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purinfelix · 2 days ago

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── .✦ such a mess together - p. sunghoon

summary: the cute little girl you tutor is always going on about how you should date her smart, good-looking older brother, so why is your annoying, cocky classmate opening the door instead of her? ────── academic rival Sunghoon x reader || sfw, tension, can you tell i love the enemies to lovers trope LOL. || w/c: 3.5k (everyone clap jet is finally writing full length fics !!!)

a/n: ok whos shocked yet another enemies to lovers fic from yours truly - but i cant help that this trope is the most fun to write !!!!!!!

Shocked doesn’t even come close to describing how you feel right now.

You feel as though if you widen your eyes anymore they’ll pop right out of your head, but the thought of him seeing you make such an embarrassing expression forces you to calm yourself. Slowly, he narrows his eyes, clearly not any less confused about this than you are.

“The hell are you doing at my house?” he spits, thick brows furrowed as he looks you up and down.

You’re about to reply with something equally as snarky, but you’re interrupted by a small head popping out from underneath his arm - which is outstretched to hold open the front door.

“You’re here!” Yeji squeals in excitement, ducking past him to throw herself around your waist. You stumble backwards a bit, putting on her head to steady yourself as you laugh softly.

“Hey,” you breathe out, though your eyes don’t leave those of the man in front of you, whose confusion only grows. “I’m here to tutor her,” you say curtly, almost in disbelief that you’d have to spell it out for him this much.

Though it’s not like you’re in much of a position to say much else because, really, you should’ve put the pieces together a long time ago. Being young and uninterested in her studies, Yeji had managed to spend most of your lessons together chatting about her life instead of doing her homework and so you had been told a lot about her - and her mysterious older brother who was rarely around because he was always busy working part-time or studying at university. At the time, you didn’t think twice about the fact that he went to the same university as you or that the times she mentioned him having exams always coincidentally lined up with yours - though now you’re beginning to think maybe you should’ve.

Details like that were easy to forget though, especially when Yeji paid far more attention to the other details about her brother which she deemed far more important. You had spent many afternoons passively listening to her talk about how smart, sweet and tall he was, how he was “practically a prince” - all the while trying to get her to finish her algebra questions. You had even brushed it off when she mentioned that the two of you would make a good couple, and how it was a shame you had never met before.

But Yeji couldn’t have been more wrong, because you actually had met her brother, and far more than you would’ve liked to for that matter. In fact, prior to today, Park Sunghoon had been nothing more than a nuisance in your university life. The one to constantly challenge your points in discussions, to steal your perfect front-row seat or to beat you by a singular mark in final exams. In your eyes, he was nothing but a cocky, good-for-nothing know-it-all who had been unfairly blessed with unnatural good looks which he used to trick your poor female classmates into liking him.

All the details matched up though, times, places, hell they even had the same last name - but it had never occurred to you to put two and two together. Despite this, the shock of the initial realisation pales in comparison to the fact that you now how to continue with your lesson - whilst he sat in the next room over, glaring at you the entire time.

You shifted in your seat nervously, eyes darting between Yeji’s exercise book and the strict gaze of her brother. Seriously, just what was his problem? - you’d never done anything to seriously wrong him, and if you did, you figured the fact that you were helping out his younger sister would be enough of a reason for him to let down his guard for once. But still, he sat there, completely uninterested in the video game he had loaded up as an obvious excuse, eyes locked on you.

The weight of his gaze only made you more anxious and when you brought a hand up to hold your pencil you noticed the slight tremble in it. You couldn’t help but feel irritated, not just at him for being so distracting, but also at yourself for letting him get to you so easily.

“I think he’s looking at you because you’re so pretty,” you heard a small voice mutter beside you catching you off guard. You let out a small laugh, about to calmly tell her to focus on her work but when you raise your eyes to look at her brother in the next room you notice that, for once, he’s avoiding your gaze, clearing his throat out of what almost seems to be nervousness.

“Nice try Yeji, but I think your brother just doesn’t trust my tutoring skills.”

She tilts her head, considering this for a moment - then with the same innocent bluntness as before, she shrugs. "Or maybe he's just grumpy because he got dumped."

A deafening silence falls over the room, and your pencil freezes mid-scratch as you glance up just in time to see Sunghoon's entire expression shift. His eyes widen for the briefest moment before his features twist into something between horror and annoyance. "Yeji," he hisses in warning, eyes shooting daggers at his sister, "shut up."

But it's too late, your interest is piqued and despite the harshness in his tone you can't help the smirk tugging at your lips at the thought of finally having some leverage against him.

"Wait," you say, tilting your head as you look at him, "Park Sunghoon ... got dumped?"

He exhales sharply, dragging a hand across his face. "It wasn't- I didn't-" he stops himself, visibly irritated at the two of you. "That's none of your business."

Yeji, completely unaffected by her brother's obvious distress, hums to herself as she flips a page in her book. "She was really pretty too, she muses, "but she said he was too emotionally unavailable and always busy with school."

You blink in disbelief, then, unable to stop yourself, you laugh. "Shocking," your tone is dripping with sarcasm.

Sunghoon snaps his head towards you, eyes narrowing as if daring you to continue. "What did you say?"

You press your lips together, feigning innocence, but Sunghoon knows you too well for that and his glare only deepens. And for the first time, instead of just irritating you, the sight of him so obviously affected by your words is a little entertaining.

Interesting you think to yourself as you continue with the lesson, now far too aware of how the tension in the air has shifted ever so slightly. He doesn't move from his spot in the other room, or stop staring at you two, but now whenever you look up at him, instead of being able to meet your gaze he quickly looks away, pretending to be occupied with his game. You can't help but find it just a little amusing.

Soon your lesson draws to an end and you begin to pack your materials away into your bag, thanking Yeji for working hard and listening to you - though you're interrupted by a deep rumble in the distance, followed by the sound of light rain. By the time you make it to the front door though, it's gotten much heavier and the plans you had to catch the bus home seem bleak. It isn't like you have much choice though, and you pull your hoodie over your head with a defeated sigh.

"You can't walk home in that," Yeji announces dramatically, clinging to your arm as she looks out at the heavy rain. Suddenly she perks up as if met with a great idea, and turns to her brother - who has been pretending not to listen from the living room. "Hoonie, can you drive her?"

He barely looks up from his phone, though there's a slight delay in his response. "No."

"Why not?" she pouts.

"Not my problem," he mutters.

You roll your eyes, typical you think to yourself as you step towards the door. "It's fine, Yeji, I'll just-"

"You're seriously going to make her walk in this rain?" Yeji cries out as she walks over to her brother on the couch, "What if she gets sick? Then I'll be sad, and when I'm sad I don't do my homework. And if I don't do my homework, I'll fail and when I fail-"

"Fine," Sunghoon groans, rubbing his temple as he pushes himself off the couch in a swift movement. He walks past you, grabbing his keys and twirling them around his finger coolly. "Get in the car before I change my mind," he says sternly.

You narrow your eyes at him and are about to deny his offer but the rain doesn't seem to be stopping anytime soon, and you're not stupid enough to reject a free ride out of pride alone.

"Alright," you sigh, shooting Yeji one last thankful look before following her brother out to his car.

"You live in the dorms on campus, right?" he asks casually. The rain hits the windshields of his car with a harsh rhythm, filling the silence between you two as you get in. The hum of the engine is the only other sound as he pulls out of the driveway, one slender hand lazily resting on the wheel.

"Yeah," you say curtly, not even stopping to wonder how he could've known that. You're too busy holding a grudge against his ability to make every move seem so gracefully effortless, even turning a steering wheel.

You sit stiffly in the passenger seat beside him, eyes fixed straight on the road ahead. You'll admit the car is nicer than you expected - spotless, the faint scent of something clean, a little floral, in the air - but you refuse to acknowledge it, just like you refuse to acknowledge that being here, alone with him, feels weirdly intimate.

It doesn't help that he hasn't said another word since you both got in, not that you were expecting him to, but still - the awkward silence feels heavier than it should. You steal a quick glance at him out of the corner of your eye once the car reaches a red light - only to find that he's already looking at you.

Your breath hitches for just a second, but you recover quickly in hopes that he won’t notice your reaction. “What?” you huff, raising an unimpressed brow.

His eyes turn back to the road just as quickly, expression unreadable as the light turns green. “Nothing.”

You sink back in your seat and the silence resumes, but with its temporary break, you feel compelled to keep up the conversation, even if it means more childish bickering.

“I hope you don’t expect anything in return for this,” you say, turning to face forward again - but your attention piques once you hear a faint noise from him. It’s something you’ve never heard before, something just quiet enough that you almost didn’t hear it over the drumming rain, but you’re glad you did because you swear you just heard Park Sunghoon laugh.

"When have I ever expected anything from you," he spits, but the usual malice in his tone is tinged with amusement.

"I'm just saying, don't think that just because you're doing this for me that anything's going to change," you huff, "if it weren't for Yeji you probably couldn't care less about me anyways."

Sunghoon hums, the corners of his lips twitching as if he's holding back another laugh - he doesn't deny it, which somehow annoys you more than if he had outright agreed. Instead, he just shifts gears smoothly, eyes fixed on the road and you hate the way you find your gaze lingering on his profile for just a little too long.

"You sound disappointed," he muses after a beat.

You scoff defensively, crossing your arms. "Yeah, right." You've always hated how easily he could read you.

He just nods ever so slightly and doesn't press for more but the silence that follows feels a little different now, less tense. You shift in your seat and try to ignore the way your heart is starting to beat just a little too fast or the fact that you're waiting for him to say something.

After a moment, he exhales, fingers tapping the steering wheel. "For the record," he sighs, his tone almost confessional, "I don't not care about you."

You crane your neck, searching his face for any sign that he's messing with you right now, a glint in his eye, his signature cocky smirk - but his expression is again unreadable. Instead, you watch the outline of his jaw shift slightly, almost as if he regrets his words, but he doesn't take it back.

You swallow nervously, unsure entirely of what to do with this new information. "Good to know," you say slowly, looking away before he can see how much that single sentence has affected you.

As you do, you're suddenly desperate for an opportunity to change the topic. "How come this whole time I never knew you had a younger sister?"

"Well it's not exactly like you know much about my personal life," he scoffs - and you have to admit he's right.

"I mean, it's not like you're an open book or anything," you reply, "takes me ages just to figure out what you're thinking half the time with that blank expression. It's hard to believe you and Yeji are even related."

"Right because a guy my age should totally be acting like a middle school girl," he nods mockingly.

"You get what I'm saying," you sigh, going quiet for a minute as you think about what to say next. "She looks up to you a lot, you know," is what you land on, trying to balance your tone between sounding casual and earnest.

You watch as he scoffs, and shakes off your comment with a slight shake of his head. "I'm serious," you say, "she talks about you like you're a superhero or something, even when she complains about you, it's obvious you mean a lot to her."

Even though his expression barely changes, you watch his fingers tighten slightly on the wheel - and the beat of silence before his response is enough to tell you that he's not used to hearing things like this. You find it interesting how even though you're practically complimenting him, he responds as if he's unsettled.

"Whatever, she's young and annoying," he finally mutters - though for the first time, there's no real malice to his tone, only something defensive.

"You're deflecting," you point out. This side of him, the one that's quiet and easily affected by your words, is one you've rarely gotten to see and if you're being completely honest, you're enjoying this far too much to let it go. "I think you like knowing she looks up to you."

He huffs, clearly growing tired of your prying. "And I think you like hearing yourself talk."

You roll your eyes, but before you can shoot back with another remark, he beats you to it. "And whilst we're prying into my personal life, Yeji mentioned something interesting earlier."

You pause, suddenly wary. "Oh?"

He flicks his turn signal on, voice infuriatingly casual. "Apparently, you remind her of my ex."

You feel your stomach lurch, followed quickly by a heat creeping up your face. "Excuse me?" is all you can manage to say.

His lips curl slightly, and it becomes clear that he only mentioned this to see your reaction. "Not in looks or anything," he clarifies, glancing briefly at you before focusing back on the road. "Personality-wise, she said you both have a way of getting under my skin."

You scoff, feeling an odd mix of feeling, irritation and something you don't really want to name. "Wow, should I be flattered or insulted?"

"That depends," he muses, "my ex was kinda terrible."

"Seriously?" you gape, shocked at how bold he's being in sharing this with you, "sounds like you're just butthurt from being dumped."

He actually laughs - fully this time, not just the ghost of a chuckle he let out before. It's still short, and a little quiet, but for some reason it makes your chest tighten.

"Relax," he says, tone laced with amusement, "she wasn't all bad, but she did have this habit of always arguing with me, nitpicking things I did just for the sake of it."

You avoid his gaze, picking up on his signals just a little too quickly. "Sounds familiar," you mutter as you look out the car window at the rain.

You don't need to turn back to know his smirk depends, "Exactly."

The air has shifted completely now. The tension is still there, humming under the surface, but it's now covered by something else - something lighter, more playful, and charged in a way that makes you hyper-aware of how close the two of you are.

Then, just as you think the conversation is over, he speaks again - this time softer, almost absentmindedly.

"But I guess the difference is, I never really cared what she thought of me."

It's such an offhand comment, something he's thrown out just to fill the silence. But something about it sticks to you, lingering in your mind as you nod, unsure of how to respond, and so you don't.

You spot the familiar sight of the dorms approach in the distance and even though you're compelled to feel relieved that this torturous car ride is drawing to an end - a tiny part of you can't help but feel a little disappointed that this seemingly rare opportunity is ending. Swiftly, he pulls up to the front entrance, parking smoothly and effortlessly.

As you move to undo your seatbelt, he stops you once again with his words. "Hey, I hope you're not going to stop tutoring Yeji, by the way," he's turned to face you now, but his eyes are avoiding yours.

You furrow your brows, both at his words and his unusual expression. "Why would I?" you say slowly.

"Well, I mean, I just figured because of me and everything-" he begins to ramble, and it's the first time you've seen him stumble over his words like this.

"Relax, I hate you, not her, remember." You say it in the same teasing tone you've always used for him, but it seems to land heavier than you expected with how he turns back to face the steering wheel, his lips forming a thin line.

You linger for a moment, and something about the air between you feels different - like you're standing on the edge of something neither of you can name. Sunghoon's hand is still resting on the gear shift, his fingers drumming against the leather in a steady rhythm.

"Right," he replies curtly, almost to himself and you can sense just a hint of disappointment in his tone.

You should leave it at that, you know you should. But something about the way he's gripping the steering wheel a little too tightly, or how his jaw is tensed ever so slightly, makes you want to press just a little further.

"Unless," you hum, tilting your head slightly, "you'd actually miss me if I stopped coming around?"

"Yeji would," he replies almost immediately - but you don't miss the way his shoulders go rigid for just a fraction of a second before he speaks.

"You didn't deny it," you smirk.

At this, he finally looks at you and there's something about the way he does it - something heavier than the usual irritation or exasperation you're used to. His gaze lingers, his expression unreadable and for a split second, you wonder if you've pushed too far.

But then, he exhales, something softer flickering across his features before he quickly pulls them back into indifference. "Just get out of my car before I start charging you for emotional distress."

You roll your eyes, but do as he says, reaching for the door handle and pushing it open just as the rain continues to pour outside.

"See you next time, Park," you say, "and drive safe."

"Don't tell me what to do," he huffs, though there's a playful tone in his voice as he smirks at you.

You return his look, satisfied, and finally push the door shut - watching as he shifts into gear, headlights illuminating the street. You know you should get inside and out of the rain immediately but you can’t help but watch as he drives off, heart thrumming in your chest as you find the beaming smile on your face lingering. You shake your heard at yourself, almost as if to shake away your thoughts, before turning to head into the dorm.

What you don’t see though, is the way Sunghoon glances in his rearview mirror one last time before turning away, just to catch a glimpse of you before you do.

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joe-willow · 17 hours ago

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Why are people even writting with ai this is, this is like one of the most stupid thing ever. first of all, this isn't writting at all, this is just lazyness, and moreover disrespect to the art, whether We're writting à fanfiction or à book.

My philosophy teacher made me realize à lot of things about books/writting in general. My second thing is that writting is a Journey, yeah, even if you're writting some bl, romance or whatever, you will put your LIFE into that shit because it UOUR story it comes from your mind and you want it to be real to ksjmsbmsvl come to life to express yourself your idea you you your thing hour vision idk, and even if in the end you hate what you made you put in this increible efforts to make your textile sense and who knows, maybe someone will like it, or not, whatever, you made it you went through it. You did it you're done it you should be proud so I agree, people using ai to writte thing are WEAK. And for writting fanfics ?????? This is even worse. Yall using ai for this don't even know what are fanfics that's crazy

And lastly, unpopular opinion apparently, considering my classmates opinion on using ai, using ai for homework is STUPID. Like why would you do this. I understand that you can hate working for school/teachers and homework but like. Why. This is stupid. Just use your mind, you can come up with insane things yk. Just take some time I swear

And yeah some of you will tell me "oh but I had no time" YEAH FR ME TOO how many times do you think i gave homworks late ? Or not a all ? A LIT OF TIMES. yall need to assume that you didn't do your work and if you didn't have the tume, like, its ok ?????? I mean bro No need to use ai try something even if you only have one 1h left for an essay ig that giving your teacher something made by YOU even if It's hella rushes is better than using ai that will write the most boring shit ever + no sources + you just dont want to think + like oh my god yeah thinking is gonna hurt you + being able to think is literally what defines a human being

anyway, all this to say that ai SUCKS and isn't. And will never. Be a tool. Or a from of art. My ART TEACHER told me one day that I should try to use ai for my works as a tool. Do you understand to what we've cone to. What the hell is wrong with her. Does she consider art as something commercial or that must be done ? Art is you. It's none of the others business. ART IS YOU and I do not mean that you are art. And I don't think we can consider everything we create as art. You're not art. It's you will of creating something that expresses you, in any kind of way possible of what this could mean that will define your creations as art. Art is expressing. ai comes up with the most fifting things for your words, that's all. Ai can't do art. What it does is not art it's not a tool it's pure shit

If I went further, I'd say that no one is an artist (yeah even the people we consider as artists) and that at the same time evryone could possibly be an artist. Artist is not a job its not supposed to bring you money I'm losing my words and I'm really going off topic i already was off topic so much oh my god. Also random thought but art has no tools

Im maybe exaggerating a little bit. But ai sucks anyway. That's all.

no way ppl are using ai to write ao3. what happened to being a tortured writer. what happened to blood on the page. what happened to the ao3 curse. people used to get run over, have their houses burned down, break their entire spines and they still put in the work to finish a chapter. fuck you, using ai. y’all are weak

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bonbonly · 3 days ago

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Hiya Bon, I’ve had a shit day in work and was wondering if you had any thots about biker!carlos??

~💕

hiii, omg im so sorry to hear that!! and as for biker!carlos please im still not over it im going feral ive been going feral over it UGH

bon's thoughts (18+) a/n: only writing this because biker!carlos RUINED me im still studying gang and this is short so im sorry!!!

biker!carlos oh where do i begin, im still like gnawing the bars of my enclosure just thinking about it, and i was just talking to somebody about him dating a uni!reader.

he's waiting on his bike outside a building, and sees you talking to somebody on the breezeway. all you have to do is send him a text and he's grabbing his keys, speeding off to you. has his helmet on and everything, toying with his gloves as you're still ignoring him, chatting to some guy who he definitely doesn't like for a bit too long. biker!carlos just takes off his helmet, biting the gloves off his hand before letting it run through his hair (ok but can he run through me next) and loudly revs up his bike, glaring at you.

arms crossed against his chest, a hardening glare before you finally peel away from your conversation and walk over to him with your books in hand, moving to kiss his cheek. but his eyes are still locked onto your classmate, lips forming into a thin line. and despite his annoyance, he's still helping you with your helmet and asking you to hold on tight as he speeds off to his apartment.

ok but imagine when you're in his apartment, he just lifts you and tosses you onto the couch and takes your clothes off, no words and no explanation. he places the helmet on you, visor down so he can see his reflection. he's definitely fixing his hair in the reflection, smirking because he can't see your confused expression and spits down onto your cunt, letting his cock slide against your folds. your whimpers are a bit muffled and he just chuckles lowly,

"you look good with my helmet on, hermosa," he smiles, before burying himself to the hilt, groaning at how good your walls swallow his aching cock. he's throwing his head back and muttering some curses in spanish under his breath before licking his lips and staring down at you, driving his cock into you at a brutalizing pace.

"i think you forgot who your boyfriend is, mi vida, tsk tsk tsk i always have to remind my precious girl," he grunts, shifting your body into a mating press. he's watching himself on the reflection, watching the way his cock drives into your squelching cunt as he reminds you who gets to fuck your cunt every night.

and if he ever sees your classmate again when he drops you off to class the next day, his gloved hand smacks your ass and he's snickering under his helmet.

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marsdql · 3 days ago

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Get Me My Boyfriend ! [S.JY]

젤리캣 ╱ loving bf!jake х bimbo!reader ──── 0.8?Kㆍ fluff, crack ㆍ you interrupt your boyfriends university lecture for a…..jellycat? ㆍ @teddybeartaetae

You couldn’t sit through another boring lecture. Honestly, you had more important things to do—like getting a Jellycat plush, of course. But more importantly, Jake was in the middle of his class, and you needed him right now.

The minute the lecture hall doors opened, you walked in with your usual confident stride, wearing your cute oversized sweater and your big, bright eyes. Everyone turned to look, and you just smiled, pretending to be completely unaware of the chaos you were about to cause.

Jake, who had been mindlessly taking notes, glanced up at the sound of the door opening, immediately locking eyes with you. His face fell, and you could see the dread in his expression as he realized you were about to make a scene.

“Jaaaaaake!” you cooed, the sweetness in your voice drawing the attention of everyone in the room. You practically skipped down the aisle between desks, your eyes only on him. “I need you right now, babe!”

The professor, clearly not used to disruptions, paused mid-lecture, his brows furrowing. “Excuse me, young lady, this is a lecture. We don’t—”

But you weren’t listening. You turned to the professor, your voice unwavering and sweet. “Hi! I know this is a little inconvenient, but I need Jake. Could you, like, let him come outside with me? I really need him.” You gave a little pout to emphasize your point.

The professor blinked in disbelief, clearly trying to gather his thoughts before responding. “I don’t care what you need, young lady. This is a class. You can’t just interrupt it and—”

“I know, but see,” you interrupted with a smile, “Jake promised me he’d help me get a Jellycat after class. But I need him right now.” You flashed a big grin, completely unbothered by the tension building in the room.

Jake groaned, his head falling into his hands as his classmates started whispering and laughing at the absurdity of it all. He had known exactly what was going to happen as soon as you walked in. He should’ve texted you back, but now there was no turning back.

The professor’s face was red with irritation. “I can’t allow this! You’re disrupting my class, and that’s not—”

You gave him your best doe-eyed stare, tilting your head just enough to make it seem like you genuinely didn’t understand the issue. “Please, Mr. Professor? I really need my boyfriend to come with me. I’ve been waiting all week for the Jellycat bunny, and you know how important that is to me.”

Jake, still embarrassed but unable to do much, cleared his throat. “Professor, I’m sorry… I’ll… just step out for a minute.”

You grinned triumphantly, not even sparing the professor another glance as you reached for Jake’s hand. “Thanks, babe!”

The professor, obviously furious but unable to stop you, huffed as you led Jake outside, ignoring the students’ muffled laughs and whispers behind you.

As soon as you were out of the lecture hall and standing in the hallway, Jake turned to you, his face a mix of amusement and exasperation. “You really had to do that, huh?”

You looked at him with wide eyes, making your face as innocent as possible. “What? I just needed you! I told you I needed that Jellycat, and you were too busy in class to help me.”

Jake laughed softly, rubbing the back of his neck as he looked at you fondly. “You really don’t care, do you? Just walked right into my class like it was no big deal.”

You pouted, feeling a little guiltier than you wanted to admit. “But… now you’re mad at me, aren’t you?” Your voice turned small, though your eyes still had that mischievous sparkle.

Jake shook his head, stepping closer to you as he placed a hand on your shoulder, his tone suddenly soft. “You know I’m not mad at you, baby. I’m just… well, I don’t know why you can’t wait five more minutes to ask for something.”

You bit your lip, shifting on your feet. “But… I need it. You know I get all cranky when I don’t get what I want, and the Jellycat will make everything better.”

Jake’s expression softened instantly, and he let out a soft laugh. He knew exactly how to handle you when you got like this—when you acted all bratty and demanding, he knew you were just looking for some attention and affection. You were a sweet bimbo, and you just needed a little spoiling.

“You really think you can get away with anything, huh?” Jake teased, pulling you into a gentle hug. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

You wrapped your arms around him tightly, snuggling into his chest with a little hum of contentment. “I know I am. And you love me so much. You always give in to me.”

Jake chuckled, resting his chin on your head. “You’re lucky you’re so damn adorable. Alright, alright. I’ll get you the Jellycat. Just… no more interruptions in my class, okay?”

You pulled back slightly, looking up at him with wide, sweet eyes. “Promise?”

He smirked, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “Yeah, I promise.” He kissed the top of your head, his hand still resting on your back. “You’re a handful, but I’m not mad. Just… don’t do that again, okay? You’re lucky I love you.”

You grinned, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “I’m so lucky. Thanks, babe. You’re the best!”

Jake shook his head with a soft laugh, leading you to the door of the lecture hall. “Let’s get you your damn Jellycat before you start another scene.”

As the two of you walked off, you couldn’t help but giggle. You had gotten exactly what you wanted—and you knew Jake would always give in, no matter how chaotic your entrances were.

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hearts4mica · 14 hours ago

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Imagine: Batsis going on a date and batfam not being happy about it.

Masterlist

———————————————————————————

“It’s a classmate.” You mumbled, looking down as you avoided everyone’s gaze.

"A guy from school?" Dick asked, a smirk leaving his face.

"That's even worse!" Damian protested. "Schools are full of hormones and crazy kids."

“It’s valentines day! Im not staying at home doing nothing!” You respond sassily

"Valentines day has nothing to do with this!" Damian asked before sighing exasperatedly.

"Are you even old enough to be dating? What do you know about love?" Jason asked

“Do you even know about love Jason? You’ve been single for over a decade-“ Tim says snickering

"Well i was dead thank you very much replacement!" Jason rolls his eyes.

“And who even is this guy [name]? Do we know him?” Bruce asked finally speaking after being silent for modt of the dinner.

“Well maybe you do?” You asked lowering your voice.

“What does that even mean [name]?!” Jason hufs tiredly why would even his sister go out on a date?! At night! In gotham! That’s like literally asking to die!

Tim almost laughed as well but stopped when Dick elbowed him. "So, who's the lucky one that is going to take our baby sister out?"

"Is he nice? Is he funny? Is he handsome?" Stephanie asked, getting excited. After all she was the one who ‘accidentally’ spilled your secret.

Damian scoffed, "I bet he's stupid. He is a man after all”

“I think it’s that guy that came over last week!” Stephanie says adding more drama to this

“So his name is Bryan? Such a stupid name. Are you seriously going out with him [name]?” Damian says while reading your texts!- how did he even?!

“Damian!” You say while quickly standing up reaching towards him but he throws the phone to Jason

Jason continues to read “Hey sweetheart?’ Ew [name] seriously? Ahem- So meet you today at-” the phone gets yanked from his hands by Alfred!

You thank alfred while he gives you back your phone

“You shouldn’t take things that aren’t yours? Don’t you know that already?” Alfred begins scolding Jason and Damian.

“[name] you can go on your… date but you have to come home before 7pm” Bruce states calmly

“Father are you seriously letting her go?! She will be with a boy! What if a villian attacks. She can’t go she’s to weak to defend herself.” Damian says it was obvious he didn’t want you to go! Since you’re his older sister! You had to spend the day with him! Your favorite brother!

“Thank you very much Damian” you mutter under your breath.

“Dad! Thanks for letting me go! But can’t my curfew be until uuhh 10pm? You ask Bruce.

You are obviously pushing your luck but trying never harmed anyone.

He said no. Of course he would.

Well atleast you don’t have to sneak out today!

———————————————————————————

Your lucky that they won’t stalk you!

Right?…

———————————————————————————

Tim ended up stalking you by watching the security cameras! Of course you didn’t have to know about that! He had the bad luck to watch you and your date have a little peck before coming back to the house.

He is definitely showing Bruce this.

———————————————————————————

Reposts and comments are thanked!

Happy Valentine’s Day!

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ohthecalamity · 2 days ago

Text

Year 6. 10 years old. Mrs M. Spelling class.

to set the scene:

the teacher, Mrs M, only liked Neat-Haired Dancer Kids That Are Seen, Not Heard (you know the type).

I was uncoordinated, opinionated, outspoken & articulate, and hated combing my hair. (aka: autistic). She did not like me.

Mrs M was nothing but nice to her Favourites. She gave them compliments, extra help, lots of leeway with homework & grades.

But those she didn't like? She tried her utmost to make their lives miserable. She loved mercilessly ripping into any & all academic insecurities, making people hate themselves. (I'm willing to bet a lot of my classmates left with lasting psychological damage.)

Fortunately, I did not value her opinion. I realised pretty quick she was not ruled by logic or truth.

In year 6, we had weekly spelling tests. And if there's one thing I've always known, it's words. So my answers were consistently correct, and she haaated it. I didn't give her anything to sink her teeth into.

So week after week, she had to bear it. Be an Objective Teacher, as per the marking schedule. She was openly fuming. I tbh enjoyed it.

One week, though, she must have had enough. Like usual, I brought up my (all correct) spelling sheet. She glanced through it....peeked up at me....looked back down at the sheet....and gave me a zero.

Why?

'Because you started all the words with a CAPITAL LETTER. And these words aren't ALWAYS written CAPITALISED.'

I had always capitalised them in the past, and never been marked down for this. I know for a fact at least a few of my classmates did the same. And not to mention: that's an incredibly dumb thing to nitpick???

I was angry, obviously, but there is only so much a year 6 can argue in the face of someone like Mrs M, no matter how stubborn they are. So I finally went screw it, ok, I'll do this her way. Why not. I still know I'm right.

Fast forward to next week: spelling test, same deal, all correct. And this time, all lowercase, too. And what did she give me?

Another zero.

Why?

'because, if you put a word on a NEW LINE, it should ALWAYS be CAPITALISED.'

other things mrs m has done (hall of fame):

yelled at me for "throwing a chair" when it (after being put up for the end of the day) fell off a table of its own accord. It was not my chair, nor even at my table group. also, I was sitting down and reading halfway across the room

she decided she didn't like one of her previous Favourites (for reasons I won't get into) and yelled at her for an extended period of time. why? because she finished something early, and asked what work she should do next. How unforgiveable...

we did one of those "make super super detailed how-to instructions like for a computer" assignments, and she shouted at me (I sense a theme) for being 'too detailed'.

Oh, and once I yawned, and she shouted at me for that!! Thinking back, a lot of my year 6 was getting shouted at while trying not to laugh. I did openly laugh at her a couple of times. Her reaction was always even funnier. (I really tried not to provoke her though--don't get me wrong. I don't love yelling. Well, nobody does. But specifically, it's loud, and I'm autistic... anyway)

and oh. oh yeah. she told my old friend she was 'too silly' and 'obnoxious to be around', and 'will never be taken seriously in life if she keeps going on like that'. It got to her. It really got to her. She was never quite as joyful/carefree after that talk.

I think of Mrs M as a joke, a place to mine for funny conversation material. She was something I never took seriously, that I kinda enjoyed thwarting. But other people, people in the same class, got actually hurt by her. Had long-lasting effects from all her nonsense.

God, I forgot about that.

when i was a kid i got a 90% on my kindergarten "what are your favorite things?" test because for the question "what is your favorite animal?" i wrote down "puma" and it got marked wrong because my teacher said a puma isnt even an animal its a kind of shoe

#long post #clam lore #<-tag for when I actually write about myself #first time this has properly happened I think?#enjoyed this tho even though it grew so long #nice opportunity to write smth inconsequential & go back down memory lane #might do this more in future hell yeah #maybe next time I can be bothered to fix the pacing...

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suiana · 2 days ago

Note

hi hi hii!! I saw your requests are open so may I pleade request for more yandere classmate oneshots/fics/headcanons anything that is a yandere classmate content cause I really love your writing and those yandere classmates hcs/oneshots you wrote♡♡!! if you need me to be more specific here's a suggestion/scenario:3...(that's a bit too specific if you don't mind hehe)

Yandere classmate transfer to reader's school and class. Yandere meets reader and boomshakalala typical yandere scenario where he falls inlove with reader. Yandere finds out that reader is getting backstabbed and bullied by their classmates. Reader is an extrovert and silly but like can't do anything about the bullying so they just ignore their classmates comment. Reader can be gender neutral or fem, whatever feels more comfty for u to write:>>! yan is a male!

Also, if you're in a writer's block, u don't have to force yourself! Also jst ignore this if u don't feel comfty writing this. Take of yourself and sorry if this is a bit too specific or demanding !

xoxo - Anon

hey anon! you just pulled me out of my writers drought so please have this for valentines

Yandere! classmate who's the new kid and is trying to fit in. Right, the average new kid experience. You're not popular, not a loner, just somewhere in between and trying to get by with all the horrors school can throw at you. No one has enough time to bother with others when they have to focus on themselves.

But there is.

You know how there are some people who peaked in highschool that take out their sadness on others? Yeah, that's right. Those people. And he just so happened to walk into one of these sessions.

Some grown ass man pouring milk over- oh, it's you.

Yeah just like how there's the losers who peaked in highschool, there are the popular kids who remain popular throughout their life. Aka you. And he's fallen for you hard.

It all began one fateful day... When he bumped into you while running on 2 hours of sleep and simply passed out because of the force at which he walked right at you. That's right. He fainted from walking into you.

Anyway, when he woke up, he found out that you had dragged him to the nurse's office and had stayed right by his side until he woke up.

How fucking cute.

He was definitely attracted to you. That was for sure, he still could feel it even when he was still woozy. I mean, you were his type from head to toe! Physically at least.

But now you're telling him you stayed by his side and waited patiently by his side until he woke up? You've got him hooked. So he gave you his number, got you to be his friend, and everything else fell in place.

He started noticing you around campus, talking to everyone and socializing like a freaking butterfly. Figures. You were clearly an extrovert and loved being just an absolute sweetheart. Sweet and kind to everyone around you. He would give you the world if you asked for it.

Then, he started noticing the bullying. The whispers, backhanded compliments... Just everything about it enraged him. It's bad enough that people are being mean, it's even worse that they're called your friends. How could they do such a thing to you? You were a blessing to be around! These people should be grateful that you even wanted to befriend them! Hell, they should be grovelling and begging on their knees for even as much as thinking wrong of you!

The worst part of it all?

You don't retaliate. Or rather, you can't. These "friends" of yours are all kids of rich and powerful people. And you? You're just poor old you, unable to talk back in fear of them ruining your reputation and maybe even worse. They could have you removed from the school, falsely accused of a crime... They're scum of the earth and they know it.

He hates them.

That's why he's taken it upon himself to get rid of them! No problem if he isn't as powerful or rich as these... "friends" of yours... Who can fight back when they're dead after all? The dead don't speak, they can't. They're the best type of sinners, people who've dared to lay their filthy hands and words on your beautiful soul.

Of course... He doesn't let you know that. You're too kind for this world. You'd freak out and have a panic attack if he told such a thing to you! You wouldn't understand. He wouldn't want to scare you anyway. You think of him as just another tired student that's your really nice friend. So he's kept all this hidden away.

But right now? When he's faced with this? Milk? On you? While you're just... Forced to take it all?

How can he not act out?

"You think this is funny?"

His hands are on that losers neck in a second, depriving him of any oxygen possible. Damn you, damn you, damn you. This waste of space should just die now. He was even laughing when he was pouring the fucking milk over your head? Unacceptable.

Simply unacceptable.

"You're a fucking loser."

"You smell like piss and shit, did you piss yourself?"

"Not so much of a big guy now, huh?"

This guy's body is larger than him, muscle and veiny all over. Yet... His body was slowly losing... to him? An average joe?

Then he hears it. Your voice.

He gets pulled out of his rage by your voice. Oh... Your sweet, sweet voice. It's like an angel's touch, the warmth of spring after a cold winter. Usually it would be comforting to him, make his heart soar and face warm. Right now though? it's sending nothing but dread through him. Shit, he's exposed himself.

"Uh... Fuck, I didn't mean to-"

He's stammering, bumbling on his words like a fool. No, god no, he's messed up now. You'll surely hate him and think he's a violent creep. You'll never want to talk to him again and-

-You reached out to him and mutter a thanks? For standing up for you? With that smile and gentle hands? What was that? Did you just ask him to release the guy and go on a walk? Was that a date? He hopes it's a date. Ah, it's on valentine's too. Do you like him? Is this a sign? He's not overthinking it right?

...

Ah.

He's so cooked.

#suiana's sinners #yandere #tw yandere #yandere x reader #yandere drabbles #yandere scenarios #yandere imagines #yandere concepts #yandere classmates #yandere classmates x reader #suiana rambling #suiana brainrotting

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fisheadz · 8 hours ago

Text

If I may reblog with my own thoughts, sorry but I really love this hypothetical game—

There could be more specific stats, be it buff or debuff, for Stan and Ford. It’s less that they’re exclusive to one boy, but more that they’re more common to get depending on who you’re playing as.

For instance, Stan can easily become Irrational. This makes him more likely to end up with miscellaneous and unavoidable missions like stealing or whatever. It also makes him more likely to accidentally cause game-changing or even ending events. Like, a classmate could sneak up on him to say hi while his Irrational status is full, and even if you fail the qte to hit them out of instinct and/or fear, he’d still damage something and Filbrick would get very mad, possibly causing a game over.

For Ford, it would make him take bigger risks for littler rewards; not studying so he could do something else that he doesn’t necessarily have to, or getting in trouble with Filbrick instead of simply distracting him because he’s overconfident in his lying. But it’s not as bad as would be with Stan, nor is it as common.

Irrationality would occur because of poor sleep, paranoia, being low on lives, making risky choices, being unsure about a vision, etc etc. Despite all the things that can cause it, it’s relatively uncommon especially in the early game, and on more cautious runs.

It can lead to new cutscenes and stuff, but it usually cuts a run short if you don’t take care of it. To do that, you can try and get more sleep, spend some time alone, do something the Pine you’re playing as enjoys, stuff like that. But it’s hard to shake because of the unavoidable missions that can lead to game ending decisions and how it usually comes later into the game, with everything becoming unstable and your missions becoming more and more complicated.

Not sure about a specific debuff for Ford, tho… maybe Distress? With similar effects as Irrationality but with unique consequences and events and stuff. I’m also not sure about specific buffs, but maybe things like Surety or something. Obviously all these buff and debuffs would come with their own pros and cons, but that’s the gist of it ig.

That’s just my two cents tho. This is an amazing game idea!!! Something about the psychological dread with a side of the Dark Horrors and survival elements just makes me so excited and gives me the brainworms.

Had a dream last night about a gravity falls game where you play as young Stanley having to sneak around and lie to stay out of trouble with Filbrick. It wasn't really a horror game but it had a lot of horror game-like mechanics and there was a general sense of discomfort the entire time.

The only quest I can remember is one where Stanley gets a bad report card while Stanford gets a good one. Filbrick is out doing business until tomorrow so you have until the morning to try and make it look like you got good grades. There's an option to use white out on Stanford's card while he sleeps and write your name instead.

You could also get future readings from mom, who would give hints on what will happen to you next so you can start setting up lies and stealing in advance instead of scrambling to cover yourself last minute. (If you could figure out what the readings were hinting at. They got progressively more vague as the game went on, going from "I hear" and "I see", to "I feel")

You didn't get to see what happened when Filbrick caught him, it just cut to a game over screen. You could be caught and sent to your room three times before this happens (which ends the quest you're on. Because you failed to lie well enough). There is no way to win. The game would just keep going with scenarios until you lost or gave up

There was a vending machine on the board walk that had warped reflections in the glass that corrected itself when you looked at it head-on

#sorry I had to yap about this it’s just so cool #I would play this game #ah yes inescapable dreadful cycle that never ends without a twist. my favorite!#gravity falls #reblog

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seumyo · 2 days ago

Text

IDIA SHROUD ✰ THE BOUQUET

Let’s just say that your boyfriend wasn’t as subtle with gifts as he might think he is—

“Oh, holy Seven—that’s a bouquet that’s the size of an ogre!”

Yeah, scratch that, your boyfriend knows how to make his gifts known. Not even the slightest intention to tone it down or even conceal it, nope.

You could only blink in surprise as the large bouquet of pastel flowers was thrust into your arms the moment you set foot outside your classroom. Though you had to admit that the petals that were soft pinks and creamy whites are elegantly arranged with delicate ribbons that cascaded down like vines.

So pretty.

Pretty expensive.

“For [Name]!” The messenger gave you a quick nod before hurrying off, leaving you standing there in stunned silence. You noticed a note nestled between the delicate petals, the familiar, neat handwriting (that was annoyingly tiny) unmistakable:

I figured real flowers are better than virtual ones. Happy Valentine’s Day <3 You deserve pretty things IRL too /ᐠ > ˕ <マ ₊˚⊹ – Idia

The message made you smile. Trust Idia to go overboard, even when he refused to leave his dorm room today. You could almost imagine him, huddled over his desk, blue flames flickering with anxiety as he double-checked his order online.

“Ne, those are beautiful!” one of your classmates exclaimed, eyes wide with awe. “Who sent them?”

You hugged the bouquet closer, your heart racing. “My boyfriend,” you tried to sound casual, but the warmth blooming in your chest made it hard to keep a straight face. The collective gasps of your classmates only added fuel to the fire.

Yes, you and Idia have mastered the art of keeping your relationship private. Intimate.

You hurried down the hallway, the scent of fresh flowers lingering behind you. As you made you way to your dorm, you couldn’t help but think of all the little things Idia had done for you. Last week, you found a box of rare sweets from the other side of the globe outside your door. He texted you that he heard they were popular in some dating sim and figured you’d enjoy them. The week before that, you received a plushie modeled after one of your favorite video game characters.

He was always thoughtful in his own quirky way. But flowers... in public? This was bold. Next level. Even for him. Even if he wasn’t physically the one to give them to you.

You placed the bouquet on your desk, admiring the delicate petals. You traced your fingers over the soft petals. You could picture him now, nervously pacing in his room, overthinking every detail—probably wondering how you reacted. If you didn’t say something soon, he’d probably be up all night worrying about your reaction.

But let’s be honest, Idia has enough gadgets and technical equipment to see your exact reaction even if he was on the opposite side of the planet.

Without a second thought, you made your way to the Ignihyde dorm. Access was by no means that difficult because as long as there’s a secret passage, there’s a way. The eerie blue glow of the dimly lit hallways was familiar by now, but it still sent a chill down your spine. You stopped outside his door, hesitating for a moment before knocking gently.

A specific pattern that only he would recognize to know that it was you (as if you hadn’t already sent him a text that you were coming over minutes earlier).

There was a shuffle on the other side, followed by a muffled, “Just a sec!” The door creaked open a bit, and you saw Idia’s golden eyes peeking out, softening when he saw you. “Hi.”

“Real flowers are better than virtual ones, huh?”

His face turned bright pink, the blue flames of his hair subtly matching the hue of his face. “Well, uh—you liked them, right?”

You laughed softly, stepping inside his room. “They’re beautiful. You didn’t have to go this far, though.”

“W-Was it too much?! I knew it… I should’ve just sent a text—or a digital sticker—maybe a GIF. This is why I never do real-life stuff—”

“Idia.” Your voice was gentle, your eyes warm. “I love them. Really. Thank you. It was sweet of you.”

His shoulders relaxed, relief washing over his face as he let you hold his face with your hands. So soft and tender. Idia’s tempted to have you this close forever.

Oh, god.

He’s been reduced to a sap. Like one of those helpless, pathetic male leads that just admires his female love interest for the rest of his days—putting her on a high pedestal. Not that he’d mind that.

“Oh, good. I was worried you’d think it was cringe or something... like... NPC-level cringe.”

“I’d never think that. Besides, it was… romantic.”

“Huh.” He sounded as though in thought, though most coherent thoughts are currently unavailable the moment your face is so close to his. “Does that raise our relationship stats by 10%?”

“Mhm, I guess you could say that. No one’s ever given me flowers before.”

“Wait, seriously? But you’re—I mean—you’re like—goddess-tier…” His face flushed, his pout making itself known. “No one before me ever thought of it before? Those normies are blind and stupid.”

You laughed. “Well… I’m glad it was you.”

Silence hung between you, warm and serene like Idia’s hair supposedly. Your boyfriend’s gaze softened, his expression overflowing with what’s known to be love.

“I’m happy it made you happy.”

“It did. More than you know.”

Before Idia could second-guess himself, he leaned in and pressed a soft, chaste kiss on your lips. The moment was quick, fleeting, but the feeling sent you tiny waves of electricity.

This side of him was rare. So maybe it really went off on the right occasion.

Idia’s entire face turned bright red, his hair blazing in a burst of pink. He stumbled back, his back hitting the door with a thud. “I— uhm—sorry! I got ahead of myself, ugh... I should’ve asked.”

You laughed, your heart contented and at ease with his reaction. “It’s fine, it’s fine! Happy Valentine’s Day, Idia.” You waved to your boyfriend, knowing that you had to finish a few more schoolwork before the day was over. “And thank you, again. I love them.”

You turned to leave. Idia stood frozen at his door, his heart pounding, face still burning. He must have a fever by now—probably went over new high temperatures. As the door slowly closed, he slumped against it, his hands covering his face.

“G-Goddess-tier event… unlocked… SSR rarity,” he murmured, his hair flickering with excitement. He replayed the scene over and over in his head, cheeks still red.

The bouquet was just to start.

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machveil · 2 days ago

Text

something eldritch and old whispered in my ear that König did theatre one (1) year in high school. he worked up enough nerve to sign up for the class once after his mama and sister encouraged him

I feel like he was too nervous to be someone on stage so he was a tech guy. but, but, but, he’d read the script while there was downtime and he memorized all the lines. he’d go home, lock his bedroom door, and act out scenes because no one could make fun of him behind closed doors (he never auditioned because he was sure he’d get made fun of by classmates)

as an adult, he gives closeted theatre guy vibes. you catch him singing show tunes and dancing in the kitchen really early in the morning sometimes. he’s singling musical numbers in the shower when you aren’t home, and if you come home and hear him he gets embarrassed afterwards if you mention it. Dad!König would be so heavily invested if his child(ren) wanted to do theatre at school. he’s helping them practice, making sure they warm up, reads for different characters. he kind of gets to live out being in theatre again by helping his kid. gets a little teary eyed in the shitty auditorium seats watching them on stage

#is this anything #anyways #konig #könig #könig cod #könig call of duty #könig headcanons #cod #cod thoughts #call of duty #hit post

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gloomwitchwrites · 13 hours ago

Note

Hiiiiii, stumbled across your blog when trying to find COD fics to gush over and yours are SO FUCKIN GOOD. I love how you write the TF 141 guys!!

My personal fave is Simon and I thought the SFW ABC’s HC were so cute! I’m wondering if you’d be interested in writing a NSFW ABS’s for him as well!

Don’t rush it or feel pressured to do it tho. Thank you pookie ❤️

Oh my goodness! I remember the SFW Alphabet I did for Simon. That was forever ago, back when I first broke 1k followers. Compare that to now with over 6k and if feels like ancient history.

I am more than happy to do a NSFW Alphabet for Simon!

Word Count: 1.1k

NSFW Alphabet Template

A = Aftercare

Aftercare all depends on the relationship. If it’s a quick fuck or a casual thing, Ghost isn’t really all that interested in providing aftercare. He might allow a brief cuddle, or some stiff conversation, but he’s more interested in getting his dick wet. But if Ghost is in a steady, serious relationship, then aftercare is important to him. Not that he knows what he’s doing. Aftercare is not his jam, but if he cares about you, he will make sure you have it.

B = Body part

Ghost loves his hands. He loves that he can kill with them yet bring pleasure as well.

C = Cum

Ghost has a terrible breeding kink. Watching his cum ooze out of his partner makes him fucking feral. Not only does the sight of it turn him on, but he’ll verbalize how good his cum looks dripping out of you.

D = Dirty secret

During his final year of secondary school, Simon got into some serious trouble, and nearly ended up expelled. It wasn’t his fault though, and he felt scorned. So, to retaliate, he fucked the principal’s daughter (a classmate of Simon’s) on the man’s desk. Took her virginity while the principal was in a meeting and the two of them should have been in class.

E = Experience

Ghost is experienced with sex but not experienced with love. He can fuck you all goddamn day and turn your limbs to jelly. But the intimacy part is difficult for him.

F = Favorite position

Face down, ass up. Not him, of course, but his partner. For Ghost, it’s dominating and rough and fulfills every primal urge he has.

G = Goofy

More serious than goofy in the moment. Doesn’t mean that Ghost lacks a sense of humor. The guy can crack a joke, but if he is a bit silly in bed, the humor is dry and might go over your head. Ghost prefers to be completely invested in the moment, and his level of silliness isn’t something he’s thinking about. Now, if something happens during the act that’s actually funny, he will laugh and won’t shame himself or you for it.

H = Hair

Doesn’t care about hair but hygiene. Body hair doesn’t scare him nor does a decent bush. Didn’t shave your legs/armpit/bikini line/face/etc.? Ghost could give a shit. If you’re willing and consenting, and he’s willing and consenting, body hair doesn’t even factor into it.

I = Intimacy

Ghost is terrible at intimacy. Sorry y’all, but he is. Doesn’t matter if it’s a quick fuck or a committed relationship. This man will literally approach you and be like “you want to fuck?” and expect a very clear yes or no answer to the question. But hey, at least he’s clear when it comes to communication.

J = Jack off

Ghost is a rigorous masturbator. The every day kind of masturbator. While he prefers his privacy, nothing is sexier to him than when you’ve been a bad boy/girl/one and Ghost decides what you need is a bit of punishment. He’ll restrain you and make you watch as he jerks off, giving himself pleasure while giving you nothing. Not until you’re a begging, whimpering mess.

K = Kink

Breeding, primal, semi-public, CNC, breath play, BDSM

L = Location

Cramped, enclosed spaces. In the car, against a wall, on the sofa, in the shower. Basically, anywhere where Ghost can feel big. He enjoys having a sense of largeness about him, that he’s trapping you under him. That you cannot escape him when he’s fucking you.

M = Motivation

This man is constantly down to fuck. Sure, talking dirty is fun, but what he really wants is clear communication first. Tell him you want to fuck him, and tell him plainly, and then the two of you can do whatever. A clear, “fuck me, Simon” sets him OFF.

N = No

Simon leans heavy on consent. His hard “no” is no clear “yes.” If you cannot communicate that you clearly want him, he’s immediately turned off. That also includes how he sets up a CNC with you.

O = Oral

Gives and receives equally. He doesn’t necessarily prefer one over the other. But when he does receive, he is vocal. Ghost wants you to know that he appreciates you going down on him, but also how much he enjoys it. When it comes to giving, Ghost is sloppy…but in a good way.

P = Pace

Ghost mixes it up depending on position. If he’s looking to draw it out, he’s going to go slow just because he wants to watch you squirm and wiggle. But otherwise, he’s all rough edges, wants to hold you down and fuck you until you’re both senseless and dazed. Even in his roughness, he won’t hurt you, but he might leave some marks behind.

Q = Quickie

Loves a good quickie. Just say the word and Ghost will bend you over or put you on top of the nearest surface and go for it.

R = Risk

As long as Ghost has your enthusiastic consent, he’s down for anything. If there is anything new you want to try, he’s open to do it, but is also good about setting boundaries especially if this new thing might possibly harm you or himself. A risk taker, but understands that the risks might outweigh the benefits.

S = Stamina

This man has the stamina of a fucking horse. He can go for miles if he paces himself. Ghost isn’t the kind of guy to tap out after one round. Sure, he might need a few minutes to breathe, but he’ll be ready to go against shortly after.

T = Toys

While he doesn’t personally own a plethora of toys, Ghost isn’t afraid of using them. His favorite ones are the kinds that vibrate…especially if he can use them on you and have complete authority over the controls. Expect to be edged and have your orgasm denied constantly.

U = Unfair

Ghost isn’t a tease unless he thinks you’ve earned it as a punishment.

V = Volume

Ghost is vocal but he’s not loud about it. If he’s going to drop praises, he’s going to say it like he’s passing on a secret. You don’t find this man yelling his pleasure to the ceiling. He’s all soft grunts and groans. But you? You can be as vocal and loud as you need to be.

W = Wild card

Ghost is a visual creature. He enjoys simply watching you. Watching you get dressed and undressed. Watching you shower. Watching you get ready for bed or ready for the day. He loves looking at you wearing something sexy or nothing at all. He stares.

X = X-ray

Under those clothes, Ghost has a decent bush. Keeps it lightly trimmed but a bit wild. Absolutely a good mix of length and girth. Just above average size. He fits…snuggly.

Y = Yearning

When it comes to a committed relationship, Ghost yearns for you all the time. He is always ready, and always eager if you are. He thinks about you constantly.

Z = Zzz

If it’s just casual sex, Ghost is falling asleep immediately. The man is a rock. Lights out. But if this is a committed relationship, Ghost will stay awake long enough to get you the aftercare you deserve before promptly passing the fuck out. Sorry, but he snores.

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sincerelyneo · 17 hours ago

Text

so high school | l.hc

“no one’s ever had me. not like you…”

📀now playing: so high school by taylor swift

❯ summary: Hyuck doesn’t care that high school was years ago; after learning his girlfriend’s experience was shitty, he’s determined to rewrite it for you. After all, he’s nothing if not smitten.

❯ pairings: haechan x fem!reader

❯ genre: established relationship, fluff, eventual smut

❯ words: 6.4k

❯ tags: 18+ minors dni, swearing, fingering, dirty talk, oral sex (male receiving), face fucking, exhibitionism, reader uses she/her pronouns, lots of gendered female terms, slight begging, brief possessiveness and jealousy bc it’s me, a brief cheating accusation but it’s stupid, hyuck being a cute boyfriend for 6k words.

an: did someone say haechan lover boy smut for valentine’s day? (they didn’t, lol. i wrote this for me, i love men in love)

“I fucking loved high school,” Hyuck says, placing down his yearbook on the coffee table.

It had to be a few years old by now, stuffed at the back of one of your bookshelves. You’d found it while doing an annual declutter and handed it to him on a whim. Knowing your boyfriend, you figured he’d find it nostalgic, or funny, or both.

You glance at him from your spot on the couch, eyebrow arched. “That doesn’t surprise me.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He shifts, sitting up straighter.

“You were on the football team, babe. Voted prom king, had good grades, and probably never had to eat lunch alone,” you list off, counting on your fingers for dramatic effect. “I’d be shocked if you did hate high school.”

He laughs with a shake of his head, sinking back further into the sofa. “Okay, fine, maybe I was a little... popular.”

You roll your eyes, but a laugh slips out before you can help it. “A little? I bet you walked through the hallways like you were the lead in a drama or something stupid like that.”

He nods. “Damn right. I was the shit.”

You scoff, tossing a pillow in his direction. He’s such a cocky bastard—but you love that about him.

“Jealous?” he shoots back, smirking.

You try to playfully roll your eyes, but instead, a small frown pulls at your lips. You know he’s just teasing, messing around, but memories of junior and senior year creep into your mind uninvited. You’d never been outright bullied, but high school wasn’t exactly a highlight reel for you.

It was a blur of sitting in the back row, trying to make yourself small enough to avoid attention. Lunches alone in the library. No group of friends. No teenage dream. Dances you skipped, pretending you didn’t care when your chest ached from watching your classmates gush over photos the Monday after.

So yeah, you were a little jealous.

“Yes, actually,” you say finally, voice quieter. “High school sucked for me.”

His grin falters, posture straightening. “What?”

“I mean, it wasn’t all bad,” you rush to explain, suddenly self-conscious. “I got through it, you know? I just wasn’t... you.”

Hyuck leans back, studying you with a look you don’t see often on him—concern, worry. “What do you mean you weren’t me?”

“I wasn’t popular or cool or good at sports. I didn’t have a big friend group, and I definitely didn’t win prom queen…not that I even went.”

Hyuck doesn’t respond right away, and when you finally glance up, you find him staring at you with an expression you can’t quite place. There’s no teasing glint in his eyes, no cocky smile playing at his lips. He just looks... sad.

“Wait,” he says, his voice softer now. “You didn’t go to prom?”

You shrug. “Didn’t really have anyone to go with.”

He blinks at you like you just told him you spent your teenage years stranded on a deserted island, which for the likes of Hyuck, not attending prom was the justified equivalent.

“Are you serious?”

“Hyuck, it’s not a big deal,” you say quickly, waving him off. “High school just wasn’t my thing.”

“Not a big deal?” he repeats. “Babe, prom is like... the peak of high school. It’s the one night everyone remembers forever. How did no one ask you? I can’t wrap my head around that.”

You can’t help but laugh, despite the tightness in your chest. “Not everyone peaked in high school, Hyuck. Some of us just... took it for what it was: school.”

His expression softens even more, guilt creeping into his features as he scoots closer, his thigh brushing yours. “You know you deserved better than that, right?”

“Hyuck—”

“I mean it,” he says firmly, cupping your face in his hands. “If I’d been there, you would’ve been my prom queen. Hell, I’d have skipped the whole damn thing just to hang out with you if you didn’t wanna go.”

The honeyed warmth in his voice makes your throat tighten, and you hate how easily he can do this—take the ache of old memories and replace it with something softer, lighter. Something you almost want to believe.

“Too bad we didn’t meet until after high school,” you say, forcing a smile.

Hyuck falters—but only for a moment. His gaze lingers on you as if a thought is forming behind his dark eyes.

“Yeah,” he murmurs, brushing a kiss against your forehead. “Too bad.”

You don’t think anything of it when he pulls you into his chest, resting his chin on your head as the conversation drifts elsewhere. But later, when he’s holding you close and you’re half-asleep, Hyuck is still thinking. Planning.

Because Lee Donghyuck might not be able to rewrite your past, but he’s damn sure going to be the best part of your future—trust.

Hyuck just couldn’t stop thinking about it.

The coolest person he’d ever met—his girlfriend, his soulmate—hadn’t gotten to live the high school teenage dream. No prom, no stupid corsages, no dancing barefoot at the end of the night because the heels were too much. Nothing.

It didn’t make sense. You were too fucking beautiful to be treated as background noise by those losers. Hyuck remembers the day he met you—a fully grown man—and you made him a stuttering mess. He’s never asked Mark for flirting advice ever in his life, but fuck, he wasn’t about to miss his chance with you.

How could they just disregard you?

He raked a hand through his hair, frustrated. How did no one ask you out? Were they blind? Or just stupid? What kind of idiot couldn’t see what he saw every day?

The thought of you sitting at home on prom night, like it didn’t matter, made his chest ache. He couldn’t picture it—because you were you, the type of person every cheesy teen movie was written about: beautiful, funny, and so damn perfect. And yet... those assholes in high school had somehow missed it.

And even though the sick, selfish, possessive side of him is so fucking grateful that he’s the only one that’s ever had you, and those assholes missed out, he still can’t help but obsess over it. He couldn’t change the past, no matter how much he wanted to, and that realization burned.

Hyuck groans, tipping his head back. “I’m losing it,” he mutters, mostly to himself.

But he couldn’t let it go. And because he was Lee fucking Donghyuck, when something got under his skin, he acted on it. Which is why, two days later, he finds himself standing in the middle of a small-town gymnasium, arms crossed over his chest as he surveys the scene in front of him.

“Is this the best you can do?” he asks, unimpressed.

Mark, balancing precariously on a ladder while stringing up fairy lights, glares down at him. “Dude, shut the fuck up,” he snaps. “You gave us two days to put this together. Do you even know how hard it was to convince the principal? I had to name-drop you!”

Hyuck ignores him, his eyes sweeping over the room again. Mark wasn’t wrong—he had given his friends next to no time to work with. But that didn’t stop him from wanting it to be perfect. You deserved perfect.

A cheap speaker sits on the ground, currently blasting some old prom playlist Mark had found online. The string lights slowly started taking shape, casting a soft glow across the gym. There is a table in the corner with a bowl of something pink and suspicious-looking, and a few chairs scattered around. It wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t great either.

Mark climbs down from the ladder, dusting his hands on his jeans. “I think it looks fine.”

“Fine?” Hyuck repeats, scoffing. “Mark, this is a high school prom. It’s supposed to be magical or whatever. This just looks like... a school event.”

“Because it is a school event,” Mark shoots back, rolling his eyes. “Look, man, if you wanted a five-star gala, maybe you shouldn’t have sprung this on me last minute.”

Hyuck sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. He wasn’t trying to be an ass, but he wanted, needed, to do this for you. You’d brushed off your high school experience like it was no big deal, but he could tell it meant something to you. Maybe not in a way you wanted to admit, but it was there.

And now it was his job—no, his mission—to fix it.

“Just... add more lights,” Hyuck says finally. “And maybe some balloons? Chenle, do we have balloons?”

Chenle, who was sweeping the floors, looked back with a shake of his head, scurrying off before he got caught in the crossfire.

Mark groans. “Hyuck, if we add any more lights, the entire gym’s gonna blow a fuse. And no, we don’t have balloons. You’re lucky I even managed to get lights.”

Hyuck sighs again, running a hand through his hair. He had money, sure—that was the only reason he’d managed to rent out the gym on such short notice—but even he couldn’t buy time.

Still, as he looked around the gym, he felt a flicker of pride. It wasn’t perfect, but it was something. He’d move mountains for you if he had to. And if this half-assed prom was the closest he could get, then so be it.

Mark claps a hand on his shoulder, jolting him out of his thoughts. “Hey,” he says, softer now. “She’s gonna love it, dude. Stop stressing out.”

Hyuck nods, swallowing hard. “Yeah.”

Your boyfriend’s acting weird. Well, weirder than usual.

Hyuck’s always been a little odd—but that’s one of the things you love about him. The endless hobbies he picks up and abandons in a week like juggling, the random facts he collects from late-night YouTube rabbit holes, and his never-ending need to one-up his friends in bets and challenges. But this? This feels different. Like it’s more than some dumb dare or fleeting obsession.

For the past two days, he’s been unusually secretive. You’ve caught him whispering with Mark on the phone more than once, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial hush whenever you’d walk into the room. And then there was yesterday—when you brought coffee to his rehearsal. You barely stepped inside before the entire group went awkwardly silent, and Hyuck practically herded you back out the door. Hyuck, who usually couldn’t keep his hands off you in public and loved showing you off, suddenly turning shy…suspicious doesn’t even begin to cover it.

And let’s not forget the disappearing act last night. He came home late, shrugging off your questions with a grin and the vague excuse of “guy stuff.” Guy stuff. That was the moment you knew something was up.

And so, you’ve been sitting on the couch, stewing, waiting for him to get home from rehearsal. The seconds drag, and with each passing minute, your frustration builds. By the time you hear the jingle of his keys in the door, you’re ready to burst.

Hyuck stumbles in, his hair slightly mussed, a garment bag slung over his shoulder. He looks exhausted but excited, strange. He barely gets a foot inside before you’re on him.

“Are you cheating on me?”

His jaw drops, the grin on his face disappearing instantly, eyes blinking at you like you’ve just accused him of arson. You’d honestly prefer it if he had. “What?! No! Why would you even—what the fuck?”

“You’ve been acting so weird!” you snap, crossing your arms. “The sneaky phone calls, the late nights, the whispering, the weird excuses—guy stuff? Do you think I was born yesterday?”

That makes him laugh and you swear you see red. He thinks this is funny? You’ll show him funny.

“If you wanted to break up with me, Hyuck, don’t insult me by sneaking around! Just—just tell me to my face!” Your voice wavers, hurt bubbling in your throat as you glare at him.

Hyuck’s expression softens instantly, his eyebrows furrowing. “Hey, hey, wait—babe, no. That’s not what’s happening here, I swear.”

You narrow your eyes, pointing at the garment bag. “Oh yeah? What’s that, then? Some outfit for your other girlfriend?”

His mouth drops open, and then he barks out a laugh, though he quickly smothers it when he sees your glare. “No! Oh my God, no. Look, just… this isn’t how I wanted to do this,” he pinches his temples “Could you just go upstairs and put this on, okay?” He holds the bag out to you, practically shoving it into your hands.

“Excuse me?” you quirk an eyebrow.

“Just—trust me, babe. Please. Go upstairs, put this on, and come back down when you’re ready.”

You stand there, staring at him like he’s lost his mind. Because he must have. “Hyuck, I am not—”

“Please,” he interrupts, his voice softer now. “Just this once. Do this for me. It’ll all make sense.”

His eyes meet yours, and for all the frustration boiling under your skin, you can’t ignore the quiet sincerity in his voice. Because even though his recent actions have been enough to make your paranoia spike, he’s still your Hyuck—and you trust your Hyuck.

With a sharp huff, you snatch the garment bag from his hands and stomp upstairs, slamming the bedroom door behind you before he can say another word. Your pulse is racing, irritation curling hot in your chest as you yank the zipper down and pull the dress out with more force than necessary.

It’s beautiful. And that pisses you off even more.

Who does he think he is? Sneaking around all week, ignoring you for days, then showing up with a pretty dress and expecting you to put it on without question?

Annoying. He’s so annoying.

Still scowling, you step into the dress, the silky fabric gliding over your skin like it was made for you, and knowing Hyuck he’d probably ask someone to do that for him. It fits perfectly, hugging every curve, and when you catch your reflection in the mirror, your anger stutters—just for a second. It’s beautiful. You look beautiful.

Damn it.

You swipe at your eyes before anything ridiculous like tears can form and square your shoulders. Fine. You’ll wear the dress. But you’re not going to let him off the hook so easily. Throwing the door open, you march downstairs, irritation simmering beneath the surface of your foundation. “Lee Donghyuck, you better—”

But you freeze.

Because he’s standing at the bottom of the steps in an equally beautiful suit, rocking on his heels, with a small, nervous smile playing on his lips. He’s holding a corsage in his hands—delicate flowers wrapped in silk, matching your dress perfectly.

And then, all at once, it clicks.

That fucking yearbook you found. The conversation that came after it. The sneaking around. The secrecy.

Your breath catches in your throat, warmth creeping up your neck as a blush dusts his skin. He chews his lip, eyes flickering up to meet yours, and if you didn’t know him any better, you’d swear he was nervous.

Hyuck never gets nervous.

“Do you wanna rewrite prom with me?”

And just like that, you break.

Tears slip down your cheeks before you can stop them, and Hyuck’s smile falters just slightly as he steps forward, hand reaching out to you, as if he’s ready to catch you, to hold you close, if you were to fall. But you don’t fall. You just nod, because it feels impossible to do anything else.

How could you say no to him? How could you possibly deny the one person in the world who would do something like this for you—not because he had to, but because he wanted to, because he loves you to a point you never thought possible because he needs you to be happy.

“I love you,” you choke out through your happy tears, the words tumbling from your lips before you can stop them.

Hyuck’s worry shifts into something warmer, something softer. He steps closer, brushing his thumb gently against your cheek to wipe away the tear.

“Does that mean we’re not breaking up, then?” His voice is teasing, but there’s a tenderness underneath, a soft hope in his eyes that mirrors the love you just confessed.

Your heart skips a beat, and you nod through blurry eyes, a small smile breaking through. “Not even close.”

His face splits into the brightest grin you’ve ever seen, and before you can say anything else, he’s pulling you into his arms, rocking you side to side like he’s never going to let go. It’s overwhelming—the warmth of him, the scent of his cologne, the steady beat of his heart against your ear. And for once, you let yourself lean into it, let yourself feel just how much he loves you, because God, does he know how to show it.

“I love you too, you know,” he murmurs, voice quieter now, meant just for you. “Like, stupidly. Like, I’m gonna remind you every day until you’re sick of me, because I never want you to think I’m cheating on you ever again.”

You huff a laugh, sniffling. “I don’t think I could ever be sick of you.”

“Mm, we’ll see about that.” He pulls back just enough to look at you, taking in the glassiness in your eyes, the heat in your cheeks. Then, with a smirk, he presses the corsage into your hands. “Your favourite colour.”

“Now,” he says, stepping back and offering his arm, “if we don’t leave soon, Mark might actually rip my balls off.”

It takes you a second to register what he means, and when you glance past him, you see Mark leaning against his car, arms crossed, exuding pure suffering. He looks like he’d rather be anywhere but here, but you know your Hyuck can be very convincing.

“Are you two done?” Mark calls, exasperated. “Because I have better things to do than play chauffeur for your little rom-com tonight.”

“Liar!” Hyuck yells, dragging you toward the car. “If you weren’t here, you’d be playing video games with Chenle or something. Your life is boring and bitchless!”

Mark groans but doesn’t deny it.

“Wait! One more thing,” Hyuck gasps, stopping you just as you’re about to step into the car. Before you can question it, he’s already sprinting back inside. A few seconds later, he bursts through the door, holding up a letterman jacket that doesn’t match your old school’s colours, but his.

And when he drapes it over your shoulders, his fingers lingering just a little longer than necessary, his gaze catches on his surname stitched across your back. His cheeks flush that familiar shade of pink, and for once, he’s the one left speechless.

You clutch your hands to the jacket, making sure it doesn’t fall off and you can’t stop smiling. Because even though he was just being a fouled-mouthed menace to his friend. He’s clearly only ever sweet and soft with you. Hyuck opens the car door for you and he slides in beside you, lacing his fingers through yours like it’s second nature, like they belong. You look down at your joined hands, his thumb stroking slow circles against your skin, and warmth blooms in your chest.

The corsage, the letterman, the chauffeur to prom. It’s silly. It’s cheesy. It’s the kind of thing you used to roll your eyes at in movies as a teenager. But right now, with him, you wouldn’t trade it for the world. Because he’s rewriting how you feel about the cheesy stuff, giving you the giddy, reckless kind of love you never got to have.

Letting his hand rest on your thigh, making you stifle your sighs as it slowly crept up your flesh. His touch is heedless and uncaring as if Mark wasn’t inches away in the front seat. It’s compulsive, carless, and so ridiculously juvenile—it’s so high school.

Which feels very on-brand as you pull up to an old brick building. Mark cuts the engine, allowing Hyuck to round the car and open your car door before holding your hand tight and walking you towards the football field.

So many memories flooded back to you as soon as he opened the gate that led to the field. Heels on the grass, on the sacred sanctuary you never had the chance to belong on. Suddenly you’re sixteen again and Hyuck leds you over to the bleachers, climbing up several rows before taking a seat and pulling you down next to him.

"Are we trespassing right now?" you ask, slipping your arms into his letterman to ward off the winter chill. "I know you love me, but you don’t have to commit a crime for me."

Hyuck scoffs, a playful smirk on his lips. "Please, you know I wouldn’t think twice about committing a crime for you if you asked me to." He pauses, then adds, "But no, we’re not trespassing. This is my old high school, and since I'm such an outstanding alumni, I had some strings pulled. They left me the key for tonight."

You roll your eyes, trying to hide your smile. "So they did all this just for you, huh?"

“Don’t look at me like that, this is for us.”

"Uh-huh," you tease. "I must say, knowing how to ball in high school seems to have its perks. I was in the wrong clubs clearly. You’re basically the only person I know who managed to continue peaking after high school."

Hyuck’s smile falters, a flicker of something sad crossing his face. His eyes drift downward, and you catch that same troubled look he had when you found his yearbook—when he learned how different your high school experiences were. You don’t want him to feel like that, not when he’s trying so hard to fix it. But you don’t want him to fix it either, because as messed up as your teenage years were, they led you to him. No one’s ever had you. Not like him anyway.

You slide your hand over his, squeezing gently as you move closer. “You didn’t have to do all this for me, you know?”

Hyuck chuckles, that flicker of sadness vanishing as quickly as it came. “Don’t say that. You haven’t even seen what I’ve got planned inside yet. I had all the boys stressed over fairy lights and balloons all week.”

Knowing how much effort he’s put in makes you smile, your fingers drifting up to trace the curve of his cheek. He’s so beautiful. So in love. So undeniably yours.

“I’m excited to see it,” you say. “But right now, I just want to be here. Is that okay? I never really got to hang out on the bleachers.”

“Will you yell at me if I say that a sick part of me loves that you never cheered for other guys playing football?”

You shake your head with a smile. “You’re ridiculous.”

“I’m just saying,” he continues, undeterred. “Yeah, I wanna kill those assholes for never inviting you to a game, for not taking you to prom. But I also love that I get to be the one to do it with you. Even if we’re adults.”

You bite your lip, feigning hesitation. “Well, I have some information I think you might like.”

Hyuck raises a brow. “Oh?”

“I always wanted to make out under the bleachers,” you admit, heat creeping up your neck. “Call me cliché, but when I was a freshman, I imagined having my first kiss with Lee Felix under there.”

His nose crinkles instantly. “I don’t know who that is, but I hate him.” Hyuck scoffs, but his hands are already sliding around your waist, pulling you closer. “Still… this night is about me making your fantasies come true. So fuck that guy and let me kiss you, baby.”

And you do—let his lips capture yours, kissing you until they’re swollen and puffy, until they mould perfectly to his, like they were always meant to. Until there’s no doubt that they, and you, belong to him.

Hyuck wastes no time, scooping you into his arms with ease, carrying you into the shadows beneath the rickety metal frame. And then his lips are on yours again—hungry, unrelenting. It’s everything you ever imagined. No—better. Because it’s him and you.

His hand trails up your body as he presses you against one of the cold metal pillars, calloused fingers graze your thigh, leaving goosebumps in their wake. Years of football have roughened his touch, but it’s the way he holds you—like he can’t get enough, like he never will—that really makes your breath hitch. And you almost want to laugh, because you’re pretty sure most people fuck after prom, not before it. But this is you and Hyuck. You’ve never played by the rules, never followed the scripted path. You never wanted to.

And that’s exactly why a soft, desperate “Please,” slips from your lips as his fingers venture higher, until they’re brushing against the hem of your panties.

“Cute,” he smiles and murmurs against your lips, grinning as his fingers slip beneath the fabric, his cool touch grazing your clit. You shiver, and it only makes him that more pleased—more proud. His other hand glides up your stomach, sneaking beneath your dress until he’s palming your breast, his thumb teasing over your nipple.

“You know…” he muses, voice dripping with amusement, “I paid good money for this dress. It’d be a shame to ruin it.”

“Please. You’d never buy me a dress you didn’t plan on ruining.”

Hyuck giggles, shaking his head, but before you can run that smart mouth of yours again, his finger slips so easily into your pussy, and you gasp, clinging to his shoulders.

“Fuck,” he breathes against your ear, voice thick with need. “I love that you know me so well.”

His fingers keep working you, desperate and wild—because if you know Hyuck so well, he knows you even better. Knows your body like it’s his to worship. And when he adds a second finger, stretching you open, pleasure floods through you so intensely your eyes flutter shut, your head tipping back as a moan catches in your throat.

But that won’t do.

Hyuck likes to watch you. Likes to see the way your lips part, the way your brows knit together, the way your pupils blow wide with nothing but him. He wants you to know—no, needs you to know—that he’s the one making you feel this good. That it’s his touch unravelling you, his name you should be thinking about, whimpering, crying out.

So the second your lashes flicker, his fingers slow, teasing, withholding. You whimper, forced to open your eyes again, hazy and weak—just the way he likes them—just the way he needs them to be before he picks up his pace.

He’s meticulous, careful—determined to make you cum right here, right now. If your fantasy was just to make out under the bleachers, Hyuck is going to take it further, push it past anything you ever imagined. He’s going to make you cum here, again and again, until this moment is burned into your memory. Until you can never think about high school, about this field, about these bleachers, without thinking about him. About the way he touched you. About the way he made it perfect. He always makes everything perfect.

“Need you to cum all over my fingers, pretty girl. Come on,” he murmurs, pinching your clit as he tries to coax an orgasm out of you. And it doesn’t take long. The honeyed rasp of his voice, the relentless rhythm of his fingers, the way his eyes stay locked on yours—it’s all too much. You shatter around him with a high-pitched moan.

“Atta girl,” he breathes, watching you with nothing but admiration. “So fucking pretty when you cum for me.”

Your mind is fuzzy, his words melting into white noise as you come down from your high on shaky legs. If it weren’t for the pillar at your back, you’re certain you’d be a puddle on the floor. Hyuck holds you close, his hand stroking your hair as he murmurs soft praises against your ear—something about being so pretty, so good, so his. But all you can focus on is the growing bulge in his pants, the evidence of just how much he wants you. A bulge you put there. One you’re aching to take care of.

You start to drop to your knees, and he sucks in a breath, his eyes locked on yours.

“Stop,” he commands harshly, stepping back as if something’s shifted. It forces you to stand up straight again, confusion crossing your face.

“Don’t you want me to—”

“Oh, I fucking want you to, and you’re going to,” he growls. Then, he peels off his suit jacket and drapes it on the concrete floor between you two. “Now, you can get on your knees for me, Y/N,” he orders, his voice rough and commanding, but then it cracks, desperately. “Please.”

You lower yourself onto his suit jacket, kneeling before him, palms pressing firmly against his thighs. His erection is hard, straining through his suit pants, but he’s waited—waited until he knew you’d be most comfortable because that’s just who he is.

“Look at you,” he says, running his thumb over your mouth. “Puffy lips parted and ready for me. Big fucking eyes, so innocent, so needy.”

“Only for you, Hyuck,” you breathe softly as you start undoing his belt and his jaw visibly ticks.

You’ve sucked his cock before—of course you have, and you love it. And still, he looks at you like it’s the first time, nostrils flaring, pupils dilated, as he drinks in every detail of your eagerness. He’s so hungry to feel you, to get lost in you—so feral.

Using his forefinger, he lifts your chin, forcing your chin and attention on him. “I know, baby. Only me. Always me.”

You run your tongue over your lower lip, and he tracks the entire thing, looking like some kind of predator.

“Take it out.”

You comply, dropping his pants to his ankles and tugging his boxer briefs down with them. His cock springs free, angry veins visible and the tip glistening. The sight of his straining cock right in front of you pulls this desperate sound from deep in his throat. He traces every inch of your face as if he plans to paint it soon, and you’d let him.

His palm glides over your head again, fingers weaving through your hair, cupping the back of your skull to keep you anchored in place. Rough and dominant—just how he likes it, and just how you crave it.

“I need to fuck your mouth, baby. Seeing you cum in my letterman has got me so damn hard. I need this pretty mouth,” he whimpers as his palm rests on your scalp. “You’re gonna let me do that aren’t you? Because you’re such a good fucking girl.”

You nod and squirm in anticipation, using the tip of your tongue to lick a path over his slit, savouring the salty taste from the bead of precum. His eyes instantly roll back and you grip his shaft with one hand and lick a path from root to tip.

“Mmm,” he hums. “Just like that,” he hisses between his teeth as his entire body vibrates.

You look up at him, fluttering your lashes over heavy eyes. Because the only thing Hyuck craves more than his own pleasure is the sight of yours. You round your lips, sucking him in slowly. Your head bobs as you work your tongue in sync with your lips, but he’s so big, a fact you’ll never get used to. He hits the back of your throat and you hold him there, swallowing around his tip, tears welling at the corners of your eyes as your throat tightens with a gentle choke.

"Fuck—" He lurches forward, one hand gripping the pillar for support while the other tugs at your hair, pulling you off him just long enough to catch your breath—because he's nothing if not considerate.

Hyuck runs his thumb by the corner of your eye, gathering the moisture that pooled there.

“I’m ruining your makeup,” he muses, lips curling into a smirk. “I had prom pictures planned.”

A blush creeps on your cheeks, “We don’t have to take them.”

“We’re taking them.” There’s no question in his tone. It’s simply a statement. A demand. “Then I’m keeping a copy in my wallet, so next time I’m on tour, fisting my cock, I can think about you. About this."

You nod, breath hitching. "O-okay."

"Okay." His thumb drags over your lip again, teasing until you part for him, wrapping around it. He presses down, tugging lightly. "So agreeable. So obedient. Aren’t you?"

"Yes," you breathe.

His smirk deepens. "Good. So you'll keep sucking my cock, won't you?"

You don’t even bother with words—too eager to please, too determined to finish what you started. Your fingers wrap around him, stroking once before you take him back into your mouth, sucking deep before pulling off with a lewd pop. Then you do it again, following his cues, giving him exactly what you know he loves. A slow flick of your tongue along the underside of his head, a firm squeeze as you cup his balls, and then you’re taking him to the back of your throat. His entire abdomen tenses. His breathing turns ragged.

"Fuck." His curse is sharp as he pulls back, just enough to look at you. "I’m gonna cum. You gonna let me cum in your mouth, baby?"

You nod eagerly, mascara streaking your cheeks, spit glistening at the corner of your lips. "Please, Hyuck."

His smirk is wicked. "Are you gonna be a good little girlfriend and swallow it all for me?"

You nod—far too enthusiastically.

"Good. Now, take a deep breath, baby—'cause it’s the last one you’re getting for a while."

He runs a gentle thumb over your cheekbone before guiding your head forward. Your lips part instinctively, wrapping around him as he sets the pace, fucking your mouth with a steady rhythm. His palms cover your ears, his hips roll with precision—nothing but pure pleasure as he chases his high. And you let him. You take it, let him use you because he’s done all of this for you tonight. Because he deserves his reward.

Truthfully, watching Hyuck unravel beneath you—knowing you’re the one making him this needy, this desperate to cum—is your own reward. Because seeing him lost in pure bliss is the hottest thing you’ve ever witnessed.

Your fingernails dig into his skin, leaving faint crescents as he keeps his pace—steady, deliberate—but always mindful, always making sure you can breathe. He checks in with his eyes, just like you said—considerate.

You moan around his length, hips shifting instinctively, searching for friction. And of course, Hyuck notices. He always notices.

"Are you getting turned on from sucking me off, Y/N?" he taunts, through a tight restraint breath. "So wet, even after I already made you cum." He pulls out of your mouth, gaze dark. "Show me. Show me how wet sucking my cock has made you.”

Heat prickles your skin as you reach under your dress, the one he bought, and gather your arousal on two fingers. You bring them up, letting him see the proof, the evidence of just how much you want him.

“Fuck,” he growls, as deep brown eyes turn black as they lock on your fingers. “So fucking obedient.”

Hyuck leans in, grasping your wrist before guiding your fingers into his mouth. His tongue flicks over the tips, slow and careful, savouring the taste—the proof of how badly he’s wrecked you. Of how much you like him, love him.

He nods toward his cock, covered in your saliva, hard and twitching, ready to cum. "Make me cum, baby. Please."

You hold his eye contact, grip his cock, and bring your mouth back to cover him. He moans, head falling back, and you work his length with your mouth and hand, doing your best to take what you can’t handle. It doesn’t take long until his hips jerk in short, sloppy movements. His breath comes out in ragged gasps, moans soft but pitched, the sound of him unravelling.

“Y/N,” he cries out your name in a whimper of desperation. One hand finds yours, holding it tenderly, while the other braces on the pillar behind you. Then, he cums—hard.

He tries to keep his eyes locked on yours, because that’s his favourite part, but the sensation overwhelms him, and he has to shut them. Every muscle in his body tightens as hot, forceful pulses hit the back of your throat.

“So pretty like this,” he pants breathlessly. “Mouth full of my cum.” The pad of his thumb traces down the line of your throat. “You’re gonna swallow it, aren’t you?”

It’s not a question, and you don’t hesitate. You swallow all of him, but it’s not enough. You need more—need him inside of you.

“Fuck me, please, Hyuck.”

He shakes his head, a teasing smile tugging at his lips and then he laughs. He uses the hand he’s had entangled with yours to pull you up to your feet, steadying you gently. “I can’t. Not here.”

You pout, disappointed, your body aching for him. “Why not?”

His smile widens as he adjusts your dress, pulling the fabric down to cover you properly, the moment feeling suddenly too sweet considering he was just fucking your throat.

“Because,” he draws out playfully, “I planned a prom, and like all cheesy teenagers, I don’t plan to fuck you here.”

You quirk a brow, crossing your arms across your body. But before you can say anything, Hyuck fumbles with his suit jacket, dropping to the floor to search the pockets. His hands hover for a second before he pulls out a room key, holding it up like some kind of trophy.

You scoff with a mix of amusement and disbelief. “Very cliché.”

He grins at you. “I think we have pictures to take.”

#nct smut #haechan smut #nct 127 smut #nct dream smut #nct x reader #haechan x reader #nct dream x reader #nct 127 x reader #nct hard hours #nct one shot #kpop smut

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sscieloz · 12 hours ago

Text

Cherry Sky

mean girl!Minnie Yontararak x university student!reader

Synopsis: Minnie needs something to play with after having a shitty day, shitty month, shitty year. Yuqi, as the great friend she is, gifts her something to take off her frustration on: you.

Warnings: nsfw. +18. smut. bites, scratches, bruises, mentions of blood. pain/pleasure mix

Word count: 6.1k

Notes: happy valentinesss ˆˆ, this is my morally questionable gift to you, my babiess. I wanted for it to be freakier but I’m also lazy so I’ll stay lacking.

“There you go. Who would’ve thought you could look this pretty, mhm?” Yuqi told herself, even though your eyes interlocked through her closet’s full-length mirror. “You look like a doll, y/n. I knew you weren’t a lost cause!”

Your classmate’s round, almond eyes might seem innocent to some, but her dirty smirk was a clear statement of all the harsh, subtle comments she chose not to say. You were familiar with her passive-aggressiveness— in fact, you’ve grown somewhat used to it, from observing those same expressions during the many classes the two of you shared for nearly an entire semester.

Out of her evil little friend group, Yuqi was the last one you would’ve guessed to be a STEM major. You still remembered the surprised huff that left your lips when you first met. The blonde girl had thrown her stuff in the seat next to yours, chewing on her gum while ignoring your existence for weeks before even greeting you hello.

There had to be more to her than snappy remarks and a head full of blonde hair. Something intriguing, unsettling enough to keep you up at night, thinking about what else she kept hidden until she was bored enough to stir up some trouble.

It didn’t take long for her to prove she was more than the dumb, fake bitch you imagined. Contrary to popular belief, Yuqi was insanely smart.

It was easy to notice, even with her small, direct answers to your professors during classes. She’d make it clear that this class— and perhaps the major you shared, was something too easy for her. Which, looking at her endless As, indeed it was.

“Are you sure about this, Yuqi?” Your tone was as uncertain as your whole body language, frowning as you hugged yourself to cover up a bit more.

She dismissed you, kneeling to grab one of her pink Adidas samba shoes. To your surprise, she helped you put them on, unexpectedly sweet as she tied your shoelaces without rush.

“I’m serious, Y/n. Relax! God, you’re so tense all the time.” It was her turn to frown at the way you shivered. “You’ll get horrible wrinkles if you act like a granny.”

Your nervousness wasn't from the cold, and even though Yuqi knew so, she didn't comment on it. A small peace offering; one you gladly accepted.

“Relax, of course.” You murmured to yourself, sneaking one last look at the mirror before your classmate dragged you out of her mansion, dodging hallways until you reached her massive garage. Yuqi took her time choosing her car for the night, smiling as if she was having the time of her life. “I’m relaxed.”

“Great! Composure is the key to luck.” Yuqi nodded in approval, starting the car as you shrank under your seat. Her smirk grew dangerous, then, as the vehicle made a curve. “And you’re going to need it tonight, doll.”

For the sake of your mind, you hoped she was wrong.

—

“Damn, a 47%?” Yuqi’s whistle hurt your pride, as she lurked over your shoulder to get a glance at the paper handed to you by the teacher. “For someone who studies so damn much, Y/n, you’re pretty fucking dumb.”

“Do you ever mind your business?” You shot back, shoving the paper in your backpack in hopes your grade would disappear too. Besides sitting next to each other for months now— since none of your friends attended this class and the seats were paired, Yuqi had never talked to you in a tone that wasn’t drenched in poison or mockery.

You hated her guts.

Although you had to accept your defeat, this time. As much as her words were harsh, they weren’t untrue. The majority of your free time was spent hidden in the darkest spots of your university’s library, rereading textbooks and preparing flashcards in hopes you’d understand what the fuck was going on in your classes.

Such impressive, useless dedication. You would’ve probably scored higher without studying a thing.

Yuqi knew that and was eager to rub your failure over your face. There wasn’t a single thing happening at university that she wasn’t aware of, although being a topic of her attention was rather amusing to you.

After all, you were just a stupid, struggling student— much different than Yuqi, who came from the elite and was one of the most popular girls around.

The girl and her friends were the closest thing to royalty in campus. Nothing happened on university grounds without Soyeon, Miyeon, Minnie, Suhuha, and Yuqi’s endorsement. More than idolized, , they were icons: adored, feared, and respected. People clung to them as if they weren’t simply snobbish, greedy, judgmental women with a keen eye for fashion and a weird obsession with humiliating random people for the sake of boredom.

That was, of course, just your humble opinion. Other than that, you kept to yourself, living a quiet life without being involved in any dramas or gossip scandals.

Still, Yuqi’s scrutinizing stare didn’t waver. If only, she was sizing you up, deciding whether or not to make use of her evil mind.

“I can help you if you want.” She commented, adjusting her stuff in her backpack as the entire class prepared to leave. Even though she was pretty good at keeping up with her careless, relaxed reputation, it was obvious she was hiding something.

Her movements were too precise, fingers twitching and twisting like she was desperate for something you couldn’t quite grasp.

You raised a brow, unimpressed. Curiosity got the best of you. “Help me with what, exactly?”

“With your grades, obviously,” Yuqi stated, as if you were stupid. She snapped her fingers in front of your face, “I can round them to like, a 90 or a 95% real quick.”

“My oh my.” You whistled, smirking at her. Truthfully, you found her hilarious. “Am I getting private lessons from the Song Yuqi? I feel honored.”

The blonde scowled as if the thought of spending time with you was out of the question. “Don’t be ridiculous, Y/n. I have way better methods. Besides, with that miserable grade, I doubt you’d learn anything anyway.” Yuqi got up with grace, paying no mind to your incoherent curses as she winked at you. “Think about it, ok? You can message me later.”

As if you had any intentions of doing so. People like Yuqi never truly let go of a deal. Accepting such an offer would tie you to her for a long time— she would be able to manipulate and blackmail you as she pleased. To hell with that; your grades could suck, but you were smarter than this.

Although you screamed back, just to tease. “You didn’t even give me your number!”

Yuqi laughed, not turning around as she disappeared down the crowded hallway. You both knew why: there was no need to. She was already all over the place, anyway.

And she was pretty positive you’d find her soon.

—

“How much did you say you needed for this class again?” Yunjin asked, unpacking her bento box as you sulk beside her. It was too cold to eat outside, but the cafeteria’s seats were already all occupied by the popular crew and their eager minions.

All of those who dared to find a seat at one of the tables were immediately met with straight-up threats; the last thing you wanted for the day was to undergo any further stress.

Sometimes you had to pick which battles to lose.

“An 82%.” You whined, hiding your face in between your hands as you tried not to panic. “I need to score a freaking 82% to pass, Jen. In this hellhole of a class! Sooyoung scored 86% on our last test, and she’s the smartest student at this uni.” With a deep sigh, you shook your head. “I’m so fucked. ‘Gonna fail this for sure, oh my God. My parents are going to kill me. They’re going to cancel my scholarship and I’m literally—“

“You’ll pass, Y/n.” Chaewon chimed in, with her calm, reassuring voice after kissing Yunjin’s cheek. “We’ll study with you. I remember going through hell in this class when I took it, too.” She squeezed your arm, in hopes of bringing you comfort. “It all works out in the end. Try to not freak out too much, please. You can do it, seriously.”

But you were already lost to anxiety, replaying future scenarios in your head. Failing this class would be the end of you. There was no way you could afford it.

“You don’t get it, Chaewonie.” You muttered. She truly didn’t. Your parents would most certainly not accept it, nor would your brain ever allow you to rest if you didn’t make it. “I’m fucked.”

Yunjin patted your back, encouraging and supporting you as she’s always done. Both girls let you sulk this time, offering solutions and options of what you could do to get yourself out of this problem.

The topic changed quickly, soon replaced by an avid discussion about one of your classmates and the other classes you shared with Chaewon and Yunjin. Not that you were listening. If anything, your fingers scrolled down on your phone.

With a distracted mind, you pressed on Instagram. Yuqi’s profile wasn’t hard to find, and you were quick to send her a message. Truthfully, there wasn’t not much to dwell over— you’d back down from her deal if you thought about it too deeply. Submitting to her offer was a terrible idea, after all.

I’m in.

To your surprise, her answer came immediately. She texted an address and a time, nothing more. Although that part was expected. Yuqi wasn’t one to justify herself.

Everything so you won’t fail, you tell yourself.

This is just so I won’t fail.

—

Yuqi’s final destination was a mansion just as lavish as the one you were previously at. You had never seen such thing before: the front garden was neatly trimmed, with a fountain adorning the pavement and tall wooden doors. The lights were arranged so the white construction was glittering in pink and red. Just above the door, a big sign made no mistake of the party’s theme.

Minnie’s Valentine Wonderland.

Embroiled in neat, cursive handwriting, the words made you understand Yuqi’s fuss over the crimson dress she had insisted on you wearing.

Minnie loved being a host. Her parties were always the best; people looked forward to them all season, always eager for an invitation or a hint of the themes she so vehemently insisted on having. It was a fun way of making people put at least half an effort into looking a bit different than their shitty university-sleep-deprived selves, as she frequently mentioned. With Valentine’s Day being so close, it made sense that would be the chosen theme of her first event of the year.

Even though the place was crowded, there was still plenty of space for all the people who gathered on the main floor. You’ve been to one of her parties, once— as a freshman, you had been invited to one of the welcome-to-university parties she organized, as the head of the reception committee, and it was surely one of the best ones you’ve attended in your entire life. Everything had been impeccable, then: the food, the music, the drinks… you excepted no less than that, this time.

After all, Minne has always been one of flattery.

The music inside was loud enough to hurt your ears, but you didn’t mind. If anything, the nerves were taking too much of a toll on you; your sweaty hands refused to go away, no matter how many times you brushed them on the hem of your dress.

During the entire day, all Yuqi had done did was give you orders: sit here. Stay still. Put this on. Ugh, I didn’t like it. Here, try this other one.

You stood true to the older girl’s wishes. With a dress so red you were sure you looked like a car sign, you clung to Yuqi, flustered and exposed at her friend’s party, as she confidently parted her way through the crowd and dragged you around like a doll.

After what felt like an eternity of being under so many pairs of attentive, judgmental eyes, the blonde stopped by the darkened cushions.

Located in the middle of the dance floor— or rather, the living room, given the size of the room and the paintings that weren’t hung to prevent being stolen, you recognized the three intimidating girls that stare down at you. Miyeon, Shuhuha, and Soyeon seemed as disgusted by your approach as you thought they would be.

As if you ever wanted to take part in whatever it was that Yuqi’s evil mind had planned.

“Look who we have here.” Soyeon tossed her drink towards you and Yuqi. “Who’s the lady you’ve got for the night, Yuqi?”

Instead of answering her friend, as a normal person would, Yuqi turned her head around, “Where’s Minnie?” She asked, grumpy to not have met her friend immediately.

Suhuha snorted, falling into laughter while Soyeon rolled her eyes and shrugged, not at all bothered by Yuqi’s petty attitude. “Not here, thank God. She’s even more insufferable with Valentine’s Day being tomorrow, and all. You know how insufferable she’s been ever since Lisa dumped her, that fucking b—”

“Don’t worry, girls.” Your classmate smirked, holding you by the shoulders as she showed you off. “This won’t be an issue even longer. I’ve got one of her favorite presents! Now, just gotta find her. If you’ll excuse me.”

The girls all mumbled together in confusion, screaming for Yuqi to get back and explain her words to them any further. They all sighed, except for Soyeon, whose eyes you still felt burning on your back, as the engines of her brain worked perhaps too fast.

She knew what Yuqi was capable of, and, as of late, that wasn’t an argument she was willing to get on about. So she finished her drink in one go, dancing with her friends in hopes her curiosity would be washed away, too.

—

The grand staircase to the second floor was completely blocked by two fridge-sized men. All it took was a subtle nod from Yuqi and they opened some space for you to ascend the way. Like every other bit of the white-marbled mansion, the place was neat, polished, and strangely empty. Besides the few sculptures in between the hallways, the place lacked warmth.

You’d be at university 24/7 too, if you lived in such a strange place. Although you guessed it suited Minnie. An icy, impersonal place for an equally cold woman.

“Quite a place, don’t you think, Yuqi?” You scoffed, trailing your fingers over the cold walls as you rushed to keep up with her pace. "Very cozy. Gives off some haunted vib—”

Yuqi was done with you. In a swift move, she pulled you to the wall, placing one of her arms over your shoulders so you’d be partially unable to move.

“Listen, smartass.” She spilled, poking the center of your chest with her bony fingers. "Do you know something Minnie specifically hates?”

“Controlling friends that go manipulative behind her back when in reality, they can’t stand her?”

You’ve always failed to understand why Yuqi’s friend group was so feared by others. They were so pretty, so small and contained… you knew of the terrible things they’ve done to others simply out of boredom, but still couldn’t feel intimidated by them at all.

Although, staring at Yuqi’s darkened eyes in an empty corridor made you understand those people a bit. You gulped, suddenly hyperventilating.

The blonde girl followed your chest’s movements, lost in thoughts for a moment. Seconds linger for perhaps too long, and you were about to question what was so interesting when your classmate straightened her posture as if nothing had happened.

“Defiant fuckers.” She muttered between closed teeth, so close you could smell her minty breath, “So how about you close your damn mouth and act like a good, obedient little doll, huh?” You were released from her grip after one final, harsh pull, just as Yuqi added, with a low tone that managed to be even more intimidating than her usual lousiness. "Remember your part of the deal princess, and I’ll remember mine.”

The way Yuqi pronounced any of the pet names she so frequently liked to address people made you sick to your stomach. Still, you couldn’t help but murmur, as the blonde gestured for you to enter a big, spacious room.

“So polite, you are.”

Yuqi closed the double doors with careless strength, her tone strained. “Y/n.”

“Okay, okay!” You raised your arms in defeat. “I’ll be good, promise. Your friend’s good little doll, or whatever her sickening fantasy desires. Now where is she?”

“Well, isn’t that the million-dollar question.” The blonde murmured. Pointed to the middle of the bed, then, instead of answering you directly. “You can sit over there while we wait. Do you remember the rules?”

The room, like all the others, was pretty big, but too light. The wallpaper, the wooden furniture, the canopy bed… all white and impersonal. You felt the need to punch this house’s designer in the guts.

You rolled your eyes, reciting Yuqi’s words in a poor imitation of the older girl. “Just say red if I want out. It’s that simple. Now, where is your damn friend? I’m starting to think you’ve made her up, Yuqi. She’s never around when I bump into you, at campus, and now she’s nowhere to be seen…”

Your provocations irritated her. Crossing her arms in front of her chest, Yuqi turned towards the door in expectation. “You’re unbearable, Y/n. Just shut the fuck up, for lord’s sake.”

The door opened before you cursed at Yuqi. Instead, you both fell silent as Minnie walked in.

You’ve seen her before, obviously, but no everyday look would ever do justice to her party outfits. She looked pristine, impeccable in her pink dress, and long, pitch-black hair cascading down her back.

“What is it, Yuqi?” Minnie’s hard, demanding voice had both you and Yuqi straightening your posture. Her eyes met both of you with annoyance, something somewhat comforting.

Yuqi stood quickly, caressing her friend’s arm as she placed herself beside her. “Well, you’ve been bitching so much about being so stressed and pent up…” The blonde made a brief pause, stretching her arm out in your direction. “So as the perfect friend I am, I decided to get you something for you to play with and cool off a bit, for the night.”

For the first time, Minnie seemed to take you in. How your dress was so short half your thighs were exposed, your white, pearled stockings, the big bow carefully arranged behind your back. Yuqi had indeed wrapped you like a present, all for her precious friend.

Only because the blonde was staring at you like her eyes were going to fall off her orbs, you added to her phrase, with a low, sultry tone. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Minnie.”

Minnie’s provocative smirk vanished immediately. She walked to you, deadly serious.

“And what a pretty little doll you got me, Yuqi.” She stopped when you were close enough you could reach out to her without even stretching your arms. “You do know me well. Is she all mine to play with?”

You hadn’t excepted for her to be so… powerful, in every sense of the word. Minnie’s presence was suffocating, and she hadn’t even talked to you yet. How would you not be intimidated? Rumors regarding Minnie’s… skills and preferences traveled freely on campus, so it was only natural that you were both thrilled and curious to see if she’d live up to them.

This time, your trembling fingers and rapid breathing were not from something bad. Rather than that, you were still wary, of course. But also thrilled— and aroused. You could feel your insides starting to get sticky with the anticipation.

Yuqi might have provided the bigger picture, back in her house while dressing you up, but the result of your imagination went far beyond her simple phrases and grunts.

“Remember,” Yuqi told you, diverging your attention from Minnie for the last time. “If you happen to want out anytime, just say red, and she’ll stop. Deal’s still up, even then.” She meant to speak some more, but Minnie’s impatient grunt had her sighing and walking away. “Bye, Y/n. Have fun.” The last part was meant for Minnie, yet you couldn’t help but be curious by the way she kept looking back at you so much.

If you hadn’t known your classmate to be the insensitive, mocking bitch she was, you’d say her tone was a bit pitiful. Surely, you were imagining things by now.

Yuqi was not one to pity anyone, much less you, whom she made sure to mock and laugh over for nearly an entire semester.

Luckily, there was no reason for the two of you to ever meet again after that night. One night, and you’d have all of your issues solved.

You’d just have to survive the charming, devilish girl who stared at you like you were a piece of flesh for a woman starved.

—

Minnie’s had a terrible month. Everyone seemed to have chosen all of their actions strictly to piss her off. The most simple things were enough to throw her off, let it be someone accidentally bumping into her in between the hallways or her professor giving her a 98% instead of 100%. Either way, she has been acting even more insufferable than her normal self for weeks, now.

Naturally, everyone around her had to suffer as well. If she was irritated, they’d have to pay. It was simply how things worked. Her annoyance would only fade if she let it cool off; physically, preferably.

Usually, Minnie would just scream at whoever was nearby, and throw some stuff around until she was tired enough to recompose herself into her well-known steel princess title.

Now, her best friend had provided something even better. A gift, all for her to ruin as she pleased. To take off her frustration until she was satisfied. A girl so angelical, sitting eagerly on the edge of the bed with big, careful eyes that stared at Minnie, waiting.

Minnie would sure make good use of Yuqi’s little doll.

“You really are a beauty.” Minnie licked her lips, tapping your thighs so she was able to position herself between you. Her hands traveled to your chin, inspecting your face with her big, judgmental eyes who seemed to like what they saw. With a caress, she added, “Yuqi chose wisely. You’re just my type. So, tell me, my dear: what can I do to you? How much will my doll take?”

There was no need for Yuqi to tell you to speak nicely. Now, with Minnie hovering over you with her big hands, you realized there was no way you could ever misbehave. In fact, you were glad to be sitting over on the bed, or else you’d fall right away. Each word that came out of her mouth made you shift uncomfortably, unable to close your legs or hide the way she turned you on by being so… powerful. Her assertive, disregarding tone was so hot, and sultry in a way you’ve never experienced before.

Even if you were cheating your way from a class, you felt the need to earn that through the conditions Yuqi had placed under you. Despite her giving you an outing, you’d do no such thing. You’d be Minnie’s perfect doll, and take whatever she gave you.

For your class, naturally. This was all so you’d pass the class you and Yuqi shared.

Purely because of your goals, you looked at Minnie behind your lashes. Your answer came in a tone as low as hers, barely a murmur. “Whatever you think is fit for me to take.”

Minnie’s eyes grew dark with your response. She hummed, clearly pleased, smiling so brightly her pointy canines showed in both corners of her mouth. You were eager to have their marks on your skin. “Oh, she speaks.” Her hands are placed to your legs once again, as she adjusted your thighs so they’re impeccably in place. Always taking her time; going slowly, running her fingers down your skin as she got familiar with your body’s reactions.

“I have a name, you know.” Her thumb parted your mouth, and she watched you suck on eagerly. “Would you use it for me mhm? It’s simple: just call me Mommy.”

She didn't wait for you to gather yourself as she moved her hands all over your body. Squeezing your things, sizing you up. You were eager too, “Yes, Mommy. I can do that.”

“Wonderful.” Minnie’s hand stopped in your clavicle, tapping your wishbone before bending over to whisper in your ear, “Now say it again, baby.”

You gulped, wishing for her to not notice how fast your heart was beating. Still, you did as told. “I’ll take whatever Mommy thinks it’s fit for me to take.”

“Very well, then.”

That did it. Minnie sealed your lips with her own in a possessive, restless kiss. Her tongue invaded your mouth, dominating, dictating the pace as you tried to keep up with her wishes. Surprisingly enough, she tasted sweet, like strawberries from the peak of the season. She took her time, pressing wet kisses on your skin until she pressed her face against your shoulders and bit, harshly. Minnie laughed when you screamed, out of breath from the sudden pain. She dragged your arms to her own shoulders, delighting herself as she traced her nails over your marked skin. More come afterward, as she kissed and bit your arms, neck, and breasts… owning you all over.

You didn’t expect to like the pain. Certainly did not anticipate how much you’d crave the sinking of her teeth, along with the endorphin that came with her kisses soon after.

“My pretty little doll.” Minnie sang as she took a step back to appreciate her work. She frowned upon your disheveled state, clocking her head sideways. Before you even blinked, she was all over you again, pinning your arms up as she tied them against the bed frame with a rope. “Does it hurt?” She asked, running her long nails down your arms with a sickening tone.

Your breath hitched. It burned a bit, and was surely uncomfortable, acting like a constant reminder of your vulnerability. Somehow, you didn’t mind. You’d do anything to have Minnie look at you with such delight in her eyes, anyway. “It’s fine.”

Minnie’s stare was cold enough to cut ice through it. Shivers ran down your body as you remembered your deal, correcting yourself. “No, Mommy.”

“There you go.” She praised, massaging your thighs once again as she adjusted her hair so it stayed out of the way. “Just such a smart, pretty girl you are.”

Yuqi had spent an excruciating amount of time playing dress-up with you, earlier on. She’d dressed you in white stockings and ridiculously small, red panties that had your face burning when she handed it to you.

All the preparation had been worth it. Minnie licked her lips, certainly imagining all the ways she’d ruin you, make you beg, and cry her name out loud. The wet patch in your panties was even a bit embarrassing. But how could you not be desperately wet, from the way she could barely contain her excitement to touch you? You’ve never felt so desired before. So empowered, even if you were currently restrained and wearing clothes that left little to the imagination.

A warm tongue on your clit brought your focus focus on Minnie. She was quick to ruin your pantie's thin fabric, leaving your pussy bare for her delight. Your wetness was obvious, you were sure of it as she hummed and licked until you were a breathless mess under the woman.

It was agonizing, not being able to tangle your fingers on her scalp and push her deeper into your cunt so she’d stop with this slow, taunting pace of hers. Grunting, you pouted, moving your hands in hopes the knot hadn’t been properly sealed.

“Be patient, doll.” Minnie laughed, looking down on you. Smacked her lips, then, satisfied. “I was just getting a taste of what’s mine for the night.”

Instead of her fingers, you were met with a vibrator humming directly into your clit. You roll your eyes in pleasure, moving your hips aching for more. Minnie gritted her teeth, slapping your thighs repeatedly to get you to stop moving.

“You’re moving too much.” She complained, scratching your thighs with her long, carefully styled acrylic nails. They were painted red, too, with tiny sparkles that have her fingers shining even in the dark. “Do I have to tie your legs, too?”

You shook your head, trying to argue against it. There wasn’t a single, coherent thought going through your mind— all you could think about was Minnie’s touch, so harsh against your skin, not satisfied until every inch of your body was left raw, red, and sensitive, and the vibrator sending continuous waves of pleasure to all of your body.

Minnie’s fingers hovered over your abdomen repeatedly, and it took a while for you to realize she was writing small words against your skin. Doll, pretty, hole…

You moaned louder at the realization. Truth be told, you’d do anything to have more of the tingling sensation that was building up in your stomach. You needed more, or else you’d explode.

“More, please.” You asked, taking a deep breath to keep the tears from rolling down your watery eyes. Patience was something you lacked, especially when it came to getting yourself off. “Mommy. I n-need more. More i—inside.”

It was so easy for her to ignore you. Minnie paid you no mind, biting your waist as she reached up to one of your nipples and tugged harshly. Your small breasts allowed her to cup them entirely, as she did. Minnie gripped, smacked, and turned both your tits into stress balls as she made her way to suck on them. It was certain that they’d be sore and bruised in the morning, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

The only thing you could do was moan like a slut, desperate to get more of the pleasure Minnie was so good at offering. She laughed again, so mean and full of herself as she looked down on you. If you still had the smallest bit of pride, you’d be offended by the filthy names she whispered in your ear.

Instead, your moans were lustful and high-pitched.

“Greedy little thing, aren’t you?” Minnie shoved her long, thin fingers inside your mouth, careless as you gagged and tried not to throw up as she pushed them deep. They were gone as soon as they appeared, and you couldn’t help but whine at the lack of contact. “You want my fingers, doll? I did my nails today. It’s definitely going to hurt.”

Minnie’s canine teeth always appeared when her smile turned wicked. She showed you her fingers, making scissoring motions like you’d beg for her to do on your pussy. At your desperate nods, she brushed them past your slit as the vibrator’s level increased. “But you like that, don’t you? You like the pain.” There was nothing you could do but agree with her. You needed it, needed the pain mixed with pleasure to add to such a delicious feeling you were experiencing. “Like the slut you are. Don’t worry, love. I’m going to give you just what you need.”

Two of her fingers made their way inside your cunt, moving at a quick pace to match the vibrations. It was, too much, and it burned.

Such an amazing feeling, to have every inch of your body filled by Minnie, the sensation of an orgasm approaching; you can feel it everywhere.

You knew it was how Minnie liked it: messy, hard, and with a bit of pain in the mix. Yuqi had mentioned it as if daring you to back away and call off your deal, but you couldn’t help but think you deserved it.

For not doing well in your exam, you’d feel better with a bit of pain. And it was such a good mix, with the pleasure it came with. Minnie’s lovebites drew blood from your skin, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

All you wanted was more: more of her, more of the fingers that filled you up, more of the hand that tapped your neck, silently grabbing you with possessives.

“D-don’t stop, oh fuck. Please never stop please I need this need this so bad I’ll” You were too drunk in pleasure to warn her you were about to cum.

With a high cry, you squirted, arching your back as you gushed all over Minnie’s fingers.

Instead of being grossed out, or even mad you hadn’t warned her like you’d expected, Minnie kissed your neck, pulling you in for a reassuring kiss.

“You look even more beautiful when you cum.” Her praise sent another wave of pleasure into your sensitive body.

You were shaking, thighs moving uncontrollably in hopes of escaping the vibrator that is still pressed to your pulsating clit.

Instead of removing the stimulation entirely, Minnie turned her toy into a quiet hum. You clenched, closing your legs as you arched your hips.

“Take it off.” You cried, breathing heavily. It was too much, your body felt on fire and you were still shaking and breathing heavily.

Surprisingly, Minnie listened to your plead. She pulled it away, forcing your legs open as she resumed her fingers’ movements into a gentle caress on your inner thighs.

“Can’t my doll give me one more?” She asked, kissing and running her teeth through your jawline. Your mind was still fuzzy, hazy from the strong orgasm she’d just given you, and tone was the same one she used to get everything she wanted. Sweet, gentle, and patient. “I’d give everything to see you do that one more time. Fuck, I’m so wet. You were so good for me…”

There was no way out of her trap.

All it took was a nod from you and Minnie was all over your body again. The dress you were in was made for ruining— or perhaps it was Minnie who was too aggressive, too fond of ripping stuff. She quickly got rid of the rest of your clothes, gripping your naked body with a content smile on her face.

“My perfect doll.” She murmured. “Our night is just starting.”

Somehow, you couldn’t wait for her to ruin you even more. You were her doll, after all.

—

“I told you! We always knew you’d nail it!” Chaewon bumped into you, laughing playfully as you stared at your final exam sheet. It had a 100% marked in red, along with a Congratulations :) Good Job you were almost certain that wasn’t written by your professor. “Now, summer break!”

As always, Yunjin's support came in a calmer, soothing way. She smiled just as brightly, moving your shoulders excitingly. “You did, Y/n! Congratulations!”

“Thanks, girls.” You told them smiling shyly as you supressed a shiver. There was an uncomfortable feeling crippling your skin, and you couldn't help but feel like you were being watched. After making sure no one was paying you or your friends any attention, you sighed. “I worked really hard for it.”

The three of you prepared to leave, trying to make your way among the hectic, noisy crowd of students eager to leave university after a full day of classes. You were so engulfed in your friend’s frenzy celebrations you failed to notice an attentive pair of eyes, following your every move through the open area.

Minnie stood idly against the glass floors a few floors above, waiting for you to get past the entryway before returning to her friends, at the cafeteria.

#s.writes #sol.writes #sol’s works #gidle smut #minnie smut #gidle minnie smut #minnie x reader #gidle x reader #gidle x y/n #gidle imagines

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lightlycareless · 2 days ago

Note

Naoya as our bully ?🤭

If you can, can you write something about it with dubcon and all those things

( feel free to ignore if you don’t like it ❤️)

Hello!!

Heheheh bully naoya is most likely to happen if I were to be realistic; however, I do not think it'll be as sweet as we would've liked—but that's ok, it's good to explore other things :)))

warnings: non-con; it's not explicit but it is implied so proceed with caution. minors DNI. I know you asked for dub-con but wow I just let my imagination go I am sorry I still hope you like it though 🥹 also, naoya is a prick. but that's expected. minimal proofreading, excuse the weirdness.

Happy reading!!

Naoya being your bully is, hands down, the worst thing that could’ve happened to you.

Or more likely the precursor of the most horrific thing you’d ever suffer.

Your expectations for Jujutsu High were big—and for good reason, for everyone around you made sure you’d always look to your first day at school as the biggest, most important thing to happen in your life and career. You were to obtain the first glimpse of this amazing society you were part of, how could you not be thrilled?

But perhaps what enthralled you the most was the possibility of meeting the love of your life, after all, you were a hopeless romantic at heart.

Sure, it was somewhat of a selfish, if not baseless goal when compared to your duty… but there was no harm in dreaming, right?

And as if God had willed it, you’d soon catch the attention of someone in particular not so long after your arrival.

Unfortunately, not the type you desire.

The other thing you’d quickly come to learn about as days went by were the rumors and gossip surrounding your fellow classmates; just about the usual information you’d need to survive—who’s the popular one, who to go to when struggling with schoolwork—but primarily, who to avoid.

Naoya, the heir of the Zen’in, as on top of that list, though you were already aware of such cautions since his reputation… precedes him. Thus, it didn’t make it hard for you to simply walk the other way whenever stumbling in his path.

Not that it was any difficult, since he always seemed to be entertained by other things, other girls. And since you never considered yourself comparable to them, it was safe to say that you remained under the radar.

Until the day you didn’t.

Your efforts thrown out the window when accidentally bumping into him, a seemingly innocent act that transpired in the hallways, when you were in a rush, anxious to arrive to your next class on time that you barely had taken a sip of your drink—the weapon that perpetrated your transgression, soiling his pristine uniform.

To you, the beginning of your nightmare.

To Naoya, the moment he was waiting for.

“I’m so sorry, I—I didn’t mean to do that!” you fret, hands trembling as you frantically looked for a way to clean up your mistake. “I’m so so so sorry, please, let me pay for the cleaning service, or I can—I think I can even get you another one—”

“Do you know the level of stupidity you’ve committed?!” Naoya would belittle, cornering you into feeling worse than you already were.

“I—I didn’t mean to.” You cry, shaking your head. Seems that the rumors were true regarding his personality were true after all, if not worse. “It’s just that I—I was in a rush, and you came out of no—”

“Ah, so now you’re blaming me? Is that it?”

“No—No, it was an accident! I really didn’t mean it, I swear!”

“Then you better show me how regretful you really are if you don’t want me to take this to the higher ups.” He threatens, and while a part of you doubts this incident is worth their attention…

His patience is not something you want to test, nor the limits of his wrath.

And so, your servitude begins.

First, he has you fixing the immediate cause of your despair, which seems you could never achieve thanks to Naoya’s impossible standards. You either missed a spot, didn’t use the cleaner he ordered you to (they always change) or it wasn’t as nice as it was before. The excuses go on and on, such as your debt to him, and all you could do was comply.

Of course, Naoya didn’t really care much about the uniform. In fact, he got one as soon as the other was spoiled, but what reason did he have to ignore the adorable way you fretted to fix your mistakes? Always eager to please him, it was the kind of entertainment he could not miss!

After growing bored of the endless back and forth relating to his uniform, he decides to move you onto doing his schoolwork, the boring, theory side of jujutsu nobody could care less about, to compensate in some way.

Which, once again, never fits his criteria. He just had to find something wrong, a small slip-up for him to nitpick and embarrass you.

A somewhat hard endeavor given how good you were at doing these things, Naoya that much could admit. But, well, he always preferred the teary look in your eyes when ripping apart the work you presented that day, even if it meant he’d end up doing it later himself.

“I was only—I was only doing my best—” you silently whimper, picking up the pieces of your efforts from the floor.

“Your best isn’t good enough.” Naoya coldly declares, and though your heart is sharply pierced by his crude, cold words, enough purpose to finally take a stand and leave—

You still don’t find it in yourself to stray away from him.

Because at the slightest hesitation, Naoya always found a way to pull you back in. Remind you of your mistakes and how far you really are from redeeming yourself.

Perhaps he knew of those deep, hurtful insecurities you’ve carried along since you were a child; those that made you doubt your aptitudes, if you were worthy of being a sorcerer, your family’s relative…

It would’ve been easier if you simply remained as an errand girl. The type of person to fetch him something to drink, or snack on… instead of dwelling on the old wounds of your upbringing that only worsened with his targeted frustrations—

His so called “jokes.”

Naoya’s approach didn’t take long to escalate into denigrating, personal acts against you, from cruel exchanges between his friends, pointing out your supposed flaws both physically and personality-wise, to pulling your hair whenever passing by, sneering at the stupid bow you decided to decorate your hair with—how childish it made you look—to lifting your skirt just to see what a prude girl like you could wear.

“Not that anyone is dying to know, but I thought I’d do you the favor of knowing what it feels to be desired for once in your life.”

Amongst other nasty things that just made you beg for the earth to swallow you whole.

You didn’t know what hurt the most. That there was a group willing to mock you, enough to do so whenever he wasn’t around… or that Naoya didn’t have the decency to ask them to stop.

After all you’ve done for him, that was the least he could do.

Whatever business you had with him solely pertained to the two, there was no need to bring others along, less to incite him to do that…

But expecting such was too much, and so, you simply did your best to ignore him and move on with your life while anxiously waiting for whatever humiliating task you’d be graced with soon. Praying that one day, he’ll be merciful, or perhaps forgetful enough, to set you free.

…

Unless you weren’t to deliver anymore.

Unless you were to simply… disappear.

Just now show up after class to hand Naoya all his assignments, like always. Making him wait for a few more minutes before accordingly preparing himself to scold you in the nastiest way he could imagine when you finally arrived—but you never did.

At the peak of his anger, he decides to hunt you down instead and directly confront you. Figure out how your small, stupid brain convinced you to betray him, and subsequently make you regret it.

Which there were too many ways to do so, really. But as long as you suffered, as long you experienced a fraction of his shame, he was indifferent to the methods.

But of all the things he expected to find when facing you, he never once considered the sparks of your rebellion starting by an outside influence.

A fellow student you were walking annoyingly close to, revealing his efforts of isolating as futile; of filling your mind with nothing but his presence easily replaceable by a classmate of his. That stuck-up blonde-haired guy that everyone seemed obsessed about just because he was a foreigner.

And now, you too.

He should’ve known that your gullible mind would be attracted to someone like that. It was natural that you’d do so.

Perhaps what he didn’t expect was for Nanami to grow interested in you; surely, there were far better options to set his eyes on than someone as mundane and stupid like you.

Far more intriguing to find enjoyment in, as seen in the warm smile he gives you.

His perception of Nanami undoubtedly crumbled given this advancement; but if that was the only thing that bothered him, then why is there a burning, nauseating sensation settling in the pits of his stomach? Far beyond anger at your defilement, or even disappointment, but instead something akin to jealousy?

Protecting what was his, something that he never intended to share?

Naoya would entertain his feelings for a few moments, even come to consider it wasn’t worth his time to get so worked up for someone all his friends (and himself) ultimately found replaceable.

But he stops believing such things the moment his blood runs cold upon witnessing the act that fueled his definite wrath once and for all:

You, shyly leaning towards Nanami and kissing him.

What you had with him was more than a simple friendship, that much was obvious now. Far more intimate that he would’ve liked to imagine—

And far more infuriating as well.

Is this how you repay him? After all he’s done for you, acting like a whore was the best way to show your appreciation for him, after he’s given you a purpose in life? Saved you from becoming the useless, weak sorcerer you were fated to be?

…Perhaps you do need a reminder of who you belonged to.

“What are you—what are you doing in my dorm?!” You cried the moment Naoya barged into your room, the perfect location for him to corner you; keep you away from the intruding eyes of your friends, and so-called boyfriend, and finally confront you. “You can’t be here—get out!”

“Drop the act, this rebellious façade does not fit you.” He scowls; you frown. It was evident you were always nervous whenever he was around… but today, there was something different about your trembling voice. About your hesitating movements.

It was if you were pushing yourself to remain through all your fears and put an end to his tyranny or at least die trying.

That shy, people-pleasing girl was long gone—Undoubtedly, the work of someone whose mere remembrance only made his blood boil.

“I—I don’t care what you think, Naoya, you cannot be in my room!” you cry back. “Get out or I’ll—”

“You’ll what? Call your boyfriend?” You blink; he lets out a mocking chuckle. “Think I wouldn’t notice? You’re awful at keeping secrets, you know?”

“I wasn’t—I wasn’t keeping a secret.” You continue. “I just—I just didn’t care anymore about you!”

“Excuse me?” he responds, offended. “Did you just—"

“Shut up! For once, just shut up!”

Naoya flinches, taken aback by your sudden outburst, as if it had come out of nowhere; and not the exhaustion of his mistreatment, his constant disrespect towards your persona and all your acts.

Had it been the you from before, you wouldn’t have even dared.

Yet, just as you confessed, you simply stopped caring about him. What he had to say or what he thought—if he were to lash out at you or dump you with more work.

And all thanks to Nanami’s company; his affection. A supporting figure that reminded you of your strength, of your value and importance. Of how you were still deserving of being cherished and respected, without having to go through these endless ordeals to prove your worth. Those worthy to keep around wouldn’t make you go through that, anyways.

But most importantly, he showed you the power you had over your own life. How you were capable of putting a stop to the tyranny that pushed you to this bottomless ocean of self-doubt, and leave all your pain behind.

“You’re the most despicable, disgusting, horrible man I ever had the disgrace of meeting in my life!” you begin, letting out all your bottled-up anger through tears and yells. A cathartic occurrence that your heart so desperately needed. “You’re—You’re a monster, I don’t know how I tolerated you for too long!

But I won’t allow it anymore, because—I—I have Kento by my side and he’s—he’s showed me all these wonderful things I’ve been completely unaware of thanks to you!

He taught me to be strong, to be—to be fearless. To appreciate what little I have and cherish my loved ones!

To—to be honest with myself, and to—and to never let anyone else hurt me ever again!!

So today—today I denounce you! Whatever agreement we had, whatever it is that I was supposed to make up to you, it’s done! I refuse to keep being your slave, the center of your mockery. All I’ve ever did was try to please you but it’s obvious I will never commit to that, and you—you never had intentions of letting me go; if it were up to you, I’d simply remain miserable all of my life as long as you remained happy!

But… but that is finally over. It’s done. I won’t allow you to ever hurt me, to ever treat me like I was beneath you!

And I really do hope you get all you deserve. All that someone as despicable as you could ever hope to get!

I—I hope I never get to see you again, I hope that after today, you’ll walk out of my life once and for all!

Because I really, with all my existance—

hate you!”

The last thing Naoya remembers from that point forward was feeling irritated by your obnoxious rambles drowning in with burning rage. An overwhelming need to make you eat your words and apologize; so grave that it blinded his sights, his memory.

There were only brief moments here and there that managed to make way to his thoughts, such as the stinging pain on his palm after striking you across the face following your words, continued by the deep betrayal you’ve inflicted in his heart as he pulled you by the hair to force you to listen and reflect on the stupidities you’ve just spewed upon him.

“Did you really think I would allow you to disrespect me without suffering the consequences?! Did you really think I’d sit by as you preached things you don’t even know what they mean?! All because a silly, stupid man managed to convince you were deserving of them???” Naoya berates, bringing your face close to his and imposing you to see him—the anger you caused, the gravity of your actions.

“Na—Naoya—!” you squirm, trying to break free from his grasp, but he only holds you tighter in place; painfully subdues you to become responsible for your life for once.

“You’re nothing but a stupid, foolish whore that got placed in a pedestal simply because someone wanted to fuck you.” He chuckles. “You think Nanami likes you? Really?? Don’t you think that if he did, he wouldn’t have pushed you to do something stupid like this?? He ought to know better, but I suppose that for a stupid girl like you, you’d do anything to obtain a man’s favor, even if it means betraying those who care for you.

Fortunately, I know exactly what to do in situations like this, how to deal with people like you.

I’ll show you that all I’ve done came from a place of compassion, of pity.

That I’m the only person that would ever dare to do so.”

It’s clear what he intends to do once he throws you onto the bed, once he begins to strip you of your garments and ignore your pleads of mercy. A possibility of reconsideration—how you didn’t mean to offend him as gravely as you did.

“But that is long gone, and now, I will make you see the error in your decisions. I will make you regret ever crossing me.”

And overall—

“I will make you see I’m the only man you need.”

Naoya’s defilement does not stop no matter how much you beg him to.

No matter how much you weep, you beg for his forgiveness, profess your regret and promise to do better… he was simply uninterested in what you had to say.

Instead, he succumbed deeper into his emotions, allowing them to control his rationale and do all kinds of horrifying, disgusting things to your body with the sole purpose of branding you with his anger, with your transgressionsso that you’d never forget.

You’d never dare to insult him the way you fervently did.

You’d never dare look onto another man, when he was there to be the object of your sole veneration.

Of your affection.

To keep you solely focused on him, and eventually, get you where you deserved to be.

It’s a shame things had to end this way, he manages to muse as he continued to desecrate you. But some people could only understand the hard way, the stubborn, stupid, naïve way. You just had the misfortune of falling into that category.

And he did just that. He drilled that notion onto you, both mentally and physically, what you should’ve known the moment you crossed paths with his.

The moment he set eyes on you, you were his, and it was always meant to be that way.

“St—Stop it, Naoya…” you gasped, tears in your eyes as you tried for the nth time that moment to fight him off. But too weak after his aggressions, all you could do is weep. “Please—please… I’m sorry, I’m sorry—”

Naoya only stops once he believes your lesson to be learned. From there, he barely gives you a second glance as he composes himself and leaves your dorm; far too indifferent to oversee your wellbeing or if someone were to find you in a broken position.

He simply goes on with his day as if it were any other, occasionally reflecting on your absence once realizing you went missing for the rest of the day, but outside of that, nothing.

Because ultimately, that is what you deserve.

Nothing.

Naoya allows you to keep your distance for a few days more after… his act. Whether because he didn’t feel in the mood to see your face, still resentful of your words, or because he was busy… It didn’t matter much; for he kept on with his life as if nothing had transpired. Treating you like an occasional remembrance, the junior he’d grown somewhat close to but eventually outgrown when another came along.

Even when his friends pestered him to find out about your situation, Naoya dismissed them. He had far bigger matters to attend to, after all, silly little Y/N was just another fish in the ocean; if they were so desperate to know, why don’t they find out themselves?

However, he wouldn’t be able to continue putting on this act once his classmate, your disgraceful boyfriend, began to mope. Becoming even moodier the longer you went on without attending school, even enough to go around asking if anyone had seen you after that fateful day—no one had.

Except your friends, the only few that somehow were able to place the pieces together and know what occurred to you; or at least, make a theory out of their findings—which eventually led for the whole school to gossip about.

“Did you hear?” Someone would begin. “Y/N has dropped out of school.”

“What? Dropped out? When??”

“Not too long ago, it seems. Just a few days ago—”

“What makes you think that? She could just be sick…”

“Come on, why do you think her siblings are all moody nowadays? If anything, the question we should be asking is why? Why would someone drop out in the middle of the school year? It’s not like she a bad student…”

“Are you sure she didn’t just transfer?”

“No, she didn’t. I saw the records, she dropped out. But you’d never know why… and honestly, I didn’t think she’d have it in her.”

“Have what in her?”

“More like who.”

“What—what are you implying?”

“Oh, and she seemed so innocent too…”

“No—no way you’re…”

“Yeah, I am. Y/N’s—”

Pregnant.

In other words, a child grows inside you right now.

And Naoya knew just who the father was.

What he didn’t know is why the idea seemed to thrill him enough to seek you out. Why he didn’t just… force you to take that damned pill, as he’d done countless times before, and move on.

Instead, he decided to travel all the way down to your home and demand the presence of your family; of your distraught parents he could see were disappointed in their seemingly promiscuous daughter, yet respectful enough to receive him. Perhaps because deep within, they knew he was related to your situation.

Or because it was one of the many perks of being the heir of the Zen’in.

Like being given the liberty to do as he pleases, painting a story that greatly deviated from the truth: making them believe you and him had a relationship, but given the nature of his position, he couldn’t divulge it. His family were… traditional, in some sense. They would never allow their heir to approach women in casual settings.

But love proved far stronger, and such demonstration now came in the small life nurtured inside your womb.

The same one he sweetly promised to take care of—as long as you married him.

Everyone had a price, and it seems your parents’ was prestige and honor; things easily obtainable through his titles, but at the sake of your happiness.

“What—what is he doing here—” you stammer, frightened to see the face that troubles your thoughts, your dreams, in the last haven you got. “How did he get in here?!”

“Oh, Y/N, this is wonderful!” your mother would cry, rushing to your side to take you into her arms. “All of our prayers were heard!”

“What—what are you talking about?!”

“You no longer need to worry about your future now, pumpkin. Naoya here will take care of everything!” Your father continues.

“Wh—what?” you breathed, sight blurry and head dizzy at the sound of their delirious words.

“He told us of your situation.” Your mother adds. “About your relationship with him.”

But not the true one, is it? For their reactions didn’t correlate to the horrors you were haunted by.

“What—what did he say??”

“Our truth, Y/N.” Naoya responds. “About our love, and my commitment to provide for you.”

Naoya painted himself as your savior, as the sinner than changed for the sake of love and was now willing to do everything necessary to give you, the mother of his heir, a suitable life.

Through a divine vow.

A life sentence.

You wept. You wailed, screamed, begged your parents to set you free from the hands of your tormentor. Exclaimed that his acts were far from a lover, but rather, an abuser. A demon—all that he had done was with your suffering in mind, not the other way around!

But even if they were to decline his offer, your family were far too eager to cling at the opportunity of returning to relevancy. Of getting into the Zen’in’s good graces and bask in the prestige they once lost to time.

Your eager nature could’ve not come sooner, what they once condemned, now they welcomed as a blessing.

And such, amidst poisonous congratulations, your new life was set: permanently bound to the man that had broken your spirit, defiled your body, and now, claimed your future.

No one would come to believe the atrocities he had inflicted upon, no matter how much you tried to convince others—it was simply easier to assume that he acted such way because… well, women were difficult, were they not? And you weren’t exactly the prime example of a proper woman either. If anything, you should be glad that you’ve managed to catch a man as devoted as him; any other would’ve bailed out on you.

But Naoya didn’t; he may not have the greatest reputation, nor the best temperament, but he still stepped up—and if that’s not worthy of admiration, then shame on you. Many women would’ve killed to have a partner like that, so, it’s best if you comply and stop being ungrateful.

Do what you’re supposed to do as his future wife—this is the life women of your status were expected to do anyways, don’t act like you didn’t know what you were getting into.

“I—I at least want to finish school.” You sadly lament, the last of your excuses before your fate was doubled down.

“You won’t need that once we’re married.” Naoya interjects. “All you’d need to learn is how to be a good wife and mother for our family, you’ll hardly have time for sorcery so just forget about it.”

Just like he always imagined the moment he laid eyes on you, only that he never professed it out loud.

It’s true: since the time he was aware of your existence, there was something that mesmerized him.

He just didn’t know what precisely; it could’ve been your beauty, your untainted image, pure in all imaginable ways—he couldn’t let anyone else get to you first.

And after all that happened, he can safely assume that this was his destiny. It was God putting you on his path while Naoya did the rest.

If anything, he laments it took this unwanted pregnancy to realize him so. Naoya would’ve liked something a bit more… traditional, but he supposes this will work too. Can’t complain much if he got what he wanted in the end: to claim you.

All that he’s left to worry about is drilling that defiance out of you. Something a baby ought to do the trick.

But if not, Naoya doesn’t worry much. After all, he’ll have all the time in the world to do so.

Naoya would be the type to find porn actresses that look like you and then show you a video or something, ask you if you'd make the same sounds/faces and such. Just had to get it out there.

Also, did I not tell y'all that in all universes naoya and y/n end up together? For better or for worse? lmao i'm sorry i'm just delusional rn. it's been a stressful week if i am being honest but coming back to these asks, characters, all of you, makes me happy :')

Well, I don't really have much to say, except that I hope it was to your liking 🥹💖💖💖

Now, take care and hope to see you soon. 💖💖💖💖

#ask #naoya zenin #naoya zen'in #naoya x reader #naoya zenin x reader #naoya zenin x you #jjk naoya #naoya zen'in x reader #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk x you #prompt series: jujutsu kaisen #jjk angst

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