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mv1simp · 12 hours ago

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Often ♥️

Mafia!Max Verstappen x Reader

she asked me if I do this everyday, I said often (asked her how many times she rode the wave, not so often)

You’re a hard working, intelligent medical student - at the top of her class. Desperate to pay off your debts, you end up bartending in Monaco’s most exclusive nightclub….and catch the eye of the mafia boss who runs half the city, Max Verstappen. And now that he’s found you, he’s never letting you go.

Content includes: 18+ MDNI, smut, size kink, dom/sub themes, dark mafia!max, innocent student! reader tryna pay her bills, sugar daddy vibes

It had truly meant to be a one time thing. You’d been strapped for cash, as per usual - stretching yourself thin with your overpriced rent in your tiny one bedroom apartment in a dodgy area, with your utility bills, your parent’s monthly mortgage payments. And of course, the costliest expense of all was your goddamn medical degree. You were in your final year, so close to the end that you could almost taste it.

Maybe that’s what made you say yes to one of the other tutors you work with at your university tutoring job, when she sees you at your second job later than evening tidying up at a local clinic, and then your third the next morning where you hand her a fresh iced coffee you’ve brewed. You know, she says in a hushed tone, leaning in rather conspiratorially. You’re going to work yourself to the bone, with three jobs and putting yourself through med school?

You wave her off with a practised cheerful smile, used to hiding your tiredness from your peers who all thought of you as a model student. But when she persisted, texting you the details of her mysterious cousin who worked at some bar downtown and earned one thousands dollars in a single night…you couldn’t help but being intrigued. You were cautious about it, of course, asking to meet the cousin - Layla - at the coffee shop you worked at. And when she told you about the VIP club, JimmyZ, that she worked at - nothing like those sleazy stripclubs downtown, she hastily reassured, seeing the nervous look on your face. No, JimmyZ was an exclusive club, only for the rich and elite who enjoyed throwing stacks of cash for bags of cocaine and exotic dancers. That’s what Layla called herself, but you still privately think it’s a glorified term for a stripper, as you watch her on stage from your corner in the bar with mixed feelings of awe at how sexy she looks, and discomfort from the sleazy gazes on her.

You’d somehow been talked into helping bartend for a night, Layla having mentioned that you were the perfect girl for the kind of men who came to JimmyZ. At your insulted expression, she giggled, saying that she was trying to saw you had an angelic, natural beauty about you, exactly the kind of authenticity the clientele liked to see instead of the more artificial look found at cheaper clubs. You looked at her skeptically, but still ended up lured in to try and make your rent that month. And after your first night, where you noted impressive amounts of security protecting the gorgeous dancing girls on stage, you felt yourself seduced by the offer of a single night at JimmyZ making up for an entire weeks of your previous job’s earning.

So before you knew it, you’d been working steadily for a couple of months now, finding yourself at a familiar ease behind the bar as you expertly poured drinks and humming the sensual music. You loved the job, with its high pay meaning you had time to focus on your studies again, and last month you’d even topped your class in one of your exams! Of course, it came with its risks - you worked well through the middle of busy weekend nights, many curious and lustful gazes on you from men who enjoyed the skimpy bartender uniform you had to wear. A tight, low cut white button up shirt that showed off your cleavage, and a miniskirt that came dangerously close to flashing someone when you bent over, paired with heeled knee high boots. It was certainly not the type of usual thing you wore, with your conservative full sleeve tops and flattering jeans with scuffed converse that you recycled constantly given your tight budget. But after some adjusting of your long curls hiding your cleavage and avoiding any eye contact skittishly with any man who looked at you too closely, you found yourself falling into an easy rhythm at work.

Until one evening, a Friday night before some big racing event in the city, meaning the club was even more packed that usual with clubgoers overflowing out the entrance and bass thumping down the street. Your boss had found you as you checked in for your late night shift, rapidly saying something about how the owner was visiting tonight and there weren't enough girls for the show, could you help out just this once-

Despite your adamant protests and squeaks that you absolutely could not, would not go on stage, you find yourself shoved into the backstage room to get ready, or risk losing your job permanently, your boss says meanly before storming off. Your lip trembles in anxiety, at the thought of someone recognising you tonight and then seeing you working as a doctor after your graduated. You'd lose your reputation before you could even start your career. You feel lost in the bright makeup room, surrounded by stunning, slim women who had their hair blown own perfectly and makeup done to perfection. You never imagined that you'd have to be up on stage with the beautiful dancers, who you looked so plain standing next too. A few toss you sympathetic looks but are too busy getting ready themselves to help you - until Layla enters and catches sight of your shaking form. She scowls when you tearfully tell her what the boss had said, but gives you a firm pep talk as she quickly helps you get ready. You've barely used any of the dozens of makeup products she has open on the counter, never having had any money to spend on nice clothes or jewellery to spoil yourself with.

But you feel yourself start to settle as she hands you a shot of tequila, then another for confidence, as she guides you through how to navigate the stage, how it was all about faking it till you make it!

You nod determinedly as she coaches you, before quickly getting change into a glittery strappy piece of fabric she hands you, with strappy heels to match. It takes you a few minutes to adjust to the height, but you find yourself being able to walk comfortably in them. When you come out from the side room to show Layla, the rest of the girls in the room stop in their tracks and look at you with renewed interest, yelling out whoops of encouragements about how hot you looked, girl! You flush with the praise, eyeing yourself in the mirror every few minutes as this pretty girl you didn't recognise stared at you. With lush, long curls styled messily, and wide, doe eyed eyes framed in smoky liner and glittery eyeshadow, and full, pouty glossed lips. And your body, which you'd been feeling so insecure about compared to the other dancers, looked undeniably sexy in a shimmery gold minidress that was so short it showed off the swell of your thick ass and chubby thighs invitingly. See, Layla says rather smugly as she comes up behind you. I told you, face of an angel with a body of a dancer. The audience is going to go feral for you.

And she was right, when an hour later and another practise session later, this time with the aid of the other dancers as they critiqued your form, you find yourself on one of the three stages the club had throughout its two levels. If there’s one thing you pride yourself on, it’s being a quick learner. You relax, letting yourself get lost in the music as a sensual song by The Weeknd croons over the speakers. The other girls had told you that dancing could also be fun, empowering, and make you feel in control - and you know understood what they meant as you sway your body enticingly on the stage, running your hands across your tits where your cleavage shows through the low neckline. At least in a club like JimmyZ, which had the reputation of luxury and class to uphold, the dancers wore skimpy outfits but never got fully naked like at a proper stripclub. You made full use of this small mercy, giving teasing flashes of your cleavage and ass but never actually taking your tiny glittery dress off. You could feel dozens of eyes fixed on every movement you made, every toss of your curls, every breathy sigh and bounce of your ass as you let yourself get lost in the beat.

But there's one set of piercing blue eyes that you keep finding your wide eyes returning to curiously. A man you’ve never seen before is seated in one of the VIP lounges a level above and directly in front of your elevated stage. He’s tall and muscular, with messy blonde hair and the most gorgeous eyes you’ve ever seen. And to pull it off, he’s lounging comfortable on a leather sofa, well dressed in a fitted white shirt and jeans, his intense gaze roaming over your dancing body while everyone around him was standing up and hollering towards the dancers on the stage.

He looked like a lion amongst the pack of sheep, and you couldn’t help but bat your lashes in his direction just a bit more as a spark of attraction flutters within you. You've never felt so desirable in your life, and the rush it gives you is addictive. Your show is over before you know it, with enthused yells and demands for an Encore! from the frenzied crowd around your stage as clubgoers migrated to see your show instead of the two others. You giggle coyly, finding this new, confident side of yourself so much more fun than your usual run down, shy one. Stacks of paper notes have been tossed up on your stage and the bouncers dutifully collect it up to bring to you backstage. You blow a kiss into the air for the crowd, but your eyes don’t leave the gorgeous mystery man’s when you do so.

Afterwards, the other girls are laughing and excitedly hugging you backstage, oohing over the stacks of money you’d made and saying you needed to start dancing as a regular at the club, you’d instantly become a favourite! As you giggled their encouragement off, the mood suddenly soured when your boss strode in and said there’s been a request for a private show.

This was the darker, naughtier side of JimmyZ - only offered to the filthy rich VIP clients who could afford the outrageous hourly rate for the prized, beautiful dancers at the club. You’d walked past the closed VIP lounge doors before, your face turning red from the excited moans of male and female pleasure and lewd sounds. It was highly secret, of course, so you’d never known to much about what it fully involved. But you’d have to get to know it tonight, when your boss's finger points past everyone to land on you, to say the request is for our latest dancer, who’s been hiding how much of a natural she is!

Your quickly shake your head, saying you weren’t comfortable with anything more - but your boss says you might want to hear how much he's offering to pay, first. I turned him down, too, saying you weren't one of the regular dancers...but he's very certain he can make it worth your while. When you hear the figure being offered, specifically just for you, your jaw drops. It's enough to pay your shitty rent for two whole months.

You still feel uneasy, because dancing was one thing but to go to a private room was another, and you weren't sure how you felt about using your body for money. In the end, you find yourself curious to go, to get that addictive feeling of desirability and swayed by the security of the income. You’re fully in control, Layla reassures, there’s security in the room the whole time if the client gets touchy. You just have to undress a bit, down to your underwear and give them a show, maybe a lap dance or two. Nothing more than a quick handjob at most, she insists. Then, seeing your face go red as you stammer in response, she pauses to ask that you had done that before, right?

You nod your head quickly, saying yes, of course, I'm 23! You’re too embarrassed to tell her that even though you’re in college, you’ve barely had any sexual experiences and have never had a boyfriend. There was never any time with all the jobs you worked and your full time degree. You’ve had quick, forgettable and sloppy drunk hookups, with uncomfortable fingering that didn’t make you cum or half hearted handjobs at frat parties. You’ve never had sex before, but you know there’s no point freaking out about that now when you’re commited to getting paid tonight. Besides, it was just a quick lap dance probably on some middle aged divorced guy, right?

You can do this, you tell yourself internally, this was nothing compared to dancing in front of hundred of strangers. Maybe this month you’d finally be able to buy some nice dresses and heels to treat yourself with. It can feel good, too Layla had added as she helped you touch up your lip gloss. For your own pleasure, I mean. If you let it, she says with a wink. Remember, you're in control!

When you finally enter the VIP room that night, you're shocked at the man who awaits you. Because it was certainly no sleazy middle aged man. The gorgeous blue eyed blonde from earlier looks up from his conversation at you, his lips quirking up as he sees your golden minidress sparkle in the dim light. You’re too caught off guard to move, but once he dismissed the other men he was talking to with a tilt of his hand, he beckons you over. With a backwards glance to make sure the bouncer stands guard at the door, you take a seat on the comfortable sofa next to him.

It turns out the mystery man isn't just handsome, but friendly, and funny too, with an infectious laugh that makes your heart race. He introduced himself as Max, in a delicious low Dutch accent, and offers you a drink. You politely decline, not wanting to be too disinhibited, but he pours you a glass of expensive whiskey to match the one in his hand anyways. When he asks you for your name, you give him a fake one - but his eyes darken as he tells you he doesn’t think you’re telling him the truth. I’ll call you whatever I want, then, he hums. Schatje seems very fitting for an angel like you. I hope you don’t mind that I asked to see you personally tonight. But the way you danced, I was completely entranced. And then when I saw your pretty face, these big doe eyes...well, I knew I had to meet you. No matter the cost.

You flush under the compliment from such an attractive man, now comfortably sipping on your whiskey. You're the one who's meant to be pleasing him, but it seemed he was more focused on your pleasure. He relaxes you into a surprisingly easy conversation, making you laugh with funny stories about his two house cats. How cute, you say wistfully when he shows you his saved album on his phone. You miss the way his icy eyes hungrily glance down your tempting neckline as you admire the photos, taking advantage of the angle. The tension eases from your stiff form and soon you find yourself leaning in closer to the tall, muscular blonde.

You’re a very charming talker, Max, you say coyly, your newfound confidence emerging as your attraction for him grows. I think you’ve earned your reward. He smirks as you easily climb onto his broad lap, gasping slightly from the feeling of his strong, muscular thighs beneath your soft ones. Soon you’re performing your little routine, giggling and tossing your hair, running wandering hands over yourself, squeezing your juicy tits so they popped in your small hands and make Max’s gaze narrow with desire. Layla had been right. You did feel in complete control, and your pussy throbbed in interest at the gorgeous man whose lap you sat on.

He leans back to appreciate the view and you feel lust cloud your senses from the addicting feeling of those heated blue eyes on you, mixing with the heady feeling from the expensive whiskey he’d offered. And then his fingers are skimming your waist, sending electric sparks shooting from the lightest of touches. You’re not supposed to touch, Max you say with a teasing voice, your playful smile giving away how you really felt. When you untie your dress straps, letting it fall down your waist to show him your chest, barely covered in a see through lacy bra, he lets out a low groan. C’mon, schat, he murmurs huskily. I’m meant to see the prettiest tits in my life and not even kiss them?

You giggle again, running small hands down his shirt as you slowly unbutton him to reveal a muscular, broad chest. He smirks as he watches you bite your lip as your eyes wander all the way down to his blonde happy trail, where your curious fingers have now stopped. What’s the matter, baby, he teases a little twistedly, because he knows exactly what’s stopping you. Never done this before?

You flush, but shake your head adamantly and denying his claim. Of course I have, you say with a defiant look, the competitive nature rising up as you continue to unzip his jeans. He finds your determination so cute, how hard you’re trying to please him, but you give your innocence away with a sudden gasp when his erect cock jumps out of his boxers to rest against his lower abs. It’s so big, you say with a tinge of nerves in your voice at the sight of his drooling, angry red rip. He distracts you with soft kisses to your neck, your cheeks before pressing his lips gently to yours. You can’t resist him either, leaning back in to recapture him in a deeper kiss as you two begin sloppily making out. It’s starting to feel so good, the way his skilled tongue explores your willing mouth, that you eagerly nod when he murmurs he’ll show you how to make him feel good, yeah?

And when his large hand takes yours and presses it right in between his large, spread thighs, he captures your gasps with his lips. He guides your trembling hands over his huge cock, one hand encircling both your palms around him, whispering naughty things in your ear. There you go, sweetheart, right from the tip and then down to the base in a twist, just like that. When you get confident and cutely spit a small glob on his shaft to start pumping him more furiously, he praises you even more. Fuck, you’re a natural, just perfect for me.

You blush under the praise, and together you both watch his cock swell even more with your dedicated handjob. He can’t resist giving you a deep kiss again as he sees the concentrated expression on your face. Doing so good for me, babygirl, Max murmurs as he breaks away for a second, admiring your swollen lips and dazed eyes. Here, let me make you feel good too, hmm?

You squeal in shock as his lips latch right onto your already hard nipples. Ma-Max! No touching, remember! You try to remind him breathlessly. He swirls his tongue around your areolas, one hand still guiding you to jerk him off and his other expertly squeezing and massaging your heaving tits. You very quickly find yourself distracted from his rule break as he spoils your sensitive nipples with attention. So distracted that you stop your handjob, making him pull away again and you whine from the loss of his talented tongue. He resists smirking as you practically push your jiggling tits in his face, your doe eyes begging him for more. I didn’t say you could stop jerking me off, baby, he says in mock disapproval. If you’re not going to be a good girl then you’ll have to say sorry some other way.

You tilt your head in confusion at his statement, when his strong hand tangles into your pretty curls and gently but firmly pushes your head down. Your eyes widen as you realise what he’s asking of you, and you stammer and try to weakly protest. It’s not that you aren’t into this; if anything, Max is the first guy you’ve ever felt such instant chemistry with. No - it’s that this feels so fast, too much too quick for your inexperience and self consciousness. You haven’t even processed just how far he’s planning on taking this and that technically you were selling yourself at some nightclub for his money. Besides, wasn’t there meant to be a guard here to stop the clients going too far? But when you quickly turn your head to look, Max’s hand relaxing briefly to let you peer around, you find yourself only becoming more anxious.

Because there’s no one else in the room.

Where did he go, you say, confused. I don’t understand, I thought he has to keep watch-Schatje, Max murmurs smoothly into your ear. I’m a possessive man. Did you really think I was going to let anyone else get a glimpse of what’s underneath your pretty dress? You gasp, heartbeat now fluttering rapidly from the confession that he’d been so taken with you with one look he wanted you all to himself. You’re half terrified of how much power this man seems to have, and half dizzy with pleasure that he finds you so desirable that he wants to stake his claim. He takes his time working you up again, running hands that were more like a lion’s large paws over your curves while he whispers sweet nothings in your ear, asking if you were ready to be a good girl for him.

A thought plants in your head then, as you nod obediently, and he presses a kiss to your curls to lower your head into his lap again. That Max wasn’t the sweet, gorgeous guy next door type he looked to be. No, this was someone with serious power and money, who apparently controlled the ins and outs of the most luxurious nightclub in the city as if it was his own. And tonight, for whatever reason, he wanted you.

It was just one night, right? You let yourself relax and get lost in the unfamiliar pleasure as you reassure yourself.

This time, your glossy pink lips part easily as you leave curious kitten licks to his cockhead, taking in the salty taste of his precum. He immediately groaned, head tilting back against the sofa as he rasped at you to stop teasing.

You hum in response, sending vibrations through his shaft as you press wet kisses down it. You’re obediently following all the orders he gives to you as he strokes your hair almost gently, licking him up and down. When you finally take him into your mouth, he moans your name in approval, praising how good you were being. But you can barely take half of his length, already feeling your mouth stretch and struggling to breath. Let me take over, baby he says with a dark smirk, and within a second he’s lifted you up and deposited you on the floor, in between his spread legs. You’re trapped by muscular thighs as his grip tightens on you, and then he’s thrusting his hips right to the back of your throat. Fuck yes, there you go, just like that sweetheart, he encourages with a low groan, drowning out your high pitched whines with his jackhammering movements. Mmmh! Obscene, wet sounds of your mouth drooling all over him fills the air, as you choke on the largest cock you’d ever seen. You’re gripping onto him for dear life, your teary eyes making mascara run down your cheeks and only making him more turned on as he ruins your innocent, doe eyed look. And when he cums you don’t expect it, your mouth flooded with unfamiliar white cream that he covers your chubby, blushing cheeks and bouncing tits with as he pulls out mid release and makes a complete mess of your pretty makeup. Heavy pants fill the air as he comes down from his high, looking down at you with raw desire and approval. His thumb swipes his cum off your pouty lips and slides into your lips, smirking when you obediently suck on his finger. You wouldn’t have been able to tell it’s your first time, he teases.

After you clean yourself up in the private bathroom, too embarrassed to look at your positively debauched appearance in the mirror, you find Max signing a cheque that he folds in half that he discreetly leaves on the table. But before he leaves after apologising as he has business to attend to, bending down to your petite frame to give you a sweet kiss, he offers you a deal. To quit your job and be his private dancer, every night…and in turn he’d spoil you with whatever money or gifts your heart desired.

You decline, of course, telling him this was just a one time thing, you weren’t planning on dancing here ever again. He smirks, giving you a final appreciate once over, before declaring that was obvious, he wasn’t going to let another man see you dance like that again.

You don’t see him for a few weeks after that, and it’s almost as if that electric night had never happened at all. Things go back to normal and you resume your bartending job - although you notice that there is significantly more security hovering around your counter than before. But every night Max revisits you in your dreams, making you breathlessly moan from the memory of how good his tongue and hands felt on you, how they might feel inside you next time….you’d always wake up with damp panties.

And then one night everything changes, when a rowdy patron manages to get past the security guards and leer in your face. He remembers you from the dance show and when you try to move away he grabs onto your ass, telling you he wants another sexy performance, he demands with a pervy sneer, I know you secretly liked all the attention, like a slut.

The guards manage to get him off you but you’re shaken with how persistent the man had been. So shaken that you don’t realise the staff have pulled you into a side room until Max is in front of you, asking if you were okay with an intense gaze. He offers you his promise again, to provide for you and protect you - if you became his.

You’re annoyed with him, for just barging in and acting like you were some damsel. You hotly tell him that you're an independent girl, who wasn't going to let him have her in exchange for safety. I can take care of myself! He watched you walk off with a dark gaze, his blue eyes roaming your curves that he was desperate to get underneath him. And whatever Max Verstappen wanted, he always got.

The very next day chills run through your blood as the rowdy patron somehow turns up at your university campus. You quickly hide before he sees you, heart rate spiking as you realise he's found out who you are. Your pride melts away as you dial the number Max's men had put onto your phone despite your protests. Now, you're thankful that they did as a husky Dutch accent picks up. You're a mess on the call, crying and asking Max to please come and help-

I'm on my way, schatje. Go hide somewhere safe. After you hang up you realize you never told him where you were. But it doesn't matter, because the Dutch Lion is there within minutes, stepping out of a sleek black Aston Martin that looks like it costs more than all 5 years of your student debt. Your stalker doesn't stand a chance as he's pushed into a back alley easily by Max, who re-emerges a few moments later discreetly tucking what you're pretty sure is a handgun into his belt. You stare in stunned silence as he gestures to some men who have appeared to clean up whatever mess he left behind, before guiding you with a firm hand on your lower back into his luxurious car.

Still want to turn down what I can offer you, schatje? he murmurs lowly as he smoothly drives you home, his large hand resting on your thigh. And you realise that you don't, because for the first time in your life you don't have to fight tooth and nail to protect yourself. No - because Max had just proved he was willing to do that for you.

So you let yourself be worshipped, be cared for by him. And he knew how skittish you got, and started with baby steps - paying your phone bills, your groceries, and then your rent. Buying whatever handbag or necklace you would happen to briefly admire when walking past a shop, getting you a cute but outrageously expensive car so you stopped taking the train. And you can't lie about how good it feels to walk into class wearing diamond earrings and the Louboutin heels you'd always wanted, to have your mean classmates look at you in awe and envy.

And so when Max insisted that he couldn't let you stay at the dump you called a home any longer, that it was just unsafe for a sweet, precious thing like yourself - you barely resisted and moved into his spacious penthouse apartment. Truly, he gave you whatever you wanted, his toy that he spoils and lavishes however she likes - and at night, lets him climb into her bed to fuck however he wants. And oh, did he fuck you good. It became a habit for you to greet him after his late night meetings with a sweet kiss on the cheek and a gin on the rocks in your hand - which he would drink with you sitting on his lap, telling him animatedly about your day. And of course, he’d get to unwrap his present when he pulls off your silk nightie and widens his legs for you to kneel between them. Dressed in pretty pastel scraps of French lace you buy with his credit card, you’re dutifully slurping and kissing his thick, swollen cock and slapping it against your cheeks. You knew how much Max loved seeing his cum drip down your face and you’d make sure to wear extra eyeliner and lipgloss so he could enjoy the sight of you utterly ruined for him, stroking your mascara tear stained cheeks as you choke on his length. Such a fast learner, schatje Max chuckles at you, stroking your hair almost lovingly but the roughness of his thrusts anything but.

And most of all, you loved when Max would pick you up from class and casually announce that he was taking you away for the weekend. You’d been confused at first, stressed about the study time you were missing out on, but once you sit down in his private jet with you laptop and textbooks in hand you realise you’re truly going to be taken care of in every way. It’s impossible to resist the urge to give back the same to Max, to show him just how much affection you’ve started growing for him. So on those nights in some tropical island resort, with the breeze blowing in through open doors, you give him a free use pass. Whatever he wanted, however he wanted it - all weekend long. It’s to no surprise that you’re chained to the headboard within the hour, thighs tightly tied up around your waist so you’re spread open for him and he could see the wetness dripping through your lace thong. You’re whining, so embarrassed by how intently his heated gaze roams over your body that it’s a relief when he blindfolds you with his tie, and clips a collar around your neck with his initials gleaming from it. He teases you mercilessly, taking you right to the edge with his fingers or tongue but stopping just before you cum, until you’re screaming his name and begging him to fuck you already. And then he takes you for so many rounds that you’re crying for him to stop, it’s too much Maxie, you can’t cum a fourth time-

It’s safe to say you’ve grown into your place by Max’s side very well. You knew what others thought, from the jealous looks from your classmates when his Aston Martin rolls onto campus or the judgemental stares from other vacationers when you obediently sit in Max’s lap while he takes his business calls, dressed in a skimpy bikini and his collar that he absentmindedly traces before moving down to possessively curl his hand on your hip. But you couldn’t care less if they thought you were a trophy girlfriend or a sugar baby - because after all, he was the one wrapped around your pretty little finger, ready to wage a war if you so much as shed a tear.

And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

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cutehoons02 · 2 days ago

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Dark Seduction

*pairing: boxer spiderman-venom Jay x radio university Girl

*trope: roomates to enemies to lovers

*synopsis: What would happen if your roommate who doesn't like you told you that you're too curious and nosy about always talking about this vigilante with the nickname of Black Spiderman-Venom on university radio? Doing 2+2 with all the clues that Jay left you understood that he was the vigilante of the city but you discovered him in an unexpected way with the personality of Jay but also the mysterious and sneaky Venom

*tags: A lot of tension, they love to tease each other, Jay is the eggermente arrogant at the beginning of the story, possessing, protecting, body shaping in Spiderman-Venon, tentacles, unprotected sex (don’t horny ppl) masturbation (f.receives) kisses, sucking, touching, licking, curiosity, white lies.

6.1k (🕷️) (English is not my native language)

The University radio was your kingdom. From eight o'clock in the morning, your voice filled campus frequencies, informing and entertaining sleepless students with your brilliant spirit and sharp tongue.

"Good morning to all listeners! Here is your favorite student radio to speak to you, the voice of the University of Seoul, and today we talk about him... the mysterious vigilante who is making the news crazy. He wears a black suit, moves in the shadows, and helps people but... let’s face it, he's not exactly the classic hero. Some say that he is a savior, like all the people he is saving. Like the little girl who was saved while a deranged man was kidnapping her and others that he is a monster. What do you think?" said pausing and announcing the new comeback of a K-pop band.

Across the glass, in the small waiting room of the radio, Jake and Sunghoon sat on a crumpled couch, listening to you with funny smiles. They both had coffee in their hands and backpacks lying next to them, waiting for the lessons to start later.

'Again with this story?' Sunghoon snorted, stretching. 'Maybe it’s just a mockingman who dresses up to avoid getting caught.'

-Or maybe it’s a real anti-hero! - Jake said, giving you a fun look. -Like... Batman but even darker.-

You smiled, swiping your finger on the keyboard as you read the live comments. "I think it’s hiding something big. What if it was someone we know or who goes to the same university as us?" you asked with a flash of curiosity in your eyes.

Jake and Sunghoon exchanged a quick, understated glance. They looked like they knew more than they wanted to admit and certainly did not want to be discovered by anyone that they were hiding a secret even bigger than themselves.

-Hey, stop making a thousand theories of the plot and then who knows, it could be anyone...- said Jake with a fake innocent air to misdirect the conversation

'Yep, it could be anyone,' added Sunghoon, shrugging.

"But I would pay gold to see it live, I would like too much to see those tentacles and also how he shoots the webs from his hands," you said as you saw the two guys not looking at your face anymore.

"You two are too suspicious. Don’t you know him? Or that you saw him in action? You stepped forward, narrowing your eyes. But before they could answer, the broadcast timer told them that the next song had to start. "And now, folks, I leave you with a piece that has shaped generations as well as Thriller by Michael Jackson. Stay with us!"

You press the button to start the song, then you shoot your fingers towards your roommates. "Okay, now you’re talking. What are you hiding? Have you ever seen him live?"

Jake chuckled and took a sip of his coffee. -Come on, don’t be a detective. Simply, maybe this guy has his reasons for doing what he does and I think that if you saw him live on one side you would be happy because it would save your life but on the other hand according to me you would be afraid if you found him in front of you with all his tentacles and with his Hands that shoot webs- and he laughed at Spiderman’s gesture

You looked at them suspiciously but at the same time you laughed to see Jake so happy, you were ready to press them again, but just then the door of the radio studio opened with a squeak.

Jay made his entrance as if he were the protagonist of a movie, with ripped jeans, and black leather jacket, the usual guitar strap, and the lethal look that could make you shiver and infuriate at the same time.

«Interesting conversation yours,» said Jay with a low voice and loaded with sarcasm, crossing his arms.

«I hope I have not interrupted anything important»

"Oh, nothing," you replied, approaching him with defiance. "Just speculations about our mysterious vigilante friend. Who knows, maybe you know him too. Have you seen how everyone is talking about it?"

Jay tilted his head to the side with an almost amused smile. «I? I have no time for this bullshit, I’m too busy with music and that vigilante should be more careful because every time I hear the news, the police are getting closer to finding his identity» And with that phrase he took your coffee and drank it all and went away throwing you a glance that made you shiver.

That night, outside of Seoul, the storm was raging. You were alone in the house: Jake, Sunghoon, and Jay had all.

Jake was definitely at the university football training, Sunghoon would have been around the city shooting as a model and well Jay would have been in his music office composing music for some record company. The shared apartment with those 3 guys was always full of screaming, laughing and people but that night you were at home alone and you sincerely missed spending time with them; It was for weeks that in the evening they came back late or only one of them returned and you understood that life as a student and worker was different from that of the high school but sometimes you just wanted to spend time with them like in the old days.

You sat on the couch with your phone in hand, carelessly scrolling through Twitter until a trending video caught your attention. A boy along with the vigilante or "Black Spider-Venom" so named by everyone on social media was wearing his black suit and he was saving people in a bank from robbers: he was blocking a car on the way, He stopped a criminal with dark tentacles and protected a woman with a black barrier of spider webs.

Stay glued to the screen for almost an hour, reading comments and police statements.

The police had been saying for days that the superhero or "monster" was between 20 and 25 because they found a backpack with university books but the fatalities were books used in all universities of the state and a snack boy who did sports. So you thought that this guy had two personalities: one was the student who could be anyone and the other a superhero who tried in every way to protect people but also had a dark side as well as the emphasis from Venom and Spiderman.

A deafening thunder shook the house, and you clenched your phone. Then you heard the front door open.

Jay was there, soaking wet, his hair stuck to his forehead, his face marked by fine scratches. You knew that Jay was a boxing athlete and that he trained meticulously but it was strange to see him with scratches and split lips, you tried to talk to him but he closed the door in the face of the bath and sighed and waited anxiously. When he came out, he was wearing a jumpsuit, an old 80’s band shirt that he loved so much and his hair was still wet. He made to go to his room, but you blocked the way.

Jay looked at you with a funny grin. «Problems?»

"What’s the matter?" you asked, crossing your arms, his face was full of small scratches, his lip slightly split and covered with blood and also his hands were bruised

He shrugged his shoulders. «I slipped while boxing, you know it’s not a princess sport and sooner or later you can get hurt and I took a good punch while I was training because I wasn’t careful.» said in a too-serious tone.

You sighed, holding your arms. "I don’t believe you, I know how boxing works, and ok the lip can also stand but those scratches?"

Jay laughed softly, coming one step closer. He was towering over you, the height difference was embarrassing. It was enough of a gesture to grab and push you against the wall.

Why did you always have to stick your nose everywhere? Thought Jay, irritated. He could not stand your insistence, your way of talking to him as if you could decipher every thought.

But beneath his irritation was something else. Something darker. Venom whispered inside him, hungry.

It is small... fragile. We could break it or make it our own.

Jay chased away those thoughts with a deep breath, but the voice inside him laughed. He made to open the door of his room, but you grabbed his wrist and dragged him into your room. "Sit down. I will take care of you."

He nodded, looking at you with a shadow of amusement. But inside him, Venom was agitating. How nice it would be to see her below us, to hear her tremble, fill her until she can’t think of anything but us...

Jay clenched his jaw. Fucking symbiote...he thought as he saw you go back to your room with the first aid kit you used to disinfect the beatings that Jake was getting, as well as your cousin at soccer or perhaps in some other way but did not deny that the idea was damn inviting to have you all for himself as he so desired.

You took the first-aid kit and sat next to Jay. He looked at you with his usual funny grin, the air of not taking anything seriously, but there was something strange in his eyes. Something darker. Deeper.

You grabbed his hands to disinfect them and only then did you notice how big they were compared to yours. Your little fingers almost seemed to get lost against his venous hands, with corns here and there for the hours spent playing guitar.

"Wow, you have huge hands," you murmured distressingly, focused on passing the cotton ball over the bruises.

Jay laughed softly, tilting his head. «And you are really small.»

You looked up at him, crossing his dark eyes staring at you with something undefined.

He was teasing you, as usual, but this time there was a different intensity in his words. He seemed... amused, yes, but also curious.

Jay wondered how it was possible that someone like you, so noisy, cheeky, stubborn, could be so delicate in gestures. He was annoyed by how your presence penetrated his skin, like a melody that could not get out of his head. Yet, there was something about you that irritated and attracted him at the same time. Ever since he first met you in the park when you fell off the slide, With the knee peeled and tears running down your face had thought about how dramatic you could be but to the same inside he had promised that he would never want to see you cry again because he would make sure to protect you.

Venom, on the other hand, had completely different thoughts. He was intrigued by you, by your apparent innocence, by your small body that moved with lightness beside him. Jay’s dark side only wanted one thing: branding you, making you his. He imagined you under him, bent to his will, your skin marked by his bites. And the more he tried to ignore it, the more that desire became overwhelming.

You rubbed the scratches gently on your face with disinfectant. Jay stood still, letting you do it, but your gaze lingered for a moment on the mark on his neck, that little dark spot in the shape of a heart or perhaps a butterfly. You bit your lip without realizing it, the indecent thought that crossed your mind was instantaneous and unstoppable. How good would it have been to kiss her? Lick her? Suck her?

You got yourself right back, driving those thoughts away. You shouldn’t have them. Not on him.

You have known him for more than 10 years and you have always found him annoying but it was a while ago that you found him extremely attractive and this thing made you go crazy because he wasn’t even your type with his character "I know everything."

Just then you passed the cotton swab over his split lip and Jay barely moaned, a low, involuntary sound that made you shudder. His breath became heavier, and you noticed him moving, escaping your touch as if he didn’t want to let you do it. It was frustrating.

"Stop moving," you snapped with an exasperated sigh. "Don’t be a baby," you warned him, but you knew he was doing it on purpose.

Jay smiled dangerously. «Don’t be a caring mom. I didn’t know you liked taking care of me.»

"I don’t like it, but if you don’t stand still I can’t finish."

Without thinking about it you put yourself on his legs, only to keep him still and be able to finish the job. But as soon as you did, you knew you’d made a mistake.

Jay curled under you for a moment, before relaxing and bowing his head with a grin that made you tremble.

«Oh... baby, that was a big mistake on your part,» he murmured in a low and husky voice, his hands slid naturally over your thighs, just clutching them but you felt a lot of chills go through your body because of his touch.

His rational side knew that he had to stop, that it was just a game of provocation between you. But Venom... Venom didn’t want to stop at all. He wanted to taste you, feel your body give in under his grip, and hear every sound you could make for him.

«Tell me, what do you think of that guy?» asked Jay, with a mischievous grin as he heard you disinfect him carefully

You bit your lip. "It’s... intriguing. After all, it is for everyone, isn’t it?" you said looking at his expression.

Jay nodded slowly. «Yeah. Maybe a little too much.»

You raised an eyebrow.

"Well, when something spectacular happens it always ends up on social media. That’s normal."

Jay bowed his head, his piercing gaze. «And you’re happy about it, aren’t you? You can’t wait for something exciting to happen to snoop around and talk about it on the radio so are you happy to have new material for your show?»

You smiled. "Sure. I love my work, both on radio and social media."

Jay came a little closer, his fingers slid down your back in a barely perceptible touch. «You’re too curious,» he murmured. «You also have the habit of asking too many questions.»

"Informed," you corrected.

«Curious,» he repeated, bowing his head with a clever smile

You looked him straight in the eye. "What questions?"

He chuckled. «I see and hear the questions you say you would ask if you found him in person: Who is he? Where does he come from? Why does he do it? What is it like to live two lives? What is it like to have the human part but also the monster part inside? You would like to find out, right?»

You raised your chin in defiance "Maybe yes, you know I was always too curious when we were little"

Jay shook his head, his eyes became darker. «You know, girls who are too curious have a bad end»

You didn’t look down. "I’m not afraid."

Jay was silent for a few seconds, then smiled. «You should.»

You came even closer, challenging him. "I’m afraid of murderers, rapists... not a boy who transforms to save people."

Something changed in him. His breath became heavier, his eyes shone with a dangerous light. Maybe it wasn’t just Jay at that moment Maybe it was something else.

A soft growl made its way through his lips, a low, almost animalistic sound. Venom was emerging. He wanted to test you, to see if you really wouldn’t be afraid when you were in front of him. And Jay couldn’t stop touching you, tightening his grip on your thighs, imagining what it would be like if he gave in to his instincts.

It was at that moment that something changed in Jay. His gaze became darker, more intense. Without giving you time to understand, Jay grabbed your face in his hands and smashed his lips on yours. The kiss was sudden, hungry, almost brutal. There was not only Jay at that moment. There was also something more dark, something more dangerous.

His hands clenched around your hips, holding you glued to him, while his tongue invaded your mouth with a security that made your head turn. You couldn’t even think. All you could do was hold on to him, arms around his shoulders, while your body instinctively reacted to contact.

You felt his fingers sink slightly into your skin, exploring every curve with a possession that made you shiver. Every touch sent sparks down your back, and before you knew it, your body was starting to respond to his.

"Jay..." moaning against his lips when you felt something hard press under you.

Jay smiled at your mouth, but there was something more. That smile wasn’t just his. It was also Venom’s.

His lips fell down your neck, initially leaving gentle, almost sweet kisses. But then the kisses became more insistent, more possessive. You felt him sucking, biting your skin slightly, marking you, leaving marks. Signs that no one else could have erased and you still didn’t know what you were getting into.

Jay’s lips were hot, and hungry, moving on yours with disarming security. His taste was intense, the breath barely altered as his hands clenched more tightly on your thighs, holding you firmly against him. Every touch of it seemed to leave a mark on your skin, an invisible mark that made you shiver and want even more.

He detached himself from you only for a moment, his dark eyes full of something indecipherable, a mix between the Jay you knew and another presence that seemed more and more domineering.

«Tell me...» he murmured, his voice was husky, charged with something that made you tremble and light at the same time. «Would you like to interview Venom?»

You looked at him with a mixture of curiosity and excitement, the chest rising and falling faster. "Yes," you answered without hesitation, with the desire to dig into that mystery that attracted you like a magnet. "I would ask him a lot of questions."

Jay smiled, but there was something dark behind that grin, a shadow that fascinated and frightened you at the same time. A hand slid under your shirt, fingers touching the bare skin of your side with an exasperating slowness. You shivered and he noticed it, lowering himself slightly to whisper in your ear.

«Venom has never been interviewed by anyone...» he paused, letting his warm breath caress your skin. «And if he did, he would want something in return.»

You looked into his eyes, your heart beating hard in your chest. "How do you know?" you asked, even if deep down you already sensed the answer.

Jay tilted his head to the side, his smile became sweeter, but no less predatory. "Maybe because Venom is much closer to you than you think.»

And as he said it, the change came before your eyes.

The black of the suit seemed to emerge directly from his skin, wrapping it in a slimy and eerie embrace, making it look bigger, more imposing. The symbol of Spider-Man shone on his chest, his body now a perfect balance between muscles and the dark power of Venom. But his face, which was still uncovered, as if he wanted you to see the man behind the monster.

Your breath stopped in your throat when you felt something cold and sinuous slip under your shirt.

A black tentacle touched your bare skin, caressing you with an exasperating slowness, making you shiver.

Jay- or maybe Venom- looked at you with bright eyes, his voice now more guttural, deeper.

«I want you all to myself,» he murmured, and her tone was an obscure promise. «And not only today.» His hands came back on you, stronger, safer.

«You may ask me any question,» he added, a mischievous grin spreading on his lips. «To Venom... or Jay.»

Your hands trembled as they slid over the black suit, feeling the strange but fascinating texture of the living material that enveloped it. It was warm under the fingers, pulsating as if it had a life of its own. When your fingers touched his biceps, the consistency changed, revealing the hard and sculpted flesh of his muscles.

Without thinking too much, you started sliding the suit off, slowly discovering her body. And fuck... it was beautiful. Perfect in an almost surreal way, with the skin stretched on defined muscles, some scratches here and there, and those damned tentacles that seemed to move with a will of their own. But for some reason, you didn’t feel scared. Maybe you should have, but the idea didn’t even occur to you.

Jay looked at you with a mixture of surprise and something else, something darker. «You... aren’t afraid?»

His rational part was confused, but Venom... Venom was damn smug. You could feel it in the air, in the tension between you. Her already overblown ego seemed to grow even more when she saw you so close, so curious instead of terrified.

You leaned over him, letting your lips touch his skin. Your warm breath tickled his neck as you began to kiss the heart-shaped birthmark perhaps a butterfly- that he had there. Jay closed his eyes for a moment, a sigh escaped from his lips, but when he opened them again there was something more dangerous in that look.

«You’re getting into trouble, you know?» he murmured in a husky voice.

I murmured in a hoarse voice. «Because when I fill you... it will not be just me.»

Those words made you shiver, but you did not stop. You continued to kiss his skin softly, savoring the warmth of his body. You looked up at him, your eyes shining with curiosity.

"Who did you save today?"

Jay barely smiled, a crooked smile, almost amused by your attempt to distract him. «A bank. There was a robbery.»

Annuded, without stopping to leave him little kisses on the tense muscles. He was seriously the vigilante, you had had him in front of your eyes for a long time and your doubts had come to light some time ago but you finally knew the truth. When your lips touched a scratch, he made a slight movement, almost imperceptible.

"Then you did a good job," you whispered, sliding your fingers over another mark on her skin.

Jay bowed his head, looking at you. «Do you want me to make the tentacles disappear?»

For a moment you considered the idea, and then you looked up at him with a curious smirk. "Venom would be happy if you let go of your tentacles?"

His expression changed. Jay puffed, but his eyes darkened slightly as a tentacle slowly brushed your back under your shirt. «Yes,» he admitted. "It would be.»

He paused, then added in a lower tone: «It’s hard to live with two personalities. Venom only comes out when I transform... Otherwise, I’m just the usual Jay.»

You looked at him, tilting your head slightly. "So, in a way, you are two different people?"

Jay stared at you, then smiled. «You’re not stupid at all, are you?»

You were winning. You felt it. You were asking questions, asking questions, taking him exactly where you wanted. But what you didn’t expect was that, at some point, Venom would notice. And it wouldn’t have worked out for him.

Your lips kept coming down her body, tracing a line of kisses on her warm, scratched skin. When you reached his navel, you heard Jay moaning softly your name, his irregular breath against your neck.

«You’re playing with fire, you know?» he murmured, his voice roaring, crossed by a thread of fun and something darker.

But before you could answer, a deep growl vibrated in the room.

"You’re too slow, Jay," Venom hissed into the boy’s mind. "This prey is ours. We must claim it."

Jay clenched his jaw, trying to maintain control. But he knew it was impossible with you. With you, Venom had too much desire to emerge.

Then, without warning, he pushed you gently backward, making you lie down under him. His dark eyes were burning reflections of something more primordial. More dangerous. You instinctively caressed his hair, your fingers intertwining between the dark locks. Jay closed his eyes for a moment, as if he wanted to taste your touch but it was only a moment.

When he opened them again, a grin cut off his lips.

«Do you realize what you’re doing?» he whispered, lowering her head to the edge of your ear. «Do you know how tempting you are? Or maybe... are you doing it on purpose?»

Its length rubbed against thy center, and thy breath broke.

Venom chuckled in Jay’s mind. "Look how she reacts. So hot. So ready. She’s ours. I want to hear her pleading."

Jay swallowed, fighting the way Venom was trying to overwhelm him. But he was on the edge of the abyss too.

«I can’t wait to fill you up,» he said in a loud, low, hypnotic tone. «Both me and him.»

His hands slipped on your hips, holding you tight as he lifted you slightly towards himself. His fingertips drew fire lines on your naked skin.

He took off your shirt slowly, with a deliberate slowness that made you shudder. Then he looked down at you, his eyes shining with desire.

«You are so sensitive,» he murmured, his lips resting on your hard buds, his tongue caressing them, his teeth teasing them with sweet cruelty. «Tell me, how will you take all of me?»

You rolled your back, "Jay" a moan escaped from your lips and inside him, Jay was struggling. A part of him wanted to take you with an almost painful sweetness, like a cat that enjoys teasing his prey before giving it the final blow but Venom... did not want to play. Venom wanted to eat you and you didn’t know what you were into.

His lips moved along your skin, descending ever lower, leaving a trail of warm and possessive kisses. Jay’s breath deepened as it reached your breasts, his tongue drawing circles around your tight buds before wrapping them completely.

You moan his name, your head slightly bent backward, your senses now completely overwhelmed by him.

Jay looked up at you with a satisfied grin, his eyes shining with something darker, deeper.

«Call me as you like,» he whispered, his voice stinging and dangerous. «Jay... or Venom.»

His tone made you shudder, but you nodded, hands still clinging to his hair. " Yes..." you murmured, your breath broken by excitement.

Jay smiled at your skin before coming down again, his hands caressing you with exasperating slowness. He took off your pajamas without haste, enjoying every second that your body revealed itself to him.

Then he looked down at your exposed center and a lascivious whisper slipped from his lips.

«You are already so soaked...» he muttered, the fingers that touched your intimacy with a light but devastating touch. «It is so sensitive... only for me.»

He looked at you carefully, tilting his head slightly.

«Tell me...» whispered, the fingers that kept exploring you without ever giving you enough. «Have you ever thought of me in this way?»

His question hit you in the chest. Your breath stopped, and for a moment there was only silence between you. Then, with a slight movement of the head, you nodded no.

But you couldn’t stand his gaze.

Inside him, Venom hissed amused. Liar.

Jay laughed softly, but his eyes were dark, full of something that made you tremble. «You are a terrible liar,» he said with a smirk. «I see how you look at me.»

And without giving you time to answer, he slipped a finger inside you.

A moan immediately escaped from your lips. "Venom..."

Jay smiled. Or was it Venom?

«Good girl,» he whispered against your skin, while his finger moved slowly inside you, exploring you, testing every reaction.

You shudder, the heart pounding in your chest. " Perhaps... in the past..." your voice was trembling, full of desire, "I... I fantasized about you..."

Jay laughed, satisfied, while inside of him Venom was boiling with pleasure.

«Oh, honey,» whispered Jay, his mouth back to bite your neck, leaving red marks on your skin. «You belong to me now.»

Venom became more brazen, his desire almost tangible. You are ours.

Jay’s breath was erratic, his body tense as he watched you with those deep dark eyes. Venom, however, was scrambling to take control. You felt his presence, a hungry shadow growing in him, ready to claim you.

"Look how fragile she is... so small in our hands," the voice of Venom resounded in the room, low and guttural. "It’s ours. Nobody else can have it, nobody else can touch it."

Jay clenched his jaw, fighting with the creature inside him. "Venom, calm down."

"No," hissed the symbiote. "Can’t you see what he calls it? He wants us both. He wants to feel us inside him. Why should we wait?"

Wet and sloppy sounds fill your ears and Jay’s as he pumps another finger into you, Jay feels how well you took it and how excited your pussy was as he pumped and curls his fingers up and down, Your legs are wriggling as you hear Jay’s tongue slowly pinch and suck on your swollen clitoris for the stimulation you’re receiving, Contrast the muscle with a moan so pronounced that Jay could come all on himself because it was for whole months that he dreamed of hearing your moans, Instead Venom from the first day you met you had thought about how beautiful you were and how much he would want to make you feel good but at the same time take you and make you his and fill you.

"mmhm! It’s too much, I need to come" Your eyes spill into the skull as you feel your body be pervaded by shivers and feel your excitement slowly increase as you come between Jay’s fingers. Jay took his fingers full of white cum into his tongue and tasted you.

«delicious,» he said to you with a rock voice and a shiver ran across your back as Jay touched your face with his fingers, his warm fingertips on your skin. «Are you all right?» His voice was sweet and worried, but there was something deeper in his eyes. Desire.

You looked at it and nodded slowly. "I want both."

It was all that Venom needed to hear. A low growl vibrated in Jay’s chest as the symbiote took over, his hands clenching tighter on your hips. " You hear that, Jay? She wants it. She wants to be ours."

Your trembling fingers slid along the elastic of his suit, slowly lowering it down with his boxers. Your breath stopped for a moment when you saw it in its entirety.

"Fuck... will it fit me completely?" whispering, biting your lip as you watched.

Jay laughed softly, shaking his head. «Only you could make fun of me at a time like this.»

You curled your lips, letting your fingers slide along its length before gently squeezing it and starting to pump it with slow movements, knowing exactly how to make it go crazy. You felt his breath getting heavier as the pre-sperm liquid started to wet the tip.

"I want you..." you said in a low, sensual voice, moving closer to his ear. "But I want both the Jay and Venom parts."

Jay held his head for a moment. «Are you sure?»

You bit your lip, brushing its chest with your nails. "I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t. Did you think I would let someone else touch me like that?"

Venom made himself feel inside him, a shiver shook Jay as his deep voice resounded in his head. It’s perfect. Cheeky, provocative. She wants to make it ours. he wants to fill it and brand it.

Jay swallowed hard as he felt his darker side take over. With the tip of his member, he began to touch your entry, slowly teasing you, driving you crazy.

"Jay..." moans, the need in your voice was clear.

«Tell me exactly what you want,» he said with a satisfied smile.

You bent slightly, trying to push against him, but his hands stopped you, holding you still.

"Asshole," you hissed, eyes burning with desire. "Move."

A guttural growl escaped from Jay’s lips, or rather of Venom. «You are so impatient... and so excited for us.»

Then, without further ado, it pushed itself inside you, slowly at first, letting you feel every inch as your body adapted to its size.

He withheld a groan, seeing you shudder beneath him, your body wrapped around his.

"Fuck, you’re perfect...» murmured Jay, caressing your face softly. "I want you to like it.»

"Move," you whisper, the voice full of need.

It was at this moment that Venom took control. His hands seized your hips with force, his movements became deeper, faster, and more brutal.

«You hear him» he growled, his voice lower, darker. «Are you enjoying being filled like this?»

The pleasure overtook you, you clung to his shoulders, your nails sinking into his skin.

"Yes, fuck!" you panicked, your body responding to every push. You felt something fresh and sinuous enveloping your belly, sliding along your body with an unnatural precision. A glossy black tentacle crept towards your center, pressing firmly on your clitoris. A shiver ran down your back, making you shudder.

"Oh God..." groans, squeezing Jay even harder.

«Do you like it, baby?» Venom’s voice was deeper, darker. Jay was still there, but you could hear him leaving more and more room for the creature. The tentacle wrapped around your body, stroking you in places you didn’t even think were so sensitive. The pressure on you increased, each pushes more intense, deeper until you lost your breath.

«Look how well you treat us... You were born to be ours.» Venom’s voice was a hoarse whisper against your skin, a sinful murmur that made you shiver.

Jay stuck his fingers in your hips, his blows getting stronger and faster. The pleasure accumulated in your belly, each push sent waves of heat into your body, while the tentacle kept on tickling you without respite.

«Tell me you’re coming for us.» Jay clenched his jaw, holding back with difficulty.

"S-yes... I’m coming..." you panicked, your body shaking.

And when the pleasure finally exploded inside you, Venom emitted a guttural sound of approval.

«Beautiful...» whispered Jay. You felt the heat spread within you, as the tentacle slowly retreated, leaving behind a trail of electric chills.

Jay panted as Venom pushed deeper, feeling your orgasm grip him perfectly. With an animalistic growl, Jay let go of every brake, pushing himself inside you one last time before filling you.

It remained inside you for a few seconds, the heavy breath, the body still tense from pleasure.

«You are beautiful with my seed inside you,» he whispered against your neck, slowly licking your skin.

You still felt trembling, exhausted, and completely possessed by them.

«Now you are ours,» added Venom with a satisfied grin.

Jay hugged you and felt that the "human" Jay you knew was back. Both of you had a long breath, the bodies still intertwined, and you gently brushed the bruises that began to form on her skin. He sank his head into the hollow of your neck, tickling you with a warm breath, and with a thread of voice asked you:

«Did you like it?»

He seemed almost embarrassed by the question, which made you smile. You stroked him gently and with a slight smile, you replied:

"Jay, it was crazy. I was so stupid not to know that you were the guy I talked about every day..."

He stood up slowly, pulling a strand of hair from your face and touching your cheek with his fingertips. His gaze was full of sweetness but also a veil of apprehension.

«You won’t tell anyone, will you?» he asked with a hint of concern in his voice.

You smiled and, without a word, gave him your little finger. Jay burst out laughing but crossed his finger with yours, sealing that secret with a swearing oath.

After a few seconds of silence, you looked at him with curiosity.

"But... are there others like you?"

Jay just made a gesture with his boss, pointing to the little picture you had on your bedside table. In that photo were you, him, Jake, and Hoon. You felt the breath cut and brought a hand to your mouth, surprised.

"Wait... they too...?"

Jay nodded with a clever smirk. «You’ll find out for yourself. But not in spicy situations!»

You burst out laughing, shaking your head as a shiver of excitement ran down your spine. This story was becoming much more interesting than you ever imagined.

If you like the genre tell me if you want to discover also the other members with their powers:)

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Comments and rebblog are appreciated

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fangdokja · 2 days ago

Text

Some women play hard to get. You play impossible to afford.

♡ Yandere! DILF's x Fem. Reader. Sugar Daddy, Old Money, Professor, Sponsor

♡ Headcanons. Midas Eyes - Part 1

♡ Word Count. 1,916

You learned early on that the world was cruel.

No, really, you learned it at four years old when your mother sold you for a pack of cheap cigarettes and a crumpled fifty-dollar bill to a greasy landlord who smelled like mothballs and desperation. He took one look at your wide, galaxy-stained eyes, eyes that had already started to carry that otherworldly sheen, and promptly died of a stroke before he could even touch you. The police called it a tragic accident. Your mother called it a waste of fifty dollars. You called it a Tuesday. Even now at eighteen years old, life's been like that.

You were shuffled into the system often. Foster homes, group homes, shelters—hell itself would’ve had more warmth. But that’s where you learned the first rule of survival: if you can’t fight it, learn to use it. You were tired of people looking at you like a piece of meat. Tired of the unwanted hands, the constant stares, the whispering in dark corners about how you “glowed like an angel.” You hated it. Hated that your eyes could make anyone do what you wanted, that they could turn even the most self-righteous into a desperate, panting fool.

But you also hated starving. And cold. And the feeling of powerlessness even more than you hated your ability.

So you made a choice: if the world wanted to use you, you’d use it first.

In due time, you had learned to control it. To turn it on and off at will. To make people see what you wanted them to see. You were a ghost in the system, slipping through cracks, taking what you needed, and leaving before anyone could remember your name. Some nights you’d practice in the mirror, staring at yourself until your pupils bled into cosmic chaos, until the universe itself seemed to shift in your gaze. You named it “The Midas Eyes.” Because everything you saw—everything you wanted—was yours.

And eventually, you had tasted money, real money. Not the pocket change from pickpocketing or the damp bills from scamming local creeps, but real wealth. Luxury. High society. It started with a bet. Some bloated banker had looked down on you from his too-expensive car, and you’d made him hand over his Rolex with a single glance. A week later, you had an entire stock portfolio under your name. A month after that, you had real estate. The world bent over backward for you, and you made sure to squeeze every last dime out of it.

But money alone wasn’t enough. You wanted power. Control. A safety net so thick that even the universe itself couldn’t shake it.

So you learned the second rule of survival: play the role they expect.

If people wanted a dumb, submissive slut, then that’s what you’d be. You let them think they were buying you, when in reality, you were buying them. Men who thought they were the hunters quickly found themselves devoured. You became an investment, a commodity with a price tag so high that only the richest could afford a taste. A model. A cam girl. A prostitute. A luxury escort. You didn’t just sell sex—you sold power, exclusivity.

You became a myth in elite circles, a legend whispered behind closed doors.

“She only takes billionaires.”

“She can make you do anything.”

“She’s dangerous.”

You reveled in it. If they wanted a goddess, you’d be a goddess. If they wanted a pet, you’d leash yourself until it tightened around their throat instead. You didn’t care about love, relationships, or any of that sentimental trash. You loved one thing, and one thing only: money.

And now, you had your sights set on the next step up the food chain.

Not just any rich men. The richest. The most powerful. The ones who controlled the world’s wealth like gods playing chess.

You’d already caught their attention. You could feel it, sense the way they watched from the shadows, sizing you up like a meal, thinking they were the predators.

You smiled.

They had no idea who they were dealing with.

────────────

♡ Yandere! Sugar Daddy who's the human equivalent of a Wall Street crash—volatile, erratic, and absolutely lethal to anyone who underestimates him.

♡ Yandere! Sugar Daddy who made his first billion by accident. It was supposed to be a scam. A joke. A fun little side hustle that somehow spiraled into an empire overnight. He didn't mean to disrupt the global market, but oops. Here he was.

♡ Yandere! Sugar Daddy who still doesn’t quite understand how he got here, only that money feels like a game and he’s very, very good at playing it. He thrives on chaos. He doesn’t invest; he gambles. He doesn’t plan; he improvises. He doesn’t think things through, but somehow, miraculously, it always works out.

♡ Yandere! Sugar Daddy who is both a genius and a complete menace to society. If there’s a rule, he breaks it. If there’s a limit, he tests it. If there’s a way to make money off something, he’s already done it—twice.

♡ Yandere! Sugar Daddy who meets you at a high-stakes poker game, where billionaires bet islands and countries instead of money. He’s bored out of his mind. Then you walk in.

♡ Yandere! Sugar Daddy who watches you clean out the entire table in less than an hour, methodically breaking men apart with a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes. You fascinate him. Not just because you’re beautiful, but because you’re dangerous. Because your Midas Eyes meet his, and for the first time in his life, he feels like prey.

♡ Yandere! Sugar Daddy who watches, enraptured, as you make a man sign away his company with nothing but a glance and a well-placed touch. Who leans forward when you finally turn your attention to him, a slow, assessing look that makes his breath catch. Who grins, wild and reckless, because he can already tell—you’re going to ruin him, and he’s going to let you.

———

♡ Yandere! Old Money who comes from a line of men who have never known the taste of failure. Who were born at the top and will die at the top, because that’s how the world works.

♡ Yandere! Old Money who was raised with a silver spoon in his mouth and a dagger in his back. Who learned from an early age that emotions are weaknesses, that sentimentality is a disease, that control is the only currency that matters.

♡ Yandere! Old Money who does not ask. He takes. He dominates. He bends the world to his will, because it has never occurred to him that it could be any other way.

♡ Yandere! Old Money who meets you long before you’re anything. When you’re still clawing your way up, bleeding and starving and feral. He sees the potential. The raw, untamed brilliance lurking beneath your calculated indifference.

♡ Yandere! Old Money who decides, on a whim, to train you. To refine you. To mold you into something worthy of his attention. He does not coddle. He does not nurture. He sharpens you like a blade and throws you into the fire, watching with satisfaction as you come out harder, colder, more lethal.

♡ Yandere! Old Money who realizes, too late, that he has created something he cannot control. That the little girl he shaped into a weapon now turns those razor-sharp edges back on him. That you are no longer a student but an equal. A rival. A threat.

♡ Yandere! Old Money who watches, with a mixture of pride and something far darker, as you carve out your own empire. Who finds himself drawn to you in ways that make no logical sense. Who wants to possess you, to own you, to bring you back under his control—but knows, deep down, that you would rather burn the world than belong to anyone but yourself.

———

♡ Yandere! Professor who is both an enigma and a monster. The kind of man who speaks in riddles and thinks in labyrinths, who sees ten steps ahead and moves accordingly.

♡ Yandere! Professor who is a scholar, a historian, a philosopher—but also a thief, a manipulator, a man who collects secrets the way others collect art.

♡ Yandere! Professor who teaches at the most prestigious university in the world, not because he cares about education, but because it gives him access to the minds of the next generation. Because knowledge is power, and power is everything.

♡ Yandere! Professor who meets you when you enroll in his class under a false name, slipping into his lecture hall like a shadow. Who notices you immediately—not because of your beauty, but because of your silence. Because you sit in the back, watching, calculating, dissecting his every word like you’re searching for weakness.

♡ Yandere! Professor who finds himself intrigued. Who starts testing you, pushing you, setting traps just to see if you’ll spring them. Who watches, delighted, as you navigate his mind games with the ease of someone who has spent their entire life playing a much deadlier version.

♡ Yandere! Professor who realizes, too late, that he has become obsessed. That he lingers on your name longer than he should. That he rewatches security footage just to see the way you move. That he dreams of you, of your Midas Eyes, of what it would feel like to have you look at him like that.

♡ Yandere! Professor who knows, deep down, that you are playing him just as much as he is playing you—but does not care. Because for the first time in his life, he has met someone worthy of the game.

———

♡ Yandere! Sponsor who is quiet, calculating, and impossibly dangerous. The kind of man who does not waste words, who does not make idle threats, who does not hesitate.

♡ Yandere! Sponsor who grew up in the underbelly of society, in the kind of places that eat the weak and spit out the strong. Who fought his way out with nothing but his fists and a mind sharper than any blade.

♡ Yandere! Sponsor who does not trust easily. Who does not give freely. Who does not believe in kindness, because he has never been given any.

♡ Yandere! Sponsor who meets you when you come looking for a backer, someone to fund whatever grand scheme you’ve concocted this time. Who listens as you lay out your plans with the cold precision of a woman who has never known failure.

♡ Yandere! Sponsor who sees the hunger in your eyes, the same hunger that once burned in his. Who recognizes a kindred spirit, a fellow survivor, a wolf disguised as a lamb.

♡ Yandere! Sponsor who decides, in that moment, that he will back you. That he will give you what you need. That he will watch, from the shadows, as you rise higher and higher, knowing that every step you take brings you closer to him.

♡ Yandere! Sponsor who does not ask for repayment. Who does not demand gratitude. Who does not claim ownership. But who watches. Who waits. Who bides his time, knowing that one day, you will realize that he is the only one who truly understands you.

♡ Yandere! Sponsor who will be there when that day comes. Who will catch you when you finally fall. Who will remind you that some debts can never be repaid—only collected.

———

Because you may be the predator now.

But sooner or later, every predator meets something hungrier.

♡ Note. Due to Tumblr content guidelines involving minors, some plot details of the original story were changed to fit the platform. If you want the true original story, please look at the author's official website or Ao3.

Yandere! DILFs

Headcanons 1 : Midas Eyes (General)

Some women play hard to get. You play impossible to afford.

You're not a gold digger. You're an entrepreneur. And business is booming.

🔞Every orgasm comes with a zero at the end of your bank account.

He’s not jealous. He just needs to remind you why no one else can fuck you like he does.

🔞"You wanna act like a whore? Then be one. On your knees. Now."

If you want to be added or removed from the tag list, just comment on the MASTERLIST of Whispers in the Dark (WITD): Subtle Devotion, Lingering Shadows. Thank you.

General TAG LIST of “Whispers In The Dark”: @keisocool , @elvabeth , @elloredef , @mjsjshhd , @lem-hhn , @yuki-istired , @lilyalone , @starryperson , @yandreams-storageblog , @tiffyisme3760 , @songbirdgardensworld , @yune1337 , @mocalocha , @astreaaaaaa6 , @poopooindamouf , @yandereaficionado , @esther-kpopstan , @iris-arcadia , @hopingtocleaemedschool , @doncellaescarlata , @futuristicxie

❤︎ Fang Dokja's Books.

♡ For Reader-Inserts. I only write Male Yandere x Female (Fem.) Reader (heterosexual couple). No LGBTQ+:

♡ Book 1. A Heart Devoured (AHD): A Dark Yandere Anthology

♡ Book 2. Forbidden Fruits (FF): Intimate Obsessions, Unhinged Desires.

♡ Book 3. World Ablaze (WA) : For You, I'd Burn the World.

♡ Book 4 [you are here]. Whispers in the Dark (WITD): Subtle Devotion, Lingering Shadows.

♡ Book 5. Ink & Insight (I&I): From Dead Dove to Daydreams.

♡ Library MASTERPOST 1. The Librarian’s Ledger: A Map to The Library of Forbidden Texts.

♡ Notice #1. Not all stories are included in the masterpost due to Tumblr’s link limitations. However, most long-form stories can be found here. If you're searching for a specific yandere or theme, this guide will help you navigate The Library of Forbidden Texts. Proceed with caution

♡ Book 6. The Red Ledger (TRL): Stained in Lust, Written in Blood.

♡ Notice #2. This masterlist is strictly for non-con smut and serves as an exercise in refining erotic horror writing. Comments that reduce my work to mere sexual gratification, thirst, or casual simping will not be tolerated. If your response is primarily thirst-driven, keep it to yourself—repeated violations may result in blocking. Read the RULES before engaging. The tag list is reserved for followers I trust to respect my boundaries; being included is a privilege, not a right. You may request to be added, but I will decide based on trust and adherence to my guidelines. I also reserve the right to remove anyone at any time if their engagement becomes inappropriate.

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brawberryz · 2 days ago

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touch me i scream

Batfam Yan! × Elizabeth Afton!Reader

《Platonic》

Note: English is not my first language, sorry if there is any translation error / I don't know if this could be considered "neglected" reader since the negligence is only on Bruce's part, so maybe)? / FNAF AU!

Tw: child neglect, abuse, child murder, murder, maltreatment, yandere behaviors , self-harm, brief mention of suicide, isolation, knife use, toxic relationships, domestic violence, brief mention of drugs, psychological abuse, manipulation, dark themes

Weird

That's how you could consider your life, it was quite strange and boring, you always spent your time at home

Summer vacation had started and all you could do was stay home

You didn't have any friends, you only had your brothers

Your life was quite lonely, the only one you trusted too much was Damian

But these last few months he was behaving in a strange way, he had dark circles under his eyes and he never slept

The only times he did was for a short time, he seemed scared most of the time

Every time you got up in the early morning to drink water you found him crying on the floor of his room

He said he saw monsters, terrifying versions of the animatronics your father built

Those nights you used to accompany him so he could sleep but even so his paranoia didn't stop

A lot of blame was also because of Jason, he kept scaring Damian with that stupid foxy mask

You had tried to defend him but still Jason never he stopped

He always found a way to scare Damian

Richard had been the only one who managed to stop Jason's pranks

He was the older brother, he was hardly ever home before because he spent his time with his friends or at university

But since your mother disappeared he had to take care of all of you, he had to be a mother and father at the same time

Because he knew that Bruce didn't care about any of his children, sometimes you wished you could get away from here

Escape far away from this stupid "home", it stopped being considered home years ago

Your "father" who didn't even deserve to be called that, was an idiot and violent

At night you could hear your mother crying, she always fought with Bruce

It was normal for them to fight, and your father didn't mind hitting or insulting your mother

Richard tried many times to defend your mother from Bruce But the only thing he earned was a hit

You didn't understand why your mother She never fought back, she just accepted the blows and insults

But one night, you couldn't sleep because of the screams in the kitchen, they were fighting again

You slowly got out of bed to go spy, you wanted to know what was going on

It was a little weird that your parents were fighting at this time of night, you got a little closer to the door

Not enough, but you could barely see anything

The last thing you could hear was your mother screaming as she begged Bruce not to do it

You ran scared to your room, you could barely process what you saw

Your mother's screams and pleas were still in your head since that day

You hated yourself for never being able to tell what you saw

But your fear of ending up the same way as your mother prevented you from doing so

That day you realized what kind of monster your father was

You hated him so much, too much

You hated having to Seeing his face every day, you hated him touching you or just giving you a hug

You felt like gagging just thinking about him, he was the most reprehensible human being ever

And you hated him more for what he had done to Tim

Tim was your father's assistant, he used to work at the pizzeria with him

He also used to be a security guard at night

You could consider him a friend Even though he was much older than you

Sometimes you used to accompany your father to work and those days you took the opportunity to go talk to him

When you went back to accompany your father to work you looked for Tim all over the pizzeria, then your father told you that Tim had decided to quit

You frowned, you knew he was lying

He always lied, you just nodded pretending that you understood

Until one time your father asked you to take out the trash at the pizzeria, he said it would be good if you were useful for something

You just accepted it, a little offended by his comment. As you walked out the back door and put the trash in the bin, you saw something strange in a bag.

A little disgusted, you put your hand inside the trash and pulled out an identification plate.

But it wasn't just any old one, it was Tim's.

It had some dried blood stains, the blood didn't look old, it still had that red color.

You swallowed nervously and you felt like gagging. You fell to the rough ground and small tears fell from your eyes.

Someone you cared about had disappeared again and you couldn't do anything, absolutely nothing.

After that day, the streets of your neighborhood were full of "wanted" posters with Tim's face.

His parents were devastated by the disappearance of their son. He was so young and had a secure future.

Your father gave his condolences to Tim's parents.

What a hypocrite.

That was the only thing your head could think. Maybe you were just a little girl. but you understood much more than others would think

I hate you, Bruce Wayne

You officially hated this family

From one day to the next your brothers started acting weird, a few days ago you met a boy

They were the same age and he was your first friend in a long time

But as soon as they found out you made a friend they went crazy

Richard didn't let you go out alone anymore, and he sent Jason to keep a close eye on you

You could barely get close to your new friend without Jason giving you a murderous look

And because of that you had lost a friend, he was the first one you had

And he was gone, then you had a talk with Richard

He tried to justify himself saying that that boy wasn't a good influence

Why do you need friends when you have your brothers? They are much better than anyone you could ever meet

Also Damian had been clinging to you too much, his paranoia was multiplied by a thousand

You thought that this paranoia was because of those "pills" that your father gave him

You knew that they were not sleeping pills, those pills made him hallucinate

Bruce wanted to destroy each one of his children, and then he was going to rebuild them the way he wanted

Who would think that you would be his next victim, too bad things didn't go as well as he thought

Your father's new pizzeria had opened to the public, "Sister location"

This time he opened the pizzeria without Clark's help, the two of them used to be best friends

Bruce and Clark opened the first pizzeria together, but since the death of Jon his son everything had changed for him

He had fallen into great guilt and depression

The death of his son and the unexpected divorce with his wife had left him in a bad state

He had decided to withdraw from the project

Leaving Bruce alone, and it was something that didn't bother him either

He had gotten what he wanted, he had already gotten Clark and his stupid morals out of his way

Your plan was almost complete, he had justice on his side

He had made sure that not a single policeman suspected him, you could say that he was about to commit a perfect crime

You found yourself crying on the floor, your cheek hurt from your father's blow

You had decided to enter your father's study without permission and spilled coffee on his plans

Bruce had become furious, you tried to apologize but it only made his anger grow

"Can't you do something right!?"

You could only look down as more tears fell from your eyes

"I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to do it, it was an accident..."

Bruce sighed angrily before forcibly lifting you off the ground and telling you to get out of his studio

You just nodded scared, running out the metal door

You hated this, sometimes you just wished you could die

You didn't want to be here, you wanted this to be over once and for all

You walked through the aisles of the pizzeria, your cheek still hurt

Your tears had dried but your hate and sadness were still there

Your body stopped as soon as you saw Baby

The animatronic that your father had made for you, one day you gave him a drawing and he used that as inspiration

That day you were so happy, for the first time you had felt your father's love

Too bad this was a trap disguised as a gift

You entered the shameless room where the animatronic was

It seemed strange to you that it was separated from the other animatronics

As soon as the animatronic detected you, its eyes sparkled

"Baby..."

The animatronic's name came out of your lips, your eyes sparkled with happiness

After a long time you could finally see it

The animatronic's stomach opened surprising you

A small ice cream came out of it, it was your favorite flavor

You thought that your father had made it just for you

You approached slowly, your arm getting close to the ice cream

You could barely react when the claw pierced you and threw you towards the animatronic

A scream of pain was heard throughout the room, you felt your ribs breaking and your organs being crushed by the claw

The last thing you felt was your bones being destroyed as you completely entered the stomach of the animatronic

The animatronic barely caught your body inside its stomach when it turned off, her task had been completed

The only thing left in this bloody scene was the blood on the floor and the stomach of the animatronic

That day the innocence of another child had been snatched away by Bruce Wayne's claws

And this time the victim was his daughter

A small tinkling in the eyes of the animatronic illuminated the empty and dark room, they had changed color

The same color as your eyes

Bruce had gone to He checked the animatronics, he thought they had completed their mission

He was very surprised when he found your body crushed between the wires of baby

At that moment something changed inside him, you weren't supposed to end up like this

If one of your brothers had ended up like this he wouldn't care much, but you?

Yes, he was a horrible father but there was a part of him that cared about you

But he also discovered something, remnant

Your body had produced that

Also your soul had merged with the animatronic, it was something he realized when he saw baby's eyes

That day he had fallen further into imminent madness

But everything has its end

Richard sighed tiredly as he parked his car in front of the "Sister location" store

It had been a year since everything happened

Too bad your death wasn't the only incident that happened in the family

Since your death Richard began to neglect his other brothers, guilt consumed him and he had no one to vent to

Also the jokes had increased on Jason's part, and he had begun to take it out on Damian

And his jokes began to become more dangerous

until one day on Damian's birthday Jason decided to play one last joke on him

He decided to put him inside the mouth of one of the animatronics, too bad not everything went well

The animatronic's jaw ended up crushing Damian's skull while he asked Jason to get him out of there

That had marked Jason forever, he had fallen into a deep depression

Your death and Damian's death filled him with guilt, he had killed one of his

He was a murderer

After a time of depression and self-harm Richard found him hanging in his room

Richard's mental state began to worsen, it seemed as if the world was against him

His life was full of misfortunes

The only thing that kept him afloat was a little voice in his head that told him not to give up

It sounded just like you

Then Bruce decided to disappear by moving somewhere and only leaving a farewell note

From time to time he sent Richard money but he had to work so as not to end up on the street

Because Bruce cared very little about his safety

Until one day Bruce called him, told him to go to sister location

He was going to refuse until Bruce confessed everything to Richard

You were there, or well

Your body was there, he told him that you died because of an animatronic and that your soul and body were there

And the only way to Freeing you was going back there, that was the only thing Bruce needed to tell Richard before he grabbed all his things to go to that abandoned pizzeria

He sighed nervously as he approached the pizzeria, he had lost you years ago

And the guilt continued to eat away at him

But this time he had another chance and he had to do whatever it took to free you from that hell

But it was just a trap, a trap disguised as hope and sweet lies

Your soul had been corrupted and the only thing left was hate and resentment

Resentment for the hate of the man who did this to you, the purple man

I hate you Bruce Wayne

But this time I will have my revenge, we will have our revenge

I am not afraid of you anymore, not anymore

reuploaded because for some reason tumblr deleted it lol

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morganaawriterr · 2 days ago

Text

Love’s the death of peace of mind; Jay

SYNOPSIS ➺ You always believed your obsession with Jay was somewhat harmless — the stolen glances, the job you took just to stay close, the nights spent following his every move. But when familiar faces start vanishing and strange coincidences pile up, a chilling truth begins to surface.

PAIRING ➺ Stalker fem!reader X not-so-inocent lawyer!Jay

GENRE ➺ Thriller; slow burn (?); stalker au; killer au; strangers to lovers (?);

WORDS ➺ 13k

WARNINGS ➺ Staker behavior; mentions of blood and death; cursing; obsessive behavior; sexual content (not fully smut); heavy tension; age gap (3 years);

AUTHOR'S NOTE ➺ This fic is so freaking cool, I am so excited to finally post it! This took me a whole week to write and prepare and its literally my fav ever!!! I hope you guys like it as well! Likes and reblogs are always appreciated. Thank you so much! Masterlist

You never knew you were capable of becoming what you have.

But your eyes are, once again, focused on him as he sits down in his usual spot by the large window. He always sets down his backpack and takes out his computer after placing his order. He doesn’t put on his earphones until his drink is sitting on the table, just so he can hear you call his name. You barely know him; in fact, you only know his name because you had to write it on the cup. Yet your mind drowns in thoughts of him every time he comes to the café.

The ambient is calm and quiet, the only audible sounds coming from the Bluetooth speakers playing soft jazz. You force your eyes to shift to the dark day outside, where heavy gray clouds paint the sky dark even at three in the afternoon. You admire the bushes swaying in the wind by the entrance, noticing small flower petals drifting away.

Your gaze wanders to the big TV hanging on the wall, and your eyes widen at the news. A girl who’s been missing for months flashes across the screen, and as you carefully take in her face, your heart tightens with an unfamiliar fear, a deep, unsettling feeling that you can’t quite place.

Uncomfortable, you turn toward your annoyed coworker, who’s making the drinks all by herself. As you watch, you notice the store is out of the caramel topping your mystery man always asks for. You smile to yourself, grateful for the universe giving you a chance to talk to him. Your heart flutters at the thought of his voice—not too deep, but warm and attractive.

You slowly walk toward his table, and he notices you halfway there, turning his head to shamelessly watch you approach. Despite your hair being tied in a tidy ponytail, Jongseong can tell how long it is as it sways with each step. His eyes travel lower, and though you’re wearing the unflattering store uniform, he imagines the curves of your body beneath it. The uniform consists of a forest-green button-up shirt, black slacks, and a white apron tied around your waist.

“Excuse me, Mr. Jongseong. Unfortunately, we’re out of caramel topping. Would you like to replace it with something else, or would you prefer a refund?” You speak calmly, keeping your voice as professional as possible.

The man in front of you lifts his gaze to yours, his deep brown eyes holding your attention with an intensity that makes the air feel suddenly thick and hard to breathe. You feel your cheeks flush under his insistent stare, and after a few seconds of silence, he finally responds:

“You can replace it with whatever you think is best. Something tells me your choice will be better than anything I could come up with.” Jongseong’s voice is just as smooth and alluring as you remembered, and you can’t help the smile that grows on your lips.

“Sure thing, Mr. Jongseong.” You offer him a gentle smile and bow politely before turning back toward the counter.

Jay watches you walk away, his eyes following the confident sway of your hips. The apron tied snugly around your waist only emphasizes your figure, and he finds himself captivated. He’s never seen someone so beautiful working such an ordinary job, and now he has his eyes on you.

At the counter, you tell your coworker to add vanilla instead, your favorite flavor for both milk and coffee. As you lean on the counter, she notices the silly smile on your lips and rolls her eyes, clearly annoyed by how easily flustered you are. But she doesn’t know how Jongseong’s eyes wandered over your body or how that gaze left you feeling warm and tingly.

After all, she’s stuck with an unappealing man who’s older but somehow more childish than she is. She thinks you don’t know, but you’ve overheard their fights when he comes to pick her up, his voice always reeking of cigars and cheap cologne. The way he looks at you, like you’re a piece of meat, makes your skin crawl. But today, you’re feeling generous, thanks to the universe, so you let it slide without a word.

As soon as your coworker finishes his drink, you take the cup in your hand, your fingers tracing the letters of his name written on the fragile plastic. You love the way his name rolls off your tongue like a quiet spell.

“Order for Jongseong!” You call out, your voice clear and careful, your eyes fixed in his direction.

Just like a scene from a romantic movie, he rises slowly from his chair and walks toward you. His dark hair is styled back, exposing his forehead, and he’s wearing a sleek black Prada suit. The scent of his cologne lingers in the air as he approaches, and once again, his eyes lock onto yours, intense and unwavering.

“Here. I hope you like it!” You say eagerly, extending the cup toward him.

“I’m sure I will,” Jongseong replies with a small smile, his fingers grazing yours as he takes the cup from your hand.

And with that, he turns his back and returns to his spot, getting back to his computer just as quickly as he left. You find yourself glued to the way his long fingers move across the keyboard and wonder how they would feel on your skin, gripping your flesh, exploring you, teasing you. You imagine how easily they could reach that spot inside you that you can barely brush against.

Without noticing, your bottom lip gets caught between your teeth. Your coworker notices how still you’ve become and gives you a light push, making you stumble on your feet.

“You're staring. At least be sneaky,” she whispers by your side, a teasing smirk on her thin, dry lips.

“Thank you so much for the advice!” you respond with a fake smile before turning around and heading to the back of the café to take a deep breath.

The storage room carries an unpleasant smell of rot because the forgotten fruits in the wooden basket have started growing mold. You close your eyes and turn your head to the side, feeling a wave of annoyance. Reaching for the basket, you prepare to take it outside to the trash. Your coworker claimed she had thrown them out last week, which was the last time you worked with her, but clearly, she hadn’t.

As you step through the rusty back door, a harsh gust of wind hits your warm face, offering a refreshing relief. You walk unhurriedly toward the back of the building, where the recycling bins and trash cans are located, humming a soft tune to yourself. You open the trash bin and dump the rotten fruits inside, glad to finally get rid of the stench. Being so sensitive to smells, you notice the distinct scent of rain in the air and know it’s about to start pouring.

As you stand outside, watching the heavy clouds roll across the sky, you feel the first cold drops land on your hair. The raindrops are thick and heavy, soaking your uniform as you close your eyes and tilt your head up, savoring the cool comfort they bring. But after a few seconds, the sensation shifts. You no longer feel the rain hitting you, but instead, you sense the presence of someone standing very close.

You open your eyes slowly and are met with the sight of the tall, handsome man from the café, holding a large black umbrella. His eyes travel across your face, confusion flickering across his sharp features. He takes in your appearance, your dark lashes heavy with rain and your lips stained a deep, bloody red. There’s something about you that draws him in, something he can’t quite place.

“What are you doing out here in the rain?” Jongseong asks, his voice breaking the silence beneath the umbrella, contrasting with the relentless sound of the rain pounding against it.

You stay quiet for a few seconds, your eyes tracing the sharp angles of his jawline now that he’s so close. His lips look even more tempting up close, a perfect balance of pouty and full. You wonder why the universe keeps gifting you these small, perfect moments with him, but you’re grateful all the same.

“I needed to throw away some spoiled fruit,” you explain, his gaze burning into you as if he’s trying to memorize every detail of your face.

“Then shouldn’t you hurry inside instead of standing out here in the rain?”

There’s a teasing edge to his voice, but it also feels like gentle scolding. You try to come up with a reason for lingering besides the simple desire to feel the cool rain against your heated skin. After all, he’s the reason your body feels so warm, his presence and his intoxicating scent clouding your senses.

“I’m going,” you joke, your eyes locking with his one last time before you turn and run toward the back door. You feel his gaze on you the entire way until the heavy metal door closes behind you.

Jay smiles to himself at your adorable reaction, feeling more intrigued than ever. Standing there in the pouring rain, he tells himself he has to come back every day just to catch a glimpse of your pretty face—and maybe, just maybe, get to know you better.

Jongseong comes back the next day, hoping to admire you for a while before starting his work. The city's streets are bustling, and since the café is in the heart of the city, the walk there isn’t long. He smiles as the front of the café comes into view, the blooming bushes swaying gently with the wind.

To his surprise, when he steps inside the cozy place, he isn’t met with your familiar face. Instead, two different girls are working. They smile as soon as he walks in and greet him politely.

“Hello, what can I get for you today?” one of them asks, but Jay finds his mind elsewhere.

“Maybe an espresso to go, please,” he responds just as politely, a small smile on his lips.

“In what name?” she asks, her fingers gripping the black marker, waiting for his answer.

“Jongseong, please.”

She writes his name down and proceeds with the payment. Jay fights a battle inside his head, curious about where you are and whether you’re okay. Should he ask about you? Would that be weird? You’ve only spoken twice, aside from exchanging a few glances. But before his brain can stop him, his mouth moves on its own. As his hand wraps around the warm cup, he asks:

“Do you know if your coworker who worked yesterday is okay?” The words leave his mouth, and he immediately cringes. What a stupid question.

“Hmm, yesterday? Who worked yesterday?” the girl asks the other barista making the drinks.

“It was YN and Munhee, but I think they’re okay. Today’s their rest day,” the girl responds while shaking a cup. Her eyes flick briefly to Jay and then back to her friend.

“Maybe you’re curious about YN? Since Munhee has a boyfriend…” the girl teases with a smile. “YN works on Mondays, Tuesdays, Thursdays, Fridays, and Saturdays. Don’t tell her I told you this, please!” she adds with a playful pout.

Jay can’t help but smile. “Thank you, and don’t worry. I won’t tell her anything!” he assures them with a last bow and a warm smile before leaving the café.

As he walks away, he reflects on how easy it was to get that information. Don’t they know it’s not safe to share their coworker’s schedule with strangers? Who knows what someone could do with that knowledge? Thankfully, Jongseong only wants to see you more often.

He still remembers the first few times he saw you. You were always smiling and polite, helping your coworkers and keeping an eye on the customers to make sure they were comfortable. The first time you made eye contact was when you noticed him putting on his jacket and turned the AC on, adjusting the temperature just enough to be comfortable.

Jay admired you from afar, his eyes drawn to the curve of your lips as you smiled at him, a quiet acknowledgment. That small, thoughtful act was what made him want to keep coming back, hoping for just a little more of your warmth. It’s nothing more than a quiet admiration, or so he tells himself.

Today is Saturday, and the coffee shop is busier than normal, and as you pace back and forth behind the counter, the sun shines beautifully outside. The light reflects inside the place and spreads a comfortable warmth, despite the chaotic environment.

This time, because your coworker is new, she is taking orders, and you are making the beverages. The drinks today seem to be oddly specific, with numerous variations and additions, causing you to take longer to prepare them. And to your luck, the new hire is also making mistakes when adding the extras, forcing you to remake multiple drinks.

You can feel the sweat forming on your forehead as time goes by and the customers' unsatisfied glares burn into your back. The stress makes your body feel warmer, and your hands start to tremble, exhaustion taking over. Today was also the day you opened the store, and now this rush hour is dangerously close to the time you clock out.

You didn’t even notice him, but he was there the whole time, sitting in his usual spot by the window, calmly sipping his coffee while occasionally glancing in your direction, hoping you would finally see him. But that never happens.

Jay lifts his head from his computer and tries to glance your way, and that’s when he notices something is wrong. His fingers slowly take his earphones off, and he is met with a loud male voice, shouting and making exaggerated hand movements toward you. You stand there with your hands behind your back, head facing down, listening to the man’s insults.

“This is an unacceptable thing to happen!” the man says louder, his eyes scanning the room to make sure everyone is watching. “If you’re that bad at making drinks in this stupid job, maybe do something else!” he jokes with a disgusting smirk, his eyes now traveling up and down your figure. “With a body like that, the OnlyFans site would be grateful to have—”

Before he can finish his sentence, Jongseong is right by his side, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt. Jay holds it tight, making sure the man can barely breathe. Jongseong’s body is shaking from the sudden adrenaline, but he wouldn’t just stand there and watch that son of a bitch make fun of you.

“If you can’t accept that mistakes happen, you better stop coming to coffee shops,” Jay says, mocking the man’s words.

“She spilled cheap coffee all over my expensive suit!” the man fires back, glaring at Jongseong.

“That doesn’t give you the right to harass her, asshole.” Your Savior’s gaze quickly flickers toward you, making sure you’re okay.

Jay finally releases the man’s collar, causing him to stumble back slightly. As if accepting his defeat, the man turns his back and walks out, leaving a heavy atmosphere behind. Your eyes are visibly watery, and Jay hates it more than he can confess. As his gaze lingers on you, the customers slowly return to their own bubbles.

“Are you okay?” he asks in a low voice, his eyes carefully searching your face for any sign of discomfort.

“Yeah, thank you,” you respond with a shaky voice, your cheeks turning pink. “I leave in thirty minutes… so I can handle it.” Your eyes hesitantly meet his, hoping he understands the message behind your words.

“Good,” Jongseong responds simply, offering you a final smile before turning around and walking back to his usual spot.

Those thirty minutes feel like hell, your brain shaming you for telling him that information, judging you for being too easy. Thankfully, the customers start to leave, and the pace finally slows down. Your new coworker seems scared for her life, turning quiet after the incident.

“You okay?” you ask her as you step by her side, with no more drinks to make. She tries to give you a small smile.

“I’m fine… that just caught me off guard. I didn’t know people could be this mean to someone who’s just working,” she says softly.

“It doesn’t happen often,” you try to assure her, softly patting her shoulder. “It’s finally one p.m., and Munhee’s already here, so I’m leaving. Keep up the good work, and don’t worry about the mistakes they make on the first days.” You try to ease her mind before leaving, knowing how annoying Munhee can be.

Your eyes scan the room in the hope of seeing Jongseong, but he’s nowhere to be found. He left? You wonder, feeling a pang of disappointment.

The changing room feels cold as you strip off your uniform, but the memory of the warm day outside makes you smile, already coming up with different plans to fill the rest of your day. As you pull on your red, lacy top, your mind wanders back to Jay.

Where could he be? Why was he here every day you worked? Was he rich? Did he have a wife? Where does he work? What does he do? This might seem a little obsessive since you barely know him, but you can’t deny that over the past few days, there’s been a spark every time you spoke, and it made your heart jump in excitement.

You grab your black purse and grip your phone in your hand, thinking about investigating him on Instagram. Maybe you could find his account and start answering your questions there. But as you push open the heavy back door, you’re met with someone leaning against the wall.

“Sir, you can’t be here,” you begin, but when your eyes fully take in his features, the rest of your words die in your throat. “Jongseong?” you manage to let out, your heart once again speeding up.

“Hey, Y/N. You said you were leaving in half an hour, so… I waited here.”

He has a soft smile on his lips as he looks at you, waiting for your answer.

“I thought you didn’t get the memo. I looked around for you, and I didn’t see you,” you explain, feeling a little embarrassed by your honesty.

“I didn’t want the people to see me leave with you,” Jay says as he starts walking toward the main street.

You don’t like the way he says that, and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t bother you. A heavy silence settles between you as you walk down the main street, people pacing around, busy with their usual Saturday routines. Suddenly, your stomach growls, making Jay turn his head in your direction.

“You hungry?” he asks, glancing at you with a soft curiosity.

Your knees almost buckle under his intense gaze. “Yeah… I didn’t have time to eat before I left,” you confess, turning your head to the side in hopes that he doesn’t catch your flushed cheeks.

“Let me get you something to eat,” Jongseong offers, his hand gently brushing against yours, his index finger softly tracing your skin.

Following the delicious smells drifting down the street, you soon find yourself at the local market. The road is lined with food stalls stretching into the distance, and the sight immediately makes you smile. It had been a busy day at work, and you genuinely hadn’t had time to eat.

As your eyes scan the shops, Jay disappears from your side for a few minutes, and you watch him from afar, asking the nice old lady for a portion of food. When he starts walking back in your direction, you recognize the small portion of tteokbokki.

“Here, eat this while we look for a shop with full meals,” Jay instructs, handing you the small plate. The spicy smell hits your nose, and you close your eyes, savoring it.

“I love tteokbokki so much!” you say with a wide smile while looking at Jay. “Thank you so much!” As you shift the plate to your right hand so you can start eating, Jay walks behind you.

His long, bony fingers gently gather all of your hair, and then he ties it in a low bun with a hair tie. He takes his time, making sure the hairstyle looks as perfect as you. Slowly, you look over your shoulder and are met with his confused face as he studies your hair. When he feels your eyes on him, his gaze moves from your strands to your face.

“Gotta make sure you don’t get this beautiful hair dirty while eating,” he says, as if he were reading your mind.

The butterflies spreading in your stomach make you sure that maybe you are starting to develop a crush on him and his sweet demeanor. He comes back to your side and slowly starts walking, watching you while you eat the spicy rice cakes eagerly. Jongseong isn’t sure what’s making him act like this with you. He never does this with anyone, but you feel different.

As you walk past the people also looking for something to eat, you let the familiar noise help calm your racing heart, feeling like a kid with a crush. The last rice cake enters your mouth just in time, and Jay throws the plate in the trash while his eyes scan the shops, wondering which one you would like.

“Stay here. I’ll get it,” you tell him, smiling.

“No, wait—” He stops you, his right hand gently wrapping around your wrist. Your eyes travel to his hand, scanning his fingers for a sign of a wedding ring. But you can’t find anything. “Let me do it for you.”

“No, there’s no need for you to pay for my food, Jongseong,” you insist, trying to push his hand away from your skin.

“I want to,” he responds in a stern voice, eyeing your face. Jay loves the way his name rolls off your tongue, as if you were spelling out each syllable carefully just to affect him.

You press your lips together and roll your eyes, wanting badly to give in, but still feeling guilty about it. Jongseong’s other free hand gently taps yours, and his fingers leave your wrist right after. You watch as he walks up to yet another small shop and buys you a steaming bowl of bibimbap. He walks back to you as fast as he left, a smile on his face.

“Here you go. I hope you like it,” Jay says softly, his eyes affectionate as he hands you the warm food. “It’s almost two thirty. I have to go back to work. I’m sorry I couldn’t stay longer, YN.”

You gaze at him, hypnotized, hating how much you love the way your name sounds in his voice. Then you realize you’ve never actually told him your name. But before you can ask, you remember that your uniform has a name tag, and maybe that’s how he knows.

“You work on Saturdays too?” you ask, a little disappointed.

“Yeah. Being a lawyer isn’t as easy as it may seem. I have to study the case before court,” he explains, his right hand reaching for your cheek and gently caressing it.

“I’ll see you on Monday,” he assures you, furrowing his eyebrows and looking down at you.

Another thing that makes you weak is his height and how much taller he is compared to you. “See you,” you wave at him as he starts walking away, blending into the big crowd of people.

You’ve never done this before, and you never thought you ever would, but all the mystery around Jay makes you curious. What he told you still hangs in your mind. Why didn’t he want people to see him with you? That must mean he has something to hide.

So, before you even realize it, you find yourself following his steps through the crowd. He seems to be in no rush, walking slowly along the busy streets like he has all the time in the world. You eat the bibimbap as you follow him, taking time to lean against a wall to hide every time he looks back or makes a turn.

Your heart beats faster the longer you go after him; the suspense of finding out something is making you nervous. As he crosses the road, you throw away the empty bowl and wait a few seconds before crossing it too.

From your hiding spot near a public bathroom, you watch him walk inside a big building covered in glass. The large letters outside spelling “Law Firm” confirm that his job is indeed being a lawyer. You slowly walk toward the building, taking your time to avoid running into him. You’re not sure what you’d do or say exactly if you did, but you can’t stop now. Not when you’re so close.

As you step inside the place, you’re met with a security pass just ahead. Behind it, a large coffee spot spreads out, with brown and white sitting areas and sofas. As your eyes scan the place, you notice a big sign saying they’re looking for a new manager for the coffee area, and a small smirk grows on your lips.

Is there any better way to get closer to Jongseong than working in the same building as him?

The next few days at work pass by surprisingly fast. Since it's officially summer, the coffee shop is always filled with happy teens asking for refreshing drinks. During the four days you’ve worked, Jongseong comes around just in time to see you get to work or a few moments before you leave, but this week he never kept you company after work.

You felt kind of disappointed about it, wanting to talk to him more and more every day, but he was always there at the café, waiting for you to call his name so you could hand him his drink. And every time you did, he’d walk over with that precious smile, making butterflies swirl in your stomach. Jay’s fingers would linger on yours every time you passed him the cup, causing a faint pink blush to paint your cheeks.

Sometimes, when the café was calm, you’d pretend to clean the tables near him just so you could admire him, mesmerized by his prominent jawline and expensive clothes. Other times he’d call for you, pretending he needed something, just so you’d come over to his table and talk to him. Jongseong would ask about your day, scold you if you hadn’t eaten yet, and always flash you his beautiful smile and those small dimples.

Of course, he was unaware of the days you followed him back to his workplace, unaware of how you weren’t exactly as innocent as he thought. This week, you’d started taking photos of him, carefully, of course. He was clueless about how you admired those pictures in your bed late at night, drowned in thoughts of him. Every time you lay down and closed your eyes, you could hear his voice saying your name in a needy tone; you could imagine his long fingers tracing your thighs and making you scream his name.

That handsome face of his—you wanted to see it contort in pleasure so badly. Or maybe in pain, as you sink your teeth into his flesh and mark him up so everyone knows he’s yours. Every time Jay asked if you slept well, you always said yes with the biggest smile on your lips.

Today you were working with your work-bestie, Jihyo, who was always funny and matched your energy at work. As you spoke to Jay, her eyes stayed glued to the two of you. She found it adorable how shy you became when he was close, but as Jihyo observed his face more carefully, she realized he was the man from the other day, the one who’d asked about you.

Something inside her stirred, and she felt sick. Call it a bad omen, but she wasn’t as happy to see you with him anymore, realizing how creepy the whole thing seemed. When you started walking back with a tray filled with empty cups, she ran to your side to help you load them into the dishwasher.

“I have something to tell you,” she said in a low voice, her tone hinting that something was wrong.

“I have something to tell you too!” you added with a bright smile, completely missing the worry on her face.

“I’m serious, Y/N…” Jihyo said sternly, her fingers tightening around a cup. “That guy you were talking to—he came here last week asking about you. At first, I thought he knew you from somewhere and was going to tell me something about you, but he didn’t even know your name. I had to tell him. The new hire mentioned you were on your rest day, and I told him that.”

She explained, pushing the dishwasher door closed. You looked at her with furrowed brows, not understanding where she was going with this.

“So I told him your schedule. I didn’t mean to, but it just happened. Munhee told me he’s been here every day just to see you. Isn’t that creepy?” she asked, her eyes wide as she looked into yours.

“Creepy? No!” you giggled. “He’s just interested in me and trying to impress me.” She didn’t like your answer.

“No, listen to me. It wouldn’t be weird if he came from time to time… but every single day you work?” Jihyo insisted, that bad feeling stirring inside her once again.

“I think it’s kind of hot, honestly. Relax,” you told her, giving her a side hug. “I know how to take care of myself, and besides, I like him too.” Jihyo wanted to believe you, wanted to ignore the heavy sense of dread sitting in her chest, but it was too much.

Still, she forced a small smile. “Well, you know I’m always here if you need me,” she added, and you made a cute pout before giving her a real hug.

“Aw, you’re so cute! I know you are; that’s why I want to tell you something!” you teased, excitement lighting up your face. “I’m going to be a manager!” you announced, and Jihyo’s face lit up with the biggest smile you’d ever seen.

“Oh my god, girl! I’m so proud of you!” she exclaimed.

“Yeah, but don’t get too excited… because it won’t be here,” you said, watching her expression shift. “It’s in a big building, a law firm. They have this massive coffee shop area, and the pay is wonderful!”

She stayed silent.

“Come on, Jihyo! Say something,” you pleaded, batting your eyelashes at her.

“I’m happy for you, girl, but… this whole thing… it has a weird vibe,” she confessed, still trying to keep her smile.

“It’s going to be fine~!” you said, brushing off her concern before turning your back to check on the new customers waiting at the counter.

You didn’t notice the horrified look on Jihyo's face when she realized Jay had been standing by the counter the entire time — his eyes locked on hers as she voiced all of her concerns. When her gaze met Jongseong’s, his stare was intense and uncomfortable. The charming and sweet aura he usually carried was gone. The way his eyes darkened made him look like a complete psychopath, and a shiver ran up her spine.

Quickly, she turned her back on him and hurried to the backroom, needing a deep breath before returning to the front. But the image of Jongseong’s deadly stare was already engraved in her mind.

Walking down the usual street today makes you feel emotional, knowing it’s your last day working in this place. Memories cross your mind, and you remember all the good days at work, the laughter, and the fun you shared with your coworkers. A small smile grows on your lips, but it doesn’t last long. When you walk into the café, you notice how empty it is despite it being a Saturday.

The day outside is warm and bright, spreading positivity that should motivate people to leave their homes, yet only a few customers are sitting inside, chatting quietly. Your eyes meet Munhee’s, and she gives you a fake smile, as if silently saying you should have come in earlier. You return a forced smile.

Since it’s so quiet and slow, you tell her to stay behind the counter while you grab some cleaning supplies to give the coffee machine a deep clean. To your surprise, she agrees without protest. So you busy yourself with the mission of scrubbing every inch of the machine while vibing to the music playing from the speakers.

Two hours later, the place is still somehow deserted. Your eyes scan the few customers inside, and you realize Jongseong hasn’t shown up yet. Maybe he won’t come today, and if he doesn’t, you won’t get to tell him it’s your last day. You hadn’t mentioned it before because you wanted it to be a surprise, but since he hadn’t waited for you after work this week, you never got the chance.

As your mind drifts, you remember how strange he looked yesterday. When you left work around lunchtime, you grabbed a quick bite and waited near the building where he works. But to your surprise, he didn’t leave until nine p.m., looking exhausted and maybe a little sick. His skin was paler than usual, and you watched him sneeze a few times before getting into his car.

Perhaps he’s taking a sick day, you think. With that thought in mind, you try to keep yourself busy, cleaning everything within reach. After the coffee machine, you tackle the pastry display, then the inside windows, the tables, and even the floor. Sweat forms on your forehead as you proudly admire the spotless windows, not a single fingerprint in sight.

You find yourself standing in the middle of the room when your eyes catch the TV, where an elderly woman is crying, pleading for her missing daughter to come home. The sight brings back memories of the girl who disappeared weeks ago. Tears well up in your eyes at the woman’s desperate words, so you quickly look away, trying to regain your composure.

With your shift almost over and hunger setting in, you grab a chocolate muffin and head to the back for a quiet moment. But your peace doesn’t last long.

“That weirdo stalker guy you like is here. He’s outside,” Munhee announces with a smug smile.

“Don’t you think you should worry more about your own creepy boyfriend? It’s weird how you pretend he’s not a whole thirty-five-year-old dating a nineteen-year-old,” you snap back, tired of her constant jabs.

Truth be told, her comments about Jay have been grating on your nerves for days. The second the words leave your mouth, her face twists in shock, clearly not expecting you to bite back.

“He’s not a creep! I’m not a minor!” she shouts as you head toward the back door, refusing to engage any further.

Outside, Jongseong stands against the wall, looking more casual than usual. He’s wearing a sleeveless shirt and sweatpants, and your eyes trail over his toned arms, following the line of his muscles until he notices you.

“Hey,” he greets you, his voice deeper than usual.

“Hey. What’s up with you?” you ask, pretending not to know he’s sick.

“Caught a cold. Not sure why,” Jay explains, his gaze fixed on you. “You’re not done with work yet?”

“No, but only ten minutes left,” you reply with a grin, your eyes drifting to his neck.

“I’ll wait here,” he assures you.

You nod and slip back inside, closing the rusty back door behind you. The last ten minutes pass quickly as you put the cleaning supplies away and wash your hands.

“I’m leaving,” you inform Munhee, untying the knot of your apron.

“No, you’re supposed to close!” she whines, but you just flash her a smile.

“I don’t care. Goodbye,” you reply, heading toward the changing room. Before you disappear, you add one final jab. “Oh, and tell your boyfriend I’d never sleep with him, no matter how much he begged the last time.”

The way her face flushes with rage makes you laugh as you slip away. Quickly, you change into your long black dress and boots, leaving the uniform behind for good. When you step outside again, Jay is standing right by the door. His eyes rake over your figure, taking in the way the soft fabric of your dress hugs your curves.

“Shall we go?” he asks, extending his hand.

You nod and let him take your hand; his fingers warm around yours.

“Where are you taking me?” you ask with a smirk, your other hand clutching your purse.

“I thought we could grab something delicious at the local market. Like last time,” he suggests, glancing at you.

“Sounds good. But you’re not going to ditch me this time, right?” you tease, pouting up at him.

“I won’t leave, princess. I promise,” Jay assures you, his dark eyes softening with affection.

Your face lights up with a wide smile as you stroll alongside him, the silence between you feeling warm and comfortable. You take in the busy street, the hum of conversations, and the scent of street food filling the air.

As Jongseong’s eyes wander over the bustling city, you wonder what’s going through his mind. He always looks so composed and serious, but when he looks at you, his entire face softens. That change in him is what draws you in the most. He’s unreadable.

“What are you feeling today? Rice or noodles?” he asks, stopping in the middle of the road to admire your face.

“Hmm… maybe noodles,” you say thoughtfully, your eyes meeting his.

Jay nods, his lips curling into a small smile. “Let’s see what options we have.” His eyes scan the line of food stalls ahead. “Oh, what about rabokki?” he suggests, and the way your face lights up tells him he’s made the right call.

This time you and him walk together to the small shop and sit down on the plastic chairs while waiting for the food to be ready. You rest your chin in your hands and look at Jay once again, analyzing every inch of his handsome face. Then, a question pops into your head:

“Can you tell me a bit more about yourself? We've been talking for weeks, and you didn't even tell me your age,” you say.

Jay presses his lips together and rubs his hands, seeming a little embarrassed. “I’m not half as interesting as you think I am. But you are right. I’m 25, I am a lawyer, and I’m single. Otherwise, I wouldn't be here with you.”

“Hmmm, a loyal man, I see. I like those,” you joke, earning a laugh from him. “I’m 23, a very skilled barista, and I'm also single,” you share.

Jay admires the way your lips curve into a smile as you speak, making your cheeks look fuller. He might seem laid back and confident, but the way you are making him question things about himself kind of scares him. You're so cute and hardworking… such an angel.

His thoughts are interrupted by the voice of the old lady saying that the food is ready. Proving once again how much of a gentleman he is, Jongseong gets up from his spot and reaches for the two hot bowls, setting them on the table. For drinks, you both choose a Coca-Cola can and get some kimchi on the side.

Silence sits with you at the table as you both start to eat, but despite not talking, there is something hanging in the air. You can feel it every time you accidentally lock eyes with Jay. A shot of electricity that you haven't felt with anyone else. You notice every single little movement he makes as you eat—the way he grips his chopsticks and the way his free hand gently holds the bowl.

“I need to tell you something,” you say in a low voice, your eyes nervously avoiding his.

“Tell me.”

“I quit my job, and I'm starting somewhere else,” you finally disclose.

Jay flashes you a smile.

“That is great! Why are you acting like it's a big deal?” he asks, chewing on a piece of rice cake.

“Well, I won't be able to see you so much.” It is an obvious lie because the place you've been employed is in the same building as his job, but he doesn't know that.

“Oh, that's what worries you?” he adds with a small smirk, teasingly. “We can try to make our schedules align and go out anyway.”

“Maybe,” you simply say as that weird feeling from the other day spreads across your body.

The words you want to say die in your throat as your body suddenly becomes hyper-aware of what is happening around you. Jongseong notices the way you suddenly turn quiet and finds it strange. As his eyes analyze your face, he sees that you have turned pale.

It seems like you are trying to listen to the girls behind you, your body leaning into them just enough for him to notice. “YN, are you okay?” he asks, concerned, his hand sliding across the table and gently holding yours.

“Yeah… It’s just that the girls behind me are talking about that girl and those men who have been missing for months. And I don't know why, but every time I think about them, I feel sick,” you explain, nervously swirling around the little bit of noodles you have left.

You don't notice how his face turns cold as you talk about the missing people. Your eyes are busy looking at your food. But Jay’s jaw tightens, and his skin becomes warmer.

“YN, I would never let anyone come near you to hurt you,” Jongseong tells you, his eyes serious and dark as he gazes into your face, looking at your eyes. “I can protect you. You don't need to be scared.”

You finally lift your face and look into his eyes, but they barely offer any comfort. Instead, they make your throat close. “Thank you,” you manage to say, pulling away from his hand. “Can we leave? I’m feeling suffocated,” you ask him, but it sounds more desperate than you intended.

Jay nods his head and stands up to go pay for the meal. After that, he signals you to walk in front of him as he slowly follows behind, his hand barely resting on your lower back, trying to offer you some comfort. When you are finally back on the main road, the fresh air feels incredible as you take a deep breath, but the discomfort from before is still present.

Not understanding what your body is trying to tell you, you try to come up with an excuse to go home. Soon enough, you find one.

“Thank you so much for the meal, but I'm feeling exhausted. I think I need some rest,” you explain, stopping your walk to look at Jay, whose eyes haven't left your frame for one second.

“Sure, princess, I can take you home if you want.” Jongseong suggests.

“No, it's okay. You're sick; maybe it's better you go rest too!” you deny his request, needing to be alone to process what you are feeling.

“Alright, as you wish,” Jongseong adds in a sweet tone, his hand reaching out for your face so he can caress your cheek.

You close your eyes and lean into his palm, the feeling of his touch burning your skin in the best way possible. As you open your eyes, you observe the little dimples on his cheeks as he smiles at your cute reaction.

“Maybe you can give me your number?” Jay asks, scratching the back of his neck. “I mean… I just want to know if you're okay when—”

“Of course I can, dummy. Here.” You reach for your phone and show him your number. He quickly grabs his cellphone and types in your contact information. Then he calls you for a few seconds so you can save his number too.

“Text me when you get home,” he adds sweetly as he leans forward and plants a small kiss on your forehead.

Your cheeks feel warm all over again, his manly demeanor putting you under his spell. You don't say anything else; just wave at him and start your way back to your place, your heart still jumping happily at the faint sensation of his kiss on your skin.

Later, when you get home, you quickly text him, “I’m home, Jay,” and then run to your bathroom to take a long, hot shower. You use that time to think about what you felt and what your next step will be since you've got the job at the same place as him. These feelings that you have for him are much more than just a crush. You crave him. You want to know every single detail about him. You want to be the center of his world, and you want him only for yourself.

As you start to dry your damp body, your phone vibrates, signaling that Jongseong has responded to your text: “I’m glad, princess. I’m also at home. My body feels heavy, so I'm going to sleep. Have a good rest of the day!” You read the message, and a smile automatically grows on your lips at the nickname.

Deep down, you want to pursue this relationship normally, but you can't help but want to know more about him as fast as possible. If he ever found out you follow him almost every day and that you got this job just to be closer to him, he would probably be freaked out and leave. But you would never let that happen.

When Monday rolls in, you jump out of bed with extra energy, excited to start this new job. You did apply to be closer to Jay, but the opportunity is genuinely attractive. Being the manager can't be much different from what you've done before, since you used to be responsible for the café all the time due to the many months you'd worked there.

So, you put on a black suit and a thin white blouse with the first two buttons undone, exposing your chest. On your feet, you wear some comfortable low heels, and you put on your favorite perfume. Causing a good first impression is the most important part. With one last look in the mirror, you leave your apartment and take the subway that drops you closer to the building.

Stepping inside the familiar building feels good; the thrill of the challenges makes you speed up with excitement. As soon as the doorman sees you, he comes by and hands you your key card so you can finally have access inside. On the other side of security, an older lady is waiting to show you around the whole coffee space.

She excitedly shows you around, starting with the sitting area and then moving to the kitchen. It’s equipped with the latest machines and hardware, making you wish you'd come here earlier. After the tour, you have a meeting to discuss your duties and meet all the employees, who are girls in their early twenties. They seem responsible and hardworking, and that’s all they need to be to keep you satisfied.

Lunchtime comes faster than you realize, and soon the entire morning is over. As you sit inside the small office behind the kitchen, you notice you haven't eaten anything yet, so you walk to the counter and snatch a small slice of apple pie and an iced coffee. But before you can turn around and go back to your office, a familiar voice calls out to you:

“YN? What are you doing here?” Jongseong asks, surprised, his eyes admiring your frame.

“I work here.” You watch as his face turns confused.

“Wait, the place you told me about is… here?”

“Yeah.” A silence settles for a few moments before you remember you need to act like you didn’t know he was going to be here. “Wait, what are you doing here?”

“I work here too. I mean, in the offices above, but yeah.” You open your mouth, faking surprise.

“There is no way! This has to be destiny,” you joke, smirking at him.

Jay shakes his head and smiles. “Yeah, let’s call it destiny.”

“I have to go back to work. There’s a bunch of paperwork to go through,” you complain, trying your best to sound bored.

“I understand. I’ll see you around.”

You wave at him one last time before walking back to the office. Closing the door behind you, you sit down on the tall chair, your mind making new plans to learn just a little more about your crush. Jay looked extra good today, wearing a full black suit and shirt, complementing his black hair. While your mind wanders back to his handsome face, you find yourself working automatically.

The rest of the day passes by incredibly slowly, and by the third hour alone in the office, you decide you need somewhere else to work. So, you grab your stuff and walk to the sitting area of the café, choosing a corner seat with a clear view of the exit so you can see when Jongseong leaves.

Just as you predicted, Jay appears at the exit a few hours later, and when his eyes meet yours, he waves goodbye and leaves. You know exactly how long it takes him to get to his car—four minutes—so you stand up, clear your stuff, and leave the building.

Today is the day you find out where he lives.

Since you came by subway, you need to find a taxi soon, and as if the universe is on your side, an old man stops right by you. You get inside and ask him to follow Jay’s car, faking a story that he’s your husband, and you think he’s cheating on you. The poor old man swallows your story and eagerly follows Jay. A few minutes pass, and as Jay starts parking, you tell the kind old man to drop you off. He shows you a sympathetic smile and tells you to be strong.

You leave the taxi with a stupid smile, not believing how well you lie. From the corner of the street, hiding behind a tall brick wall, you watch Jay grab his usual work bag and walk toward a very luxurious house, tall trees lining the front gate and surrounding the property. How can a lawyer afford this kind of house? You wonder. There is something he isn’t telling you.

Patiently wait for him to get inside the house before slowly crossing the street and walking closer. Curiously, you take a stroll around the house, your eyes carefully analyzing each door and window, making sure to avoid being seen. You catch a glimpse of him in the living room, taking off his blazer and then throwing himself onto the sofa, legs spread and shirt half unbuttoned.

The sight makes your body heat rise and your mouth water. Jongseong always looks so manly and confident, causing your obsession to grow. You leave him for a few moments to study the area and think about a good place to park your car next time you come to see him. You didn’t drive today, so he wouldn’t recognize your car if he ever spotted it while you were watching him.

You don’t like to call it stalking. You’re just looking after him, making sure he isn’t lying to you about his life. Your eyes dart up to the sky, and you realize it’s getting dark. For your safety, you decide to head home and be done for the day. You take one last round around the house before leaving, and to your surprise, Jay is no longer visible in any of the windows. Not even his shadow in the bathroom's opaque glass. Despite finding it a little strange, you start walking down the main road, planning to take the bus back home.

A month passes incredibly fast between learning your new position at work and watching Jay almost every day at his house. You find yourself enjoying managing the café more than you thought you would. Taking care of the employees, making sure everything is well done, and checking the weekly supply orders. It is definitely easier than dealing with rude customers.

You have also surprisingly enjoyed watching Jay eat his dinner at home almost every day while you silently eat something from the outside, as if you are eating together. You notice he has a very strict routine. He comes home, watches TV for an hour, then prepares dinner and eats. After that, he goes to his office, works a little more, and then goes to sleep.

You have watched him undress his work clothes and change into his pajamas a few times, but it still catches you by surprise every time. His body is well-built and proportional for someone who doesn't seem to work out. He has muscular arms and a lean frame. And his Calvin Klein boxers never fail to make you squeeze your thighs together, unable to control your mind from imagining all the possible steaming scenarios with him.

You can almost see yourself on your knees in front of his king-sized bed, face to face with his boxers, eyes locked on his as he gently brushes your bottom lip with his thumb and forces himself inside your mouth. You wouldn’t mind him being a little rough. All you want is to please him, to watch his face drip with sweat as you work hard to make him cum.

It hasn't been easy to keep your thoughts pure around him since you've been eating lunch together every day. Every time his dark brown irises meet yours, there is an unspoken desire that makes your body shiver. You feel his eyes linger on your chest when you're having a conversation, and the truth is you open an extra button every time he comes around, on purpose to give him a show.

You can also feel his eyes burn into your waist and thighs every time you bend down to get something from the ground, and you love it so much. You love feeling desired by him. You love the feeling of his hungry gaze on you. You're sure he can see how your breathing quickens every time he accidentally brushes against you, pressing his hips into yours when squeezing past the counter to follow you to your office.

The way he always leans in the door frame, his seductive eyes and addicting cologne invading your office, makes it impossible not to think about him even when he’s gone. And today is no different. You're sitting across from him in the building’s cafeteria. The atmosphere is calm and comfortable as the people around you chat and laugh.

As you put a bunch of glass noodles into your mouth, your eyes wander to the big TV on the wall. The same words flash across the screen again, and that unsettling feeling spreads across your body like wildfire. Another man is missing. That makes it three people in three months. Your mind wanders to how the police are doing absolutely nothing to look for them, just showing their faces in hopes someone has seen them.

“They should probably start looking for their dead bodies, no?” you comment in a low voice, your eyes now flicking in Jay’s direction.

“What?” he asks, sounding uninterested, covering his mouth as he speaks to keep chewing his food.

“The missing men and the girl. They should probably look for their dead bodies, right? I mean, it’s been three months since the first girl went missing.” You explain your point, uncomfortably shoving around the rest of your food.

“Maybe. I don't know,” Jongseong replies, his voice avoidant and deep.

The silence that follows feels suffocating, making it hard to finish your meal, but you eventually do. Jay finishes his food faster than you, then stands up and gives you a quick “see you later” before leaving the table. You find his behavior odd, but you already felt uneasy yourself, so you figure you could also use some extra time alone.

The end of the day rolls by incredibly slowly, and you find yourself exhausted. You consider skipping your usual routine of watching Jay tonight, but something in your gut tells you to go. Despite the exhaustion weighing you down, you change into black clothes and drive to his house.

As usual, you turn off the engine and stay inside the car for a few minutes, making sure he isn’t around, and it’s safe to leave. But as your eyes scan the road, you notice that Jay’s car isn’t in the driveway like it usually is. Intrigued and with a strange gut feeling, you decide to stay right where you are. The tiredness slowly starts to get to you, your eyes growing heavier by the minute.

Just as you’re about to fall asleep, the sound of a car passing by wakes you up. You focus the second you notice it’s Jongseong’s car, but unlike usual, he opens the gates and parks inside his house. You wait just a few more minutes before stepping outside, making sure he’s already in the house when you move.

You walk slowly to the front of the house, making sure no one can see you behind the plants lining the street. Your eyes follow his movements inside, from the hall to the bathroom and then to his bedroom. You glance at your wristwatch and realize it’s already on a.m., and this isn’t normal for Jay. He’s always home by eight and follows the same routine every day.

Outside, you peek around the corner and move to the bedroom side of the house. Between the curtains, you watch him start to undress. He’s wearing something unusual—black pants, a long black T-shirt, and a baggy black hoodie on top. Your brows furrow as your eyes travel along his body. There are dark, sticky stains on the side of his jaw and his forearms. From this distance, you can’t quite tell what it is, but it sends a strange feeling crawling up your spine.

For a brief moment, curiosity gets the best of you, and you lean forward, but you slip and fall against the bushes. You let out a faint, panicked sound, but you think you’re safe. Jongseong is close to the window, his eyes scanning the area, but he doesn’t see you. After a few tense moments, you carefully watch him move back to the center of the room.

Jay never thought he would feel this way, threatened and scared. He’d noticed a different car in his neighborhood, one that was never in the same spot in the morning, but he thought he was just seeing things. Now that he’s seen you, it all makes sense. He can’t believe you would do something like this, after all; he thought you were a naive person.

He knows that if he acts any differently than usual, you’ll probably realize you were seen, so he tries his best to give you a good show. Jongseong starts by slowly taking off the rest of his clothes, letting his hands brush against his bare abs longer than usual. He can’t see you, but he’s sure you’re there because he can feel your eyes on his body.

Jongseong then turns his back to the window and slips his boxers off, something he’s never done before. He takes his time reaching for the clean boxers on his bed, dragging out the moment before sliding them on just as slowly. When they’re finally secured around his waist, he turns back around and stretches, his muscles flexing under his skin.

Maybe he shouldn’t be enjoying this as much as he is, but if you came all the way here, he might as well make it worth it. After his little seductive show, he lays down on his bed and turns off the lights. As his head rests against the cold pillow, he wonders how long you’ve been doing this and how long you usually stay. Despite his tired and sore body, sleep doesn’t come easily, as the strange sensation of being watched still lingers.

After a few restless minutes, Jay figures it’s time to stop hiding the truth and finally tell you everything. Since you seem to be just as crazy as him, it shouldn’t be too hard, right?

The next day, the same routine with Jay follows. He waits for you by the cafeteria door so you can eat lunch together. When you start walking in his direction, he waves and smiles, seemingly happy to see you.

“Hey!” You greet him excitedly.

“Hello, princess.” He responds, matching your energy.

“Did you sleep well yesterday?” You ask as the two of you walk to the center of the cafeteria to grab your food.

Jay glances at your face, and there it is again, the innocence. Your eyes are big and sweet, and your lips curled into an affectionate smile. He can't believe you’ve been following him all this time.

“I didn’t sleep much, honestly. Bad nightmares kept me awake,” he explains as he reaches for a bowl of kimchi soup.

“Nightmares? They’re the worst. I have a lot of them.” You pout, grabbing a bowl as well.

“I know.”

Jongseong’s words make you quickly turn your face in his direction.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, statistically, women are more likely to have nightmares. So I figured you probably have more than me.”

Though he feels like that was a lame excuse, you seem to take it at face value.

Silence settles between you as you find a table and sit down, enjoying the peace. Despite seeming normal, you’re clearly deep in thought. Your eyebrows furrow as you eat, and your lips occasionally press together in a thin line.

“I have something to ask you.” Jongseong says, pulling you from your thoughts. “I’ve been talking for a while, and I was thinking… would you like to come over tonight? Have dinner with me?”

You’re obviously caught by surprise. He can tell by the blush that spreads across your face. Your eyes seem to sparkle under the ceiling lights, like you’ve been dreaming of this for a long time.

“Of course, I’d love that, Jongseong.” You smile, your heart skipping a beat under his dark iris.

“Good. That’s good,” Jay whispers, more to himself than to you.

Don’t get him wrong. He does have second intentions in asking you this. But he’s also genuinely excited to have a moment alone with you. To get to know you better. For you to get to know him better.

The rest of the day passes teasingly slowly, and when the clock finally hits six, you sprint out of the building to get to the subway as fast as possible. You’re finally taking a step further into the relationship, and you have to make sure you look your best, just for him.

When you get home, you leave your heels at the door and head straight for the bathroom. You take a long shower, using the expensive shampoo that leaves your hair smelling divine for days, and lathering yourself in a floral-scented body wash. You want him to lose himself in you the moment he gets close enough to breathe you in.

After the shower, you carefully dry your hair and style it with loose curls. Then, you put on the black dress that has been sitting in the back of your closet for years. It’s made of a thin, slightly heavy material that clings to your curves despite its loose fit. To finish, you slip on your red bottoms and fasten a dainty silver necklace around your neck.

Checking the time, you realize it’s almost eight, the time Jay asked you to arrive. He sent you his address by text, little knowing how familiar you already are with it. You arrive faster than intended, so you stay in your car for a few extra minutes, reapplying your lipstick and taking a deep breath.

After convincing yourself that you look good enough, you walk to the pavement near his house and send him a text, telling him to come outside since you don’t know which house is his. Jay responds almost immediately and appears within seconds. You watch as he steps out the front door, making his way toward the gate.

“Here, love,” Jay calls to you in the sexiest tone you’ve heard from him yet. You flash him a smile and walk toward him.

Jongseong watches your every move, mesmerized by the way you look. You always look good, but today you really took your time to drive him crazy. His eyes flicker down to your chest as it bounces with each step, lost in the sight of you. He thinks about dragging the truth out just a little longer, just enough to touch you. But he’s waited long enough.

“You look so handsome, Mr. Jongseong.” You flirt as you walk past him, your eyes accentuated by dark makeup.

“You don’t look so bad yourself,” he responds, throwing you one of his signature side glances, the ones he knows make you shy.

And the way you turn your head away to hide a smile? He finds it cute how well he knows you.

You both walk into the house in silence, the tension so thick you could cut it with a knife.

You carefully analyze every detail of the place, finally being able to take it all in up close. As expected, Jay has great taste in interior decor. The house is eclectic yet meticulously clean. As you stepped further inside, the sound of your heels echoed through the empty space, reflecting the rapid beat of your heart.

Suddenly, you feel Jay’s presence behind you, his figure still towering over you despite your heels. You turn your head slightly to the side, trying to follow the movement of his hands. He gently takes hold of your blazer sleeve, his eyes locked onto yours. First, one side slips off, then the other. Soon, he’s holding your jacket in his hands.

You turn to watch him hang it up. “Thank you, Jay,” you say softly. You're breathing unsteady from his faint touch.

“You’re welcome, princess. Shall we go to the kitchen?”

Jay guides you with his hand resting lightly on your lower back. When you step into the modern-style kitchen, you’re caught off guard by the dim lighting, the red rose petals scattered across the table, and the expensive champagne. Your eyes widen at the sight, the romantic gesture making you crave him even more.

“Woah, Jay, this is beautiful!” You exclaim, turning to look at the mastermind behind it all.

He gives you a proud smile, his small dimples appearing. “You deserve all of this.”

Jongseong steps closer, his intoxicating scent invading your senses. His hands settle on your hips, but his eyes never leave yours. The warmth of his touch seeps through your skin, sending heat through your entire body.

“Let’s sit down and eat.” He suggests, his head tilting slightly.

“Sure.” You respond, breathless.

Jay pulls out your chair for you, and your stomach flutters at the gesture. You love these little gentlemanly moves of his. He then circles the table, pouring you a glass of champagne as he begins serving the food.

But suddenly, something inside you shifts. Your breath quickens, and your palms begin to sweat.

What is this feeling?

Deep down, you know. It’s the same feeling that overwhelms you when you see the faces of missing people on TV. A warning. A bad omen.

Jay doesn’t notice the shift in your mood, too focused on making your plate look perfect, wanting to impress you with his cooking skills.

“Can I use the bathroom?” You ask suddenly, standing up a little too fast.

“Sure, it’s down the hall, the door on the right.” He gives you a curious look but doesn’t question it.

He could notice the weird way you were walking, as if your legs felt weak, but he tried to ignore it, wanting to follow his plan. Jay waits patiently for you while sitting down at his table, the hot rice and steak steam hitting his nose and making him hungry. But you were taking longer than you usually do, and he found it strange.

You find yourself lost in that immense corridor, or maybe it was the anxiety that was making it harder. You close your eyes and try hard to remember which side Jay said the restroom was, but it's all gone. The corridor is empty, quiet, and haunted, making goosebumps form all over your skin. Your legs fail you for a few seconds, and your body falls forward, towards the wall.

You use your hands to steady yourself, pressing them against the wall as all the oxygen in your lungs seems to fade away. Just as you thought that things couldn't get any worse, you feel something move under your fingers.

Confused, you knock on the wall a few times, and the sound that it makes is dry and loud, as if there were a room behind it. With a little extra stretch, you seem to press the right place, and a small gap forms on the wall. You take two steps back, unsure of what to do, but your intuition is screaming for you to check it out.

You ponder on the possibility for a few minutes, though your heart is telling you to leave this house and never come back. Despite the desperate pleas of your gut, you decide to slide the door just enough so you can step inside and are faced with stairs going down. Due to the lack of light, you let your right hand slide across the cement wall and go down, steadying your body.

Soon you find yourself inside a large basement. It is still rough, with no color or tiles on the wall or on the ground, just plain gray cement. The smell is unpleasantly clean, and instead of bringing you peace, it makes your stomach twist. As you walk further down, you are faced with a large table and a sink, and as you stroll closer, you realize that there is a small ax resting there. It is all clean, despite a few small red stains on the wooden handle.

A gasp leaves your mouth, and you cover it to try to keep quiet, but it doesn't do much, because when you turn to your side, what you see is even worse.

“What the hell is this?” you whisper to yourself as you step closer.

Before you is a big whiteboard filled with pictures of you and things related to you. You notice a picture of your apartment, one of your car, one of you walking by your main window, and one of your old workplace. As your eyes wander more, you recognize the faces of three people. They are pictures of the missing people, and they have a red cross on top of them.

Your mouth dries out, and your heart starts to beat uncontrollably fast against your rib cage. Fear takes over your body, and you start to shake, the adrenaline pumping hard.

“Oh, you're here already? I thought we were having dinner first.” Jay’s voice says its mocking tone, sending shivers down your spine.

Your head turns to him, and you watch how he slowly walks over to you, his face a mix of seriousness and something else you can't quite identify.

“What... what is all of this?” you stutter, your voice failing you.

“This is my master plan, YN,” Jongseong confesses. “I know you thought you were the one who had this under control, but I did. I made it all happen, princess.”

“I don't... I don't understand. You've been stalking me?” you ask with a strangled voice, your throat closing up.

“It's way more than that. Can’t you see it?” Jay adds, feeling annoyed. “I made everything happen. You getting that job instead of the other girl, coming there every day and letting you work in my company. I even protected you from creeps and evil men. Look.” He pointed at the two male faces. “Can't you recognize them?” he insists, tapping on the photographs hung on the board.

Now that you think about it, you do recognize the three faces. The woman was the girl who was fighting for your position when you applied for the job at the café where you met Jay. The first male face was from the guy who yelled at you at that same café, and the last one was Munhee’s boyfriend.

“What did you do to them?” you ask as tears start forming in your eyes. No, this can't be real; this can't be happening.

“I killed them all,” Jay responded with a smile. “Aren't you going to say thank you?”

“Say thank you... Are you crazy? What the actual fuck?!” you shout at him, tears silently rolling down your cheeks. But to your surprise, Jongseong just smiles as you yell.

“Yes, you should be thankful. If I hadn't killed that girl, you would never have had that job because she slept with the owner to secure it. The man that shouted at you was pleasurable to kill. After all, he was just a creep addicted to porn. And your coworker's boyfriend? It wasn't just a favor to you, but to the world. That fucker was a pedophile. Besides dating a literal barely adult, he had multiple videos of... you know what.”

You remain silent at his words. Though it is horrifying what he did, he kind of... did something good. They weren't exactly good people, and he just got rid of them for you. There is another shift in the atmosphere, and Jay seems to notice it because he steps closer to you and wraps an arm around your waist.

“Jongseong...”

“Don't act like you weren't obsessive over me as well,” he starts. “I saw you the other night when you fell and made that noise that startled me. And I know you followed me all the way to my company and applied to that job just to be closer to me.” Jay shows you a devilish smirk as he watches your cheeks turn red. “I had just killed that pedo when I caught you spying on me. It was a funny coincidence if you ask me.”

“What do you mean,'my company?’ ”You ask, confused.

“I own the building and the advocacy company. I was the one who accepted your candidature for the coffee department.” Jay explains as one of his hands reaches for a stray strand of your hair and puts it behind your ear. “And I did all of this so you can be mine.”

You know this is psychotic and disturbing; you know you should be afraid, and yet you find yourself leaning into his touch.

“I have been yours, Jay. All of this was unnecessary,” you try to reason.

“No, don't you get it? I made you fall for me,” he insists, his hands now holding your face.

“It doesn't matter how it happened. I am yours,” you confess once again, your eyes shifting into something that Jongseong had yet to see.

Slowly, he starts to lean in, his warm breath ghosting against your lips as he holds your face in place. With no more hesitation, his plump lips kiss yours slowly but eagerly. The kiss felt better than all the fantasies you've made in your head, and his tongue was definitely more dominant as it danced with yours, tasting you as if you were his favorite meal. Your hands fly to his hair, and you pull on it gently, earning a sound from him.

“But now, princess,” he whispers against your lips in a low tone, “I have to kill you too since you know all about me.”

Your heart starts beating fast against your rib cage all over again, his indifferent stare making you sweat cold. You open your mouth to say something, but nothing comes out, too stunned to form coherent phrases.

Jay watches the way your features turn to fear in a matter of seconds, and he feels disappointed that you believe his words. After all, would he do all of this just to end up killing you?

“I’m joking, my love. I would never hurt you, never,” he adds with a smirk that worries you more than calms you down. His thumb caresses your cheek lovingly. “But I am serious about something, though. You can never leave this house ever again. After all, no one but you can know about all of this.”

Jongseong plants a small kiss on your forehead, and before you can realize what he said, it is too late. He was several steps away from you, and as you ran up the stairs behind him, he closed the invisible door, locking you inside the basement. Panic takes over your whole body that instant, and you bump against the door with all the strength you have, but it's useless.

As you slump down the door, tears start to form in your eyes, and you break down crying.

Jay listens to your sobs from the other side of the door. And though it makes his heart ache, it's necessary to make sure that you would never tell anyone about what he did. The playlist he made for the night is still playing as he sits down alone in the kitchen and starts to eat. His thoughts travel to the future, where you would freely walk around the house, waiting for him to come back from work so he can take care of you as no one else can.

As he sings the lyrics of the song with the feeling, ‘Love’s the death of peace of mind,’ he finds himself agreeing with them. Because ever since he laid his eyes on you, he was never at peace again.

Taglist: @grandlightcandy @seokseokjinkim @strxwbloody @enhasunghoonishot @contyynishimura @heewanrik @ranwonbin @leanderexists @lovelyyf @youngheejay @crimson-reaper576 @rikifever @mrsjjongstby @laurradoesloveu @babyboomysweetie @mintchocos-things @nxzz-skz @saphiranishimurashan @ikeupups @yangjungwonnie @xiiaobaoo @itsuen @laylasbunbunny @mellowgalaxystrawberry @firstclassjaylee @questionsdearreader @greeyjre @en-doll @riqomi @lovingvoidgoatee @mitmit01 @miuwonis @aureliaaaa555 @han-to-my-minho @heeweenie @vixensss @ro-diares @hoonvinx @immelissaaa @jiryunn @quilevyt @vrusha01 @kkamismom12 @skzenhalove @theothernads @moonpri @nicoleparadas @fightqueen @heesunghooney @starl0ver4 @jooniesbears-blog @k1arar3 @riri-lvs-food @kolawnk @mitmit01 @dummyf @tender-is-the-moon @dksfml @tobiosbbyghorl @loveydoveyez @beomieeeeeeeeeeees @hhyvsstuff @moondooll @enchantedtomeetyou @desistay @filmofhybe

If you wanna be added or removed from the taglist just comment below!

#enhypen #enhypen jay #enhypen imagines #enhypen x reader #enhypen scenarios #enhypen thriller #enha #jay #park jongseong #enhypen angst #jay angst #jat x reader #engene #enhypen smau #slow burn #stalker au #enhypen hard hours #strangers to lovers

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ravewing · 3 days ago

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whirlpool — is he really as awful as the fandom makes him out to be ?

a wings of fire character analysis. minor content warning for mentions of abuse, grooming, pedophilia, and the likes.

whirlpool is, indubitably, the most universally disliked wings of fire character (and by a long shot, too). in the seven years that i've been an active wof fan, i think i've only seen two, maybe three, people say that they can even stand him. ask anyone in the fandom who the "worst character" is; nine times out of ten, they will probably answer, "whirlpool." ask the reason for this, and they will probably reply with something along the lines of him being a pedophile.

but is he?

i would like to note that i am in no way defending whirlpool. he is by no means a morally good, nor redeemable, dragon. i recently reread the lost heir, so i'm trying to approach this with an unbiased, strictly objective viewpoint. this is just my analysis of his character based on what i've heard people say about him compared to his actual character in the novel.

for a character that appears only in one book (two, if you count turtle's brief flashback in talons of power), whirlpool is a character that wings of fire fans just cannot seem to let go. for countless years, whirlpool has been the subject of a wide array of jokes, memes, and is overall used as the fandom's punching bag—and with good reason (at least, to an extent). however, this has, in recent years, quickly downspiraled into blatant pedophilia jokes.

pedophilia is something that, as i've noticed, is seen as "funny" or "quirky" in certain niches of the wings of fire fanbase, especially so on reddit. make a post asking for people to share their favorite ships, and you'll get at least five people saying something like "clay x bumblebee" or "burn x auklet" to be funny. perhaps it's just the fact that most of the people cracking these "jokes" are teenaged redditors, but the fact that pedophilia is watered down to nothing more than "Boiii!😂😂Cursed funny joke🗿🍷" is, without a doubt, an issue. this downplaying of such a heavy topic not only leads to people just blatantly saying insensitive things for a bad jest, but it also results in the people making those jokes becoming desensitized to the severity of the issue.

when something as serious as pedophilia is treated as nothing more than meme fodder or a buzzword to casually throw around, it diminishes the real harm and suffering experienced by victims. and over time, this normalization will blur the line between satire and genuine endorsement and create spaces where predatory behavior is either ignored or, in the worst cases, subtly encouraged under the guise of just being “dark humor.” this kind of discourse can also alienate victims of a genuine real-world issue, which inevitably makes it harder for them to speak out or feel supported in these communities. and while yeah, humor can be a tool to cope with difficult topics, there’s a stark difference between using it to challenge harmful behaviors and using it to trivialize them.

but i'm getting off track.

whirlpool is not a good dragon. he's manipulative, concerned with nothing more than his personal status and wealth, lacks proper seawing etiquette and self-awareness of his patronizing, annoying personality, by all accounts, an awful teacher, and is just overall a condescending know-it-all. he was a one-off pretentious antagonist, and that is all he was ever meant to be.

he serves as queen coral's most trusted advisor in magic and publishing in her council, and, since he's practically bending over to kiss the ground that her talons walk on like a well-trained circus seal, she finds him to be absolutely delightful, intelligent, and just overall a brilliant gift to all the world. considering this, it's no wonder why coral arranged for him to marry anemone in the future.

that's a detail that most people seem to forget. coral is the one who set up the whole anemone and whirlpool thing. of course, this doesn't mean that whirlpool didn't want to marry anemone; it's just that he was only in it so that he could become the future king of the seawings. he is never shown to have any sort of attraction to anemone (nor to tsunami or auklet); he simply views them as pawns in a game that will ultimately result in his seat in a throne. obviously, this is not a good thing. it's implied by anemone that he was essentially manipulating her to use her magic more, thus becoming "evil" and more susceptible to challenge her mother for the seawing crown (and i'm pretty sure that blister was encouraging this, too; the only difference is that her ideal end result would be using anemone as a war weapon to secure her reign over the sandwings). he is a manipulator, but not a pedophile.

when i first read the lost heir in third grade, whirlpool was nothing but just an annoying side character who's only trait was being a boring "erm, ackshually" kind of guy who spent his every waking moment praising queen coral's literary works. obviously, as an eight year old, i didn't fully pick up the more serious underlying tones of manipulation for power, but after re-reading the book many, many times over the course of seven years, i've gathered a much more comprehensive grasp of his character.

the thing is, he just... doesn't have that much depth to him. that's the whole point; he's meant to just be a one-off antagonist that the reader isn't supposed to like. think about it. why would tui intentionally put a pedophile in a book directed towards elementary and middle schoolers? she wouldn't. he's literally just supposed to be annoying and die.

compare him to coral, for instance. yes, whirlpool was awful. but unlike coral, he did not write a scroll about eugenics, treat and harness a dragonet like a literal dog, publicly torture and execute loyal subjects for an accident (that was really coral's brother's fault), threaten to KILL his own daughter (okay, well, he did attempt to murder tsunami, but i think it's also pretty bad to tell your kid that you're going to kill her), neglect over 30 other of his own children, among a bounty of other not-so-great things? no. what i'm trying to say is, people often bash repeatedly on whirlpool with the same three jokes (like, come on, at least make a new joke. like whirlpoop or something i haven't heard that one before) while overlooking awful things that other characters do as well.

people love scarlet, blister, burn, darkstalker, vulture, mastermind, and countless other villains, despite the fact that many of them have done the exact same things as whirlpool or worse (elaboration in like two paragraphs). and there's nothing wrong with liking villains at all (personally i love a ton of wof's villains; i mean, come on, who doesn't?), so long as you're not trying to justify/redeem/defend their actions!!

what i'm trying to say is this:

this extreme vilification of whirlpool relies on literally nothing but exaggeration or outright misinformation. while yes, it is absolutely true that he was manipulating anemone to serve his own ambitions, his interest in marrying her had nothing to do with attraction or pedophilia—it was calculated power play, one arranged by queen coral herself. many people conflate his manipulative tendencies with predatory behavior, but his treatment of anemone was no different than how many other power-hungry characters in wings of fire have used young dragons as pawns in their schemes. this does not make him any less of a bad person, but it is important to distinguish between the two accusations.

another major issue with the fandom’s treatment of whirlpool is the sheer inconsistency in how different villains are perceived. as mentioned earlier, characters like darkstalker, scarlet, and even queen coral have committed arguably worse acts than whirlpool. darkstalker, for instance, manipulated young dragons like moonwatcher, fathom, and his own girlfriend, placed magical compulsions on his own friends, and tried to commit genocide—yet he has a massive fanbase, with many people willing to justify or romanticize his actions. scarlet is a tyrant who tortured innocent dragons for entertainment, but she is often seen as a charismatic, even beloved villain. (i can't lie, i love her too) coral, despite being directly responsible for the forced betrothal of anemone and whirlpool, does not receive nearly as much backlash as he does. why, then, is whirlpool singled out as the worst villain when he is hardly unique in his cruelty?

the answer likely lies in the nature of his character. unlike other villains who are powerful, charming, or entertaining, whirlpool is pathetic. he is not a fearsome warlord like burn or a tragic antihero like darkstalker is meant to be—he is an annoying, self-important sycophant whose ultimate goal is to climb the social ladder by cozying up to queen coral. he is the kind of villain who is easy to mock, easy to laugh at, and easy to pile hatred onto without deeper discussion. it’s the same reason why villains like mastermind or vulture don’t inspire the same level of vitriol—they are manipulative and amoral, but they aren’t written to be particularly cool or interesting in the way that characters like darkstalker or scarlet are.

at the end of the day, whirlpool is a terrible dragon. he is an opportunistic manipulator, annoying, a pathetic wet cat, and an overall detestable character. however, the way the fandom fixates on him, and exaggerated or misrepresents his crimes while ignoring worse actions from other villains, makes me wonder: why do some villains get a "pass" while others are relentlessly mocked? why do people misrepresent certain characters in ways that turn serious topics into joke fodder? and most importantly—why are we still talking about whirlpool, a one-off side villain from a book released over a decade ago, as if he’s the worst thing to ever happen in wings of fire?

side note: i couldn't figure out how to work this in there, but i don't know where the misconception that whirlpool is a super old decaying man came from. is he far too old for anemone? without a doubt. but from what i gathered from reading tlh, it seems like he's implied to be only slightly older than tsunami; somewhere around riptide's age, perhaps. anyhow, thank you for reading my chaotic mess of a character analysis! as a treat (or an abhorrent punishment, depending on the kind of person you are), here are some funny whirlpool expressions. the last two are my favorites .. he looks like he has eyeliner on in the last one lol

#wof #wings of fire #whirlpool wof #anemone wof #coral wof #rave rambles #character analysis

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paishoeyeroh · 2 days ago

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Bearer And The Bound

☰ Pairings: Sukuna x Reader, Slight Megumi x Reader

✧ Summary: When you stumble upon an ancient ring in an abandoned house, you unknowingly bind yourself to a cruel, powerful demon who thrives on torment. Trapped in a reluctant bond and forced to navigate a shared existence, Sukuna plots your downfall while you fight to survive his sadistic games. But as your fates entwine and secrets of Sukuna’s dark past begin to unravel, the lines between enemy and ally start to blur.

✧ Tags: True form Sukuna, Enemies to Lovers, Dark Romance, Demonic Bonds, Heavy Angst, Slow Burn, Sukuna is Bad at Feelings, Possessive Sukuna, Tension, Forced Proximity, Eventual Smut, College/University AU, More Tags To Be Added Later

✧ Status: Ongoing

✧ You can also read it on AO3

☰ CHAPTER TEN: Fracture

Chapter Summary: You push. Sukuna breaks.

☰ Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Sukuna is ignoring you.

At first, you don’t think too much of it, assuming he’s just quiet this morning. You hadn’t seen him since last night, after all, and you figured things might be a little… tense. But by the time you’re sitting through your first lecture, tapping your pen against your notebook in distraction, the truth becomes evident. He’s doing it on purpose.

No odd comments thrown your way, no dry observations, no flickering glances. He follows, because he has to, but he doesn’t acknowledge you once. It’s as though you don’t exist.

You try to push it aside, to focus on your professor’s voice, on the words you should be writing down, but it hurts. There’s no denying that.

There’s really only one explanation for his coldness. Last night. The way you were drawn to each other like magnets. And then, Megumi’s call. A reminder of the one person Sukuna seems to despise, though you’ve never been entirely sure why. He’s never liked Megumi, never tried to hide his distaste. Whatever his reasoning, you know the timing isn’t a coincidence. Whether it was the moment itself or the interruption that followed, it’s clearly bothering him.

And if it’s not? If there’s something else behind his silence? That thought is even more frustrating, because it means you still don’t know what’s going on inside his head at all.

Between classes, you catch sight of a familiar head of pink hair bobbing above the crowd. Yuji. At the sight of him, you remember your conversation with Megumi last night. You decide to call out his name.

He turns immediately, eyes lighting up the second he spots you. A wide grin spreads across his face, and before you can brace yourself, he’s bounding toward you, all but skipping across the hall.

“Hey!” he exclaims, wrapping you in a tight, familiar hug. The embrace is warm, effortless, and you sink into it without hesitation. A real, genuine smile tugs at your lips, one you didn’t have to force. His energy, so bubbly and contagious, fills your insides with light, chasing away the darkness you’ve been carrying all morning.

“I was just thinking about you! Nobara and Megumi are coming over later to hang out. Wanna come?” he tilts his head closer to you, his hand coming up to cup the side of his mouth as he lowers his voice, “there’ll be weed and snaaaacks,” he sing-songs, as if he’s trying to bribe you into coming.

You giggle at his antics, but you feel a tight pang in your stomach at the realization that he’s trying to convince you, probably because he thinks you don’t want to go.

“Alright, I’ll come. But I’m not smoking any of your weed. Not after what happened last time,” you say with a grimace. Yuji’s weed is always incredibly strong, and since you’re not much of a smoker anyway, it had too great of an effect on you the last time you tried it. You don’t even want to think about it. The head spinning. The paranoia. The crying. Not fun.

Yuji throws his head back as he laughs, squeezing his eyes shut tight, and you have no doubt the memory is playing back through his mind.

“Oh yeah! I forgot about that. Good times,” he mocks as his hand comes up to squeeze your shoulder. “Well, just come over whenever after class. Nobara and Megumi are catching a ride with me, so we’ll all be there.” He waves his hand at you as he walks away. “See ya later!”

You find yourself still smiling long after Yuji passes by you in the hallway, his bright and bubbly mood never failing to cheer you up. Tonight is going to be just what you need.

As long as Sukuna behaves with Megumi around.

Your smile immediately falters at the thought. You glance over at him, standing a few feet away leaned up against the lockers, looking in the opposite direction of you. You sigh as you head to your next class.

The rest of the school day goes by quickly, now that you have something to look forward to. As Sukuna continues to neglect your existence, you become more and more certain that he will keep up the charade at Yuji’s place. The thought almost comforts you. Maybe it’ll feel like old times again, before you ever put on that damned ring.

You make your way up to Yuji’s apartment, lightly rapping your knuckles against the door.

It flings open suddenly, and Yuji’s standing there in all his marijuana-induced glory, having clearly started smoking already. His eyes are half-lidded and red rimmed, and there’s a wide, goofy smile plastered across his face as he welcomes you.

“Heeey! Guys, I told you she’d come!” he shouts back to the others, before beckoning you inside. You take a step in, with Sukuna following behind you before Yuji closes the door.

The moment you step inside, the thick, unmistakable scent of weed hits your nostrils. It’s warm in here, cozy in that lazy, indulgent kind of way. The coffee table is a mess of half eaten snacks—open bags of chips, crumpled candy wrappers, a box of cookies that’s already looking dangerously empty. And right in the middle of it all, Yuji’s bong sits proudly, a testament to the night they’ve obviously already been having.

Megumi is sprawled out on the couch, legs spread wide, looking more relaxed than you’ve seen him in months. His head tips lazily toward you, and a slow, lopsided smile spreads across his lips as he greets you. You return it, unable to control the tugging at your lips at the sight of him so at ease for once.

Yuji flops down beside him with a satisfied sigh, stretching his arms over the back of the couch. Meanwhile, you settle onto the floor next to Nobara, who turns to you with a look of pure relief.

“Thank god you’re here. I can’t listen to those two anymore, especially Yuji. I think I can actually feel him making me dumber.”

“That’s not because of me, it’s the weed, idiot,” Yuji quips, ducking to avoid the pillow she throws at his head in response.

You laugh, shaking your head, as you turn back to Nobara. “How’d your date go the other night?”

She immediately rolls her eyes, reaching into her bag of chips and pulling out a handful. “Ugh, don’t even get me started,” she shoves the chips into her mouth, crunching loudly. “First, he didn’t open the door for me. Then, he tried to, like, order my own food for me? And to top it all off, he didn’t even compliment my outfit!” she crushes her bag of chips in her fist in anger.

“So, naturally, I ghosted his ass. I don’t have time for that kind of disrespect.”

“Naturally,” you snort, as Megumi coughs loudly, exhaling a thick cloud of smoke as he takes a rip of the bong. He reaches out, offering it to you.

“Want some?”

You turn to him, shaking your head.

“Nah, I’m good.” you decline, watching him pass the bong to Yuji. As you do, you notice something out of the corner of your eye. It’s Sukuna, and you watch as he rounds the corner, walking out of sight. Probably off to go pout somewhere by himself like a sullen child, you think as you inwardly roll your eyes. You have no intention of dealing with that for the remainder of the night. You quickly turn your head back to the group as Megumi speaks.

“Guys, can we put a different show on?” he asks, his voice strained, almost pleading. He swallows thickly, his gaze locked onto the screen like it’s about to crawl out and grab him. “This one’s freaking me out.”

Yuji squints at the screen, then back at Megumi.

“What? It’s just Pokémon, dude,” he says before he leans forward, studying Megumi like he’s the most fascinating thing in the room. “Are you good?”

Megumi stands shakily, his face pale, quickly making his way down the hall. “I’ll be back,” he weakly mutters over his shoulder.

Nobara and Yuji watch him for a moment, bursting out in simultaneous laughter after the bathroom door slams shut.

“He must’ve smoked too much. He’s probably in there freaking out,” Nobara manages to get out through her wheezes.

“It’s not his fault,” you defend, “Yuji’s weed is way too strong. Last time I smoked with you guys, I convinced myself I was in a simulation.”

You shudder as you recall the memory, but it only encourages another round of cackles from the two.

You watch them for a moment, trying to contain your own laughter. But after what feels like way too long for a regular trip to the bathroom, Megumi still hasn’t returned.

You glance over at Yuji and Nobara, but they’re engrossed in their own conversation. They’ve either forgotten about the situation entirely or are too high to care. Or both. You realize that you’re going to have to be the one to go check on the poor guy.

You stand up with a sigh, preemptively pouring a glass of water in the kitchen before heading down the hall.

As you pass by Yuji’s bedroom, the open door offers a glimpse inside. You glance in casually, only to stop dead in your tracks at what you see.

Sukuna is there.

Flat on his back, sprawled across Yuji’s bed, his chest rising and falling in shallow, uneven breaths. But something’s off.

His upper set of hands are thrown over his face, fingers digging into his forehead, covering his eyes like he’s trying to block out the world. The lower set of hands are clenched into fists, the muscles in his forearms tight, twitching with some kind of barely restrained force. You don’t even have to see his face to know he’s seething. Pure, unadulterated anguish radiates off of him, thick enough to suffocate the air in your lungs.

You watch him for a second, concern twisting deep in your gut. You’ve never seen him like this. Ever. Sukuna does not unravel. But here he is, unraveling right in front of you, completely unaware that he now has an audience.

Your lips part, the start of his name forming on your tongue, but before you can speak, his hands slide up, gripping into his hair with so much force it looks like he might tear it straight from his skull.

You stand in the doorway, mouth open, quickly snapping it closed when you notice the look on his face.

His eyes are squeezed shut, brows furrowed so tight it looks like it hurts. His lips part slightly as he exhales a slow, trembling breath, one that sounds like it’s been forced from the depths of his chest. His jaw clenches, the muscles flexing repeatedly, and his fingers tighten their grip on his hair almost desperately, as if he’s trying to anchor himself, to keep from coming apart entirely.

Your own breath stills in your throat. Every muscle in your body goes rigid, your mind struggling to catch up with what you’re seeing.

What the hell is going on?

A lump forms in your throat as you try to make sense of it. He’s been avoiding you all day, shutting you out since last night, and now… this? The distance, the cold silence, was all a cover, that much is clear now. But for what?

A part of you wants to go to him. To reach out, to touch him, to offer anything that might ease whatever war is raging inside of him. The urge claws at you, visceral and insistent, your arms aching to wrap around him in comfort.

But another part of you hesitates.

I shouldn’t be here.

You’re witnessing something raw, something unguarded and deeply, painfully human. A moment he never meant for anyone to see—least of all you. You’ve been toeing a dangerous line with Sukuna for a while now, but this… this feels like stepping over it. Stumbling over it, straight into a place you don’t belong.

You should leave.

The need to understand him, to help him, gnaws at you like a hunger, but he isn’t someone who needs things like that. Sukuna doesn’t want help. He is power. He is control.

But right now…

He looks like he has neither.

You catch yourself before you do something you’ll regret, clenching your hands around the glass of water you’d forgotten you were holding. Slowly, as to not make a sound, you creep past the doorway, heading over to the bathroom.

You press your ear against the door, listening for any sign of life from inside. Nothing. No movement, no shuffling. Only silence.

After a brief hesitation, you turn the knob and push the door open, peeking your head inside.

Megumi is sitting on the edge of the bathtub, his elbows braced against his knees, his head cradled in his hands. His shoulders rise and fall with slow, deliberate breaths, the kind you take when you’re trying to will your heartbeat to steady.

“Megumi?”

He lifts his head at the sound of your voice, blinking sluggishly. His eyes are glassy and unfocused, his pupils blown wide. It takes him a second to register you standing there, and when he does, his posture stiffens just a little. A ghost of a smile flickers across his lips—weak, sheepish—before he clears his throat.

“I’m alright, I just needed to chill in here for a second.”

You step into the bathroom, closing the door gently behind you before lowering yourself onto the floor beside him. The cool tiles press against your legs as you settle in close to his feet, holding out the glass.

“Here, drink this. I got you some water.”

Megumi takes it, fingers brushing against yours for a fleeting moment. He doesn’t look at you right away, instead staring down at the rim of the glass like it suddenly holds the secrets of the universe.

“Thanks,” he mutters, finally lifting it to his lips. He swallows a few careful sips before adding, “Sorry for ruining the vibe.”

You shake your head, lips twitching into a small smile as you reach out, rubbing his arm in comfort.

“Don’t worry about it,” you assure him, your voice soft, “you didn’t ruin anything.”

That gets him to look at you, but only briefly, his eyes flickering to yours before darting away. He shifts slightly on the edge of the tub.

You grin, deciding to tease him just a little. “Come back out whenever you’re ready. Oh, and I’ll make sure that show isn’t on when you do.”

His lips part slightly before pressing into a flat line. A weak chuckle escapes him, half amusement, half mortification. “Yeah. Thanks for that.”

You squeeze his arm lightly before rising to your feet. As you do, you glance down at him one last time, watching as he rubs the back of his neck, clearly embarrassed. Stifling a giggle, you reach for the doorknob.

“See you out there,” you say, stepping through the doorway.

As you make your way back to the living room, you pass by Yuji’s room once again. This time, you keep your gaze fixed straight ahead, resisting the urge to steal another glance inside. If Sukuna were to catch you looking, even for a second, he’d know you saw him earlier. He always knows. And you’re not sure you’d be able to school your expression fast enough to keep the truth from spilling across your face.

Right now isn’t the time to deal with whatever it is Sukuna’s got going on. Right now, you just want to have fun with your friends. You can deal with anything else once you get home.

That’s what you keep telling yourself.

Upon re-entering the living room, you notice the show from earlier has already been turned off, the soft hum of music filling the space instead—low, rhythmic beats that sink into the atmosphere like a gentle pulse. Yuji is sprawled across the couch on his back with a half-eaten chip bag laying forgotten on his lap, one arm tucked behind his head, the other drumming lazy fingers against his stomach in time with the music. His gaze is fixed on the ceiling, his expression distant, no doubt lost somewhere in the hazy lull of his high.

Nobara mirrors his sprawl on the floor, phone in hand, absentmindedly scrolling as she occasionally pops a chip into her mouth. You retake your spot beside her, snatching one from the bag without a word.

“Do you think that grass is, like, the earth’s pubic hair?”

“Yuji. Shut. The. Fuck. Up.” Nobara responds immediately. Based on her reply, you can only assume this has been going on for a while.

“I’m just saying! It makes sense if you think about it.”

“He’s kinda got a point,” you add with an amused tilt of your lips.

“Please, don’t encourage him.”

“You guys just need to get on my level. Nobody’s on my level,” Yuji pouts.

Before anyone can respond, Megumi reappears, looking far better than he did before. His complexion is no longer pale, his movements steadier, the color returned to his cheeks. He runs a hand through his hair as he steps into the room, shaking off the last remnants of his ordeal.

“Welcome back, buddy!” Yuji exclaims, immediately sitting up to make room for him on the couch. “We were worried about you! Were you fighting demons in there or what?”

Megumi levels a deadpan look at him before scanning the room, his gaze settling on you and Nobara before he sinks back into his previous spot. In one swift motion, he reaches over and swipes the bag of chips right off Yuji’s lap with a little more force than necessary.

“Nobody speaks of this outside of this room,” he says, voice flat as he pops a chip into his mouth. “Or you’re all dead.”

“Alright, jeez. Relax. Not like we’ve never greened out before,” Nobara mutters without looking up from her phone.

As the night winds down, conversations fade into a comfortable lull, and Nobara suggests putting on a movie. You settle in as it plays, watching it unfold on screen, but your mind is elsewhere now.

No matter how hard you try, you can’t stop thinking about what you saw in Yuji’s room—Sukuna lying there, his hands fisted in his hair like he was holding himself together by sheer force of will, seemingly teetering on the edge of some sort of breakdown.

You’ve never seen him like that, so unguarded, so vulnerable. You’ve seen him express emotion, sure. Anger, usually. Or quieter flickers hidden beneath sharp words and sharper smiles. But you’ve never seen something like that, not from him. It was unsettling, to say the least.

Is it because of me?

The question nags at you, digging into your ribs like a phantom dagger, whispering doubts into the corners of your mind.

Would he be angry if he knew you saw him like that? Or would he shut you out even more?

The idea sends a wave of sadness through you. Your heart aches for him. Whatever it is he’s going through, you have a sinking feeling that he’ll never open up, no matter how much you pry.

You shift in your spot, eyes flitting toward Yuji’s bedroom before quickly turning away.

Don’t.

The urge to check on him gnaws at you, but after the cold shoulder he’s been giving you all day, you doubt he’d give you the answers you’re looking for.

So instead, you decide it’s time to head home for the night. Yujis passed out anyway, having fallen asleep almost as soon as the movie started, and Megumi looks like he’s close behind him. You stand, gathering your things as you whisper your goodbyes, heading to the door.

Just as your fingers curl around the doorknob and open it to step outside, Sukuna appears, rounding the corner with his usual quiet grace. He doesn’t pause, doesn’t look anywhere but forward. He just slips past you and steps out the door ahead of you, carefully maneuvering his body so that his arm doesn’t so much as slightly brush your own.

You exhale slowly, watching his back as he strides ahead, his steps long and deliberate. You’re not surprised to see him keeping up his silent act. He doesn’t know that you saw him in Yuji’s room, after all. He doesn’t know you stood there, rooted in place, witnessing him beginning to unravel at the seams.

You step outside after him, the cold air a sharp contrast to the cozy warmth of Yuji’s apartment, slapping you like an icy wake-up call. Sukuna is already way ahead of you. The wind tugs at the strands of his hair, but he doesn’t react—just keeps walking, his movements purposeful, controlled.

By the time you reach the car, he’s already inside, the door shutting with a firm click. You sigh, tightening the grip on your keys.

You settle into the driver's seat, starting the engine and pulling out of the parking lot. The hum of the car feels louder than usual in the empty space between you. Neither of you says a word.

You want to say something, anything, to break this awkward tension. But… what can you say? You glance over in his direction briefly, but Sukuna is turned away, the side of his face barely visible in the dim light coming off the dashboard. You can’t tell if he’s avoiding you, or just lost in his own thoughts. Probably both. Either way, you can feel the distance continuing to grow between you with every minute that ticks by.

You clench your jaw, fighting the urge to demand an explanation for his behavior today.

Just drive.

When you finally pull into the parking lot to your apartment, Sukuna doesn’t wait. As soon as the car comes to a stop and you shut the engine off, he’s already out, his door slamming shut before you can un-click your seatbelt.

You watch his back as he walks ahead, his long strides forcing you to pick up your pace just to keep up. With every step, frustration burns hotter inside of you, winding itself around the ache that’s been sitting there since you saw him in Yuji’s room.

Why won’t he let you in? He’s hurting, you saw it with your own eyes. So why is he still keeping you at arm’s length? Why does he insist on suffering in silence when you’re right here?

By the time you reach the door to your apartment, your chest feels tight with your unspoken thoughts, the urge to voice them aloud becoming harder and harder to resist. You step inside right behind him, closing the door softly despite your inner turmoil threatening to spill over. And once again, Sukuna moves past you without a word, already striding down the hall, probably planning to disappear to wherever the hell he goes when he doesn’t want to be seen.

You make a quick decision. You’ve had enough of being ignored. You can’t just keep pretending everything is fine, like you’re sure he intends to. You have to say something.

“Sukuna.”

He stops, turning halfway around to face you. You study him carefully, searching for even the faintest trace of what you witnessed earlier—the tension in his jaw, the desolation in his face, the silent war he was waging within himself.

But there’s nothing.

Where there should be emotion—something raw and real—there is only an empty stare, a hollow reflection of the man you know lurks beneath his mask.

Cold. Dark. Void.

It’s a door slammed shut, an unspoken message that whatever moment of weakness you glimpsed was never meant for you.

The air between you grows infinitely heavier, colder. You can almost physically feel it, the absence of him, like something vital has been drained from the space he occupies. It prickles at your skin, wrapping itself around you, a quiet, almost suffocating numbness that mirrors the emptiness in his gaze.

He raises his brows at you, waiting for you to continue.

“You’ve been ignoring me.”

“Have I?” his voice is steady, indifferent.

You fold your arms across your chest, feeling your irritation finally rising to the surface. “Yes. You haven’t said a word to me all day. You haven’t even looked at me, not since—“ you cut yourself off, afraid to bring up the almost-kiss directly, “not since last night.”

Sukuna turns away, dismissing you with the shift of his shoulders, as if the conversation itself is beneath him. “There’s nothing to say,” he replies flatly, his tone impersonal, like he’s already decided this discussion isn’t worth his time.

But you refuse to allow him to slip through your fingers so easily. “Come on, don’t do that,” you step closer to him, determined to not let him brush it off, “don’t just… shut me out. Haven’t we moved past this?” your voice softens, the concern evident in your words.

Sukuna remains still, his shoulders drawn tight, his entire body wound like a thread stretched too thin. He doesn’t turn to respond, but his silence speaks louder than any answer he could give. And still, you push, even knowing it might only drive him further away.

“Why won’t you just talk to me?” you continue, your frustration giving way to something dangerously close to pleading. “I’ve opened up to you about everything—about my past, my ex, my life. You’ve basically seen it all. But you? You’ve given me nothing. You hide behind this wall like you’re… some… untouchable thing.”

At that, Sukuna finally turns his head, just slightly, his narrowed eyes settling on you over his shoulder. There’s a shift in the way his eyes almost darken, like a tide pulling back before the wave crashes. His voice is low, almost a growl.

“What exactly do you want from me?”

His question stings, cutting deep. Your throat constricts, like his own words have wrapped themselves tight around your airway, but you swallow hard, willing yourself to push through it.

“I want you to stop pretending that this means nothing to you,” you say, gesturing between the two of you, between the space that feels impossibly vast despite how close you stand, “that I mean nothing to you.”

For a moment, he just stares blankly at you in response. Then, without warning, a low, humorless laugh escapes him, dry and sharp, like the crack of a splintering bone. “You think this… whatever this is, means something to me?”

You take a breath, the words that have been stuck inside you for days, weeks, finally crashing to the surface.

“I know it does,” you say, your voice trembling slightly despite your best efforts, “and I know you feel it too, Sukuna. You’re not as detached as you think you are.”

He whips around at that, his face twisting, a sharp flash of anger breaking through his emotionless exterior. His brows pull together in disbelief, a deep furrow forming between them.

“You don’t know anything about me,” he snaps, his voice sharp. “Let me guess, you think just because we’re stuck in this bond, you can ‘fix’ me, is that it? You think I can feel anything? Love? Don’t be foolish.”

You’re taken aback by his words, his sudden anger. This is not how you wanted this conversation to go at all. But it’s happening now, spiraling out of control right in front of you, and there’s no turning back.

“I’m not trying to fix you. I’m just asking you to let me in.” You step closer, desperate to break through the icy wall he continues to throw up, to finally see the real him that he’s been hiding behind it. You’re tired of him pretending there’s nothing left of the man he once was.

Fuck it. You might as well let it all out.

“I’m not like her, Sukuna.”

His reaction is immediate. Sukuna’s body stiffens, his shoulders locking into place as if he’s just been struck. His eyes widen dangerously as his stare burns straight through you, unsettling you to your core.

“What?” His voice is low, quiet, but full of warning, like a blade pressed to your throat.

Your pulse pounds rapidly in your ears, your instincts screaming at you to stop and retreat, but you can’t stop yourself. The words continue to spill out.

“Look, I know about Uraume. I know what she did to you. I—“

“If I were you, I’d choose my next words very carefully,” he interrupts, his tone razor-sharp and dripping with venom.

You really should stop talking. Any rational person would. But the next words are already on your tongue, your desperation outweighing your better judgment. If you just keep pushing, if you can just make him see—he’ll believe you. He has to.

“I’m not her, Sukuna. You can trust me. I would never do that to you.”

His eyes flash, cold rage igniting in them like a distant storm, dark and inevitable. He takes a slow step toward you, his presence suddenly overwhelming, and you have to lock your legs in place to fight the urge to step back in response.

“Since you think you know so much,” he growls, his voice dripping with contempt, “then surely you know what happened to her, don’t you?”

Your eyes widen and you shake your head in response, your voice sounding much smaller and less confident than before. “No, I don’t.”

His expression changes, the sharp edges of his fury settling into something eerily calm. Too calm. His lips curl, not into a smirk, but something that resembles more of a grimace, though his eyes remain wide, uncanny and hollow.

“I killed her.”

He takes another step closer, and a sudden, primal fear rises inside you, sharp and instinctual. Your body tenses as you cower back.

His jaw tightens, and for a brief moment, a shadow of something—pain, maybe rage—contorts his features. But it’s gone in an instant, swallowed expertly by that cold, unrelenting mask.

“She screamed,” he continues, his voice dipping lower, “begged for mercy, for forgiveness.” A slow, humorless chuckle escapes him, causing a chill to run along your flesh. “As if it meant anything. As if I would ever grant her either.”

He takes a final step forward, and you don’t move, don’t breathe.

“I tore her apart, piece by piece for what she did to me. Watched her blood stain the ground like spilled ink. And when she finally stopped screaming, when she gasped that last, pitiful breath—“ he leans in, just slightly, “it was the sweetest sound I’d ever heard.”

Your stomach plummets, a sickening drop that leaves you dizzy. His words coil around your throat like a noose, tightening, choking. You had considered the possibility—of course you had. Sukuna had killed before. You had seen it yourself in the visions of his past. But those had been in battle, acts of war and conquest.

This… this was something else entirely.

A slow, merciless dismantling. A deliberate, calculated destruction of someone he once loved. Nausea rises in the pit of your stomach, threatening to bubble up into your throat. You stare at him, at the thing standing in front of you, and for the first time, you feel like you’re truly seeing him. The demon. The unrepentant, merciless king who had bathed in the blood of those who wronged him.

The Sukuna you’ve come to know—the one who met your wit with dry amusement, the one whose touch had once felt gentle against your skin, who had almost kissed you just yesterday—is gone.

“I…”

You take another step back, the words struggling to form on your trembling lips.

“You’re nothing like her,” he sneers, his voice laced with disdain, “and you never will be. You think just because you have some sort of odd little obsession with me, that makes you special? That I could ever feel for you what I once felt for her?” His lips curl into something akin to a snarl, “I am a monster. I kill, I destroy, I devour.”

His words strike like a blade, each syllable leaving his lips like tiny knives carving into your heart, stripping it away piece by piece, leaving you hollow. You can do nothing but watch, wide-eyed, empty, nothing left but the overwhelming ache where hope used to be.

“You’re nothing to me,” he continues, cruel and cutting. “Your pathetic little life is a mere speck in the grand scheme of things. I have been here for centuries. And I will continue to be here long after you’ve rotted, buried deep and forgotten underground.”

The room feels like it’s closing in on you, your vision blurring around the edges as your eyes begin to fill with unshed tears. You open your mouth to respond, but nothing comes out. You have no words. The air is heavy, thick with the weight of his cold dismissal of you.

“I’m not capable of love, girl, and you’d do well to remember that.” He says, his voice quieter now, but no less harsh.

“I’m not some human you can change and mold into a version that you prefer. I’m a demon. That’s all I’ll ever be.” He takes a step back, his face hard and unrelenting. “And if you think for even a second that I could ever care about you, then you’re even more fucking pathetic than I thought.”

The tears come fast, scorching trails down your flushed cheeks as your breath turns ragged. Your vision blurs, the room shrinking in around you, and all you can think is that you need to get away. Away from him, from his words still ringing in your skull, splintering through your chest like jagged glass.

You don’t look at him. You don’t even think. You just run.

You barely make it to your bedroom before the first sob rips free, raw and uncontrollable. The door slams behind you, but it does nothing to stop the pain from clawing its way up your throat, your shoulders heaving with the force of it. You stumble forward, collapsing onto your bed, curling in on yourself like a wounded animal.

Your hands tangle in your hair, gripping tightly, desperately, as if you could anchor yourself, as if you could stop the ache spreading through your chest, sinking deep into your bones. But it’s useless. The sobs wrack through you, shaking you to your very core, your breaths coming sharp and fast, too fast, until you’re gasping, until it feels like you’re drowning in it, in him, in everything you thought you had and everything he just tore apart in an instant.

And still, his voice lingers. Still, it hurts.

How could you be so stupid?

Of course he doesn’t care. Of course he doesn’t feel. He’s a demon—a creature of pure, unrelenting cruelty. You knew that. You’ve always known that. And still, somehow, you let yourself believe. You let yourself hope that there was something more beneath all that rage and ruin, something real. Something for you.

But there isn’t.

There never was.

You’re just a pathetic, lovesick fool, chasing a dream that was never yours to begin with. He’s not a man. He’s not someone to be understood or saved, not someone who could ever love you back. He is darkness, destruction, a force of nature that does not bend, does not break, does not care.

Your stomach twists with the sheer humiliation of it, shame seeping into your skin like poison. How could you let yourself fall? How could you have been so blind?

Your body trembles as you curl in tighter, rocking slightly, trying to push it away, to find some shred of comfort in the wreckage. But the thoughts won’t stop. The hurt won’t stop. It digs into your ribs, carves itself into your heart, reminding you over and over and over—

“You’re nothing to me.”

A strangled sob tears from your throat, raw and broken, as you bury your face into the pillow, desperate to muffle the sound. But it doesn’t matter. Nothing matters. The ache in your chest is too big, too unbearable, clawing at your ribs, crushing the air from your lungs.

For a fleeting moment, you think about leaving. Just getting up and walking out the door, disappearing into the night, never looking back. Maybe if you run fast enough, far enough, you can outrun this pain, escape the weight of what you’ve done, what you let yourself believe.

But where would you go?

There is nowhere he wouldn’t follow. No distance you could put between you that the bond wouldn’t snap back into place, dragging you right back to him. He is inescapable.

And you are trapped.

Your chest tightens violently, a crushing, suffocating weight settling onto it, making it impossible to breathe. The walls feel smaller, the air thinner, the room closing in like a prison. You squeeze your eyes shut, fists clenching in the sheets, trying to steady yourself, to think, to breathe.

Breathe.

Eventually, the sobs fade, not because the pain lessens, but because your body simply can’t keep up with it anymore. You lie still, curled in on yourself, drained beyond measure. The tears don’t stop, though—they slip silently down your face, soaking into the pillow, leaving behind the sticky remnants of grief. The hurt remains, dull now, a hollow, throbbing thing inside your chest, like an open wound that refuses to close.

You take a trembling breath, staring blankly at the wall as the crushing silence of the room presses in around you, thick and suffocating.

“You’re nothing to me.”

The words replay in your head, slow and deliberate, sinking deeper with every repetition. Maybe he’s right. Maybe this was all a mistake. Maybe you were foolish, delusional to think you could ever be anything more than a passing amusement to him. To believe you could reach something inside him that simply doesn’t exist.

And yet.

Even as you think it, even as you try to carve the truth into your own heart, a part of you refuses to believe it. Because you know better.

You’ve seen it. Felt it.

Despite his cruelty, despite the ice in his voice, despite the way he shut you out like you were nothing—you know there’s something beneath it all, something he won’t let himself admit.

But if he refuses to acknowledge it… does it even matter?

The thought lingers, heavy and unresolved, sinking deep into the marrow of your bones.

It shouldn’t matter. It can’t matter.

As you lie there, hollowed out and aching, the weight of his words pressing into your ribs like iron, you know this wound won’t fade so easily. It’s carved too deep, settled too far inside you.

So you let the tears fall, silent and endless, tracing paths down your skin like a grief that refuses to be swallowed. You close your eyes against the darkness, but there is no escape—not from this, not from him.

All you can do now is endure.

☰ Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

☰ Taglist: @nerdybouquetofkittens-blog @after-laughter-come-tears @rizzyjuney609 @prezzleyy

#bearer and the bound #dark romance #enemies to lovers #jjk #jjk angst #jujutsu kaisen #slow burn #sukuna ryomen x reader #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #jjk x you #jjk x reader #sukuna angst #sukuna ryomen #ryomen sukuna

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starrywangxian · 14 hours ago

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i need y'all to understand that the beautiful words that harry lloyd said yesterday didn't confirm jayvik. he didn't say that jayvik were married with 4 adopted children who live in a cottage by a stream either (but one can dream). i feel like that's the only thing some people are taking away from his speech, but you're missing out on the real beauty!

he said that romance isn't enough to describe their bond, their relationship. that to call their relationship romantic would belittle what it means.

they are not lovers because lovers isn't enough of a word to encapsulate their relationship and what their relationship means.

they're not romantic because they're more than romance. they're not brothers or platonic either. in fact, there is no word to describe their relationship because it doesn't exist.

that's why harry lloyd called them soul partners. he made up a word to describe them because not even soulmates was enough.

they're like two cogs in the fabric of the universe that need to be together in order for the universe to even function. they're two halves of the same soul!!

one cannot exist without the other; they're yin and yang, light and dark, good and evil etc. etc.

so are they romantic? no. are they platonic? no. are they brothers? no. they're a secret fourth thing that doesn't even exist in the human language because it's so beautiful that it can only exist in fiction (:

(and p.s. to the ppl saying, "how can you ship jayvik when jayce literally calls viktor his brother!!" you try having a bond with someone so profound that if you don't save each other, the whole universe collapses, and you try to describe what it is! jayce is emotionally constipated at best; brother was the only word he could think of that was close enough. give the man a break)

#harry lloyd the man that you are #honestly spoke such beautiful poetry wtf #but yeah i need y'all to see the beauty of what he said #instead of just hyperfocusing on the “married with 4 kids and live in a cottage by a stream” part #although i can also not stop thinking about that #i am only human after all #don't get me wrong i am still a jayvik truther #but love and romance can't even compare to what jayvik really have #jayvik #viktor #jayce talis #viktor arcane #arcane #harry lloyd #jayce x viktor #arcane jayce #starrywangxian

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ceoandslutler · 2 days ago

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it's funny because op said "my athena" so technically this is a fictional character based of the wording of the post. the response to your rb is killing me.

@katerinaaqu, greeks were neither fully ultra pale nor fully dark skinned and they still aren't so it doesn't really matter which choice people pick because greeks can be any of them. i also think it's funny how we're expected to "respect" religious figures. some of us don't respect* any of them so what now 😐

*not as in disrespect but more so that we don't gaf

it's not like greeks were historically respectful of other people's cultures considering they too colonised in brutal ways including destroying previous people's cultures and religions.

even in the modern day, the most famous film about the greeks (300) is literally a racist film that depicts zoroaster in an... "interesting" manner (not only him but an entire nation). we can all do whatever we want with religious figures atp as long as it's not painfully racist. even paul cartledge (famous professor of greek history at cambridge university) only ragged on the film a little bit but mainly complimented it. greeks are also quite proud of this film despite its inaccuracies (and racism).

again, i think we should be allowed to depict fictional figures however we want because religious figures are fictional, you can have your preference of course, but your preference about a character's looks is not somehow more correct than anyone else's simply because it's what the greeks envisioned.

tldr: nobody tried to change your opinion, it's just your justification for your opinion that reads a little... odd. you don't have to justify your preference for whiteness for a fictional character but these characters are now part of the western zeitgeist and people can play with them as they please (historical accuracy doesn't exist for them anyway as they were imagined by different people in different ways).

Redesigned my Athena.

#not sebaciel #for now 😈#fiction is not reality #religion is fiction #glorified mythology if you will

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confessioncassette · 2 days ago

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𝐍𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐘𝐨𝐮… 𝐍𝐨𝐰 - 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐬 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝟏𝟖+. 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭.

WARNING : you are responsible for your internet consumption. Do NOT interact with this post if you do not fw the tags. This is not real. This is a fictional experience.

summary : Thanos truly believes that the opportunity of the games was fate. He’d been slowly losing his mind and becoming more corrupt each day, believing that the stars had aligned for him and him escaping death is a sign. This leads him to believe that you were also on the list of divine intervention, and one night, he just can’t control himself while you sleep.

tw : DUBCON, SOMNOPHILIA, Thanos POV, Thanos believes it’s his right to have you, frotting - friction dry humping, clothed boners are hot, roughness, Thanos acting in complete lust, blowjob, hair pulling, sour then sweet, drugs mention

words : 2.0k

notes : this is more of a drabble than fic. I just.. fantasized about this happening

Thinking about how…

Thanos is not a man that withholds restraint, nor was he a man who cared.

Inside this asylum of death and childhood games, he’s a god. At least, that’s how he depicted himself in the hierarchy. He had hand-picked his team who had survived game after game, cheating death by a landslide. How could he not be a god?

Thanos began to think that this was fate, his divine right, a privilege to be placed in the games. From almost slipping his body off a bridge over the Han River to end it all, to redeeming himself here, where laws do not matter. Where he could cheat, steal, and even sacrifice others for a start on a new life. Because in here, whatever vile decision he makes, he truly believes that he will gain from it exponentially.

He’s slowly losing himself in this morally decrepit place, and he doesn’t mind that one bit. Each day his mind’s corrupted a little more, slowly unscrewing the primal parts of his brain that he didn’t even know were there. In fact, this was just what he needed. No police, no laws or tricks to unlock his true potential. The rules were simple, and he is simple enough to believe that he could win.

Not only has he slipped through death's icy grip to earn endless amounts of cash day after day, but he’d found a muse. It was a double whammy in the mind of Thanos.

All of this was truly a prophecy tailored just for him.

And now, in the darkness of the barracks, he’d been tossing and turning for what felt like hours after lights out. The effect of the drugs had been long gone, leaving his mind to wander. Thanos stared at the metal bars of the bunk above, his forearm slung behind him to caress his head. He’d been silently counting each bar over and over as he listened to the muffled snores around him.

He can’t sleep, not when couldn’t think about anything other than the fact that you were inches away, sleeping peacefully. He prided himself on snagging the bed next to yours the other day, and thankfully, your beds were nestled in the corner of the room on the very bottom bunk - another clear indication that fate was on his side.

Scanning his eyes over to your sleeping form, he watched you carefully. It wasn’t even fair, how beautiful you looked even in the dark. Your lips plush and relaxed, the way your lashes blanket over your cheeks, the slow movement of your chest rising and falling was a breathtaking sight in repose that contrasted to the events of day. You looked clean, too pure for a place like this.

In every single way, Thanos wanted to corrupt you. He wanted to corrupt you in a way that no one else could, in a way that no one else would know.

Because it was fate, right? The universe handed this opportunity on a silver platter, and you were the main course. How could he not take the advantage in making you his?

He couldn’t help the way his blood rushed between his legs. He couldn’t help the way his skin itched, or how his heart ached for you more than any drug could.

Thanos sucked in a breath and rolled his hips upward, the pressure from the waistline of his pants rubbed his hardened cock just right. Keeping his eyes fixated on your sleeping form, his gaze ravished the curves of your body. He wondered how soft you felt, what your lips tasted like, and how he would kill to have your lashes tickle his neck from underneath him.

Slender hands slide down to meet his aching cock over the fabric of his pants. Firmly grasping his hand around the shaft, he almost slips out a pathetic whimper. Fantasies of you on top with your breasts suffocating him flood his vision. He’d kill to bend you over that voting table in front of everyone, to show everyone that you were his. He could only imagine how tight your pussy was, how wet you’d get, how his balls would assault your pussy with each unforgiving thrust.

Thanos bit his lip, keeping a tight fist over his clothed cock as he pumped himself with a good pace. His brows furrow, but his pupils never leave your face as he does so.

God, you made him so wet, his precum has already soaked through the layers of his boxers and tracksuit. He’s careful, though, with his breath, only exhaling through his nose. But he was shuddering. His body is completely at the mercy of his lust for you, overstimulating every atom down to his toes. His mind has become over powered and hazy, thinking of all the things he could do. Would he cum on your face? Your tits? Oh fuck, would he cum deep inside you? Yeah, he’ll do that when the time comes.

Because…

Before Thanos even finished the thought, his feet were already swinging over the side of the bed and had only taken 2 steps to tower of your sleeping form. His eyes darted around the barracks and the beds that tower over him for any pink soldiers. Not that he cared, but it’d be a shame if he didn’t finish with you before getting killed if he was caught.

But it was fate though, right? The universe wouldn’t stop what he needed to do.

He needed to have you, and this was just the beginning of it all.

Towering over you, Thanos snapped his neck back to look over your face. His breath was ragged and his clothed boner raged with need. Keeping a firm grip on his cock to ease the pain, his free hand moves a piece of your hair behind your ear in a rather gentle way. Now, yes now he could see your face clearly.

Your beautiful fucking face.

His slender fingers graze over your lips, and they’re just as soft as he’d imagined. His body buzzes with excitement as he shuffles over his feet. Pumping himself faster now as he angles his hips closer to your face. This was the moment he needed, this was the moment he had been waiting for. Holding his breath like his life depended on it and his body shrill with adrenaline, he angles himself over your lips.

The tip of his cock underneath the fabric barely touches your mouth, but with his ministrations of jerking himself off, every few thrusts his cock head bumps into your lips.

”Oh, fuck,” Thanos allows himself to whisper, letting out a breath he’d been holding.

Why hadn’t he thought of this sooner? Maybe tomorrow night he’ll just sleep with you.

The pool of pre-cum was apparent, drenching the fabric now… and he needed more.

Gently, carefully, Thanos leaned over your bed, connecting his clothed cock over your face and began to hump. Your lips were perfect, perfectly caressing the thick vein that runs along his shaft and he began to hump in line with that.

It’s an indescribable feeling. Thanos’s head falls forward as he shuts his eyes tightly in ecstasy. His lips part, letting his ragged breaths fall while he maintains his hunched posture to grind over your face.

He knew it wouldn’t be long before-

“Mmph-“ You moan underneath him. But Thanos was quick to take his palm and press it along the back of your head to push you deeper into his cock. His hips stutter before halting. You move underneath him, but he keeps you firmly placed. Frantically looking around the room, he makes sure no one stirs from their slumber before unlatching himself.

Thanos quickly meets his face to yours, covering your mouth with a tattooed hand in an instant.

”Shh, baby..” He whispers as he watches your eyes wide in surprise moving between his. He would be lying if he didn’t feel a little guilt from surprising you, but frankly, in this moment, he could care less.

Because it was fate, right?

“Baby, baby,” he begins, taking his other hand to gently pet the crown of your head.

“Help me out, I’m hurting so bad. Can’t you see?” Moving his body upright, he presents his cock, painfully straining against his tracksuit stained with his own juices.

Your eyes take a second to look down at him and when you slowly drag your eyes back up to his face, he could cry. How beautiful your eyes looked in the dim light, how good you were when you relaxed in his grip.

Thanos’s eyes were fully dilated almost completely black as his gaze pierced through you. He ached, and there wasn’t much time. Taking your reaction as a green light, he moved in haste to free himself just enough for his cock to pop out over your lips.

“You can take me, babygirl, I know you can.” And before you could react, Thanos removes his sweaty palm over your mouth and slides his cock down your throat.

You sputter, but take him halfway. “There you go,” he mumbles.

“Fuck,” he curses under his breath before he moves. The warmth of your mouth and the slickness of your tongue is too good. Out of all the sensory enhancing drugs he has taken during his life, nothing compares to the ecstasy you bring him in this moment. Pulling his cock out to the head, the cool air mixes with your saliva making his head spin, just for him to gently thrust back down your throat, egging you to take more of him.

And you do.

Hands begin to caress around your skull, tangling within your hair to keep you firm against the bed as he thrusts, using your mouth as a flashlight to his desire. Your hot breath from your nose tickles his pelvis as you try to take him as he wants.

Thanos’s balls tighten, his stance is firm against the concrete floor, a fire burns deep in his core and spreads throughout his body. With your mouth slippery and hot, he feels like he’s fucking honey. Your mouth hallows to suck him in, and he can’t help but feel pride. His girl is taking him so well.

”Oh my god, do that again.”

His head whips back in pleasure just for a moment when you obey his command, but he’d be damned if he misses more than a second of watching you take his cock through your lips. Your eyes look back up at him as your mouth begins to drool.

Thanos picks up the pace, overrun by desire now. The grip on your hair becomes tighter and before he realizes, he's using your hair to manually control your movements. He begins to bob your head over him roughly, and you spurt to adjust to his new pace. Your eyes furrow, your breathing deepens through your nose while the purple haired man abuses your face.

“Just like that,” he repeats over and over, whispering how good of a slut you are.

Thanos’s jaw protrudes forward, his eyes swim with a darkness you’ve only seen in the games. He can only imagine how painful the grip he has on your scalp is, but he can only bob your head harder and faster. His rings now warm, dig at your skull along with blunt colorful fingernails.

Thanos’s breath is uneven and sputtering with each thrust, his body moving to the call of lust. He wants to cry out, he wants to let his tears of pleasure fall, but he can’t be caught… at least not now.

His balls press firmly against your chin now, as you take his cock fully. The purple haired man strains his face, baring his teeth down at you in a silent warning to keep fucking going, or he’ll lose his shit.

“Swallow my fucking cum.”

Three times he’d pull your face over his cock before hot spurts of his cum hit the back of your throat. You cringe for just a second before swallowing around him like he asked. Thanos grins darkly in approval when he hears every gulp.

It pains him to remove your mouth for now, so he keeps himself inside until he’s soft.

“Come on, every last drop,” he commands while looking down at you. His sensitive cock twitches when you suckle his soft cock, drawing every ounce of cum left before he carefully pulls out and tucks himself back in his pants.

“Move over,” he taps your shoulder, and you do as he asks. Thanos crawls into the uncomfortable bed facing you before pulling your face to his chest. You let him pull your body close without a fight. His chest vibrates as he gives a satisfied hum.

It was all fate.

Just like avoiding death in each game, he’s avoided death once again by not getting caught. So tomorrow night, he has a new idea to show his love for you.

#yandere squid game #yandere thanos x reader #yandere thanos #yandere Thanos smut #tw yandere #tw somno #tw somnophilia #tw dubious consent #dark squid game #dark Thanos #player 230 #dark Choi su bong x reader #dark Choi su bong #yandere choi su bong #dark player 230 #yandere player 230

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airandyeah · 17 hours ago

Text

Animals (Alpha!Sukuna X Alpha!Toji X Omega!Reader) Pt.5

My Masterlist Series Masterlist Warnings: Obvious A/B/O dynamics, suggestive comments or actions, just generally Minors DNI-just in case. This will be similar to Pink Pony Club and Sins, where I just mark every chapter as 18+ This also has the general warning of Toji and Sukuna both honestly being menaces.

You had no intention of spending the day dealing with any drama. It was supposed to be a quick grocery run and maybe a few hours of peace before heading back to your cabin to catch up on some much-needed downtime. You’d been managing, getting by, focusing on the quiet hum of your daily life—but the universe, of course, had other plans.

As you walked through the aisles, minding your own business, you suddenly felt a presence looming over you. A familiar scent—the kind that made your skin prickle in irritation. You froze for a moment, not wanting to acknowledge it, but it was too late.

“Well, well, look who it is,” the voice smirked.

You didn’t even need to look up to know it was him. Naoya. That smug, arrogant bastard you used to date. The same one who could make your blood boil in an instant. You’d barely had time to turn your head before he was standing in front of you, looking you over like he owned the place.

“I didn’t expect to see you here, of all places. Shopping? How quaint. Are you really this desperate, or are you just looking to screw your way through every Alpha in town?”

Your breath caught in your throat, but you didn’t let it show. You’d long since learned to hide how his words affected you. Your chest tightened with frustration, but you pushed it aside.

“I’m not ‘screwing my way through anyone,’” you spat, refusing to let him see how much he still got under your skin.

He just chuckled, crossing his arms as if it amused him to see you struggle with this. “Sure you’re not. You used to pretend you were above all of that. But here you are, turning to men like them,” he sneered, his eyes flicking toward the door like he could already picture Toji and Sukuna in his head.

A cold wave of nausea hit you, but you forced yourself to stand firm. “You don’t know anything about me, Naoya. So save your judgments for someone who cares.”

His smile twisted further. “Oh, I know exactly what you’re about. I know exactly who you turn to when you’re desperate. Alphas like Toji, maybe?” He raised an eyebrow, voice dripping with venom. “But, of course, he’s a Zen’in failure, isn’t he? Hard to see how you could’ve gone from someone like me to someone like him.”

Your hands clenched at your sides, fingers digging into your palms to stop the trembling. “You don’t know shit about me, Naoya. Don’t ever talk about him like that.”

Before you could take another step, a shadow loomed over both of you. You didn’t even need to look up to know who it was, but the moment you heard the deep voice that sent your heart pounding, you felt a small spark of relief.

“You sure about that, Naoya?” Toji’s voice cut through the tension like a knife, low and dangerous.

You looked up, and there he was. Toji. His face was a mask of calm, but his eyes—his eyes were sharp, dangerous, and something in your chest tightened at the sight. Right behind him stood Sukuna, grinning, dark amusement in his eyes.

Naoya’s smug expression faltered for a moment before he forced a smile. “Toji. Sukuna. What’s up? Don’t tell me you’re actually fighting over this one. Pathetic.”

Sukuna’s grin widened, his voice dripping with mockery. “You talking about her like that? You really think you can walk around here and say whatever you want? Don’t forget where you are, little Zen’in.”

You barely had time to brace yourself before Toji decked him. The crack of the punch echoed through the store, and Naoya stumbled back, his face contorted in shock and pain as he clutched his jaw.

Sukuna was still grinning, watching with obvious amusement. “Hell yeah, that’s what I’m talking about. I didn’t think you had it in you, Toji.”

Toji stepped back, wiping his fist with his sleeve as he gave Naoya a cold look. “I’m done with you. You don’t talk about her like that. Ever.”

Naoya’s eyes burned with rage, but he didn’t take another step forward. He shot a final venomous look in your direction, his words sharp as glass. “You really let these losers fight over you? Pathetic. I was right about you.”

With that, Naoya turned on his heel and stormed off, leaving the three of you in silence.

For a moment, you just stood there, your heart hammering in your chest. The tension was thick—almost suffocating. You hated how Naoya had gotten to you, how his words still made your skin crawl. But there was something else now, something you couldn’t ignore.

Toji and Sukuna’s presence was overwhelming in the best—and worst—ways.

“You didn’t need to do that.” Your voice was low, shaky as you tried to ignore the heat flooding your cheeks. You couldn’t look them in the eye.

Toji was still breathing heavily, the anger in his expression slowly fading. “Yeah, I did. No one talks about you like that.”

Sukuna leaned in, his voice teasing. “You’re ours, remember? You think we’d let anyone talk down to you? Nah, babe. Not happening.”

You wanted to shout at them, tell them to back off, that you didn’t need them to protect you. But the truth was, deep down, a part of you liked it. A part of you couldn’t help but feel pleased that they cared enough to step in.

But you wouldn’t admit that. Not yet.

“Let’s just get out of here.” You muttered, already turning to head toward the door.

Toji’s voice followed you. “Yeah, let’s go. You’re with us now, and we’ll make sure no one ever treats you like that again.”

Sukuna laughed, dark and promising. “You’re not getting rid of us, sweetheart.”

You kept walking, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that the more you fought them, the more they would chase you.

And you weren’t sure if you hated it or wanted it.

You stepped out of the store, your head still buzzing with everything that had just happened. The rush of adrenaline, the sharp sting of anger that Naoya’s words had caused, and the unexpected relief of seeing Toji and Sukuna rush to your side, had your mind spinning in circles.

Toji and Sukuna flanked you as you walked out of the store, neither of them saying much but their presence still overwhelming. You couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to all of this, but you weren’t about to let them see the effect they had on you.

“You okay?” Toji asked, his voice soft but laced with concern. His eyes were steady, a calmness about him that made you feel slightly safer, despite your reluctance.

You nodded, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. “I’m fine. Just... didn’t expect that.” You paused, realizing how out of place this whole situation was. “Thanks, though. I really didn’t need your help, but...” You trailed off, the words tasting bitter on your tongue.

Sukuna laughed softly, his tone teasing but still somehow comforting. “Yeah, I bet you didn’t. But you didn’t exactly tell us to stay out of it, did you?”

You shot him a quick glance, half-expecting him to start that cocky grin, but instead, his expression softened. The usual swagger in his stance gave way to something more laid-back.

“You’re not wrong,” you muttered, exhaling deeply. “Guess I’ve got to thank you both.”

Toji gave a nonchalant shrug. “No need for thanks. It’s just what we do.” He glanced at Sukuna. “But hey, now that the tension’s broken, why don’t we get out of here? We’ve got a cabin nearby. A couple of drinks. No funny business, just a place to chill and talk. You’ve had a rough time today, and it’s the least we can do.”

You hesitated, the words no funny business ringing in your ears. They’d said it so casually, like you had nothing to worry about—but you weren’t sure if you should trust them.

You turned toward them, narrowing your eyes. “I don’t know... I’m not exactly looking for company right now, and I don’t want to get caught up in any of your nonsense.”

Sukuna raised an eyebrow, his smirk never wavering. “We’re not gonna bite. Just a drink, a couple of laughs... think of it as a peace offering for saving your ass.”

Toji added, his voice surprisingly calm, “You’ve been through a lot today. It wouldn’t hurt to unwind for a bit. Just relax, yeah?”

You paused, looking between them. They were so damn persistent, weren’t they? But it wasn’t like they were forcing you. They were being annoyingly considerate... in their own way. And, honestly, you could use a break from the tension that had been building inside you since you’d seen Naoya.

“Fine. But no funny business, remember?” You narrowed your eyes, giving them a pointed look.

Sukuna grinned, all teeth and confidence. “We’ll hold to that, sweetheart.”

You sighed, shaking your head, and the three of you walked toward their truck. As you got in, your mind wandered for a moment, trying to ignore the knot in your stomach. You didn’t want to admit it, but you couldn’t deny that you were curious about what their life was like. The whole cabin in the woods thing was different, and part of you was intrigued, despite the heat of the situation.

You hoped this wouldn’t end in disaster. But for now, you’d take it one step at a time. ~~~ The truck pulled up to the cabin, and as the engine turned off, the quiet of the woods enveloped you again. The place was nestled deep in the trees, the air fresh with the scent of pine and the distant hum of nature. You weren’t exactly sure what you had expected—maybe something rustic and old, or a bit more... chaotic. But this? It was surprisingly well-kept.

Toji and Sukuna led the way up to the porch, the soft glow of firefly lights hanging delicately from the rafters, giving the place an almost enchanting feel. You hadn’t expected this kind of charm, not from two men who spent their days being rough around the edges.

“After you,” Toji said, his hand gesturing toward the front door, a hint of amusement in his voice.

You hesitated for a second before stepping onto the porch, feeling the smooth wood beneath your feet. Sukuna had followed closely behind, and you could feel his gaze flicking over you every now and then, like he was trying to figure out what you were thinking.

As you crossed the threshold into the cabin, your eyes swept across the space. It wasn’t huge, but it was comfortable. Cozy even. The furniture was well chosen—dark leather couches that looked like they’d seen a lot of use, a large coffee table in the center of the room, and walls lined with wood, giving it a cabin feel but without the overwhelming rustic chaos you had been expecting.

To your surprise, the place was clean. Like, really clean. The floors gleamed as though someone took time to polish them, and there wasn’t a speck of dust in sight. It was almost too perfect for two men who seemed to live like they didn’t have a care in the world.

Sukuna gave a casual shrug as if reading your mind. “It’s not like we’re animals, you know.” He smirked, tossing his jacket over the back of a chair. “You’re probably thinking we live like pigs, right? Not our style.”

You raised an eyebrow, trying not to let your curiosity show too much. “I didn’t say anything.”

Toji chuckled, moving over to a small bar area, the shelves lined with bottles you’d never expect to find in a cabin this secluded. “You should’ve seen the place when we first moved in. Barely any furniture, a lot of half-finished projects. But... we made it work. Comfortable for us, and that’s all that matters.”

He poured himself a drink, the glass clinking against the counter as he handed you one without asking. “We don’t usually have company, but I think we can make an exception for you.”

You took the glass from him, reluctantly but not without some curiosity. The last thing you wanted to do was let them win, let them get under your skin, but part of you... was intrigued. You hadn’t expected to find them so... domestic. The way they moved around the cabin, the way they made sure you were comfortable, it was unexpected. It made something in your chest tighten, though you tried to ignore it.

Sukuna, always the bold one, flopped into the armchair, lounging back with a lazy smile. “Take a seat. Relax. We don’t bite... unless you want us to.”

You rolled your eyes, though the tension between you still lingered in the air. “I’m fine standing.”

Toji chuckled, leaning against the kitchen counter as he took a sip of his drink. “You’ll be fine here. Trust me.”

You took a deep breath, trying to fight back the growing sense of... something in the pit of your stomach. This wasn’t the plan, and you sure as hell weren’t going to let them think it was. But the way they treated you, the way they spoke to you—it was different than what you were used to. They weren’t pushing, they weren’t forcing anything.

The drinks kept flowing, the amber liquid glistening in your glass as you took sip after sip, the burn of the alcohol slipping down your throat in a slow, warm cascade. You hadn’t realized how much you’d needed it until now—until you found yourself here, in their cabin, the soft buzz of alcohol loosening your tight grip on everything.

Toji was lounging back against the counter, casually throwing in his thoughts about whatever movie he had watched last, while Sukuna leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees, a slight smirk curling his lips as he listened. The two of them went on, their voices low and casual, and you found yourself unwinding in a way you hadn’t expected.

You weren’t sure how much time had passed—an hour, two?—but the alcohol had done its job. You found yourself laughing at things you wouldn’t have normally, teasing them back with jokes that came easier than usual. Your walls, the ones you’d built so high to keep them out, were slowly crumbling. There was no more tension, no more animosity. For the first time in what felt like forever, you felt like you could just... be.

But it wasn’t all carefree. Even with the alcohol lowering your guard, you were still keenly aware of their presence—how they watched you, how their eyes flickered between you, like they were both waiting for something. Something you weren’t ready to give. Not yet.

When you finally realized the room was swaying slightly, your glass was half-empty, and your vision was blurring at the edges, you made a feeble attempt to focus. But it was too late. The alcohol had completely overtaken you, your body finally giving in to its effects.

Toji noticed first. His eyes were sharp, even when relaxed. He saw you sway and caught you before you could even protest.

“Guess it’s time for bed, huh?” Toji’s voice was low, teasing, but there was something more gentle in his tone that made you pause. The sharpness that normally lurked under his words was gone.

You tried to protest, but your body didn’t listen. You didn’t have the strength to argue.

Sukuna’s gaze flickered toward you, and when you managed to lift your head, you saw a glimmer of something softer in his eyes.

“You alright?” Sukuna’s voice was rough but laced with concern, the usual playfulness gone.

You muttered something incoherent, shaking your head as you attempted to stand, but the world swam before you. Sukuna let out a low chuckle, but it wasn’t mocking. It was... warm, almost affectionate. He stood up and moved to your side, his hand gently at your back to steady you.

“Let’s get you to bed,” Sukuna said softly, as if sensing how overwhelmed you were, not just from the alcohol but from the whole evening.

Toji was already ahead of you, his large hand gripping the doorframe as he looked back at you with a raised brow. “Don’t think we’re taking you anywhere you don’t want to go,” he added, his tone lighter than before. “Just a place to sleep it off.”

You didn’t have the strength to argue, your thoughts too sluggish to process anything properly. You let them help you to your feet, Sukuna’s hand around your waist, supporting you as you swayed slightly in the silence. They moved you toward the guest room with surprising ease.

The room was simple, with a bed covered in soft, thick blankets. Toji and Sukuna guided you onto it gently, the comfort of the bed almost making you forget where you were. The cool sheets against your skin felt heavenly as they pulled the covers over you.

Sukuna, ever the one to smirk, leaned in with a wink. “Don’t think we’re going to take advantage of you just because you’ve had a drink. That’s not our style.”

Toji stood by the door, his eyes flicking to Sukuna before returning to you. “Sleep it off. We’ll be here when you wake up. No funny business.” He said it with a smirk, but there was a genuine protectiveness in his tone.

The last thing you heard before sleep overtook you was Toji’s voice, warm and calm. “Goodnight. Don’t worry about a thing.”

As your eyes fluttered closed, your mind was filled with the quiet comfort of their presence. Despite everything that had happened, despite the unresolved tension, they had kept their word. No funny business. Just... peace. You couldn’t help but wonder if maybe this wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

Taglist is always open for anyone! Just comment, send an ask, or a DM and I'll add you! Taglist: @tojislongshlong , @jaxawinchester , @ectomotive , @hishearttohave , @makingtimemine , @tojinxies Perma Tags: @thenightperson I almost feel bad for always making Naoya a villain but like, Toji.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #x reader #sukuna ryomen #jjk sukuna #jjk toji #toji fushiguro #alpha sukuna #alpha toji #omega reader #omegaverse #a/b/o

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