appeared yet.

The Housewife's Guide to Causing Chaos by dvasva (M, 127k, WIP, WangXian, Canon-Typical Violence, Functionally Trans Character, Mild Sexual Content, Domestic Fluff, Love Confessions, Transphobia, Good Parents LWJ and WWX, Pining, WWX is a Tease, Grief/Mourning, Body Dysphoria, Fake Marriage, Canonical Character Death, Misunderstandings, Doting LWJ, Canon Divergence, Arranged Marriage, WWX is not in MXY's body, Misgendering, Mild Angst, Assumptions, Comedic Elements, non-sexual nudity, Blood, Discussion of Various Bodily Functions, Cloud Recesses Shenanigans, 4 years of mourning instead of 13, Méishān Yú Sect, POV Multiple, Corporal Punishment, Trans WWX, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, pregnancy mention, Timeline What Timeline, Sexual Harassment Threats) WIP. ofc lwj was arranged to marry after wwx's death summons wwx. wangxian starts early.

Friends, Sabers, and Other Essentials for Solving a Conspiracy by MeridianGrimm (T, 50k, NHS & WWX, LWJ & NHS, WangXian, Humor, Friendship, Love, Mystery, Canon Divergence, Smart NHS, WWX doesn't stay dead, LWJ gets a new friend, Happy Ending, Fix-It, To be clear the WangXian is mostly background, This fic is about friendship) NHS does a modified summoning

Karma's a Bitch (It's Me, I'm The Bitch) by loosingletters (T, 8k, SS & OC, WWX & OC, Minor Character Death, Canon Divergence, Suicidal Thoughts, Resurrection, Moling Su Sect, Cultivation Sect Politics, Body Dysphoria, WWX is NOT in MXY's Body, Unreliable Narrator, Assassination) Su sect oc summons wwx.

❤️ Beauty and the Boot by PTchan (T, 44k, wangxian, summoned by f!oc, Canon Divergence, Romantic Comedy, Genderbending, Denial, Fem!WWX, WangXian kids, Crack-ish, WIP) seemingly-abandoned WIP. OFC summons wwx.

So You Want to Start a War by JaenysBloodcourt (T, 41k, WIP, MY/QS, MY/WWX, WangXian, Reincarnation, Half-Sibling Incest Mention!, QS does the ritual instead of MXY, WWX as a woman, MY Is His Own Warning, Canon Divergence, Impersonation, Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Please check the notes before reading a chapter, Timeline What Timeline, WWX Has PTSD) WIP. qs summons wwx.

sweet hay and the flowers rising by Shializaro (T, 4k, WangXian, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Mentions of Violence, Alcohol, Humor) qs summons wwx.

Crowded by nirejseki (G, 1k, NHS & WWX, wangxian, LWJ/NHS/WWX, canon divergence, different body offering ritual, atypical relationship dynamics, sentient sabers) NHS does a modified summoning (short fic)

❤️ The Book’s Cover by Eudoxia (E, 50k, wangxian, canon divergence, WWX not in MXY’s body, canon retelling, humor, demisexual LWJ, genderqueer WWX, smut) OFC summons WWX. this is probably my favorite one of all these.

Everyanything by deliciousblizzardshark, lingeringdust (E, 46k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Franken-canon, Gender Identity, Gender Dysphoria, Trans WWX, Protective LWJ, Accidental Baby Acquisition, Canon-Typical Misogyny, Fluff and Angst, Vaginal Sex, Canon-Typical Major Character Death) Qin Su summons WWX.

Chapter 1-23 of The Tales of Despereaux by stiltonbasket (T, 36k, WIP, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Additional Warnings In Author's Note, (when applicable)) Chapters 1-23 are "What if Qin Su summoned Wei Wuxian?" A prologue is linked in the author's note.

Wei Wuxian keeps / gets his OG body / Resurrected by someone other than MXY Comp

Five People Who Never Summoned Wei Wuxian by EHyde (G, 3k, wangxian, Canon Divergence, 5+1 Things, Angst, [Podfic] Five People Who Never Summoned Wei Wuxian by sisi_rambles)

~*~

3. Hey! I have only once asked for a fic before but this is for a Itmf , can you recommend any dark lwj fic? Not just after wwx’s death but lwj protecting wwx or joining him in demonic cultivation, even better if wwx runs yiling wei sect^-^

A Matter of Time series by mrcformoso (E, 84k, wangxian, time travel fix-it, graphic depictions of violence, underage, LWJ pov, JC pov, dark LWJ, manipulation, grooming, teen body adult mind for LWJ, happy ending for wangxian, problematic consensual underage sex, blood & violence, insane LWJ, manic LWJ)

🔒 Flawed and Free by Vrishchika (E, 18k, wangxian, major character death, time travel fix-it, dark LWJ, dark LXC, dark gusu lan, temporary character death, not JC friendly, angst, hurt/comfort, WIP)

🔒 At heart by apathyinreverie (M, 36k, WangXian, WIP, Dark LWJ(Ish), Amnesia, WWX gets to be Not Okay after the BM, Hurt WWX, Recovery, Caring, Protective LWJ, Possessive LWJ, some definite manipulation, but not everything is as it seems, not nearly as dark as the tags make it sound, Canon Divergence, Golden Core Revea, Golden Core Transfer Fix-It, kind of, Domestic WangXian, Fluff, WWX Goes to Gusu, Possessive WWX, WWX happily atticwifing away, Sunshot Campaign, BAMF WWX, BAMF LWJ)

Until The World Embraces Me Home by azri (T, 5k, WIP, WangXian, Canon Divergence, YLLZ LWJ, LWJ Has No Golden Core, Role Reversal, Not LXC Friendly, Not JC Friendly, Not cultivation world friendly overall tbh, Sunshot Campaign, Friends to Lovers, Temporary Character Death, WangXian Get a Happy Ending)

Corrupted Core by The_Gourmet_Gamer (M, 16k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Hurt/Comfort, Golden Core Reveal, Grief/Mourning, Blood and Injury, Character Death, Sad with a Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, Post-First Siege of the Burial Mounds)

~*~

4. Hello 👋

I'm in the mood for Twitter wangxian fic threads,i don't mind it if it's modern or not, but I don't like bottomji or switch wangxian

You might enjoy our Twitter comp

~*~

5. Hello! Thanks for your work. Are there any Wangxian fics set at the Olympics? @chalionkat (previous ask moved to FF - mod C)

Our Sports AU Compilation has a Olympics au section you can check out 😊

and so my heart beats wildly by lily_winterwood (E, 106k, WangXian, JYL/JZX, Modern Cultivation, Rivalry, Competition, Competition-Set Fic, Athletes, Multimedia, Miscommunication, frenemies to lovers, Rivals to Lovers, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, Seemingly One-sided But Actually Mutual Pining, Oblivious WWX, Competitive Cultivation, Anal Sex, First Time, Angst with a Happy Ending, Olympics, Inappropriate use of an Olympic gold medal, Breathplay, Rough Sex, Food Porn, Tanabata, Lily’s back on her Qixi bullshit, Switching, Bottom LWJ) this has cultivation Olympics

🔒 Dance Me to the End by venagrey (E, 35k, WangXian, Modern, Skating, 2021-2022 Figure Skating Season, No Pandemic, teammates to friends to lovers, Eventual Smut, mixed signals: on ice, Oblivious WWX, Bisexual WWX, mortifying ordeal of being known, slightly nonlinear timeline, Unreliable Narrator, gratuitous descriptions of skating, first time nudes, Accidental Phone Sex, WWX is Very Flexible, YOI homage, not actually a crossover, IRL skating homage, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, a little gnc for added zest, inappropriate use of medals, Rimming, Winter Olympics)

~*~

6. Hi! This is for ITMF where WWX is a king maker/advisor/spy master or something like Foot on the brakes, screaming there's a red light by Lookingkindofdumb or Copying Scriptures by chiyukimei

Thank you! @idontknowwhattowriteforusername

🔒 Half Agony, Half Hope by queenklu (T, 105k, WangXian, LXC/JGY, JC/WQ, JYL/JZX, LXC/NMJ, Jane Austen Fusion, persuasion au, Pining, Broken Engagement, Secrets, Espionage, Child Injury, Terrible Parents (YZY & JFM), Past Child Neglect) maybe? Wei Ying was a spy during the war.

~*~

7. Hello!!. i need need need to know if theres any more fics like A Street Kid Named Wuxian where wwx isnt adopted by any sect and just grows up on the strrets/ poor or an orphan @yesibest

A Thousand Things by tickertape (M, 108k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, WWX Isn’t Adopted by the Jiāngs, Developing Friendships, lots of OCs, miscommunication and misunderstandings (they’re idiots your honor), Nightmares, Hurt/Comfort, Panic Attacks, Cloud Recesses Shenanigans, Slow Burn) fits but Wei Ying lived in Yiling until he's around 17 and then gets invited to train with the Lans for a year. It doesn't go into a lot detail about his life on the streets but he is poor throughout his childhood and into his teens.

Ad Oblivione by Baph, HikariNoHimeWriter (M, 70k, WangXian, Time Travel Fix-It, Temporary Character Death, Canon-Typical Violence, POV Multiple, Hurt/Comfort, Grief/Mourning, Identity Reveal, Golden Core Reveal, Cultivation World Critical, Not JC Friendly, Abusive YZY, Angst with a Happy Ending) link in #14 Not sure if this fits as while WWX does grow up on the streets without being adopted into a sect, it's down to time travel, with his soul being sent back to his child body, so he has knowledge of the future & cultivation, so he gets to cheat a little & be more than a normal street kid

~*~

8. Hello, I was wondering if you and the lovely community could help me find selkie-style creature fics? In myth, a selkie is a seal creature who can shed its fur and walk on land as a human. Whoever holds the fur has control over the selkie because they cannot transform back without it. So I am looking for similar themes in WangXian fics! I just read Burn It All Down by nekojita which suggested this would happen with Jiang Cheng holding one of Wei Wuxian’s dragon scales, but the wip hasn’t been updated to finish that portion of the story! So I come to you, looking for more “I control you as long as I hold this part of you captive” stories. Thank you for any recs you can suggest! <3

never love an anchor by tardigradeschool (T, 31k, WangXian, Selkies, No Powers, Historical, Hurt/Comfort, Depression, Pining, Angst, Happy Ending, The Inherent Eroticism of the Sea, PTSD, Presumed Dead, Drowning)

💙 this river runs to you by sundiscus (T, 53k, WangXian, Modern with Magic, Mutual Pining, Dragons, Literal Sleeping Together, Tender wound tending) this might work? It has Dragon!LWJ whose dragon is missing. While no one actually uses it to control him in the story, the possibility that someone could is a major driver of the plot.

Lanterns To Guide You Home by cuttlefeeeeeeeeesh (T, 7k, WangXian, Mutual Pining, Mythology, Selkie AU, Fisherman LWJ, Selkie WWX, Sorta Established Relationship, Fluff, Soft (tm)) might like Lanterns to Guide You Home? It's a bit of a twist on the selkie trope, being less about captivity and more about wangxian reuniting/mutually pining years after being married, but I think it would still appeal to a reader who likes selkie stories. And it's a lovely fic!

~*~

9. Hi! For the ITMF, I was wondering if there are any fics where WWX knows a bit more about MXY when he wakes up in his body? By viewing MXYs memories maybe, or something like that? Just, I want him to be able to act like MXY better and understand his situation better. Is there anything like that? Thanks in advance! @hikato-chan

~*~

10. Hi! This is for ITMF. Is there a fic where WWX tells JYL (or someone else really) that he trust LWJ but not his clan/sect? Thank you! @idontknowwhattowriteforusername

~*~

11. ITMF a fic that takes place during the Cloud Recesses study arc, in the scene where WWX gets LWJ drunk. Something goes different: a kiss? A love confession? A fist fight? @luliaka

Cartwheels In Cloud Recesses Series by ShanaStoryteller (Not Rated, 23k, WangXian, CSSR/WCZ, CSSR and WCZ Live, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, Cloud Recesses Shenanigans)

You Are My Euphoria by orphan_account (M, 17k, wangxian, canon divergence, fluff, making out, 5+1, pining)

it’s just (aah) a little crush (crush!) by sweetlolixo (T, 9k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Romance, Fluff, Pining LWJ, Humor, Courting Rituals, Teen Wangxian)

~*~

12. itmf some concubine wwx, following canon as mich as possible? something along the lines of the concubine mo series by enigmatree

~*~

13. Itmf:

A) some wwx realizing that he's been abused as a child (for example: Madame Yu) and having to accept that actually the adults in his life kind of suck (no Jiang Yanli bashing pls ♡)

B) wwx being raped and his recovery

Thank you 💕

13A)

🔒💙 Holding shreds by barisan (T, 5k, WangXian, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, No Sunshot Campaign, Body Swap, Not for sexy shenanigans, Chronic Pain, Hurt WWX, Hurt LWJ, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Abusive YZY, Bad Parent YZY, Bad Parent JFM, Good Uncle LQR, Hurt/Comfort, Medical Inaccuracies, POV WWX, Angst with a Happy Ending, Jiāng Family Bashing, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Getting Together, Smart WWX)

🔒 in the shadow of moonlit flowers by Reverie (cl410) (T, 56k, wangxian, LXC/NMJ, Cloud Recesses, LWJ & NHS Friendship, Developing Relationship, POV LWJ, Minor Injuries, Autistic LWJ, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, aka the Madam Yu warning, Genius WWX, Light Angst And Hurt/Comfort, WWX Protection Squad, Gusu Lan Sect, Slow Burn, Protective LWJ, LWJ-centric)

🔒 Warming up (to him) by barisan (T, 9k, LQR & WWX, WangXian, Hypothermia, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, Temporary Character Death, Medical Inaccuracies, YZY Abuses WWX, JFM Bashing, pre-wangxian, Good Uncle LQR, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort)

so i cut the shackles and changed my name by MichelleFeather (T, 9k, WangXian, LQR & LWJ, LQR & CSSR, LQR & WWX, CSSR/WCZ, WWX & The Lan Clan, WIP, WWX Leaves the Yunmeng Jiang Sect, WWX is a Lan, Good Uncle LQR, Supportive LQR, Protective LQR, Non-Graphic Rape/Non-Con, JFM & YZY Bashing, Jiang Family Bashing, Abusive Jiang Family, Running Away, WangXian Get a Happy Ending, Hurt WWX, Genius WWX, No Sunshot Campaign, Gusu Lan Sect Rules, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, Cultivation Sect Politics, Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Canon Divergence, Protective Gusu Lan Sect, WRH isn't a power hungry tyrant, mostly)

Just go forward like you mean it by tawaen (M, 101k, WangXian, WWX & WN &WQ, WWX & JYL, NHS & WWX, Canon Divergence, WWx does not attend the Wen indoctrination, WWX saves Lotus Pier, Inventor WWX, No Golden Core Transfer, Sect Leader JYL, JC Has No Golden Core, Bad Parents JFM & YZY, Not JC Friendly, but he gets a happier ending than canon so don't look here for bashing) WWX gets frustrated with how unconcerned JFM is regarding the Wens & ends up leaving. Features sect leader JYL

Dispersing Clouds by dreamingofcake (E, 283k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Genius WWX, Inventor WWX, Not Jiang Family Friendly, Abusive YZY, Canonical Child Abuse, Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn, Eventual Sex, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm (Background Character), Background Character Deaths, child deaths, Canon JC, Good Uncle LQR, Accidental Baby Acquisition, Cultivation Sect Politics, Homophobia, Heteronormativity, Feelings Realization, WWX is Not Oblivious) WWX realises he's been poorly treated by the Jiangs & defects. However it could be seen as JYL bashing depending on how you define bashing. She does ignore her family's treatment of WWX & later tries to stop his wedding to LWJ, but she's portrayed as meaning well & just wanting to avoid conflict, & believing she is saving him from a forced marriage. Up to you whether that counts as bashing

13B)

🧡 Heaven Has No Rage by flipfloppandas (M, 51k, WWX & YZY, JFM/YZY, implied wangxian, WWX/WC, WWX/others, rape/non-con, modern, hurt/comfort, protective YZY, good parent YZY, hospitals, medical procedures, vomiting, trauma) focuses more on the immediate aftermath Wei Ying being raped but does touch on the beginnings of his recovery.

feast and famine by luckymarrow (E, 49k, wangxian, rape/non-con, aftermath of gang rape, modern au, trauma, PTSD, medical procedures, rape recovery, non-consensual drug use, hurt/comfort, angst w/ happy ending, mind all the tags) Rape/recovery and the ripples across the friend group. JYL is the glue that holds everyone together. It's a gut-wrenching, amazeballs fic.

~*~

14. Hii, I'm itmf some good coming of age fanfics!

🔒 Flowers Blooming by Ilona22 (M, 35k, WangXian, Adoption, Prostitution, Family Fluff, Family Drama, Growing Up)

A Life Without Regrets by naqaashi (M, 128k, WIP, WangXian, Time Travel Fix-It, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Crack Treated Seriously, musical cultivation, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, Rogue Cultivator WWX, Murder Husbands, Happy Ending, PTSD, BAMF WWX, Cultivation Sect Politics, Worldbuilding, Módào Zǔshī & The Untamed Combination, No Yīn Iron, Genius WWX, Inventor WWX, Artist WWX, Musician WWX, Bad Parent JFM, Bad Parent YZY, Cultivation Theory, Sentient Burial Mounds, Dysfunctional Family, Grief/Mourning, Parent-Child Relationship, Angry WWX, Angst, No Golden Core Transfer, BAMF LWJ, Idiots in Love)

🔒 Life is Like a Stranger by through_shadows_falling (T, 69k, wangxian, Kid Fic, Child LWJ, Child WWX, First Meetings, Canon Divergence, Cute Kids, Orphan WWX, Autism Spectrum, Fix-It, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Alternate Canon, POV LWJ, Growing Up Together, WWX raised at Cloud Recesses, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Puberty, Growing Up, Coming Out, teenage angst, Wet Dream, Pining, This fic gets a little raunchier as the kids become teens, But it won’t get too explicit, Slow Burn, Friends to Lovers, Spanish Translation, Brief mentions/moments of WWX kissing others in chapter 22 but only on the cheek, also characters kiss WWX on the cheek in chapter 23, but his real first kiss is with LWJ, Перевод на русский | Translation in Russian)

~*~

15. Hey!!

So i was wondering if there are any fics where wangxian have a cute little couple’s argument..they make up in the end obv, i don’t really prefer heavy angst. Just a normal couple’s argument. @honestlyewww

tipping point by cherrywhiskey (M, 13k, WangXian, Established Relationship, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Married Couple, Married Life, Bickering, Idiots in Love, Fluff and Angst, Humor, Fights, Arguing, Making Up, Angry Kissing, Making Out, Modern AU, POV Alternating, Fighting)

you became my husband when i first laid my eyes on you by bunnylan (weiyingpretty) (G, 2k, WangXian, Modern AU, Modern Era, Fluff, Boyfriends, Cute, Tik Tok Challenge, Husbands, Established Relationship)

~*~

16. IMTF wangxian or any one of the two as (a) lawyers (b) teachers trying to hide their relationship from students (c) scientists (biologist, physicist, etc.) any kind

Thank you <3

16A)

🔒 a thousand fragile and unprovable things by theLoyalRoyalGuard (G, 5k, WangXian, Modern AU, Trans Male Character, Trans MXY, MXY Deserves Happiness, Best Dads Wangxian, Handwaving The Legal System With The Power of LWJ, A little bit of angst, mostly soft, Happy Ending, Gender Happiness, Let LWJ Wear Skirts Agenda, Additional Warnings In Author’s Note) Lan Wangji is a lawyer

Close to the Truth by Winglesss (M, 14k, WangXian, Modern AU, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Party, Ugly Holiday Sweaters, Romantic Comedy, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Homophobia, Tooth-Rotting Fluff) Lan Wangji is a lawyer

Scapegoat by Anonymous (E, 216k, WIP, WangXian, Modern AU, Trials, Lawyer LWJ, Defendant WWX, Courtroom Drama, False Accusations, Criminal Investigation, Threats of Violence, Hurt WWX, Protective LWJ, Childhood Trauma, Murder Mystery, Pining, Soft WangXian, Slow Burn, Domestic Bliss, Happy Ending, Found Family, Bad Parent YZY, neutral jc, Good Sibling JYL, neutral lxc, Bad Uncle LQR, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, POV Alternating, Top LWJ/Bottom WWX, Pining while fucking, Belly Bulge, Gentle Sex, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Neck Kissing, Eventual Smut, porn in chapter 15, Praise Kink, Homophobia, chapter specific TWs will be in top notes, Power Play, Power Imbalance, Wet Dream)

16C)

🔒 at first sight of the sun by sunflowersfield (T, 3k, WangXian, Modern, Coworkers, Fluff, Neurodiversity, Falling In Love, Getting Together, Happy Ending, First Dates, First Kiss, Hurt/Comfort) Lan Wangji is a researcher at a forest preserve in at first sight of the sun

A Cyborg’s Three Laws by @joshua-beeking, FairyGardenCorgis (M, 194k, WangXian, Future, Cyborgs, Science Fiction, Science Boyfriends, Romance, Slow Burn, Medical Procedures, Surgery, Angst, Fluff, Humor, Eventual Smut, Hurt/Comfort, LWJ has RA, Idiot Friends to Idiot Lovers, Medical Assault, Dehumanization, obscene amounts of cuddling, Versatile wangxian)

~*~

17. Hi! I meant to ask this, but I think I haven't yet (it would already be posted otherwise). For the ITMF, are there any fics where WWX, post canon, gets transported timewise into the 13/16 years he was dead? Preferably only for a bit until he figures out how to get back, and while hiding his identity. Thanks for the help! @hikato-chan

Less Than Two Years by wenqing (maniafic) (T, 5k, WangXian, Time Travel, Post-Canon, but also canon divergent, in an alternate universe though, Minor Angst, mostly wwx confusing the kids)

~*~

If you didn’t get an answer to your ask here, don’t forget to make use of @mdzs-kinkmeme and MDZS KINK MEME on Dreamwidth. Authors actually do use them for ideas. You may get what you order!***Your prompt doesn’t have to be kink! Fluff, crack, whatever - it’s all good!***

#wangxian #mdzs #wangxian fic recs #i'm in the mood for a fic #the untamed #wangxian fic search #wangxianficfinder #long post

129 notes · View notes

aclowntiny · 1 year

Text

Ink Trails- Hongjoong x GN!Reader (Soulmate AU)

Just about everyone has a soulmate, a person they're destined to be with, to go through life with in some capacity. The mark of this? Anything you write on your skin shows up on theirs.

Word Count: 2.4k | Soulmate AU, Banter, Faint Humor | Warnings: a bit of language

You weren’t a big fan of drawing on yourself. As a child, you were something of a neat freak, washing all the dirt you could off your hands and never wanting to add ammo to the enemy in yours and the sink’s war. Of course, your favorite sheet of temporary tattoos didn’t count as dirt, not when they granted you several days of carrying your favorite character, a little purple penguin, with you. In fact, you practically ignored the rest of the sheet besides a few snowflakes surrounding him, all of which everyone told you were now decorating some other kid, too.

Well, good, you thought, your penguin was the best and they probably loved it, too. Otherwise they couldn’t marry you or whatever soulmates did. Usually it was get married. Maybe you would get married when you grew up. Your grandparents liked being married.

As you grew a bit older, you wrote in school. Sometimes your pen or pencil slipped, skimming your hand with an accidental line. Sometimes your soulmate was clumsy, too, and you watched a pencil trail appear when you didn’t even have one in hand. The weirdest was when you watched a whole shaky ㅎ appear, the circle looking a bit square, then suddenly erasing and being reborn round again.

And then just like that, it was all gone.

It hadn’t really been your habit to write things on yourself like others you knew- it just didn’t come naturally to you when you had paper and, a bit later in life, your phone. Beside that, given the marks of soulmates, any notes you wrote would appear on someone else’s arm, hand, anywhere they could get scolded for if they had strict family or teachers or a barrier to looking presentable at an academic event. It just didn’t seem fair. That was the same reason why, even years after school and becoming an adult, you chose not to get any tattoos. What if your soulmate hated it? Then they get it removed and you lose yours and the cycle goes on like some sort of stupid cartoon sequence of ink and lasers.

Ok, that part maybe not so much, but you knew how personal and controversial tattoos could be, so kinda weird to put one on someone else without their consent. Sorry about the penguin, you supposed all those years later, I was four.

Instead, perhaps preferably, you doodled a lot on paper, keeping at it even when that rude boy Matthew from seventh grade told you your cat looked so bad, it made him think it was a dragon holding a cookie. Such insults would not be taken from the guy who used ‘I don’t like the color red’ as an icebreaker ‘fun fact’…while wearing a red shirt.

Even if you were no artist, improvement naturally came with age and frequency, and you favored keeping your drawings cute anyway. Yet another reason to put them down on paper- pen ink faded from skin, but on paper, it was like a tattoo. Permanent with all your other notebooks of doodles that would have more than covered your body.

Your body, which was semi-frequently decorated anyway, not of your own accord. Your soulmate, likely around your age, had no qualms about use of the forearms as a notepad, so it wasn’t the oddest occurrence by far to wake up with things like ‘7:00 독주회’ or a more frantic ‘ENGLISH TEST 9:00’ scrawled there. Or even once a very unceremoniously written, shaky, clearly hastily added ‘BUMJOONG WAS HERE’ on the back of your hand. That was a fun one to try to explain. It made you wonder sometimes if your soulmate was a less considerate person than you or if you’d simply proven well in your restraint.

You weren’t expecting any answers, or perhaps more questions, to come in the form they all did.

The morning was like any other: it was your day off, time you’d reserved so as to endeavor some shopping. Making yourself a nice breakfast and choosing one of your favorite outfits, you hopped in the shower. Deciding what the heck, it was your day off, you even busted out the new sugar scrub you’d bought as peals of warm, crashing water echoed around you, lathering some exfoliant luxury upon the skin you’d always cared for.

Never once had you expected it to entertain anyone’s notice.

But there it was as you strolled along the concrete of the shopping center’s sidewalk, completely unaware of what was exposed until you ran into a friend, waving and exchanging the platitudes of two meeting after some time.

“Wow, (y/n), what a surprise, I didn’t know you got a tattoo! I thought you didn’t want any!” Your old friend Brian exclaimed with a wide smile, tilting his head. “May I see the whole thing?”

His words rose slowly to your head as you blinked, gears turning. For you had not, in fact, gotten anything of the sort done. Instinctively you held out your hand, assuming your soulmate had scrawled another vague practice reminder on the back of their hand or wrist, but your skin was blank, just a smooth expanse the same tone it always was.

“No, not your hand, silly! There!” Your eyes followed as he pointed down towards the ground, toward…your leg?

Swiveling at the hips, you bent and tugged on any necessary clothing to reveal, sure enough, writing near your ankle. Your chest sunk.

“I didn’t get a tattoo,” you said quietly.

“What?”

“I didn’t get a tattoo,” you repeated, voice a deadpan.

He pointed, finger rising slowly, almost shakily. “Then what’s-”

“I don’t know. I- I guess my soulmate did it.”

“Your soulmate got a tattoo without asking you?”

“We haven’t met,” you burst out as you raised the fabric around your leg higher, “I guess they don’t care what I think! What’s this even say, anyway?”

Frustration pricked at you at the sheer height of the piece- it wasn’t exactly dainty. Quite a ballsy move, all things considered. Sheesh. Wait, those were wings, huh?

“It says ‘faith’,” Brian supplied, “and I think it’s nice. Could definitely be worse. Could have been a partner’s name or, like, naked Spongebob or something.”

You cocked a brow. “Naked Spongebob?”

“Well, would you want that on your leg?” Brian shot back, crossing his black t-shirted arms.

“No,” you sighed, staring at your new, involuntary body art, “I suppose I would not. Well, you’re right- this is pretty nice. I can live with this. Hopefully it’s not the first one of many, though. My soulmate better leave me some control of my own skin.”

“Yeah, and if they don’t, you’d better give them a piece of your mind.”

A chuckle escaped you. “Yeah, right. I don’t even know where they are.”

“Have you never tried to find out?” Brian’s eyebrows furrowed, eyes narrowing at you like he was asking the dumbest question he’d ever uttered.

And maybe he was. Your chest contracted in realization that you had, in fact, never once considered taking any initiative into finding whoever it was had those recitals or English tests or who you really hoped had the spine to smack Bumjoong one for defacement of property. The person who, by the universe’s decree, was meant to be some miraculous piece of your life forever and you’d just…assumed they’d walk in whenever it was time. All your concern had gone to not bothering their appearance despite their clear lack of regard on the subject.

“Uh, (y/n)?” A hand waved in front of your face. Brian’s. “You’ve gone all spacey on me, what’s wrong?”

“Brian, I might be stupid.”

“Might?”

You descended back to earth, or at least close enough to its gravity, to find the wherewithal to smack his shoulder beneath the momentous echoing of reality throughout your brain.

“Also, I take it then the tattoo on your arm wasn’t your idea either?”

“The…what?”

Shopping day over.

Hongjoong couldn’t recognize his own handwriting. Or could he? Had he written that address on the back of his hand? He had to have. Sighing, he pinched the bridge of his nose. As if his schedule wasn’t busy enough, now here was some other errand he’d forgotten.

Pulling out his phone and typing it into maps, he saw that at least it wasn’t too far away. A reasonable drive, especially for a…tuesday? Oddly specific, but appointments were appointments, he reflected as he swiveled in his leather office chair.

After all, if it wasn’t important, he wouldn’t have written it down so visibly on himself like that. That was a habit he’d largely dropped in adulthood, image of greater concern and regard for mess a bit higher, too. Plus, the only other good it would have served seemed not his lot.

At least a fair number of songs had come from it. Ah, music- the eternal, universal processor. What would he do without it? Music was a way of filling every void-no, scratch that, coming to terms with the existence of voids within oneself- the thing that made him feel complete, or certainly one of them. Jokes had it that music was Hongjoong's soulmate, and while the songwriter didn't appreciate fun being poked at his expense, it was hard to deny the itching grains of truth beneath his skin at the words.

Music-related or not, this short trip was his lot, so why not make the best of it? After all, whoever had organized it picked a pretty nice café as the rendezvous point. Worst case, Hongjoong would at least get a coffee out of it.

You were starting to wonder if nobody would approach you, more singles and even couples getting in line and heading straight for a table or the door than you could count on one hand. In fact, in came someone else right in time with your thoughts, a super hot guy in fact, though he looked confused as hell. His eyes darted back and forth between the chalkboard menu and the industrial-style metal tables as he stood a little bit out of line.

Shit didn’t hit the fan until he pulled his phone out to check it, reaching up to scratch the back of his neck. His loose black t-shirt sleeve fell back, revealing a tattoo suspiciously similar to the second one that Brian pointed out on your own body. And that font was very, very unique. And big. And it was on you now.

Moving completely of its own volition, your body peeled from its metal seat and strode right up to him. No thoughts swirled to the surface of your mind even as you reached his side, prompting him to turn on his heels.

The only words your mind could barely form fell out of your lips. "You're the one who gave me these tattoos."

Jumping back, the man gaze at you with saucer-wide eyes, saying nothing as you pulled your own sleeve back to reveal the second and luckily last set of writing Brian had found on your body, this time reading 'No 1 like me', and again showed your ankle.

"I designed that one myself, how could you possibly-" His wide-eyed gape fell slowly into a smile. "I have a soulmate?"

"Yes, of course you do!" You replied, incredulous. "Did you think you didn't?"

"You never wrote anything!" He shot back.

"I was trying not to mess you up!"

"I just..." The man's handsome features fell, first into seeming hurt then just into a pensive look. "For so many years I taught myself to make my own way. Sometimes I was fine with it, sometimes I wasn't."

"No wonder you thought there was no one like you," you said before panicking, thinking better of it, "not that the tattoo isn't cool! And still true. I really like the font, actually? You said you designed at least one of these?"

"Yeah, I knew what I wanted, so I drew up the faith one and..." He tilted his head, sliding his phone from his hand back into his pocket. "wait, do you want to get a table?"

"Only if you buy me a drink," you teased, nodding toward your arm as you got back in line, "you owe me for these."

"I think you owe me for years of radio silence," the man shot back with a smirk, crossing his arms.

Heat crept into your face at the way he fixed the intense look at you, but you refused to back down. "The way you described it sounded like I taught you a valuable lesson."

"Pain can teach lessons."

Ok, you were about spent at that. "Are we really fighting over something as stupid as one free coffee?"

"I mean, fighting wasn't the word I would have used there, but you're right. I've got this one."

"Oh, you two are so cute!" The barista waved her hand as you placed your orders. "I love couples who bicker like old married grandparents! So, what are your names?"

You and your soulmate glanced at each other, your eyes sliding back into those deep, dark, expressive ones you wouldn't mind getting used to. He searched yours, too, and a small smile played on his lips that had you wondering what he was thinking... until you realized it, too.

Maybe you had wildly opposite views over the years on using your body as a notebook, but you two soulmates had the exact same sense of humor.

"We don't know," you both said at the same time.

"I'm Hongjoong," the man in black introduced himself, smiling wickedly now.

"(y/n), nice to meet you," you replied, bowing back to him.

The barista mirrored Hongjoong's initial shock at your confrontation as you both headed to your table, laughing now. Somehow that all came as easily as bickering, all your interactions up to that point having a certain flow you'd never felt before. Placebo effect? Maybe, yet the tug you felt the moment you first saw Hongjoong was yet to fade. It was like those old sayings: it felt like you two were making music.

"Ok, please don't think I'm being rude," Hongjoong's voice cut into your thoughts, "but I'm a songwriter, and I feel like I just have to write down some lyrics right now."

All you could do was just grin at that. Well, shit. Maybe now you really would have to try leaving more of an ink trail.

#ateez #ateez imagines #ateez reactions #ateez x reader #ateez scenarios #hongjoong #hongjoong x reader #hongjoong x gender neutral reader #gender neutral reader #soulmate au #can't believe this is my first soulmate au piece tbh...but hope y'all enjoy 😁

419 notes · View notes

hazel-eye-coffee-shop-girl-blog · 17 days

Text

Happy Monday Everyone! So I have a new series for you that I will be dropping either one chapter a week or multiple chapters this week, I am still deciding.

This series came way of a message/ask from @hobby27 she asked:

"I would love something with Jensen and reader. He sees her when he’s at a convention and he’s bonkers for her. She isn’t so interested in a relationship with him because of the fame. So he has to woo her. Make her understand that he’s not a typical movie/tv star. Slow burn."

So I give you the Limelight series- It's a Jensen x reader (plus size, curvy girl) story, Jensen meets the reader in a bar, he falls fist, she is reluctant of course, but secretly she fell for him the second he walked through the door. So can a small town girl and a celebrity make it work?

Warnings for the whole series: language, multi-pov and switching between the pov mid chapters (sorry I can't help it), Jensen coming off aggressive for a hot second but then cooling off. Some douche side characters and some lovable ones, body shaming, angst, fluff, swoon, Jared is there and Micha is mention.

This story takes place an AU where Jensen is not married but Jared is and has kids.

This chapter is 2K+. Feedback, likes and reblogs are always welcomed. Please don't post as your own work, this is my work.

Thanks!

Chapter 1

You weren't sure what possessed you to come out tonight. The city is a small lakeside tourist trap in the height of summer. It's Friday night, so it's already going to be busy. Add the fact that the first-ever Supernatural convention is taking place in a town over, and there are rumors that some cast members might appear in small-town Haven. Has every woman, single or not, out looking to catch the eye of Jared Padalecki or Jensen Ackles.

You, on the other hand, couldn't care less. That's not to say you didn't think both men weren't great actors. You're the first to put your 'Supernatural number one fan card' against anyone. You watched the show religiously, even re-watched it whenever you needed comfort or a break from the world. You had also fallen into reading and writing a few fanfics under a pen name.

You also weren't immune to their handsome good looks; both are sexy men in their own right. You lean more towards Jensen than Jared if you had to choose. Something about those hypnotic green eyes and the 'Dean voice.' God, that got you through some lonely nights, for sure.

So why aren't you going boy-crazy at the fact that your celebrity crush was just one city over, or for that matter, could be in the same bar as you right now? One, you are a realist: the likelihood of him coming out, or you actually seeing him, is slim, if not nonexistent. Second, the idea of celebrity life - living in the limelight, having all eyes on you, never getting a moment to yourself - no thank you. You will take being an anonymous nobody and being able to look and act however you want without ending up on the front page of the gossip rags.

Pushing your way through the crowd of the local dive bar, you survey the crowd to see the overabundance of female to men ratio. You finally squeeze past and grab the last open barstool at the corner, next to where the wait staff come to grab their orders. Saying hi to the waitress as she loads up her tray, you take a seat and wave over at the bartender.

"Well, look what the cat dragged in." The bartender, James, gives you a smile and wink.

Stuffing the bar towel in his back pocket, he walks to you and tosses a cardboard coaster. "Didn't think you would be one of those desperate celebrity chasers." He jokes.

He places his hands on the bar and leans towards you. His lean, muscular frame is accented by his dark denim jeans and black button-down, the sleeves rolled up to the elbows, showing off the nice tan he's been working on.

Shaking your head at him, "Now, James, I wouldn't knock your guest too loud; God knows you're not mad at the extra business…or the female clientele." You quip, picking up the coaster to fiddle with.

You survey the room and guess it's a two to five-ratio of guys to girls in the bar tonight. "Besides, I wanted a drink." Letting out a sigh, you try to convince yourself that's why.

Not buying it, but not having the heart to call you out on your bullshit this early in the night, James gives you a nod, "OK, sure, so the usual?" He asks as he grabs the tequila to make you a margarita.

"You know my weakness."

"That I do."

Later that night

You felt good and relaxed over an hour in and two margaritas down. The day's stress dissipates, and you're glad you came out. Besides chatting with James every time he had a few minutes, you also got to reconnect with some of the other bar staff you hadn't seen.

The crowd has started to thin out, with news that the cast members were staying in the city to party. Sightings of them all over at the more trendy bars had the sober guests heading out and the not-so-sober ones heading home. James let the last waitress clock out early, leaving only you and James. James made his way back over to you.

"So, you're still here. Thought you would have hightailed it to the city by now." He jokes, running a hand through his dark, short locks. His blue eyes locked with yours.

"I told you, I just came out for a drink, not to hunt down a celebrity. Besides, we never get to hang out anymore. Why is that?" you question, pushing your empty glass toward James in a not-so-subtle attempt to have him refill it.

He takes the hint. Grabbing the glass, he slightly laughs at this, "Come on, Y/N, we see each other. I mean, yeah, not as much anymore, what with me taking over this place and you working in the city more on your art. How is that going? Are you happy with your decision?" He asks, saying so much with those questions. He finishes up your drink and sets it down.

You were happy with your choice; it was for the best. Even if it meant you gave up half of the bar and steady income so you could pursue your passion. You're about to answer him when the sound of the front doors opens. Looking over, you can't believe your eyes when you see, fucking Jensen Ackles and Jared Padalecki walk through the doors.

You snap your head back after staring at them both for what seems like forever. Fuck, they both look even better in person.

"No fucking way!" James almost screams out. You look up at him to see he is nearly hyperventilating.

"OK, James, you got to calm down." You counsel, slightly put off by him freaking out when he, on multiple occasions, would tease you for liking the show. Watching him flap his hands and pull out the bar rag to wipe the sweat from his forehead as his cheeks red.

You had to call him on this. "Are you a fan?"

He looks over to you, sees the twinkling of mischief behind your eyes, and sighs, "OK, fine, yes." He quips back in defeat that his big secret is out.

"I watched the show, and so did you." He tries to defend himself.

"Yeah, and I was open about it. You were the one that made fun of me every time I talked about it. Bitch."

"Jerk." James quips back out of reflex, which gets you to point at him.

"Hey, can we get a pitcher of whatever the house draft is?" Deep and smooth, his voice hits you like a freight train, pulling James and you out of your impending tiff and back to reality. A reality where Jensen Ackles is standing ten feet away from you, on the other side of the bar, wanting to get a pitcher of beer.

He is standing there in well-fitted light-wash jeans and a faded blue T-shirt. Sunglasses hang off the v-neckline and a baseball cap tuck in his back pocket. Your eyes lock with his, and the rumors are true—they are green like a fairy princess.

You look away and see Jared sitting with two other guys at a table. They are not actors from the show; they must be friends or bodyguards.

"Umm…Yeah, man, coming right up. Just the one?" James stammers as he reaches the well to pull the pitcher.

"Umm…better make it two, Jared's a big guy and all." Jensen jokes. Pulling his eyes from you to the bartender.

"Umm…you got a kitchen back there?" He questions, trying to keep the small talk up so he can stay here for a few more minutes. There is something about you; he can't place it, but it's like he's drawn to you.

"Yeah, but our cook bailed on me tonight," James replies. Setting the pitchers on the bar. Scrabbling when he sees Jensen's slight disappointment in the lack of food.

"But I am sure Y/N wouldn't mind going back there and whipping up something." Turning his attention to you and giving you a shit-eating grin.

Your head snaps up to look over at James and Jensen. "What?" You question, wondering why he dragged you into this.

"Yeah, she's an excellent cook, chef really, she actually…"

"I am sure my cooking wouldn't match your sophisticated palate." Cutting off James before he can give Jensen your life story, giving him a stare down that conveys 'shut the fuck up.'

James has a habit of making your accomplishments sound grander than they were. He takes up the role of a proud parent, which you never ask him to do.

Y/N, hmm, beautiful name. Letting the name roll around in his head. Jensen takes this opportunity with your eyes, shooting daggers at the bartender to let his eyes take you all in. She is in light-wash jeans, tall black boots, and a leather jacket over a vintage concert t-shirt that hugs her curves in all the right places. She's giving off a 'don't fuck with me vibe,' but he can tell it's just a front.

"Darling, don't let celebrity status fool you. We're just a group of guys out for a few drinks and looking for good local food." Giving a smile to seal the deal.

His voice pulls her attention back to him, and he can see the front crumble away, her cheeks tinting pink.

"Jared there will eat just about anything you put before him." He says, thumbing back towards the guys.

You look over his shoulder to see Jared and the two other guys watching your interaction. Jared gives you a half smile.

"Jensen, stop harassing the girl already. I can't take this guy anywhere." He jokes and turns his attention back to his buddies.

Getting up from the barstool, you put some money on the bar, "I should be going, night James." Keep your voice low and as even as possible.

You can feel yourself becoming embarrassed by the seconds with all the attention on you. Unfortunately, you must walk past Jensen and his friends' table to get to the door. As you walk past the table, one of the anonymous guys pipes up.

"Seriously, I am starving. Why did we even come out this way? Dumb bitch, not like she doesn't know her way around a kitchen, just look at her." He spits out.

You know you should keep walking; it's not like you haven't heard your fair share of fat jokes and comments about you before. Especially from drunk, pretty boys. Something about this time, though. Maybe it's because it's in front of your celebrity crushes. After all, you have a few drinks in you as well. Whatever it is, you turn on your heels so you can face the douchebag.

"Oh, real original, ass. God, you must be the brains of the group." You spat back. Placing your hands on your hips to really show off your frame.

He doesn't say anything at first. He is your typical frat boy, with short blonde hair and brown eyes staring back at you. You can see the wheels turning in his head. The other anonymous guy sitting next to him is a carbon copy of him, but he is looking across the booth to Jared for some kind of help.

"Dude, Evan, come on," Jared says, giving him a look of dismay that he just said those things. Turning his attention to you, "I am sorry…" He starts to apologize to him.

You hold up your hand to stop him. "It's fine, really." You reply, giving him a half smile. You're tired, and dragging this out any longer is not something you want to do tonight.

"Yeah, Jared, it's fine. A bitch like that, this is probably the most attention she has had from a guy in a long time." Evan jokes and playfully punches the guy next to him, wanting some backup on his 'stellar' dig at the local girl.

Turning away from them, shocked that he is still talking, you just want to escape. Your eyes lock with Jensen, but his attention is on the table. He's fuming and looks like he is about to punch Evan. He starts the short walk towards the table.

"What the fuck…" he yells.

Stepping in his path, he stops just inches from you when you put your hand on his chest. The feel of your hand on him, you standing right before him, snaps him back.

"Well, we wouldn't want you boys to starve now, would we?" You say sweetly. Your voice is low and even. Knowing that you need to diffuse this situation before a bar brawl breaks out and somehow the gossip rags hear about it.

The feel of his shirt under your fingers as you lightly tap his chest is soft. You would give anything to stay like this for a bit longer, taking in his smell of whiskey and leather. That's the one thing the fanfic girls and guys got right. Maybe they got other things right, too, your mind wonders.

You give Jensen a smile and turn to face the table. "Do you guys have any allergies I need to know about?" Your question, "Don't need to have anyone go into anaphylactic shock and have the media all up in my ass."

The two unknowns say nothing and seem interested in the countertop, then looking up at you. You don't blame them. Seeing the fury that Jensen was in, you wouldn't want to be on the receiving end of that.

Jared also looks pissed at them, glaring at them both before replying. "No, I think we're all good."

Giving a short nod, you turn back, seeing Jensen's eyes lock on you now. He has calmed down a bit, but he also looks slightly disappointed. You cock your head to the side.

"Hey, you OK?" You question, your voice low, only for him to hear.

He takes a second, giving you a nod. He clears his throat. "Yeah, umm…I am sorry…" he starts apologizing, but you stop him.

"It's fine, Jensen. If you haven't noticed, I am a big girl in multiple ways." You wink at him and pat his chest before side-stepping him and heading back towards the kitchen.

Back to the bar, you shuck off your jacket and toss it to James. "Good because, honestly, I don't care." You quip back to let them all know you could give a rat's ass what their dietary needs were.

This gets a laugh out of Jensen, pulling him back into a better head space. He can see more of her; the short-sleeved gray t-shirt contrasts sharply with her deep purple hair. Letting his eyes roam over her beautiful curves, god, he wishes he was the only one that came out tonight. She is feisty and can hold her own. Her voice is heaven, and he wants to listen to her talk all night.

"I'll have some food right out." Saying over your shoulder as you push open the kitchen doors.

To Be Continued.....

75 notes · View notes

ymechi · 7 months

Text

Who is the real Creator?

Hello! I have a bit of an announcement to make I don't think everyone has seen the previous post but an anon asked me if I will continue the series and to be honest I don't think I will. This series was made on a whim and was really fun to write except I hit a roadblock. I am unsure where to continue with this I feel like I have written enough and not sure where to go from here story wise, that is why I decided to discontinue the story. Thank you everyone who commented and liked I enjoyed seeing your guys reactions. For now this is the last chapter. If I ever decide to continue this or make a new series I look forward to seeing you guys there!

-TW: cult au, yandere, impostor au, mentions of being hunted down, mentions of trauma, self harm (nothing major), OOC character

-Gn reader and darling (please tell me if I mess this up message me and I will fix it)

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, this is part 6

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The beat of their heart was as loud as a drum. Reader could even feel their head vibrate in tandem with the marching drums they had heard before when they were younger. Their vision felt blurry and their head was light. The fading sun outside the windows caught their eye. Reader felt nauseous.

They were such a coward they had left Nahida and Wanderer to clean up after them as they ran away. Reader wanted to help her not add more trouble yet here they were weak and unable to speak.

Distantly they heard a gasp.

"Reader! Are you okay? Oh no- Traveller come quick!"

Two blurry figures came closer to Reader. They idly noted one of the figures was floating. . . Ohh, it was Paimon and Aether.

Seeing the two somehow calmed them down and they tried to take deep breaths. With a calmer and clearer mind, they noticed that both stared at Reader with worried expressions.

Reader gave a wry smile.

"Hi Paimon, hi Traveller."

The two said nothing staring at Reader and then at each other coming to an agreement of some sort.

"Paimon thinks you should sit down first," she said, trailing off and looking down.

Reader also noticed Aether was looking down as well to the side, it was then it dawned on Reader they were looking at their sliced palm. They subconsciously tried to hide it but stopped midway bringing it forward towards the duo.

"I guess you two were also summoned but were late haha," they said with a flat laugh.

Traveler continued to look at them with a worried frown and Paimon who usually had a positive expression looked even more worried. Reader's wry smile seemed not to work sadly.

"P-Paimon is still not sure what is going on but Paimon thinks you should sit down first. . ."

"I agree let's get you somewhere to rest first."

Aether reached his hand out as an invite and Reader felt too weak to reject him. He took their hand and guided them further down the hall towards a seating area where guests could sit. There Reader was able to sit down and calm down.

"Thanks, I do feel better."

Aether smiled and nodded while Paimon's eyes sifted from looking at them and then at a wall.

"Uhm- so Paimon has been wondering. . ."

It was obvious what she was referring to. They held the sliced palm with the other hand almost cradling it.

"Sorry, I did not mean to keep it from you guys. . . I just found out recently as well, I-I hope you are not mad."

"What! Why would we be mad? You are the creator- Oh no should we bow?" Paimon said looking at Reader then around as if someone would pop up and admonish her.

Traveler shook his head at his companion's antics and gave Reader a sad smile.

"I hope you can forgive out-"

"Oh no stop there!"

Reader jumped out quickly from their seat causing the duo to step back (the other to float back) in shock. Reader stepped forward and looked at them with a serious expression.

"I don't care if I am some creator or whatever and I don't care about that formal shit, especially when you two are my friends!"

Reader was not sure where this outburst came from. Was it because of the stressful day? Was it having to see people you did not like or was it because of having to watch Wanderer act subservient for so long?

"So no your grace or bowing!"

The two still looked aback. Suddenly Reader felt embarrassed shouting at them when they were concerned about her.

"W-well uhm, sorry, yeah I should not have shouted. . ."

Reader wrung their hands together but stopped when they noticed the sliced palm. They looked down at their shoes.

"Paimon. . . Paimon thinks of you as a friend too," she said and her cheeks turned red.

Reader smiled at her and Traveller sighed but gave the floating girl a smile.

"If that is what you wish for then who are we to say no?"

He sounded a tad bit too formal for Reader but it would have to do for now.

"None of that now, how have the two of you been?"

Paimon opened her mouth about to answer Reader's question but she was interrupted unexpectedly.

"Your Grace-"

Reader's heart skipped a beat and not the good kind. The calm they experienced before was gone and their body froze again. The one who spoke was unmistakably the retired geo Archon. He looked frazzled and looked at Reader in a way they could not decipher.

"Your grace I. . ."

"That is enough I had already told you they were not ready to talk to you yet."

Nahida came afterward it looks like she rushed over to where they were. Her face was stern and it looked so out of place compared to her more relaxed and curious features. Reader's stomach clenched. Zhongli looked as if he wanted to argue with her. His face took on a harsher stance as he looked at her.

No.

They would not let him.

"Whatever it is you want to say it's with me leave her out of this."

Their hands were shaking but they held them together. Nahida looked surprised at them and Reader wanted to reassure her it was going to be alright. Aether from his side approached them and stood between the Archon and Reader. The implication that he was willing to defend them from one of the strongest beings in Teyvat was not lost on Reader. They did feel safer by having him on their side and Paimon as well.

"Your grace I," Zhongli paused his gaze on Reader with a guilty look that made them feel uncomfortable, "If I had known if only. . ."

"That does not matter anymore," Reader interrupted him.

He looked at them and flinched.

"Save your what 'ifs’, you did what you did and I won't forget it."

The unexpected venom that came out of Reader surprised even them. Zhongli had taken to look down he looked ashamed, how dare he? Now he wants to act all guilty. Reader scoffed.

"You have done enough damage for today, I suggest you leave neither me or the Dendro Archon are in a mood to deal with you," Reader said and crossed their arms.

They idly wondered if the meeting had gone awry for her to come here. Nahida looked thoroughly surprised.

Zhongli opened his mouth to speak but Reader beat him to it.

"That is all I have nothing more to say."

"I think I will take it over here with Mr. Zhongli and the rest."

They nodded at Nahida. Reader tugged at Aether's scarf for him to follow them.

They entered Reader's new room and their muscles went lax. It felt though as if they had carried a heavy boulder. They threw decorum away and sat on their desk stool.

"Sorry, I think I need a bit of rest."

"It's okay Paimon doesn't think anyone would handle talking to a guy that tried to kill as well as you did."

Aether glared at Paimon and she jumped up in the air while still floating.

"Maybe Paimon should not have said that. . ."

Reader looked at her and shook their head with a smile.

"It's okay, you sort of reminded me I did something pretty cool huh?"

Paimon's expression eased and she nodded.

"While Zhongli is our friend what he did to you was unforgivable so Paimon thinks he ought to get kicked around for what he did."

"Heh, it seems like you can speak some sense from time to time."

It was Wanderer who had entered when the door was still unopened. Paimon did look angry at his remark.

"You! What do you mean Paimon always says things that make sense!"

"Yeah sure," he said with a mocking smile and crossed his arms.

"You came early did something happen?" Reader spoke.

Wanderer uncrossed his arms and shook his head.

"No Lesser Lord Kusanali came back with the funeral consultant and told me to look out for you."

Ohh, Reader's heart melted a bit. They really had a good friend, next time they should make her something as thanks.

"Paimon has a question are you planning to announce it to everyone that you are the creator?"

Aether looked at Reader more intently as well. It seemed he was interested in the topic.

"No, I rather not, we decided to let the acolytes know for now their words hold some sway if they could calm the public down after the 'fake' left."

Aether had a thoughtful expression and nodded at Reader's answer. Perhaps he guessed Reader was not in the mood to talk about this particular topic and left it a that. Reader was once again thankful for their friend's thoughtfulness.

"Sorry for all the drama today take a seat what have you two been up to?"

Aether smiled and sat down while Wanderer ever the polite one bought fruits and left to get some tea. The Traveler and his companion told them of the many new adventures they had and the people they met. After Wanderer came back with the tea all of them sat down and listened as Paimon did a dramatic retelling of a recent commission they took on.

"I see everyone is having a fun time."

"Nahida!" Reader went out of their seat to check on the Archon.

"I hope there was not too much trouble are all right? Did something happen?"

"No worries I am fine and nothing happened it took a while to convince some to leave, there were acolytes who wanted to meet you."

Reader grimaced.

"Yeah sorry, next time I won't run away like that."

Nahida shook her head.

"No, it is part of my duty, there is no need for you to do it if you don't feel like it."

"You shouldn't have to shoulder this," Reader argued.

"Lesser Lord Kusanali is right if you are not ready it might do more damage to your health," Wandered interjected.

At that Reader could only be silent. They felt so helpless.

"For now let Nahida handle it you can be there and see how much you can handle," Wanderer said after sighing.

Reader wrung their hands together and looked at Nahida with a guilty look.

"If it's okay with you could I?"

"Only if you think you can handle it."

For now that would be their solution.

Reader ushered Nahida to take a seat and poured her some tea. Paimon took it upon herself to start over her tale once again since Nahida was there and the Wanderer scoffed at her which caused them to bicker for a few seconds. Reader could only laugh behind their hand. The rest of the day was spent comfortably talking.

"It is getting late Paimon doesn't want to intrude any longer."

The Traveller nodded as well.

"Wait you both could stay in my room?"

Traveller and Paimon looked surprised.

"We don't want to interrupt your resting time there is also only one bed."

"The bed is big enough for all of us we can have a sleepover?"

Reader wrung their hands together. It was just, they did not want to sleep alone today.

Traveller and Paimon looked at each other they must have had a silent conversation.

"If you are okay with it Reader."

"Yeah it would be nice I haven't had a sleepover in a long while Nahida and Wanderer you could join in if you want to." They said with a smile.

"I've never had one before but I would love to try it out."

Wanderer was silent for a while before he quietly answered.

"I will join then. . ."

Reader smiled it almost hurt their face. They gathered a lot of pillows and extra blankets just in case. Reader took the middle while Nahida was to the right and Paimon to the left. Respectievly Aether took Paimon's side and Wanderer slept next to Nahida. It really did feel like a huge sleepover. Reader slept soundly that night sourrended in warmth.

Extra:

Reader felt warm and fuzzy images of Christmas lights surrounding their vision. the lights were blurry and smudged. Gentle snow started to fall blanketing the ground in white. The blanket that surrounded them kept them warm and they snuggled closer to it.

The stars above twinkled and They watched with interest as they changed shape and colour. Then a star started to fall, no it was a snowflake. A huge giant snowflake was falling towards Reader and they tried to struggle but it was in vain as the blanket held them in place. With horror they watched as the snowflake landed on their head.

It was rather soft and it did not hurt but the snowflake was beginning to limit their breathing. Reader tried to open their mouth to breathe in more air.

With a gasp, they woke up.

The thing smothering their face was not a snowflake or anything nefarious but rather Paimon herself. Somehow she had ended up on their face. They struggled to shake her off and after a few seconds of prying she rolled off to the side.

She was still asleep her mouth open and she mumbled something about food no doubt.

Reader sighed.

They blinked a few times as they looked out to the window where the sun was shining. It was already morning.

Reader was rather in a bind, literally. Nahida had curled up in her chest, she looked so small and cute Reader’s heart melted and they wanted to pat her head. Their feet somehow got tangled up with Wanderer’s and to the side Aether was hugging their arm.

They could not get up.

”If I was in a different room I would still be able to hear your squirms.”

It was wanderer who woke up. His voice was hoarse. Now that they thought about it Reader had no idea if he could sleep or if he even needed to.

”Sorry,” they said whispering.

Wanderer sighed and came closer towards Reader shutting his eyes.

Wait, was he not going to get up at all?

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Taglist: @resident-cryptid @probablynoposts @esthelily @mitsukashi @charming-mage @chaoticfivesworld @irisxiel @dulcedelechenginamo @yu-ulda @samohxt2-0 @pinkpainc @vianitry @dreamlessnight @kurayamioterasu @fantasyhopperhea @victoria1676 @liansh3ng @game-savvy @uchihaeirin @awelygirl @klemen-time @synthe4u @deadgirldreaming @quacking-simp

233 notes · View notes

asterias-record-shop · 1 year

Note

BINGOO! Can you please write a Miguel O’Hara sugar daddy story with prompt 15? I’m not creative enough to write a description for this but could you add a mention of the age gap? Miguel is Like 30 or something. Reader is young and wants money ofc. They met online and are meeting up irl. Thank youu

—𓆩[mi menté, cuerpo, corazón, y alma]𓆪—

I am so sorry anón honey, I got completely carried away!! I hope you enjoy it though!

𓆩[main masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[request/ask me something!]𓆪 𓆩[updated bingo card!]𓆪 𓆩[bingo masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[join the bingo taglist!]𓆪

𓆩♡𓆪 CHARACTER - Modern AU! CEO! Sugar Daddy! Soft! Miguel O'Hara x Sugar Baby! Fem! Reader

𓆩♡𓆪 TYPE - fluff, smut, angst

𓆩♡𓆪 WORD COUNT - 3.1K

𓆩♡𓆪 SUMMARY - You loved being a sugar baby. Truly, you did. The only con was the fact that you had to get with someone who was literally a hair away from dying, so when Miguel found you, it was truly a saving grace. After a while, he made you cut off all of your other sugar daddies, easily matching what they give you and more. Things have gotten weird lately, though… and you’re not sure how to take it, even when he says everything is ‘strictly pleasure’.

𓆩♡𓆪 STORY WARNINGS - cursing and foul language || obsessive behavior || sugar daddy & sugar baby relationship || possessive! Miguel || his wife and daughter do not exist anymore 🤍 like at all || Latina coded reader || featuring Jessica Drew as another CEO because we love her (spider-verse variant) || sugar daddy & sugar baby relationship turned real relationship || i speak rancho spanish so i write rancho spanish, it ain’t google translate so it might not make sense- || miguel is lowkey an asshole so he is an asshole now || fighting || you make him fix himself || i’m ngl, i don’t know what the hell i did but i had fun and there’s smut so enjoy || this is so much more kinky than it initially was going to be- || kinda OOC Miguel || sub turned dom! reader || sub! Miguel || sounding || cbt || slight oral || praise & degradation || riding || non-protected sex || cumming inside || ending is supposed to be humorous I’m not weird ||

Finding a sugar daddy that wasn’t quadruple your age was hard. Very, very hard. What was wrong with men? Couldn’t they just become billionaires at twenty-five?

Bastards.

Oh, but then Miguel O’Hara came along. A man in his early thirties that absolutely towered over you at 6’9”, built like a fucking god with looks to match and wealth to pair.

In the beginning, though, you had your doubts, so many doubts. You didn’t know what made him drawn to you in the first place, mainly because you had over five sugar daddies and he easily matched the prices immediately and made you get rid of them. He easily matched all your prices, doing even more before purchasing a test to make sure you were ‘healthy’.

After that, everything else happened extremely quickly - him buying you a car, jewelry and clothes, but the most recent was having you move in with him in his extremely large mansion. The first thing you noticed was that he had nothing in his home that gave it personality. No pictures, just crazy expensive art and photographs of things that were also crazy expensive.

He didn’t even have plants. Or a dog. Or a cat, something to give him some sort of personality besides that stupidly hot face. And stupidly hot money, but that’s why he was at work while you were at a shelter, promising yourself that you’d take some sort of pet home. You had settled on a kitten, a tuxedo kitten with a little bow tie and a mustache, along with small little mittens on his paws.

He immediately curled in your lap, a giggle falling from your lips as you stroked the back of his head. “I’ll take this one… I’m gonna name him Hart.”

And with that, you took him home. You bought him his own bed and all of the toys he could ever want or need, and you sat in the closet you had made his room as you wagged the cat toy in front of him, Jessica on the phone.

“Y/N, I really think you’re going to kill him bringing that cat into his house!” She laughed, snacking on her latest craving.

“Oh, he won’t! You’re being overdramatic, he’s gonna love Hart,” you wiggle the stick some more, the kitten swatting at it as you heard Miguel’s loud voice yell out for you. “Oh! He’s here, I’ll call you later Jess! Love you!”

“Don’t get killed!”

You giggled as you hung up and quickly stood, running out and fixing your skirt. “Miguel!”

He was tired today, you could tell. His body was more tense than you had ever seen, the buttons at the top of his shirt undone and his tie loose with his blazer open. You paused, his clenched fists making you swallow slightly. You had your share of violent lovers, and you sure as hell weren’t going to have another.

“Hola, mi reina,” he whispered, voice hoarse as he set down his briefcase and his fists unclenched. He softly set his hand on your hip, kissing softly against your temple as he sighed. “I’m sorry, it’s been a tough day.”

You inhaled as he softly pressed kisses down your temple around your eye, along the apple of your cheek. “Wh-What happened?”

He shook his head, his hands going from your hips to the pretty skin of your thighs that was exposed by the skirt. “Stupid idiots who don’t know how to fucking do their job.”

You hummed softly as you stroked the back of his head, twirling the locks of his hair with your fingers as you kissed his sharp jaw. You were already on your tiptoes, his hands supporting you as he ducked down. “I’m so sorry, Miguel,” you whispered as he let out a soft hum. “I uhm… I got something.”

“Ah si?” he responded, his hands slipping under your skirt to tease your pretty cunt. “Es esto, mi reina?”

“No,” you giggled, shaking your head. “Lemme show you.”

He smiled as you dragged him along, pulling him toward the closet you turned into the kitten’s room before turning around. “You can’t get mad.”

He started to cross his arms, raising a brow. “Why would I get mad?”

“You won’t be mad because you can’t. That’s my whole point,” you say, nodding firmly. “Okay?”

“You can’t say I can’t get mad and expect me not to get mad.”

“Oh, shut up!” You laughed, shaking your head as he hummed softly and leaned down. “Just… trust me.”

He hummed again as you opened the door, the loud mews of the kitten making his eyes widen. You felt your smile disappear as you inhaled, shaking your head as you turned around. “This is Hart! He’s a little spy,” you giggled, kissing the kitten’s small head. “H-He was named after-”

“I know who he’s named after, Y/N,” Miguel growled, glaring at the kitten in your hand. “Why is it in my house?”

“Our house,” you correct him, a scoff falling from his lips. “What?”

“My house,” he basically growled, stepping forward as you started to step back. “Just because I fuck you like a ragdoll and cum inside of you like a cumdump doesn’t mean that this is your house.”

You inhaled as you held the kitten closer to your chest, scoffing. “You’re a fucking bastard, Miguel O’Hara. This is strictly business as always, isn’t it? You fucking asshole.”

He scoffed as you went around him, shaking his head. “This is mine, Y/N! All of it!”

“It might be yours, Miguel, but you don’t want it! You keep this giant house full of nothing that you love, nothing that you care for! You don’t even have a damn plant here!” You yelled at him, inhaling as you sent him a glare. “You’re a self absorbed bastard, Miguel.”

“I have you here,” Miguel spoke, something that completely betrayed his previous words. “You’re… all I could ever need.”

“You don’t need me though. The only thing that you fucking need is a damn whore,” you shake your head, keeping Hart close to your chest. “I will get myself a lawyer to get myself out of this contract, and we’ll never have to see each other again.”

“Y/N, wait-”

“No! Fuck you!” You were already rushing to your room - which was sadly one you shared with Miguel - locking it before he could come in after you.

“Y/N, amor… mi amor, I’m sorry.”

“No you’re not!” You yelled, sighing. How could you ever think this would go any other way? “Just… go away!”

To be honest, you weren’t sure what made you think you could love him. Actually love him and have it reciprocated, but you didn’t want to leave. You had worked so hard in this relationship with Miguel, gaining his trust and what you thought was his love, for fucks sake you couldn’t lose it now. What he said just… got to you.

It wasn’t until you heard a soft knock that you unlocked the door, Miguel slowly stepping into the room. “What do you want?”

“I just… look at this,” he gave you the binder, swallowing. “If you uhm… look at it, it annuls our last contract… if you sign it, mi amor-”

“What, are you gonna try and bribe me?” I ask, softly scratching Hart’s ear before he gives you the binder.

“Perdóname, amor,” he whispers, slowly falling to his knees in front of you. You certainly weren’t expecting this. “Read it.”

“Summarize it for me.”

“It says that you own me,” he says, tilting his head. “Everything I own, you own. Everything I am is yours,” he takes your hand, softly kissing against your wrist. “I’m sorry… that it took me so long to see how important you are to me. Soy tuyo, mi mente, cuerpo, y alma.”

You swallow as you stare at the dotted line, looking down at him as he kisses your skin. “Tu cuerpo? Es mío?”

He groaned as your hand shapes his jaw, softly tugging on his hair as Hart jumped down, sauntering out of the room as though he knew what was about to happen. “Todo es tuyo, mi amor,” he whispers, groaning as you pull his hair so he’d stare up at you. “Todo lo que quieras, es tuyo. Nomás me digas y es tuyo. Todo, todo es tuyo.”

You hummed, sighing as you moved your hips to come off the bed slightly. “Show me. Show me that you belong to me and I’ll sign it.”

He hummed, sending you a smile as he started to kiss against your wrist. “Of course, mi reina.”

You smile slightly as he starts to tug off his shirt, carefully unbuttoning and kissing along your calf before slipping off your heels. “If this keeps going, Miguel, you need to know that I’m not putting up with your bullshit.”

“Ya se, mi reina,” he whispers, his tongue flattening up your thigh as he pulls down your skirt. “I’m aware.”

“I’m going to sign that shit in your cum.”

He laughed, nodding. “If that’s what you want to do, mi amor.”

You tilted your head down at him, raising a brow. “That raises no red flags?”

“No, they’re actually green.”

You hold back a laugh as he slowly stands up, already taking off his clothes before you put up a finger. “I’m in charge, right?”

“Yes,” he said, tilting his head slightly. “What would you like me to do, hm?”

“Get on the bed,” you say, standing and slipping off your clothes. “Why are you just standing there? Go.”

Miguel smirked slightly, but followed your orders, his bare body looking perfect against the bed. “Well, what do you want me to do next, mi amor?”

You hummed, staring for another few minutes. “Get hard. I’ll be back.”

You go into your closet, but after hearing Miguel’s moans, you knew he listened to what you said. It wasn’t until you went into your drawer filled with sex toys did you know what you wanted to do - oh, you were going to make him sob. You grabbed the small silver toy you had never had the chance to use on him, biting your lip as you finished taking off the rest of your clothes and fixing your bra and underwear.

It was normal to makeup with Miguel with sex, then talk about what happened and why it should never happen again before you fell asleep, resulting in Miguel waking you up with breakfast in bed and another lavish apology gift.

When you walked out, you smiled when you saw Miguel bucking his hips into his hand, his thick cock dribbling precum out of his bright red tip. “Look how pretty your cock is, baby… so, so pretty.”

He lets out a dry laugh, groaning. “Oh yeah? Que vas hacer?”

You giggled, slowly sliding between his legs and taking out the metal sounding rod. “Voy a jugar con lo que es mío.”

He lets out a choked moan as the cold tip of the rod dragged in a circle along the tip of his cock, already lubed up so you wouldn’t hurt him, a giggle escaping your lips as you slowly pushed it into his cock. He lets out a choked moan as you laugh, watching as it slowly disappears inside of his cock.

“Hijo de su pinche madre,” he cursed, groaning as he bucked his hips, stomach clenching as you watched his body slowly fall to your mercy. “Amor, please, please- I'll be good, I just need to fuck you.”

“Cállate,” you ordered, giggling as you pushed it inside until the ring was showing, your mouth latching onto his balls and sucking softly. “Come on, be a good boy and fuck it.”

He cursed as he starts to roll his hips, following the sounding rod as he groaned loudly. One of your hands rubs along his thighs, giggling as you stared up at his face all scrunched and desperate. He really did make a good sub.

“Come on, don’t stop now, Miguel, you’re doing so good,” you move away from his balls but continue to cup them, moving so that his fat cock was settled on his abdomen and you rubbed your now bare pussy against his shaft. “Come on baby, I know you want to cum. As soon as you cum, I’ll put your cock in me and I’ll let you fuck me.”

He groaned loudly, almost growl-like sounds falling from his lips as he forced his hips to go faster, fucking into the sounding rod as he rubbed against your wet cunt. You couldn’t hold back your own moans, the friction of his cock perfect against your cunt and he wasn’t even inside of you yet.

“Amor, please, please!” He was begging to cum, even if he didn’t quite know it yet, a groan falling from your lips as you continued to squeeze and rub his balls. He had never been this quick to cum, and you knew you’d have to try this again soon. “I’m close, chingao, I’m close.”

You let out a laugh as you watch the sounding rod start to be pushed out, pushing it back in as he whined. “Not yet, amor mío.”

“Por favor, mi vida, necesito- fuck!” He screamed out as you continued to hump against his length, pushing and pulling the rod in and out of his cock.

“Say it again. That you’re mine.”

“Fuck, I’m yours! Soy tuyo, mi mente, cuerpo, corazón, y alma, ¡chingada madre!” He yelled out as you finally let go of the sounding rod, watching it pop out of his cock and a perfect, pornographic cumshot follow. You moved your hand from his balls, lifting your hips as you continued to pump his shaft. You watched as the pearlescent liquid spurts onto his toned abdomen, smiling before cupping your hand in front of his tip and gathering his cum.

He panted, watching as you slowly smeared it along your cunt and placed the sounding rod onto the nightstand. “Next time we need to go bigger.”

“Whatever you say, amor,” he whispers, groaning as you pull his cock to push into your cunt, another loud groan falling from his lips. “Fuck, you feel so good.”

“I know,” you spoke, laughing slightly as you gasped. No matter how many times his cock was inside of you, you never got used to it. “Fuck, Miguel, It’s like you get bigger every time.”

“Maybe I do,” he smirked, offering that playful wording as you finally sat on his pelvis, groaning loudly. “Look at how perfect you look with my cock inside of you, mi reina. Fucking perfect.”

You whimpered, groaning as you started to roll your hips, his cock feeling as though it was deeper than it ever was. “N-No, no.”

He smirked, tilting his head. “No what, amor? Tell me.”

“Stop that,” you order, knowing damn well if he kept talking like that you’d soon be on your back begging for him to fuck you. That’s now how it was going to happen, not today. “I’m in charge. Not you.”

“I never said you weren’t, amor-”

You leaned forward, pressing your lips firmly to his as he held your hips, helping you rock onto his cock. “Stop talking.”

He laughs as his other hand pulled you in for another firm kiss, your hands searching for the contract before his hips slam up into you. You pulled away, gasping as he lets out a loud groan, cursing. “Thought you needed some help, mi amor.”

Your hands claw against his shoulders as he keeps your chest pressed to his, using his strength to easily thrust up into you. For fucks sake, he couldn’t even let you have this, but you weren’t complaining as he grunted underneath you and you felt his cock rub against every place you ever wanted him to be. He repeatedly thrusted into you at that perfect rate to hit that spot inside of you that just made your body go limp, stomach twisting and turning.

One of the pros of having a man who knew your body like the back of his hand was that you could always count on him making you cum.

You gasped as his cock finally thrusted against that perfect spot that easily made you come undone, mind blurring as you basically see stars right as your nails dig into his skin. Your cunt clenched and squeezed his cock as a result of your orgasm, a hissed groan falling from his lips as he thrusted a few more times and finally came inside of you.

Your eyes rolled back, the added feeling of his cum spurting inside of you, filling you up as your inner thighs started to register slight heat from the power of his thrusts. You panted as you started to sit up, Miguel letting out a slight laugh before you grabbed the sounding rod and the contract.

“Q-Qué estás haciendo?”

You looked up at him, giggling as you dipped the rod into his cum. “I said I was going to sign it with your cum.”

“Mierda, Y/N, don’t do that!”

“What?! You think I was joking?! I said it was a red flag!”

Thank all of you so much for supporting me!! Even though Bingo requests and Bingo itself is done, I have my next event already planned - please stay tuned!! Requests are closed but they will be open when I clear my inbox, and again, thank all of you so much!!

Bingo tag 𓆩[@ennycutie]𓆪 𓆩[@yoongiwife23]𓆪 𓆩[@urlocalbum12-blog]𓆪 𓆩[@theonetheonly-mee]𓆪

Regular taglist: 𓆩[@lem0ns77]𓆪 𓆩[@cecepop15]𓆪 𓆩[@memeorydotcom]𓆪 𓆩[@your-favorite-god]𓆪 𓆩[@xyzstar]𓆪 𓆩[@just-my-shit]𓆪 𓆩[@your-mom21]𓆪 𓆩[@c78r]𓆪 𓆩[@dizscreams]𓆪 𓆩[@copypastedaphne]𓆪 𓆩[@asrt5]𓆪 𓆩[@xoxomoonlightbabe]𓆪 𓆩[@ineedmentalhelp123]𓆪

496 notes · View notes