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lovelookspretty · 1 month ago

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waking up to you

au!rafe cameron x reader

— in which you wake up in a strange alternate reality that just so happens to be the outer banks universe, and to your disbelief, you’re suddenly in a relationship with the shows most unlikely character, rafe cameron.

warnings: alcohol, swearing, 18+ smut (poorly written), p in v, fingering, orgasm denial / control, praising, impact play, choking, drunk sex, just a bunch of stuff

authors note: guys 😞😞 i havent slept yet n its 8am okay see u today ! xo

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sarah walks over with a few drinks, weaving through the crowd and handing them out like she’s done this a hundred times. she’s balancing a faint smile, her eyes flicking around the backyard as she approaches, as if she’s trying to relax but can’t fully settle.

kiara’s on your other side, and even though the party is in full swing, she looks like she’d rather be anywhere else. her expression is tight, her shoulders hunched like she’s holding back from showing how uncomfortable she is.

you don’t blame her. knowing kiara’s character, it’s not surprising that a rafe cameron party isn’t exactly her scene.

“i tried to find the least threatening drinks in all that crap rafe brought tonight,” sarah says, her voice low as she hands you and kiara cups. the corners of her mouth twitch upward in a forced smile, like she’s joking but there’s truth behind it.

you take your cup, grimacing as you look inside. the liquid sloshes around in the dim light, and you can’t help but wonder what kind of concoction sarah managed to scrounge up from rafe’s wild assortment.

you lean back against the brick half-wall, feeling the cool stone press against your spine. sarah settles in beside you, her shoulder brushing yours, and kiara hoists herself up onto the wall on your other side, holding her drink with one hand, but she doesn’t take a sip. not yet.

the three of you stand there in silence for a moment, and it’s strange—this moment of quiet in the middle of all the chaos—but it also feels grounding. like, for the first time all day, you’re not just a spectator, not just someone on the outside looking in. you’re here, with them. part of their group. part of this world.

you glance around the backyard, watching the laughter, the reckless dancing, the drinks being poured and spilled. it’s wild, a mess in its own way, but there’s a freedom in it too.

in a strange way, it feels like you could belong here. like you could get used to moments like this. parties won’t happen every night, but this sense of connection? that could be something real. something that lasts.

you absently take a sip of your drink, the alcohol burning as it slides down your throat. it’s harsher than you expected, and you wince, trying to shake off the bitterness.

but then something else hits you, something harder. the truth. it slips into your mind like the sting of the alcohol, sharp and undeniable.

you’re leaving after tonight.

the party, the people, the wild energy—it’s all temporary. by the time the sun rises, you’ll be back in your own reality, where none of this exists. where none of these people know you.

you pause, your hand tightening around the cup, your mind wandering as you take another drink. you lean back against the wall, staring at the scene in front of you. it was fun while it lasted, but this isn’t your world. at least not really.

and it hits you. it’s been fun. but not enough.

you pull away from the wall, standing a little taller, turning to face sarah and kiara. they look at you, maybe a little curious about the shift in your expression, the sudden spark in your eyes. you’re not thinking about tomorrow anymore. you’re thinking about right now.

“let’s just get fucked up tonight,” you say, a grin pulling at your lips. because if this is your last night here, if this is the end of your wild, unexpected adventure in this world—then you're going to make the most of it.

sarah grins as soon as the words leave your mouth. her eyes light up with a wild sort of excitement, and she’s immediately on board. “hell yeah. let’s do it,” she says, already for raising her cup and preparing to take a bigger sip.

but when you glance over at kiara, you see the hesitation written all over her face. she’s fidgeting with her drink, her shoulders hunched in that same way, a small, reluctant shrug as she stares down at the liquid.

“i don’t know, guys,” she mutters, “i don’t know.” it’s clear she’s not feeling it, the party vibe or the idea of letting loose like that. but you and sarah? you’re not letting her off that easy.

“come on, kie, it’ll be fun,” you say, your voice soft but insistent, leaning in a little as if coaxing her into something harmless.

sarah jumps in without missing a beat, her energy contagious. “just for tonight!” she adds, almost laughing, because she knows kiara isn’t the type to get wasted or go wild in a place like this, but that’s exactly why she wants her to let go for once.

kiara lets out a small, reluctant laugh, shaking her head slightly, but there’s a spark in her eyes now, like maybe she’s considering it, even if it’s just for a second.

you and sarah exchange a quick look, a knowing glance before you both grab her arms, pulling her along before she can protest any further.

“come on, kie!” you say, laughing as you tug her toward the chaos of the party. sarah’s on the other side, matching your pace, pulling her with the same enthusiasm.

you’re not sure if it’s the alcohol or the realization that you don’t have much time left, but either way, you’ve decided. you’re going to squeeze every last drop of fun out of this night, out of this reality, before you have to wake up and leave it all behind.

the music pulses through the backyard, a mix of laughter and shouting that fills the air like a sweet buzz.

you find yourself losing track of time as you drink just enough to let loose, the warmth of the alcohol making everything feel lighter, more carefree. you’re wrapped up in conversations with sarah and kiara, their laughter mingling with yours as you dance together.

as the night wears on, you feel a pair of familiar hands wrap around your waist, spinning you around. it’s rafe. you hardly register his presence at first—too lost in the moment.

without a second thought, he twirls you into his chest effortlessly, and your heart races at the sudden closeness. you barely have time to react before he kisses you deeply.

it’s the kind of kiss that makes you feel like you’re melting into him, as if the rest of the world falls away. the music dims to a low thrum in your ears, and all that exists is the two of you, locked in this moment of heat and urgency.

rafe pulls back slightly, his breath warm against your skin. he lifts his chin and lets out a loud ‘woo!’ that echoes through the party, earning cheers and whoops from those nearby. you can’t help but laugh, caught up in the energy of it all.

he looks down at you, eyebrows furrowing in an adorable mix of confusion and amusement, a smile dancing on his lips, and asks, “how much have you had to drink?”

in your tipsy state, you hold up a couple of fingers, a crooked smile spreading across your face.

“that’s my girl,” he says, taking your hand and leading you toward the side of the house. the party fades into the background as he guides you upstairs, taking you to a patio that’s off-limits to the rest of the guests.

the air feels different up here—cooler, more intimate. the view of the party below is mesmerizing, with colored lights twinkling against the dark sky, laughter drifting up like smoke.

rafe stands beside you, practically holding court with his girl by his side, completely at ease in this secret space. he leans against the railing, one arm casually draped around your shoulders as you both look out over the night, the chaos of the party a distant memory.

it’s just you and rafe, lost in the moment, enjoying the night and everything it has to offer.

his lips are working furiously on yours as he lays you down on the bed, a soft groan escaping his throat that fills you with desire. you feel weak against him, his body naturally playing rough with you as he kisses you deeper.

his hands roam your body, his thumbs brushing over the sides of your breasts, pausing to cup them in his large hands as his tongue slips into your mouth, his fingers finding your hardened peaks to trace over them gently. his other hand moves lower, caressing your stomach and hips.

you’re blitzed and needy for him, your hips bucking up against his hand instinctively, pleading for some pressure.

he chuckles against your mouth, breaking the kiss only to trail his lips down to your neck, his fingers lightly dancing over your inner thighs, tauntingly close to where you want them most.

his touch is addicting. his fingers continue their path until they’re buried between your soaked panties and your skin. he groans at the warmth and wetness he finds, his thumb pressing against your clit as his fingers start to rub slow, gentle circles over it.

you whimper softly as your back arches, chest pressed into his. learning down, rafe kisses your neck, his breath hot on your skin as he whispers into your ear.

“eyes on me, baby,” his voice is low, husky, demanding. your gaze is pinpointed on him, despite how difficult it is to keep them open. they flutter shut when he increases the speed of his touch, his own breath hitching as you writhe against his hand. “that’s it, look at me.”

his fingers continue their relentless pace, drawing out your release as he watches you with heavy lids as you come down, his own hardness straining painfully against his jeans.

as you cry out his name, he covers your mouth with his own, swallowing your moans and whimpers as your body convulses against him, his fingers continuing to work through it. he grins against your lips, his pride swelling as your release coats his fingers. he’s so proud of you.

as your body finally stills, he pulls his fingers free from your folds and brings them to his mouth, licking them clean.

his hands move to your hips to flip you over so you’re on your hands and knees, and swiftly discards the rest of his own clothes. when he returns the spotlight, he groans at the sight of you, your ass high in the air, presenting yourself to him.

hie hand comes down hard on your right cheek, leaving a red handprint. “such a good girl,” he murmurs, rubbing the sting away before doing the same to the left cheek, each spank leaving you gasping and gripping the sheets harder than you were before.

he takes a moment to admire the view, his large hands kneading the soft flesh of your ass. “you look so good like this, baby,” he tells you, giving a cheek one last sharp smack before hooking his fingers around your underwear and roughly tugging them down.

his hands return to your hips, his body crowding yours as he leans over your back, his hardness pressing against your still core. he nuzzles his face into your neck, his breath hot and heavy on your skin as he wastes no time, slowly entering you. he’s big, intoxicated, and absolutely hungry for you.

he hisses a breath through his teeth as he fully sheaths himself inside you, his hands gripping your hips tightly. “so perfect for me, hmph?” he says, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he starts to thrust in earnest. he knows he’s not being gentle, but he also knows that you can take it.

his hips snap against your ass with a punishing rhythm. he reaches around to grab your throat, his fingers closing around it like a vice as he chokes you gently.

“my perfect girl,” he whispers, his adams apple bobbing as he swallows thickly, listening to the pleasuring sound of your broken moans. he pulls out suddenly, his thick member slapping against your pussy before he grips your hip tightly and slams back in.

he hisses, his hips bucking forward, his movements becoming more frantic. his hands dig into your flesh as he speeds up, the sound of wet flesh slapping against flesh filling the room. he’s merciless, each thrust meant to claim, to own, to mark. he grunts with every snap of his hips.

at some point, his thrusts become shallower but equally brutal, hitting a spot that makes you wail. he grins.

just when you feel your orgasm building already, it’s like he reads you like a book. rafe abruptly pulls out and flips you onto your back, pushing your legs up and out as he slams back in. he leans over, his chest pressed to yours.

he’s relentless; you’re learning this. with you, you’re like his prey. and he makes all the right noises to drive you over the edge.

“please,” you whine, your head collapsing back against the pillow. “can i please cum? please?”

his hips jerking forward in short, sharp thrusts. “not . . not yet. you can cum when i say you can,” he hisses, his voice laced with dominance. “you can take it, can’t you, baby? for me?”

you hold out for as long as you can but he doesn’t make it easy. tears brim your eyes at the frustration, at the stimulation that’s clouding your mind. all you can think is him. end the night with him.

“i’m not done with you yet,” he tells you, his face contorted with pleasure as he continues to thrust into you. he reaches down and wraps your legs around his waist, tilting his hips to hit that spot inside you that makes you see stars. “wanna fill you up with my cum. make you pregnant.”

“‘m gonna cum,” you cry, and his hips jackhammer as he feels your body clench around him.

he can already feel himself itching for release, just like you. who is he to deny his own? “cum for me. show me how much you love me, baby,” he groans, his voice strained with passion.

his face contorts with pleasure as he feels you clamp around his cock, his rhythm growing erratic as he finds his own release. he lets out a guttural shout, his body growing heavy as he cums inside of you.

you lift your head off the pillow and look down between your warm bodies. rafe reaches for your jaw and presses his lips hungrily to yours—to taste you and to reward you for being so good to him. when he pulls away, he’s breathless, lifting off of you.

his hands cascade down your thighs until he’s gripping the flesh of your hips, pulling his own back, then forward into you. it’s slow, gentle, until he’s withdrawing completely. his cock springs free, attached to it a mere string of cum, a mix of both of yours.

then he’s off, retrieving some tissues from his bedside while you lay in the middle of the bed, fucked out, bruised, but in an unexpected way, relieved.

you hear the crinkle of tissues as he pulls you to the edge of the bed and wipes both of you clean. he tosses the used tissues into the trash without much care before collapsing back into bed, pulling you into him. his arm wraps tight around your waist, almost possessive, like he’s afraid to let go, even in sleep.

you lie there, listening to the soft sound of his snores. his face is peaceful now, so different from the chaos he usually carries. it feels strange seeing him this way—vulnerable, calm, and completely at ease with you. you should feel the same, but your mind keeps spinning.

it’s hard not to think about the day, about everything that’s happened.

just this morning, you woke up in a world you’d only ever seen on tv, a universe that wasn’t yours but one you’ve somehow slipped into. and despite everything, it’s been . . . nice. spending the day with rafe, with sarah, kiara, and even the rest of them. living in their world, even if it was only temporary.

you take a deep breath, staring at rafe as your thoughts drift. it feels like a once-in-a-lifetime experience, something gifted to you without explanation. one day to live among them, to see what it’s like.

you lie there for a while longer, watching as his chest rises and falls with each breath. his face is so peaceful.

before you realize it, you’re leaning in, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. your lips linger for a moment longer than you mean to. when you pull back, you watch him again, his face still unchanged, lost in whatever dream he’s in.

you whisper, “thank you.” a parting phrase that feels like a goodbye, and it essentially is. because deep down, you know this isn’t your world. it was never supposed to last more than a day, and as much as you’ve loved it, as much as you’ve found comfort here, you know it’s time to go.

with a sigh, you finally decide to call it a night.

you slip under the covers, pulling them tight around your body. rafe’s arm is still around your waist, holding you close. you let yourself settle into his embrace, his body pressed against yours.

it’s almost too easy, too natural, the way you cling to him, letting your head rest on his chest as you begin to drift off. your thoughts blur, and soon enough, sleep overtakes you.

@v2los @cosmixstar @meeuhsworld @httpsdrewstarkey @lovdrew @lilithblackkk @rovckwells @cherrylooney @iissza @namelesslosers @cocolovey @rafeyswrd @odairtrqsh @gretag13 @vivian-555 @lunaleah @smol-coffee-addict @twinge-vix @behindviolettwrites @avngrssckr @stonerroadbull @cali-888 @coquettajob @simpingcorner @nymphetkoo @pinkpantheris @ilyrafe @romaescapes @cold-soup1223 @inaluvrsworld @rafesweetie @faephoria @solo-pitstop-vibes @my-fabulousness-has-arrived @drewsephrry @sgecorrow @ravisinghs-wife @booksntings @tinyfairies

jk ! when you wake up, the first thing you notice is the light—bright and clear, filling the room. you blink, your eyes fluttering open slowly, though your head throbs with the weight of a . . . hangover? this stuff really spreads to the real world.

the faint smell of something familiar, lingers in the air. groggy and confused, you try to shake the fog in your mind, rubbing your eyes before looking around your apartment.

and then it hits you. rafe is still in bed with you. and this isn’t your apartment, this is still the camerons house.

his arm is still wrapped around you, his body still beside yours. your heart skips a beat, confusion quickly flooding your chest. this isn’t how it was supposed to go. you were supposed to wake up in your own world, in your own bed. this isn’t real.

another day?

you sit up suddenly, your breath catching in your throat as you check your body, running your hands along your arms, your chest, your legs, feeling for anything that might seem off. but it all feels real. your skin, your muscles, the headache—it’s all real.

your eyes go wide as you look around the room, trying to make sense of what’s happening. the bed, the walls, everything is just as it was last night. rafe is still asleep beside you and your mind races, struggling to grasp the reality of the situation.

you didn’t wake up in the real world. you’re still here.

a/n: HASHTAG L O L (guys i panicked how do u explain the twist that y/n is gonna be in this alternate reality withour sounding corny). post-credits scene ahh ending 😭

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fxtalitygod · 7 months ago

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X. ~Survival~

Genre: Historical AU, angst, mature, suggestive, arranged-marriage

Warnings: Dark themes, gore, graphic imagery, theme/depictions of horror, body horror, swearing/language, suggestive, pregnancy, mentions and acts of suicide, arguments, mentions of adult murder, Pet name (Little Flower 6-10x) implied Stockholm Syndrome, grief imagery, images/depictions of dead bodies, child death/murder, character death(s), slight misogynistic themes (if you squint), dubcon/noncon (not any actual smut other than vague mentions of sex), implied postpartum, implied survivors guilt

Word Count: 3.5k

A/N: Today is a new day and after I got home from work and did some fine-tuning, I finally posted the FINAL CHAPTER (not including the epilogue) of Survival!!! I honestly find it funny that I had originally planned for this story to be a short series and it just spiraled into two years of writing! HAHAHAHAA!!!

JJK Mlist•Taglist Rules• • Pt.I • Pt. II • Pt. III • Pt. IV • Pt. V • Pt. VI • Pt.VII • Pt. VIII • Pt. IX • Pt. X • Epilogue

Emptiness.

It was a feeling that you bitterly greeted after having abandoned it six years ago. It was disappointing, but welcome nonetheless. You wished it was under different circumstances. You did not know which circumstances but knew it was anything other than this.

After the destruction of your life, everything went back to the beginning. You were rehomed in a new village and a different temple, though you could not tell much of the difference. Those blank walls still drove you to insanity. The marriage ceremonies had resumed and more children began crawling the halls in a matter of months.

Sukuna had seemingly lost interest in you after the incident. You had finally snapped, extinguishing the anticipation for the hopes that you would one day. Despite his seeming lack of interest, you were still watched over with diligence, still resided in his chambers, and still acquired a caretaker.

Your mental forces were deteriorating, and it was clear from the blank expression that graced your face. You assumed that Sukuna acknowledged that and decided to have a sitter stay on top of you if you were to do something unexpected– much like what you had done to your village.

The curse user knew the extent of your rage, but he did not quite expect you to leave your home in ruins, to burn your family into nothing but ash. Little to your knowledge, a part of him admired you for that; however, the words that left your mouth after the act had been done brought him a discomfort that neither himself could explain.

From the way he was rutting in you currently, you could not tell. Another attempt of impregnating you. Years ago, you would have had a mind to beg him to stop, and when you could not accomplish that, feign pleasure. You used to want to please Sukuna not for his benefit but your own. Now all you cared about was embracing the feeling of that emptiness as you merely felt the man fucking you: soundless, motionless, thoughtless.

It took a matter of months before you were with child again; however, unlike before, this pregnancy was worse. In the physical aspect, you were overall healthy, but your mental health was far from good. You were a husk of the woman you once were, having lost all ambition for your future. Even when spontaneous thoughts of what life would be like outside the temple, you could not help but feel nauseous.

Guilt.

There were times you wished you could have blamed it on your pregnancy and escape the reality of the issue, but your mind would not allow it. You were repulsed with yourself and could not help but feel like you were betraying your twins by just the simple notion that you were alive, and to think of a future for yourself without them revolted you beyond compare. Your pregnancy did not make it any better.

Most women in the temple thought of pregnancy as a fresh start after losing their previous offspring; a new chance to impress their husband– a sickening point of view; however, you could not be upset with them. Deep down, you believed they had been just as afraid as you were upon their arrival when their village elders proclaimed them the next tribute to Sukuna. They more than likely had a plan to make it out of this hell and made promises to return to their families, but somewhere down the line, all the manipulation, physical strain, and mental stress, caused them to accept their fates and try to make the best out of it, losing themselves in the process.

You were not so lucky.

If pregnancy was a punishment before, it was a curse now. Knowing you were to have another child brought you great remorse. Anytime you were to look or even feel your bump, you could not help but think of the past... to think of your twins. It felt like you were betraying them, trying to unconsciously replace them even though your pregnancy was out of your control.

The way you would eat at yourself could have been considered torture.

Besides the normal work around the temple, you would spend most of your evenings in a dark and unoccupied room, keeping to yourself. No one dared to disrupt you, mostly out of fear due to the knowledge of your power. Few left you space out of respect, knowing the pain you were going through; however, sometimes you wished they would walk through that door, hoping they would attempt to comfort you.

It would have been a good distraction from your running mind.

Those dark and quiet rooms gave you time to think and reflect. You realized there were many things you had undermined and denied for your own sanity. The list could go on, some minor, some major…and the major miscalculations stuck out like a sore thumb.

Trimester One.

Despite your efforts, your village nor your family would have ever accepted your children– Sukuna's blood coursed through their veins, and that was enough to consider them a monstrosity. Your hopes of escaping with them and living a happy life were an illusion you conjured up to keep a drive in you.

Trimester Two.

Whether you liked it or not, your twins would not stay innocent forever. The twins were under Sukuna's guidance, no thanks to your pact, and they absolutely adored him. The twins blindly trusted him with their entire beings and would have believed anything Sukuna had taught them was for good, and you knew for a fact that is how your partner would have spun it. Their acts would have been malicious and cruel and they would not have even known...and despite your want to tell them the truth, the constraints of your pact would have stopped you from doing so.

Trimester Three.

Even if you had successfully run away with your son and daughter in hand, the life the three of you would have lived would have been far from peaceful. You and the children were proven valuable assets to Sukuna; to think that your husband would give you all up so easily was foolish. The curse-user would have hunted you down to the ends of the world until you were back in his grasp.

And as you sat there holding your new baby girl, tears streaming down your face as you listened to her whimpers, you hoped she'd grow up to be a fool; a strong, but foolish girl. If your daughter grew up to be a fool, the world could not hurt her as it had hurt you. If she becomes a fool, she would not have to feel the burden you were feeling.

You hated that you hoped for her, hated the fact that you loved and cared for her after laying eyes on her small figure. The whole scene was pitiful. The arms of a mother holding her child close to her bosom as if shielding them from the world– the effort could be appreciated but was futile because the looming threat was already hovering over you as he inspected his creation. If his presence was not unsettling enough, his hum of satisfaction horrified you, causing you more tears.

"I should have killed myself that morning. It would have saved me a lot of heartache..." you whispered, repeating the words you had mentioned over a year ago.

Months back into motherhood you found yourself questioning yourself and your emotional availability every time you looked at your daughter. You were doing all the right things, but performing the tasks felt heavy on your shoulders, and the smiles you painted on your face felt like they were caked on. None of it felt real. There was no doubt you cared for your little girl, but you had to admit that the task was tiring– caring was tiring.

You thought the feeling would end, believed it was temporary, but days turned into months, and months turned into a year.

You had just finished your daughter's first inspection and were now in your sleeping chambers with your husband. You both stood there silent and unmoving, staring at each other with hardly any indication of who was willing to speak first. Fortunately, your daughter was the first to break the silence, whining as she clung to you. You sighed as you understood the child needed attention, moving the baby into a better position to lightly bounce her, attempting to calm her down.

"You know, I thought you would be overjoyed to be blessed with another child, Y/n," Sukuna sounded as he studied you.

"Whatever do you mean? I am nothing but pleased," you blankly responded, focusing entirely on the little girl bouncing in your arms.

Silence once again.

You could feel his stare burning into you; feel his agitation radiating off his skin as he looked for a real answer. Sukuna was not an idiot, you were aware of that, but his meaningless probing was getting on your nerves. You would much rather he got to the point than play his mind games. If he was going to be indirect, you would only do the same.

"Do you think of them when you look at her?"

There was a halt in your movements, breath hitching as you did so. You slowly moved your head to look at the man before you, your gaze piercing. You had every intention to avoid the question, but your mouth betrayed your mind.

“What do you think?” You snipped, a grimace forming onto your features.

“I could make you forget, simply remove them from your memory to rid you of this…ailment.”

For what felt like the thousandth time of your life, you could feel your eyes widen, however, this was the most appalling statement your husband had made. Had he really suggested ridding your memories with your twins? Had he no remorse? Of course not, why would he? The children were a means to an end, nothing more than a few pawns in his plan. Any love and affection the father had shown his son and daughter were shown with calculation and precision– there was no meaning behind those affections.

"You sick bastard."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me."

"Y/n, I would advise that you watch your tone," a warning glare, "If I did not know any better, I would say that you were speaking out of turn when I am offering you such a gift– I do not offer such things lightly."

"Well it is good that you know better," the seething anger bubbling in your chest was choosing your words at this point, "How could you suggest such a thing?"

"I am doing you a mercy, Y/n, you are letting the past consume you from the inside out, and sooner or later you will become the image of your agony."

"You know nothing because if you did you would be in the same state as I am. You speak as if you know sympathy, but your words are honeyed to keep me in your grasp!"

Your breath was heavy as you confronted Sukuna, glaring daggers into his soul as you watched him step closer.

"Your perception can be quite bothersome at times, Little Flower; however, I believe it is what I admire most about you. I think it is why I chose you...why I love you."

Love.

"Love."

Your laughter was hysterical. The tears welling up in your eyes from pure disbelief and humor. Sukuna Ryomen himself has admitted to loving you for the second time. This time claiming he chose you because he loves you.

What a joke.

"Love me?" you choked between giggles, "Sukuna, you would not know love if it hit you in the face. Like I said before, your words are coated with the sweetest sugars to keep me around, to bring me hope, and quite frankly, the sweetness has become dull and bitter," a pause as you caught your breath, "You do not love me Sukuna. As I have stated, you love what I can provide you."

Silence had greeted you both for what seemed like the millionth time, but you could have been wrong, you lost count at this point.

"I understand the concept of love, more than you think, Little Flower; however, love has little meaning. So you are right, I do not love you, I value you. Is that not greater than love?"

You scoffed.

"You are going to die alone and I am glad that you will."

A soft chuckle sounded from your husband before feeling a strange feeling at the back of your head. You could feel the kanzashi pin moving in your hair as Sukuna played with the accessory.

"I highly doubt that."

Those four words had caused your heart to sink, bringing you more fear than you had ever experienced in your entire life. Without thought, you backed away from the man towering over you. You shook your head as you held eye contact with Sukuna, almost stumbling on your feet as you felt for the door and clumsily exited the room. You had your daughter close to your chest as you entered the hallway.

What little you had of your life came crashing down instantly as the gravity of your reality unfolded to its full extent.

You would never be free and although that was a realization you had made long ago...this time you had no hope to convince you otherwise.

So what did you do?

You ran.

You flew through the corridors to the gardens, arriving with heavy breath. Scanning the grounds you searched for the only individual who could help you right now. The moment your eyes registered the woman, you quickly approached, hardly paying attention to anything along your path as you made your way over.

"Y/n-"

"I have something for you!" you interrupted, holding out a pin you had stored and concealed for years, never knowing the right moment to give it to the woman before you.

The woman who had lost her sick and poor son on your very first inspection day.

You watched as her eyes welled up immediately, taking the pin and inspecting it as if to make sure it was real. When she was able to confirm the little trinket was indeed not a figment of her imagination, she held it close to her chest, letting her silent sobs escape before looking at you.

"Thank you. Thank you so much. But why are you giving this to me?"

You looked around hesitantly before pitifully looking at her, letting your walls crumble to reveal all your pain and suffering.

"I need your help."

"Uraume!"

"Yes, Sukuna-sama," the right hand responded.

"I would like you to gather the women and children from the inspection, I have an announcement."

"Yes, Sukuna-sama, I'll get right on it."

With that Uraume disappeared, leaving Sukuna in his quarters alone. The man paced in his chambers, reflecting on the prior conversation from earlier. The talk did not have the most satisfying ending, but much like the other unfortunate discussions that had been held between the two of you, this would be another problem that would resolve itself in due time.

The move would help move that process faster.

This village had quickly bored the tyrant, as they were quick to promise vengeance and destruction upon his empire. Same-old-same-old. So with that, it was time to move on to the next village after leaving this one behind in ashes.

"Sukuna-sama, the women and children do not appear to be in their chambers or the gardens, the workstations are abandoned too.

"What?"

Without a thought, Sukuna stormed out of the room and into the halls, those blank walls making the temple look more abandoned knowing that everyone had seemingly disappeared. He looked through every room he managed to pass, even using his abilities to sense the faintest amount of cursed energy. For a while, he came up with nothing, but after catching a familiar aura, he briskly started to follow the direction it was coming from.

The curse-user found himself in the main hall, where he saw his wives and children gathered. The husband would be lying if he claimed he was not confused with the situation, but he would not show that. Instead, Sukuna decided to try and decipher the scenario.

Upon first glance, it had seemed that the women and children were gathered for a usual gathering, but upon closer observation, something was off. The looks of the individuals in the room seemed to differ. Some women seemed relieved, others looked almost proud, and others...well, the last of the women looked as if they were being held there against their will.

As the monster-of-a-man continued to scan the room, he finally managed to find you, standing in the center of the room, your head held high; however, you looked exhausted, broken. It brought that familiar discomforting feeling to Sukuna, the same feeling when you had spoken those words after you had burned down your village.

"What is this, Little Flower?" Sukuna questioned with some amusement behind his voice, masking his indifference.

"Do not call me that," you spoke, your voice barely above a whisper as it softly echoed in the room.

"Y/n-sama ple-"

"SHUT YOUR MOUTH!" you yelled, successfully silencing the crying woman who had shouted for you.

The atmosphere was tense, and he would tread carefully because Sukuna was no fool.

"What do you want, Little Flower? An apology? I can, obviously, give that to you, but we both know it would not solve much. So what is it you truly want?"

"To leave..." you weakly announced, watching as Sukuna gradually approached before stopping in his footsteps.

"Well then, Little Flower, you have gathered yourself and all your companions just in time, I was ready to announce our departure from this village. You get what you want, righ-"

"That's not what I want." you interrupted.

Sukuna was silent, his brow twitching in irritation as he stared at you, stopping mid-stride.

"Then what do you want?"

"I want the offer you gave me back on the table?" you quickly responded.

"And what offer would you be referring to, Little Flower?"

"On my very first inspection with my twins, you offered me to kill everyone in this room– I want to change my answer."

Your husband chuckled, "Do you not think the circumstances have changed a little, my dear? I gave you that option years ago, what makes you think that is something I am still willing to offer?"

"Because you love me..."

"Now you are willing to embrace that love?"

"Only if you do this one last thing for me. I will let you love me until my last mortal days, and me in return, just as long as everyone in this room dies."

A sly smirk, "As you wish, Little Flow-"

"By my hands!" you interjected.

Delight was an expression that Sukuna could not hold back at those words.

"It's a deal, Y/n."

"Perfect."

With those words sealing the pact, you took no further wait in your next actions. You ignored all the shouts and screams of those who wished to live, ridding yourself of whatever empathy you once had– you had to admit, it made things a lot easier when setting the room ablaze. Hearing their screams of agony and pain was a lot easier when you managed to wash out the humanity within you.

You could only feel relief after hearing all the shrieks and wails die out into nothing but silence. The room was filled with nothing but fire, bone, and ashes, the smell of burning flesh was prominent; however, that did not stop him from approaching you.

"I love you, Little Flower." Sukuna proclaimed, bringing his forehead to yours before softly kissing you.

He pulled away to look into your eyes, admiring them momentarily before smiling softly. Some may have mistaken it for a look of endearment, but it was a look of satisfaction. He had successfully taken your pride, dignity, and hope– he had taken all of you.

"I love you too."

And because you had no pride, dignity, or hope, left to hold on to...

It made it so much easier to bring that poison-coated dagger to your flesh and slit your belly.

For Sukuna everything went in slow motion, immediately swatting the dagger from your hand to the ground before cupping your wound, blood covering his hand in seconds. The desperate individual tried using his reverse curse technique to revert the damage, but it was pointless as you were resisting. For the first time in a long time, Sukuna felt genuine fear as he watched you slowly slip away from reality. And as everything started to play back to speed, Sukuna had a realization.

"Where is our daughter?!" The four-armed monstrosity yelled upon notice of your empty arms, continuing at attempts to stop your bleeding with little success.

Your smile made his heart drop.

"Gone." you sputtered, blood slipping from your cooling lips before going completely limp.

"...Gone where? Little Flower..."

"Little Flower!"

"LITTLE FLOWER, ANSWER ME!"

"Y/N!!!!!!!!"

You upheld your deal...you loved him for your last mortal days, it just so happened that day was seconds into a day, and as Sukuna sat there holding your motionless form, he could not have regretted anything more in his life. Making that deal was the best thing to happen in your life because in the end...

...You won the game of Survival.

And you hoped that your daughter could one day do the same.

Until the epilogue yall... (｀∀´)Ψ

Taglist:

@littlemochi @mistalli @youngbeansprout @bbylime @bangtan-forever1479 @idktbhloley @izayas-rings @o3o-aya @pyschopotatomeme @persephonehemingway @otomaniac @meforpr3sident @fourcefulcupid @nezuscribe @my-simp-land @zukuphilia @niya729 @spiritofstatic @bbittersw33t @kashasenpai @decaysan @honeybaegle @ygslvr @outrofenty @esposadomd @ali2426 @anmath @yazzzmints @lovingnahida @sincerest-one @rosemaydone321 @j0dios @k-ki3rd @maki-zenin1944 @shadowywizardarcade @ae-mius @xiangping-28 @loaves4me @aloraaaxcrystalzx

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 months ago

Text

upon his grace 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, power dynamics, cheating, bullying, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You are called to court after the end of the civil war, but find yourself facing many challenges, expected and not. (fantasy medieval au)

Characters: king!Steve Rogers

Note: bro, Idk how I start at point A and get to fucking outer space. Also happy bday to Steverino.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

The gardens of Astra Castle are unlike any you’ve seen before. Certainly, you’ve never been to a royal castle previously. Your father’s own hold is modest, still bearing the wooden foundation, whereas the rich lords have poured mortar and built in stone.

So, it is a great honour to be among the noble women chosen to serve the queen. Most unexpected. As a daughter of a lower house, it is rather unusual, but it comes with the newly set writ tabled at the end of the uprising. That is how your father tells it anyhow.

King Steven is as newly crowned as he is newlywed. After a lengthy revolt against the previous king, the land has settled, and upon his victory, the new ruler promises the expansion of prosperity to all. The very precedence of his war rested on the greed of the former court and its covetous lords.

To those who took up his mantle, he has made good his word. To the commoners, he has sent bread and ale, livestock and alms; to the nobles, he has granted titles and lands. You were of the same doubt as your father, however, you expected to be forgotten in the disarray.

Yet, you were not. You’re there with several other ladies. A set of blond twins borne of a duke and duchess, the sole heir of a widowed countess, and several earl’s daughters such as yourself. Unlike them, you do not wear satin or silk, not muslin either. You have only the dyed linen your mother attempted to enhance with some embroidery around the cuffs and collar.

“Marcia and Marigold,” the twins introduce themselves as you cluster together in the gardens, grooms and servants bustling around carriages and chests. “Lady Calliope,” they call out the countess’ daughter, “we met prior, yes? Your mother is near Estrela.”

“She is,” Calliope answers in her stern manner, herself seeming a widow in her black dress. The shimmery fabric makes up for its single tone.

“Ameri, Dorida, and... Selene,” they point to the other girls, themselves clothed in scarlet, rose, and azure respectively. “We know the earls, your fathers. They gathered at our father’s hold for the battle near Caffre.”

The twins take turns speak so that sometimes you cannot track whose lips are moving. It is even that they trade off in the middle of sentences. You find yourself almost as lost by their words as your new surroundings.

“And you...” The twins turn their jade eyes upon you. It is there you have found the only difference in them; they have the same heights, the same hair, the same gowns even, but there is a sliver of grey through Marcia’s green iris. “We haven’t figured who you are.”

“My father is an earl. In Woodsdam.”

“Woodsdam,” they echo in unison and share a look. They are perplexed.

“A minor house,” Calliope provides. “a farmer more than a noble, if I’m not mistaken.”

“We have vast lands and we tend to them, yes,” you assure. You expect their condescension. Your father warned you for it but he bid that you keep your chin up. The king has given him a mission of his own and so you will represent the family for the time. “We keep our people well and we fed the king’s troops when they marched."

“Mm, sounds very... common,” Marigold grins and her sister snorts into her hand.

“We know many lords like us, yes. They work hard amidst their vassals. It keeps the lands strong so that we may better serve the crown,” you return evenly.

Your mother helped you prepare. She coached you to keep your manners and your spine. The latter is much more difficult as you face these ladies and their bobbles with only a ribbon in your hair and a pair of patched gloves.

“Woodsdam? I think I rode through it once on the way to my grandfather’s summer castle,” Ameri tuts, “it was little more than a swamp.”

“It must’ve been the spring rains, perhaps, lady,” you offer.

“Summer house,” she enunciates, “one travels there in the summer.”

Your cheek twitches at her barbed retort. Very well. You are not used to their sharpness. Their chittering has thus far centered on gossip and the cost of their new caps.

“A wonder the pauper’s daughter received an invite. Are you certain you can read, lady?” Dorida snipes and looks to the twins for approval. You notice how they all tend to do so.

“It was sent to my father, Lord Eldon,” your voice quavers. You are not so strong as your mother bid you to be.

They cackle at your meek response, “the precious maiden of Woodsdam.”

You put your head down as the activity all around threatens to swallow you up. You wish the ground would rent and you would fall right through. All your excitement has dissipated to a sludge in your veins. You touch your cheek as you try not to show your embarrassment.

“The Lord of Woodsdam,” a deep voice startles you as boots approach from behind, “is that what I heard?”

You stiffen up as the ladies before you hush and blink, almost in tandem. They curtsey as their faces wash over in shock and you turn to face the newcomer. A man in a deep blue vest over black sleeves and grey breeches. He wears belt of gold and a circlet across his brow in a similar hue. It is that which betrays his statues.

You lower your eyes and mimic the other women, mortified to be faced with new king so informally. You would not think him wandering out in the yard. Still, he has vowed to be unlike the former leige. That he would be of the people.

“King Steven, your majesty,” the others titter in a messy chant and you murmur your own propriety as you back away. You find yourself still to the shoulder of the king as the other ladies give no room for you to join.

The vision of him stains your mind. He is tall, with dark blond tresses that extend past his neck, and blue eyes which put his own attire to shame. He has a jaw which looks etched in stone and a bearing which matches his rank. He is tall and broad and a finely built knight.

“It is an honour,” Marcia says most boldly.

“You may rise,” he allows in a breezy timbre. “I did hear my wife would receive new ladies. Young ladies.”

“Your majesty,” the murmur rolls across each lip.

“It is much needed. We have so many established ladies at court and yet we need to think of the future. Of the next generation,” he declares as he emphasizes his words with his large hand. You watch his garnet ring to keep from so brazenly looking him in the face.

“Certainly, your majesty,” Marcia and Marigold chime in unision.

“And don’t worry for there are many young lords as well,” the king laughs galely at the quip which makes the ladies, yourself included, blush. “Ah, then, Woodsdam I believe we were speaking of...”

You blink and glance at the other ladies. They are cowed, unsure if they were overheard in their derision. You hope as much as they that they were not. It is rather unflattering.

“My father, Lord Eldon,” you explain, “your majesty.”

“You? You are the young lady of Woodsdam I heard so much of.”

“You did? Er, your majesty,” you curtsey apologetically; unnecessarily.

“Certainly, I did. Your father was a great assistance in me holding counsel with the lower lords. He is very patient. “When not about his duty, he spoke of you oft. Though what matters are more important than family?”

“Yes, your majesty,” you can’t help a smile, “my father is a very kind man.”

“Kind and courageous. I’m certain you’ve inherited as much,” the king praises, “and these other ladies. The twins who belong to Mawsley, the Countess of Clovers daughter, and the three earls daughters from the White Plains.”

The ladies each bow their heads as he proclaims them by their forebearers’ titles. You watch from aside, feeling even more out-of-place. The king recites them all proudly as he extends a finger for each.

“Allow me myself to extend a welcome to Astra. When you are sorted, my wife shall receive you all and have you acquainted with the grounds. I hope you enjoy them, we’ve had the gardeners at work day and night,” he pronounces, “for now, I must be off, for a king has many obligations and not so much time.”

He bows and turns on his heel, marching off with his shoulder straight and head high. He walks as a soldier does, not some lord. You’ve seen the difference before, more recently in the aftermath of battle. A soldier is more akin to a farmer, much as your father, whereas a Lord tends to keep his steps tight.

“Wow, oh my,” Dorida fans herself, “he is rather handsome.”

“Oh yes,” Marcia and Marigold say, the latter forging ahead, “we met him at our father’s castle. He is ever so charming.”

“Hm, and the queen would love to hear it, I’m certain,” Calliope intones brusquely.

“The queen is not here,” Ameri sneers, “so what does it matter? Besides, is it so wrong to state a truth?”

“He is very elegant,” Selene agrees.

“Much too kind, as well,” Marigold snips, “Woodsdam? He speaks as if it more than some paltry farmhouse.”

“You’d never even heard of it,” Calliope remarks.

“And how had you, hm? You seem the bookish type. Perhaps you should leave the maps to the men. What good will a river or road do for a widow’s welp?”

“Needn’t be cruel,” Calliope rebuffs.

“Pity if this is the lot they send,” Marcia shakes her head as the sisters share another cryptic look.

You keep to yourself. That is all you can do. It is better to watch and learn than to leap and land wherever you might. Your mother always said so and she was your best teacher.

“Right, there must be some maid who might show us to our rooms,” Marigold stands on her toes and waves at each passing servant. “I tire of the sunlight and boorish company.”

👑

You have two trunks awaiting you in your chambers. Not as the other ladies who had at least a dozen each. Less humble than your lunger are the rooms themselves.

There is an antechamber hung with tapestries showing wildlife and flora, a table set for two and cushioned bench by the window. The bedroom is draped in similar hangings with a four-post bed and a grand hearth. A desk, another bench, a woven carpet, and fine accouterments on square tables. And a closet for the commode as well and a pot in the far corner of the bedchamber.

If only your mother and father could see this. They would be just as amazed. You can’t help but admire all of it. To touch the curtains as you approach the window and stare off at the afternoon sky. The gardens are a medley of hues; petals and thorns; leaves and dirt. It’s all so wonderful, you can still hardly believe it.

Seems those other ladies can’t either. You can’t help but think of their words anon. They said so outrightly what you doubted inwardly. You don’t belong here. It must be so clear to them.

You lean on the ledge and peer down into the garden pathways. It is almost a labyrinth with how intricately they’ve laid out the hedges. You lower yourself down to your elbows and cross your arms as you sigh.

Your eyes are drawn from the swaying roses to the dark speck that appears below. You squint at first. From the second floor, it is harder to discern. It is the glimmer of gold in his hair and the defined gait that gives away the king. For an instant, you believe you might be dreaming.

He walks along one path and to the next. There is another with him. A man with darker hair and a stauncher figure. They speak and stop just as they enter a circled walkway centered by a large vase of flowers. The other man talks, though you can hear neither, and the king rubs his chin.

You should turn away. They might think you an eavesdropper. Oh, too late! You don’t dare move as the king tilts his head. You wouldn’t want to pique his attention. You cannot tell if he has spotted you. Not until he raises a hand and waves. The other man stops and looks to follow the gesture.

You stand up straight but before you can flee in horror, you recall yourself. It is improper to turn your back to the king. You lift your hand and return the wave. He dips his head and turns to clap his companion’s shoulder, pointing him onward.

Oh, you hope he is not unhappy. If you pray, perhaps he will not have recognised you. You needn’t an enemy of the king as well.

#steve rogers #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x peggy #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #upon his grace #au #medieval au #mcu #marvel #captain america #avengers

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ericsprincess · 3 months ago

Text

open the keys, open the mind

nc-17, Jeong Jaehyun/Reader, Na Jaemin/Reader, Jeong Jaehyun/Na Jaemin, step-sibling incest, Jaehyun and Jaemin are step-brothers, modern au, m/f/m threesome, vaginal sex, oral sex, cunnilingus,

~~~

Your boyfriend brings you home for the first time.

~~~

Oh damn, you curse in your head and congratulate yourself on this absolute catch, as your hand sneaks under Jaehyun’s cozy sweater and you discover that he has a set of very chiseled abs that he was until now successfully hiding under his cute hoodies and grandpa sweaters. You can’t resist running up his body with your hand almost up to his chest, savoring the feel of each hard separate muscle, feeling the divots between them and the warmth of his skin. He likes it, likes being touched and sighs into your mouth as you kiss and touch him and the sound of it makes you smile a little. His voice is so nice. He, in his entirety, is just so nice.

You have him pressed against the door of his apartment, kissing him desperately with one hand on his neck, pulling him down, closer to you, and the other one wherever you can reach, while he is trying to blindly put the key into the keyhole to let you both in. He’s not even close to his target, just barely poking the door with each failed attempt, but neither of you pays much attention to it, despite the urgency you’re making out with - you both want more, both want to quickly get into the apartment, into Jaehyun’s bed where you can finally tear the clothes off each other, but neither is yet willing to take even a quick pause to unstick from the other to get an actual move on this.

But the desperation is real though - you and Jaehyun have been dating casually for three months and just last week you have mutually decided that you like each other enough to make it official. And it made you really happy. Everything with Jaehyun is just so comfortable and easy. So much, it even feels too easy at times. At first you weren’t sure about it, you were afraid he would turn out to be a pushover, or worse, an indecisive manchild that will expect you to do all the work in the relationship, but he’s far from that. His assertiveness is quiet, his boundaries are firm and his opinions are always there, even if he doesn’t always feel like expressing them. So for the most part, he’s happy to let you decide about everything you want, simply taking pleasure in watching you getting your way, but ever so often he likes to surprise you with something of his own initiative - whether a date idea or an unexpected, very thoughtful gift, clearly remembering all of the drivel you’ve been flooding him with. Not only that, but despite him not being that much of a talker (unlike yourself), you always manage to find out something interesting about him. You’re always looking forward to getting to know every little random fact about him. Which means you’ve been complementing each other very well so far - he’s not stifling your spirit, rather enhancing it. He makes your days brighter. And you hope that it’s mutual.

So today, after your first real date as a couple, there is an event you’ve been both carefully skirting about and silently anticipating with somewhat unspoken agreement - it’s going to be the first time you’re going to have sex. Well, not technically, since, to your endless shame, your first meeting was a random (very) drunk hook up in a dirty club bathroom, where you let Jaehyun fingerbang you until you saw stars, while he was humping your thigh like a horny dog and cumming in his pants. You don’t remember much else from that evening, just that you somehow managed to exchange numbers and then the morning after you woke up with the worst hangover in your life and one unread message - “hey, it’s jaehyun. do you remember last night?”

At first you felt too embarrassed to reply, but hey - it’s not like he wasn't there with you, doing all those things together. So you replied and a day later you found yourself sitting in a cafe with a very handsome man whose oddly preppy clothes and calm demeanor would never hint on the fact that he would hook up with someone in a club bathroom. Or that he would even go to a club in the first place. But he was cute and funny and you were sold on him from the beginning. And when you blushingly suggested that if anyone asks, you should just say you met on Tinder (“like normal losers”), he laughed with his deep warm voice and when he nodded with a smile that had his dimples showing, you felt it in your heart.

Which brings you here - into the poorly lit hallway in front of Jaehyun’s apartment when he’s finally managed to open the front door. You stumble inside together, laughing as Jaehyun is hastily trying to take the key out and close the door at the same time, but when you turn towards the living room, you both stop in your tracks at the unexpected sight.

There on the sofa in front of the TV lies a young man, lazily splayed, with one hand in a bag of chips and the other scratching his belly. He looks up from the sofa as you interrupt, but his face shows only indifference. And he’s very handsome - with bleached blonde, almost platinum hair and a beautiful, doll-like face with big eyes. He seems to be younger than Jaehyun (a student, maybe?), dressed in just a t-shirt and sweatpants and looks like he’s at home, which is strange, since as far as you know, Jaehyun is supposed to live alone.

“Hi,” the stranger greets, with a surprisingly deep-voiced drawl that does not match his pretty face at all. He smiles a second later, as if he’s suddenly remembered he’s supposed to do so, but it’s not a sincere or a warm smile, rather an oddly predatory one, full of teeth. It makes you almost nervous, despite nothing about him being outwardly hostile, not by a long shot.

“Oh..hi?” you answer. “Who is that?” you whisper to Jaehyun, confused. You didn’t expect a visitor putting a damper on your plans.

“I don’t know him,” mumbles Jaehyun, while scratching his nose.

“I’m his brother,” drawls the man from the sofa, not bothering to get up to properly introduce himself. He does put away the bag of chips though and brushes off the crumbs off his t-shirt.

“Stepbrother.”

“Same difference,” replies the stranger.

An awkward silence falls onto the room. Nobody is saying anything. Jaehyun seems fully focused on an imaginary spot on the carpet and you don’t feel like it’s your place to speak up, since you’re the guest here. So you’re just kind of standing awkwardly, not entirely sure how the atmosphere suddenly got so tense. Why is it so tense even? you think. It’s just a brother. You don’t understand why Jaehyun is suddenly acting almost like a child caught stealing cookies.

There should not be a reason for Jaehyun to be so awkward at the situation of his brother meeting his girlfriend. Ironically, the stranger on the sofa does not seem awkward at all. In fact, it’s almost as if he’s enjoying the weird atmosphere.

He’s looking at the two of you with interrogative eyes and you know he’s already put two and two together. His older brother, Jaehyun, brought home a woman and the purpose of the visit is clear as a day, from the way you stumbled into the apartment, the way how your clothes are already a bit messed up and your lips are red from kissing.

"Can I watch? There is nothing on TV right now," he asks suddenly, not bothering with any pretense. His unwavering smile is unsettling and you feel as if his eyes could see right through you and straight up read all your thoughts.

“Just ignore him,” says Jaehyun, suddenly awakened from his thoughts, but looking very tired and grabbing you by your hand and pulling you along as he’s heading out of the living room. “Don’t bother us Jaemin, I mean it.” he throws over his shoulder, not waiting for Jaemin’s reply.

He pulls you into his (nice, tidy and clean, as you quickly take a notice) bedroom and closes the door behind you. He sighs and rubs his hand over his face.

“I’m really sorry, I didn’t expect him to be here,” he apologizes.

“Does he not live with you? He looked all cozy there,” you ask, confused.

“No, thank god. He has summer vacations and knows how to pick a lock. He comes and goes whenever he likes and usually it’s not a problem. I guess I did not think about the possibility that he decides that today he likes my sofa more than our parents’ one,” he shakes his head. “Sorry for the surprise. We can postpone the…” Jaehyun vaguely waves his hand, still not quite able to put it into words “if you are not in the mood anymore. I can either drive you home or we can just chill,” he suggests.

“Are you crazy? Our...plans…are still on,” you step closer to him, pulling him into your arms and kissing him softly. “There is nothing that could ruin the mood for me, not with how much I’ve been wanting you ever since the first time, you know?” you laugh into the kiss and he gently squeezes your waist, agreeing. You’re glad he’s also not being deterred by the unexpected company. “I’ve been thinking about this for weeks,” you admit.

And you will not say it out loud but…the thought of Jaehyun’s hot baby brother possibly overhearing you two having sex sounds more appealing than it should.

From then on it’s almost a whirlwind, Jaehyun quickly tears all the clothes off you and pushes you on the bed, letting you softly fall on your back. He takes off his shirt, but is way too impatient to deal with his trousers. His shirt hasn’t even landed on the floor and he’s already kneeling in front of the bed, spreading your legs and diving face first.

He’s eating your pussy with laser focus, as if it were the only thing that mattered at that moment. And he’s clearly not new to this, he knows how to start slowly, how to entice and make you want more. It doesn’t seem like he will need any kind of guidance whatsoever, so you just lie down and enjoy the warm and wet feeling and the stimulation of his tongue and lips on you.

But then, a few minutes into this, when you’re already warmed up enough and you can feel the arousal building, the bedroom door behind Jaehyun slowly and silently opens, revealing Jaemin, standing in the doorway. He doesn’t announce himself and makes no sound - just leans his shoulder on the doorway and watches.

You gasp from the surprise, but you realize quickly you don’t want Jaehyun to find out, not yet. So you distract from your mistake by grabbing a fistful of his black hair, pushing you more into your pussy. And he likes that, he enjoys the pain of his hair being pulled, you can tell from a muffled moan he lets out and the way he squeezes your thighs, holding you firm and close to his face.

A minute passes, with Jaehyun dutifully eating you out like a last meal, not knowing that you’re squirming so much not only because of his tongue getting you close to your orgasm, but also because of the way Jaemin is staring at you. Intense, contemplating, prying cold eyes cataloguing every reaction you make whenever Jaehyun changes the tempo or flickers his tongue just right.

“Is he good?” asks Jaemin casually, as if he couldn't tell from the obvious way you’re enjoying yourself.

You can feel Jaehyun tense for a second, but he doesn’t stop doing what he’s doing. His eyes open and flicker up to take a quick look at you though. He doesn't need to check for your comfort, you’re not in distress, rather the opposite. The combination of Jaehyun’s skill, the unashamed voyeur and the fact that Jaehyun won’t stop despite knowing he’s being watched by his brother is so powerful, that you are coming almost immediately, holding on to Jaehyun’s head for dear life as you’re twisting in pleasure, that’s so strong you don’t even remember the last time you came like that.

With Jaehyun’s help you slowly come down, and when your orgasm is finally done, you let his hair go. He straightens up, sitting on his heels in front of the bed. His hair is a mess, he’s blushing red up to his chest, sweaty, with his face wet and glistening from your juices. He’s still catching his breath.

Jaemin moves from the doorway and sits on the bed right next to you. He looks at kneeling Jaehyun who looks up back at him.

“Can I have a taste?” he whispers and leans forward, as if he were about to kiss him. Jaehyun flinches at the last moment, but he realizes he’s being fooled when Jaemin only licks him up the cheek playfully. “Tasty.” he winks back at you, smiling his shark smile again.

Jaehyun looks at him questioningly, with one eyebrow raised.

“There is still nothing on TV,” Jaemin shrugs, as if the explanation should have been obvious.

Jaehyun stares at him, contemplating, and then at you. You can see the imaginary wheels spinning in his head, trying to sense out whether you’re ok with his brother being here. Whether he’s ok with his brother being here.

“Y/N, what do you think?” he turns to you. Oh. He’s in.

You take a second to pretend you’re actually thinking, even though there is absolutely no need to.

“What do I think? I think you should go kiss your brother,” you smile smugly, almost vibrating with anticipation of Jaehyun’s reaction.

“Stepbrother,” he whispers, grabbing Jaemin roughly by his jaw and kissing him, pushing his tongue into Jaemin’s mouth immediately. It’s not like any of the kisses he’s ever shared with you. It’s a lot more aggressive, and you can see how Jaemin melts into it, immediately submitting to Jaehyun’s silent power. You realize you’re similar in this - both full of talk and attitude, but ultimately giving in to the stronger one. Maybe that’s why Jaehyun likes you.

They kiss for a while for your enjoyment, Jaehyun keeping Jaemin firmly under his lead, but eventually letting the kiss become more gentle, almost sweet. It ends with a few cute sweet pecks that Jaehyun gives Jaemin, whose eyes are closed. He’s smiling a little.

“I’ve been thinking about this for years,” Jaemin whispers, almost soundlessly, as they finally separate from each other, and you would laugh at the shared sentiment, except you find that you don’t really want to ruin the moment, But you really get it. It hasn’t been that long for you as for Jaemin, but it doesn’t surprise you in the slightest.

Jaehyun reaches back to his jean pocket and takes out a little foil square. He hands the condom to Jaemin.

“Be good,” he says. It sounds both like a permission and a warning.

Jaemin strips himself in a flash, revealing a bit of his impatience and youthful enthusiasm in an adorable way. One second he’s sitting clothed on a bed, the next he’s naked, settling between your legs while ripping the condom wrapper with his teeth. His body is beautiful. He’s a bit shorter than Jaehyun and he has less muscle too, but he’s not behind in beauty. Just different, younger, not yet having caught up to his older brother. They pose a nice contrast next to each other - gloomy-looking Jaehyun with his black hair and pale skin, the epitome of Snow White beauty, while Jaemin’s skin is golden, hair almost white and his smile is blinding. Handsome pair of brothers, even if not alike at all.

“How does she usually like it?” Jaemin asks Jaehyun as he’s rolling the condom on. “Missionary? From behind?”

But Jaehyun doesn’t answer, instead he looks at you, prompting you to answer by yourself. And of course, Jaemin is quick to catch on that, before you have the chance to reply.

“Oh. You don’t know? Was this supposed to be the first time? And you let me have her before you do?” he scoffs. “Well, aren’t you the perfect boyfriend?” he grins at his brother.

Jaehyun just nods in pretend solemnity.

“Of course I am. And I take care of what’s mine. There will be many other times,” he replies.

“Then missionary will be perfect,” decides Jaemin. “I want her to see me well. First time with a new boyfriend should be memorable.”

He doesn’t waste more time and pushes in. You’re still so wet and relaxed from your first orgasm that there is no resistance or discomfort at all. And you have already started to get aroused just from watching them kiss.

Jaemin feels good, you barely had time to take a glimpse at his cock, but it feels adequate, filling you well and reaching all the right places. His tempo is fast from the start, no doubt thanks to him being too pent up already, but you can’t complain as he’s not being rough with you at all. Not only he fucks you well but also the sight from under him is stunning, as his skin breaks into sweat and glistens, his abs and biceps straining to hold him up. You bring your hands up to grope at his pecs, pull and pinch at his nipples to spur him more, to make him lose his mind. He’s trying to hold his moans back, but every sound he’s not able to contain sounds like music to your ears.

In between being fucked very thoroughly and a sight for gods thats being provided to you, a crackling sound of metal zipper brings your attention back to your boyfriend. Jaehyun unzips his jeans and kicks them off together with his underwear, revealing his hard cock, big and pale with flushed red tip. He’s been hard for so long his precum is dripping in slow sticky drops on the floor. You can’t take your eyes off it and you have a hunch you’re not the only one.

Jaehyun steps closer to the bed next to your head and you don’t wait to be asked. You open your mouth and let him feed you his cock, while you take one hand off Jaemin’s tits and put it on Jaehyun’s cock to suck him better. You savor the taste of his precome, licking it off the tip, letting it drip into your mouth.

It feels like a bliss, being both used and serviced by two hot men, worse, brothers. You’re barely thinking as you’re just enjoying the taste and the presence of your boyfriend’s cock in your mouth and the cock of his brother in your pussy, getting you close to an orgasm.

Your eyes are closed, but as you sense a movement next to your face you blink them opened. Jaemin is leaning forward, his face close to yours and he looks like he would be about to kiss you, were your mouth not full of Jaehyun’s cock. But you know what he’s after. You pull Jaehyun’s cock out of your mouth and offer it to him, letting him lick and suck it along, together with you.

You glimpse up at Jaehyun, who’s been watching all of this unfold, as he immediately, reflexively grabs Jaemin’s hair and you see he looks conflicted whether he should pull him off or push him down to suck his dick more thoroughly. But he notices your eyes and you wink at him playfully and that’s what does it. He pushes Jaemin closer.

Jaehyun, having made up his mind, is now unashamedly moaning, as he’s watching his girlfriend and brother suck his cock together, occasionally sharing a little kiss, tongues touching over him. He’s been close for such a long time and he has barely the mental presence to warn you before he’s cumming all over your face, Jaemin catching some of it in his mouth too. Jaehyun slowly pulls away, squeezing out the last drop into your open mouth and then Jaemin is kissing you full on, spitting Jaehyun’s cum into your mouth too and then licking it all back, all of that while he’s fucking into you, frenzied and wanting nothing else, just to finally cum. You embrace him with both of your hands, one sliding down to squeeze his ass to push it deeper into you and then you’re both coming at once. You feel him twitch inside you as he’s pumping the cum along with your pussy spasming and it feels like double the orgasm for you, and at that moment you’re truly like a one body.

~~~

You’re just about to fall asleep. The bed is so soft and comfortable and you have an armful of a young blond man already fast asleep, with head right on your boobs, the rest of his body wrapped around you tightly like an octopus. Jaemin seems to have taken a liking to you in a matter of hours and has no reservation about showing it. He already planned somewhere where he wants to take you for dinner, while you were idly chatting while waiting for Jaehyun. He refused to tell you where and he didn’t call it a date per se, but…The glint in his eyes was telling enough.

The bed dips a little on your other side as Jaehyun comes back from his shower, smelling all nice and clean and lies down next to you. He reaches over to kiss Jaemin’s forehead and pet his hair gently, then he gives you a sweet good night kiss and turns off the light.

And then you sleep.

~~~

a/n: a wise woman once said “you can’t spell incest without nct”.

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namjoonscoffeeshop · 14 days ago

Text

Deep | Chapter 9

Deep | M.YG ✧ Pairing: Min Yoongi x reader ✧ warning(s): explicit sexual content, angst, explict language, degradation kink, did i mention a bit of angst? spanking, making out w tongue, overstimulation, claiming/possesiveness, multiple orgasms for reader, hes a asshole but its ok cause its yoongi, maniplulation, filthy words, oral sex (both m/f rec), multiple sex scenes, anxiety, cold and detached yoongi, ✧ genre: angst,fluff,smut,fake dating au,contract ✧ synopsis; you're in love with your childhood friend but he does not see you more than just a friend. One day you ask him to be more than just friends, he agrees. ✧ word count: 7.9k ✧ Theme song: Fri(end)s by V a/n: BOO! heres the new chapter. I will be posting the next chapter very soon. expect the unexpected, our female lead is not going to have a break any time soon. also if there is any errors...ignore them I have to reread one more time but wanted to keep my promise and post this. prev | index | next

She lay sprawled on the floor, her eyes fixed on the ceiling above, though she barely registered it. Her luggage in the entrance, not even opened. The moment Jungkook pulled up to the apartment she stepped out of the car and walked in without thanking him. Nibbling her inner cheek she mentally curses herself for not even saying thank you. He cut his trip short just to bring her home and….shit.

You had attempted to text him but your phone had died. She felt the anxiousness seep through her, the thought of her marching off being a bad idea. Her thoughts circling back to Jihye and how she kept this to herself. She cringed at how she would tell her everything that had been happening the past months with Yoongi. Getting up from the floor she plugs her phone in to charge, pulling off her clothes one by one as she tosses it to the ground. “I need a shower,” she mumbles.

Just as she was about to leave the living room, her phone buzzed with notifications. She picked it up, biting her lip as she scanned the messages. Taehyung had texted her, filling her in on what happened after she left with Jungkook. Most of it blurred together, but one line kept replaying in her mind: “Yoongi and Jihye left together not long after you.” The words twisted in her stomach. She turned her phone off, refusing to look at anything else.

It had been only thirty minutes after you came out of the shower and you had become a stalker. Standing beside your window as you looked out to see if he’d arrive. His parking spot, empty. Just as you convinced yourself that you were pathetic, waiting for him. You were about to walk away when he pulled into the parking lot, quickly hiding behind the thin see through curtain.

He steps out of the car, opening his trunk as he pulls out his bags. You let out a sigh of relief when you confirm that he’s alone. Your eyes not pulling away from him as he walks up to the building. You turned to look at your apartment door, waiting for him to knock or even just enter your apartment. But he didn’t.

You didn’t bother to talk to anyone, you only stepped out to buy groceries once and then decided to just stay in your apartment the rest of the break. You needed to gather your thoughts and being alone felt like just the right thing to do.

It wasn’t.

He was right next door, and the urge to confront him was nearly impossible to resist. If it were any other day, she would’ve just asked him, and he’d probably explain. But this wasn’t like every other time. Not only had he kept his past with Jihye from her, but she felt blindsided in a way that only twisted the knife deeper.

You turn on the television and just put on a random show you had been postponing on netflix as you brushed your hair. You were into the show when the doorbell rings, groaning as you walk to the door and the only reason you opened the door without checking to see if it was him was because you knew it wouldn’t be him but it still didn’t stop you from being surprised.

“You look horrible,” Junho said, raising a brow. you stared, wide-eyed, before replaying softly “Hi” Glancing around the hall, you grabbed his arm and pulled him inside. “What are you doing here?” you whispered.

“I don’t want to talk about her,” you snapped, stepping back. “If that’s why you’re here, you can go.”

“I want to apologize, the last time we were together well..” he stayed in place, you turn to him seeing how awkward he stood. “It’s fine…i’m glad you’re here..” he hums with a light nod, following you to the sit in the living room “I was actually thinking about how to reach out to you” you mumble. “Because of what happened?” if there was someone who would willingly talk about Yoongi’s wrongdoings it’d be Junho and as pathetic it made you look, you were desperate. “Did you know?” you ask suddenly, cursing yourself mentally. If he knew then that made you the only ignorant person around the two who had no idea.

Junho purses his lips as he tries to think of what to say to you. He lets out a sigh “yeah I knew that they had been together…but I didn’t find out right away” he watched your eyes fill with hurt, he continued “ and before you get angry with me for not telling you. Just remember that I met you after you and Jihye had been friends for a long time. I thought you already knew” his voice was rushed as he kept talking “and in my defense you two were so close I didn’t think you’d be that close unless you knew. And knowing Jihye…who can’t keep a secret to save her life..well”

“Oh she can keep a secret” you roll your eyes.

“She got drunk one day and confessed. Listen, she told me they never talked after that until you introduced him to her. Even then they never talked unless you were around” could you be acting overly dramatic? Maybe. But that doesn’t change the fact that she saw how head over heels you were for him..”stop over thinking about it, look Jihye was crying her eyes out when she called me. This happened a long time ago, she didn’t tell you because you shun everyone who gets even a inch of attention from Yoongi”

“No I don’t!” you yell

“Yes you do, and you know it! You’ve always been like that!” you were about to argue with him but his phone rang. “Is your phone off?” he says after reading the message from who ever texted him.

“What?”

“Jihye said she’s been texting you and calling but you won’t answer.. I had called you earlier but thought you had blocked me or something” shaking your head you walked over to the table where you had left your phone “it’s dead”

“Since when?”

“Since I got back” plugging in your phone you don’t wait long before the missed calls and messages start flooding in.

20 missed called from Jihye, 50 messages

10 missed calls from Yoongi, 5 messages

1 missed call from Junho, 2 messages

1 missed call unknown, 1 message

Muting your phone you place it down and turn to him. Junho, who was already standing up, shoves his hands into his pocket. “Look, I hope you two can deal with this as grown-ups. I only came here to make sure you weren’t dead because she was screaming at me through the phone to check on you”

“Thank you” you say softly

You open the door for him, stepping out. You felt bad for him, after Jihye sent him here to check on you even though she knew the two of you weren’t talking and he clearly felt uncomfortable with it. Now that you were thinking about it, pulling him inside without asking what he was doing here first was not a very smart thing to do, you suddenly became self conscious of the spaghetti strap shirt and shorts you were wearing.. Thinking back to him inside his eyes never ever left your face. After what he pulled the last time, you should’ve been more alerted. “Let me know if you need anything” he says, pulling you out from your thoughts.

few seconds before...

“She found out, and instead of going over to talk to her and beg for forgiveness you’re inviting us over?” Taehyung says in disbelief. “She’ll get over her drama and then we’ll talk” Yoongi sighs, already regretting inviting Taehyung. One, he doesn’t shut up and two, even after being told to drop the topic he still can’t shut up about it. Jimin senses the frustration from Yoongi but can’t help but chime in when Taehyung brings it up “but you said she hasn’t been answering nor have you seen her..aren’t you worri-” the three turn the corner and Taehyung gasps loudly, making Yoongi stop glaring at Jimin who was also looking a bit confused. “I thought they weren’t friends anymore,” Jimin mutters.

“They aren’t” he responds calmly, not bothering to make a scene. The three walked towards Yoongi’s apartment and the two who were talking in front of her apartment door which was wide open.

You hadn’t noticed them, not until you were already leaning in to hug Junho goodbye. Yoongi raises a brow as his fingers fumble with his keys, he looks down at his keys not bothering to say anything to you. You smile at Junho who whispers a small goodbye as he walks past the group. What did you expect? For him to overreact? Get mad? Jealous?

Jealous, that’s what you are.

Taehyung and Jimin walk over to you “you left early the other day, I hope Jungkook was not much trouble” Jimin smiles, clearly trying to make small talk, waiting for him to open the door. “We’re going to watch a movie, and also got food! Do you want to come over” Taehyung butts in awkwardly showing you the bag he was holding. You glance at Yoongi to see how he was reacting to the offer and as if sensing your stare he looks back at you.

“What?” he says

“Nothing” you respond

Yoongi’s eyes scanned your body, lingering on the light fabric of your outfit, which draped over your form. Shorts that accentuate your legs, a casual look, but the way it hugged your figure made him want to gauge Junho’s eyes out. "you look like you want to tell me something" you raise a brow, noticing his narrowed stare.

"Do you want me to say something? maybe invite you in? act as if you didn't lash out like a child and then left without talking to me" opening the door he scoffs "and now" he can't help but laugh sarcastically "now you're opening the door to your apartment to him? openly giving him the opportunity to do it again and this time have something worse happen" as he lectured you. you instantly regretted telling him what happened that day.

"he came to check on me after ji-"

he snickers "right, he found the perfect moment to come crawling to you like a rat. how can you be so gullible, but yet you walk away from me and don't even think of talking about what happened”

"What was there to talk about? I heard everything I needed to know" you couldn't help but laugh at how he was turning this against you "I can't even think of anything to say to you or her"

"you got...you know what it's pointless talking to you. it's like each time...all we do is run in circles"

"that's so like you, always avoiding to talk about anything" his face twisted into an arrogant scowl "avoiding? bullshit! you- fine" dropping the bags to the ground he didn't care that the items scattered.. pushing Jimin aside he grabs your arm and pulls you into the apartment shutting the door behind the two of you.

"Go on then, what do you want to talk about" his grip on your arm caused you to whimper but he didn't loosen his grip.

"Why are you angry! I'm the one who had to learn about Jihye and you after years of being her friend!" you try to get free from his grip but fail as he pressed you against the wall, his face incredibly close to you, causing you to unknowingly hold your breath.

"I have the right to be upset with you when you let someone into your apartment, and it's not just anybody it's the same guy that tried to force himself on you and you broke friendship with! I can be upset when you do something as stupid as let him into your apartment and I don't know!"he snarled

"Why do you need to know!" you yell back, thrashing as you push him but continue to struggle "are you that stupid?!" his grip loosens and he walks away from you, entering your apartment "you talk about me and how I avoid talking. you left!"

"because jihy-"

"That was nothing!" he screams, causing your body to jump at his sudden raised voice. "It was before she even met you y/n! We met that summer and had sex a couple of times and that was the end of it!"

"Then why not tell me!" you yell back, you feel as if you didn't, your voice would betray you, your heart beating so quickly that you hear your pulse in your ears. "because it wasn't your business y/n! you never cared about anyone I was with before, why should she have been an exception?!"

Your hands are clenched into fists, and the frustration boils over. Glancing at the chair beside you, you grab a stuffed toy and hurl it at him. "because you saw how much she mattered to me! you saw me befriend her and you know how I feel about those girls" catching the toy he groans, frustrated with the conversation "She asked me to not say anything for that exact reason! shit, I was gonna tell you the day you introduced her to me as your friend but she fucking cried" not caring if you looked childish you kept throwing the stuffed animals at him it wasn't until the fifth one till you successfully hit his head. "Stop throwing shit y/n!" he yells but you had already sat on the empty chair having pushed aside the rest of the toys onto the floor.

you lost, again.

He watches you as you bury your face in your hands, your muffled cries breaking through the silence. “I didn’t know if you’d even stay friends,” he says quietly. “At first, I was skeptical about her. I warned her that if she tried anything, I’d tell you… but then I saw how close you got.”

He doesn’t move toward you, and though you hate it, you wish he would. You wish he’d hug you right now.

Pathetic, you think.

“You always had a hard time making friends with girls, so I kept quiet.”

“Get out.”

“What—?”

“Get out! I don’t want to hear your excuses.” You stand, wiping your tears as you walk past him, sidestepping his attempt to reach you. “I don’t want your friendship or hers. Just leave.” You shut your bedroom door, leaning against it as you try to catch your breath. “You’re making this bigger than it is!” Yoongi shouts from the other side. “This is what you always do when something bothers me! You say I’m exaggerating, and I’m done with it! The deal, everything—it’s over. Leave!”

“No. Open the damn door.”

“Go to hell.”

"y/n!" you both stay silent and then you hear his footsteps grow distant. I hate them. dropping on the bed you hug your pillow. not even two minutes passed when you hear him come back "Yoongi i'm serious get out!" your eyes widen when you hear the door's lock click, jumping to your feet you run to the door but he was faster than you. the door swung open and he walked into the room "I get why you're mad, but you're not going to kick me out of your life over this. You're testing my patience with all this dramatic show you're putting" he said angrily as he strode to you.

"I give two shits about your patience" you say through clenched teeth, you shake your head. "I'm not gonna stand here and let you tell me that my feelings mean nothing!" you were about to race out of the room but he blocked your path, closing the distance between the two of you , before you could complain Yoongi grabbed the back of your head and pressed his lips to yours.

yanking at his hair you try to pry him off. Yoongi frowns, biting your lip causing your lips to part from the pain, his hot tongue pushed into your mouth entwining his with yours. He did not give you a break, continuing to kiss you until you felt faint. his chest heaving as he brushed your hair from your eyes "I never said your feelings didn't matter" he muttered roughly "just that it happened a long time ago, and It was nothing. you hear me?" glaring at him you try to push him but he wouldn't let you "it meant nothing, it meant nothing" you mock him "that's all you can say!"

"I have nothing else to say about the matter." His answer left you speechless. and it snapped, your sanity "then that's all I want, I don't want our friendship anymore just sex, that's all you like or am I wrong!"

"That's what you want?! "

"You treat me-" Yoongi stops you, ravaging your lips. His hot tongue tangled with yours as he deepened the kiss. fighting for air, he didn't pull away until he felt your grip on him weaken. All the build-up emotions inside you made you act without thinking. The moment the kiss ends your hand raises and strikes him against his cheek. the room falls silent as he stares to the side.

coming to your senses your eyes widen. "yoong-" "fine, if that's all you want. then i'll happily give you just that" you were too stunned to move, his lips pressed against yours this time more aggressive than the last.

He was quick to lift you off your feet, wrapping your arms around him and carrying you to the bed. He pulls down your shorts against your complaints. "Wait" you say as he tosses them aside with your underwear "stop" he says, holding your ankle "isn't this what you wanted" before you could rebuttal he spread your legs, his long finger traced between your dripping wet folds. the tip of his tongue swirled around your clit, you're lips parting to try and tell him to stop but instead you yelp as he closes his lips around it and sucking, he finally tasted your release on his tongue but he didn't stop there, nose pressed against your clit as he continued to suck. whining from the oversensitivity "y-Yoongi stop" you cry out. his thumb wiping his wet lips as he stared at you specifically stared at your tear filled eyes. you felt your heart swell up as he got up from the bed. thinking about how he would usually wipe your tears and give you kisses, instead he undid his belt pulling down his pants and briefs, his hardened length in full view. his cold eyes looking down at you "get on your knees and suck"

you stare at him and then glance at his throbbing length. "Hurry up, you're wasting time" he scowls.

swallowing you get on your knees on the comfort of the mattress, gently grabbing the hem of your shirt he pulls it over your head. taking him in your hands you can feel him watching you. you wrap your lips around the tip and begin to suck slowly. you begin to take all you could and wrap your hand around what you couldn't receive. tears brimming at the corner of your eyes, his large palm gripping your hair as you keep bobbing your head on his shaft. your drool from the side of your mouth coating his balls. you hear his low moans, he'd move his hips thrusting his cock down your throat "fuck" he mutters through gritted teeth. "swallow" he says sternly, releasing in your mouth.

letting go of your hair you pull back, coughing. scoffing he grabs your chin "you never listen to me do you" ravaging your lips he doesn't care to taste himself as he shoves his tongue in your mouth. You press your hand against his chest you could feel his heart racing just as fast as yours. but there was something different, his eyes were cold. nowhere near as loving and kind as the first night you two spent together.

there was a hint of pain, as his forehead creased and he held your arm but only to yank you down, face first into the softness of your bed. "raise your ass" he says, his patience thin as he watches you rise slowly. He wraps his arm around your waist, lifting you quickly. "You're dripping wet from sucking my cock huh" he says, his fingers entering your entrance "you stopped begging for me to stop" his hand plays with the clasp of your bra before undoing it. "Do you want me to continue" he says as his hand cups your breast pinching your taut nipple. you nod, gripping the bed sheets "say it" he pinches your nipple causing you to moan.

"please put it in already" your throat was dry.

“Is this what you want? you want me to find you only when I need my dick wet?" he growls against your ear "do you want me to come to you only when I want your pretty little mouth wrapped around my cock" pressing two fingers against your lips you open your mouth as his fingers enter. "want me to take you from behind and leave right after?" he presses his fingers down against your tongue and you begin to drool. "because if that's all you want from me....then you really are no different from them" you feel as his hard length rubs against your folds. removing his hand from your mouth he goes to your night stand, pulling out a foil.

Say something, tell him that he isn't just sexual relief for you

But no words left your lips, you were on your back in seconds. your eyes on him as he pulled his shirt over his head "then I'll give you what you want" your tongues intertwined passionately, feeling his length brushing between your legs. He entered you with a single, deep thrust. Your toes curled as he thrusted into you mercilessly. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you tightly hug him, his name being the only sound that left your lips. His thick length slowly slid into you before pulling out to the tip only for him to thrust in deeper. Moaning quietly, your back arched as he leaned over you to put his mouth on your breasts, each suck causing the heat in your belly to intensify. As if a bolt of lighting had struck you, the feeling of almost cumming is robbed as he scooped you up and placed you on his lap. you claw at his shoulders as you try and steady yourself on your knees while facing him. without giving you a chance for anything you receive him even more deeply as he thrusts upwards. You clung to his neck each time he sank into you, your hips moving on their own. You feel the knot in your stomach release, the intense pleasure causing you to bite down on his shoulder. Just when you thought you'd faint from the overstimulation his movements stop as he groans.

You lift yourself, his length slipping out of you as you fall back onto the bed. You could still feel the sensation of having him inside you, "don't even think that it's over yet" your eyes snap up, he was already sliding on another condom on his hardened length. He laid you back, initiating a kiss he grabbed your ankle and propped your leg on his shoulder, lifting his hips he thrust into you. You let out a low moan, your eyes shutting tightly. "Watch" he says "watch how I enter you" he moved urgently inside you. Wave after wave of passion you had already orgasmed twice but it did not stop him. Yoongi gritted his teeth and shuddered as if he was suppressing something. Rocking his hips as his length swelled inside, biting down on his lips he moved faster. Moaning as he releases his load.

Pulling out from you, he ignores your whines. Getting off the bed he begins to get dressed after disposing of the condom. "Yoongi" you mutter but he doesn't stop, you try to sit up but your back and hips ache causing you to whimper. The sudden noise makes him freeze but he doesn't bother turning around to look at you. Once he's fully dressed he leaves the apartment.

Yoongi didn’t contact her after that day, nor did they didn’t coincidentally bump into one another even if they lived in the same building. The anxiety and regret she felt made her cry herself to sleep, cursing herself for not telling him that he wasn’t just a sexual relief for her.

Looking at the mirror one last time she pushes aside her bangs, thinking about getting them trimmed later. Gulping she opens the door, peeking out slightly to see if he was there, thankfully there was no one in the hall. Therefore another day of not seeing him began. “Make sure to read the next chapter and check the assignments posted online” the professor spoke but no one listened. Every student beelinning to exit.

Groaning at the thought of the next class, her stomach twisted at the thought of having to see Jihye. I shouldn’t be trying to avoid her, she’s the one that hid it from me. She thought as she took the long way to class. For a moment as she stood in front of the building, she considered simply skipping. All four years she had never skipped class, nibbling on her inner cheek she’d wave at people who say hello from either this class or another.

Fuck it, turning on her heel she attempts to escape hell but instantly bumps into someone. Quickly apologizing, she looked up, it was Junho. “Are you alright? You’ve just been standing there” awkwardly smiling as she takes a few steps back which he respected by staying in place. “I was just..”

“Thinking of skipping to avoid Jihye?” feeling embarrassed for her petty actions she blushes. Sighing he looks at his watch “do you wanna go eat or something…I’ll ask a friend for the class notes”

“Oh” her voice filled with a bit of hesitation. One, she was thinking of skipping and two, with Junho. That was already two reasons for Yoongi to kill her. “Here at the cafeteria” he adds “Jihye isn’t in your next class, that way you can make it in time” she stares at him for a few seconds before giving in and nodding.

At first, she thought it would be awkward, but that feeling quickly faded once they sat down and started catching up.Laughing at his jokes like the old times, she couldn’t help but think that skipping class was worth reconciling with him.

“y/n, are not planning to make up with her?” you stop slurping on your drink, looking up at him. “I don’t know,” you mutter. “As stupid as I think of what i’m about to say” he licks his lips “you and me made up..after what happened”

Raising a brow you purse your lips “yeah but… it won’t be the same you know.. I…Right now I just needed to get out of that situation” you stutter

“Right, yeah…” he exhales “I’m just saying that compared to me what she did wasn’t as bad” smiling you gather your book bag and books “thanks for this, next time i’ll get you a drin-” grabbing your hand he says your name which you freeze up and stare at his hand. He pulls back and curses under his breath “I’m sorry, I just think that you need to hear her out”

"“Thanks, I’ll think about it.” She hurried out of the cafeteria, pulling her phone from her bag, which she had silenced earlier for class. Biting her lip, she looked down at the message:"

Yoongi:

Where are you?

Not wanting him to cause a scene looking for her she sends him a quick, blunt message. “Woke up late.” Stepping outside, she quickened her pace down the street, feeling her phone buzz again as his name flashed on the screen. “Damn it,” she muttered, pressing the side button to silence it and shoving her phone into her pocket.

Just when she thought the rest of the day might pass peacefully, she spotted him waiting by the building. She ducked out of sight before he noticed her, slipping in through a side entrance. Her phone vibrated again—Yoongi’s name glowing across the screen—but she ignored it as before. By the end of class, though, her luck ran out; with only one exit left, she walked straight into him. There he was standing by the doors, glaring at her.

“Where were you?” he demanded, irritation clear in his voice.

"I told you, I was late," she replied, brushing past him.

"Don’t give me that—I got here after you and saw your car," he shot back.

She paused, turning to him. "And how exactly do you know if I skipped?"

Yoongi closed his eyes, letting out a frustrated sigh. "That’s not the point. Did you seriously skip class just because she was in there too?" His tone bordered on exasperation.

She scoffed, crossing her arms. "Oh, did she tell you? Wow, you two must be real close. How ignorant was I to have never noticed before "

“Don’t skip class. And get home early” he says walking past her, too tired to argue with her. She was used to him being all high and mighty but at this moment, the urge to become violent and slap him once more flared inside her.

Jihye got the message. In any class they shared, she avoided Y/N’s area, keeping her distance. Junho noticed, giving both of them a wary look before deciding to sit far enough from either to avoid taking sides. But Jihye couldn’t stay away forever, by the end of class the two girls were running across campus. One being chased, the other doing the chasing.

“Stop being like this! Please let’s talk” Jihye shouted, sprinting behind her. Passing students threw them confused looks, but Y/N kept moving. When they reached the parking lot, she tried to unlock her car quickly, but Jihye blocked her path. Out of breath, they stared each other down, and Y/N couldn’t help but think that, under different circumstances, they’d both be laughing right now. But this was anything but funny. “Fine. You’ve got a minute,” she managed, standing upright. “After that, we’re done talking.” Jihye’s face fell at her demand, but she pressed on. “Let's go talk somewhere else” she says which y/n then looks at her wrist acting as if there was a watch “you have 30 seconds left” Jihye’s patience snapped. “Why are you acting like this? Fine, I didn’t tell you what happened back then, but how could I? We probably wouldn’t even be friends now if I had!”

“Maybe we shouldn’t be friends” she shots back

Jihye takes a step closer “you don’t mean that”

“What If I do?” you scoffed “even now you go snitching to Yoongi about me ditching class.

“ I was just worried about yo–”

“Don’t be! Clearly, you weren’t worried about how I’d feel finding out, or you’d have told me the truth! Even if it risked our friendship.”

“to think that I came ranting to you about him, about how I felt and shit you already had him!” she screams

“That’s not fair! I didn’t know you back then!!”

“You sound just like him. Your minute’s up. Move.”

Jihye’s jaw clenched as she stepped aside, watching her get into the car and drive away. She blinked hard, but her eyes still burned as tears finally slipped down her cheeks.

You slam your apartment door shut, tossing everything to the floor in frustration. The encounter with Jihye was still fresh, making your blood boil. Guess I'll need to fill up the gas tank tomorrow, you think, flicking on the lights. Maybe driving around to clear my head wasn’t such a smart move after all.

A voice cuts through the silence, making you jump. “So, is this how you’re planning to act from now on?” Yoongi’s voice is calm but pointed as he sits up, pushing the blanket off himself.

Clutching your chest, you try to calm your racing heart. “What are you doing here?!”

He raises an eyebrow, looking at you as though waiting for an explanation. “What am I doing here? I told you to get home early. I come back, and you’re nowhere to be found.”

“I can come home whenever I want,” you say defiantly. His eyes narrow, and he takes a step toward you, gripping your chin before pressing his lips against yours. Caught off guard, you instinctively try to pull away, but he tightens his hold, lifting you onto the counter as his kiss grows more intense.

You let your arms fall around him in reluctant surrender, responding to his intense advance. "Where did you go?" he murmurs, his hand tangling in your hair as he yanks your head back, drawing a surprised whimper from your lips.

"I just drove around," you manage, feeling the heat of his gaze, but his expression shifts as he presses on.

"And when you ditched class?" His brow arches, his patience clearly running thin as you hesitate. "Y/N, don’t make me ask again—where were you?"

“With Junho,” you finally admit, watching as his expression darkens. He releases your hair and steps back with an exasperated chuckle. “You’ve got to be kidding me. That guy again?!”

Jumping down from the counter, you glare back, incredulous. “What’s so wrong with me talking to him? Yes, he made a mistake, but I’m not giving him a free pass. It’s different now—I’m more aware—”

“Oh, that’s rich," he cuts you off, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "He gets a ‘mistake pass’ and you move on, but Jihye and I keep something from you, and we’re the worst people in the world?”

That was the last straw.

“Don’t you dare compare what you and Jihye did to what happened with him!” you shout, running a frustrated hand through your hair. “I’ve told you before, it meant nothing, it was just a fling, and we were both just—god, what do you even want me to say?!” I shake my head in disbelief. How could he expect me to move on like it meant nothing? If I’m angry with him, it’s because he didn’t tell me. With Jihye, though, it’s different. What I hate most is the way she looked at me every time I talked about him, and when I finally admitted how much I liked him...she just sat there and encouraged me. She’s nothing but a hypocrite.

“Where did the two of you go?”

“What?”

“That guy and you”

“That guy has a name–” you stop talking as he shuts his eyes in frustration, inhaling a deep breath. “To eat, that’s it”

Turning on his heel he walks towards the door, and you just couldn’t believe he thinks he can just end the conversation whenever he wants.

“Is that all you were here for?”

Maybe it was the teasing or me leading him on that brought us to this. And as much as I wanted to just enjoy the moment. His words from the last time kept repeating in my head, but being bent over the counter as his fingers were knuckle deep inside me, how could I even have a single sane thought. His eager mouth found mine as our lips slid against each other. “You’re just so eager to have my dick huh” he mutters.

Yoongi parts your legs, his arm resting on your ass as he tugs down his shorts and boxers revealing his erection. He pumps his length a few times before slipping the condom on. Then he pushes the head of his cock into you, making you moan his name.

He exhales in pleasure, feeling content. Pushing his length into your hot, wet core. You grip the counter as he pulls his length back out and slams it all in one go. Reaching down to your face he turns you to face him “just forget about it, about what happened. Can’t you?” you couldn’t manage to reply as he starts moving at an erratic pace. His pelvic area slams into your ass with each thrust.

Your legs begin to feel like jelly and he feels your knees buck. Slipping out of you he lifts you up, wrapping an arm around your waist. “Don’t tell me you’re tired?” His voice was hoarse, he quickly took you to the couch. Hovering over you he pushes himself inside with a force that takes both of your breaths away.

“Fuck” he groans

You squirm underneath him “Y-oongi” he covers your lips with his, not letting you say anything. The room filled with muffled moans and skin slapping as he thrusted into you. Eyes rolling to the back of your head as you reached your peak, it wasn’t long before you orgasmed. Your hands snakes around his nape, closing the distance between the two of you as you devour his lips. You whimper as the familiar knot formed in your stomach making your walls clench around him “yoongi” you moan his name which he hums in response “I know babe, I know” his hips continue to harshly snap into yours, the indescribable pleasure that felt like shocks along your spine making you arch your back as you cummed on his shaft.

A sob rips through your throat, nails painfullying digging into his skin as he fucks your through your high, his chuckle rings through your ear as he lowers his face into the crook of your neck. “Stop talking to that bastard, aren’t I enough” he growls as he quickly turns you over, lifting your ass quickly as he positions himself. He doesn’t enter you but rather rub his length against you.

“No–” a sharp sting spreads on your asscheek as you yelp in suprise, realizing he spanked you. And as much as you’d want to yell at him to never hit you again, you felt yourself getting wetter at the idea of him doing it again. Your thighs attempting to clench together at the feeling “you think you deserve to have this pretty pussy fucked if you act like a fucking brat?” he growls. He shoves his dick back inside without warning but doesn’t move at all. “Where did he take you out to eat” he asks, you were still trying to gather yourself from what had just happened when you hear him click his tongue loudly and immediately spanks you yet again.

As if feeling like you had enough he begins to move, your ass bouncing back against his hips with each thrust. He leans forwards, pressing his chest against your back “does he know how much of a horny slut you are” you moan as he hits your sweet spot, gripping the pillow underneath you. “My slut, no one else’s” the low volume of his voice and the rough pounding of his hips along with the degrading words leaving his lips made me want to right there and then tell him how much I needed him all the time.

“What would he do if he knew. how I fuck you senseless, how this pretty little mouth of yours sucks my dick” you cry as your second orgasm washes over you, your body violently jerking under him from the overstimulation.

“That’s my girl” he growls as he fucks you through your orgasm, he thrusts his hips into you faster. He moans softly, his head hung back as in bliss. You feel your stomach twisting, a sob leaving your mouth. A soft moan resounds in Yoongi's throat when his own orgasm hits him, thrusts getting sloppy. He kisses you once more, groaning loudly into your mouth. You whimper at the sensation of him pulling out, turning onto your back slowly. He rubs your thighs with his palm softly. “Fucking brat” he says, his eyes staring into yours.

You felt your eyes shutting on you, but you quickly sat up when he attempted to stand. “Don’t go” you say without thinking.

Bitch what the fuck, you scream inside.

He licks his lips, bringing his hand to your check as he brushes strands of your hair behind your ear “ didn’t you say that you just wanted the sex” his tone was set to hurt you but as you stared into his eyes you knew he didn’t mean the words he just said, and he was just hurt for what he interpreted by your silence last time.

“Then why do you care who I talk to, or how late I get home” you scowl. He tilts his head, a brow raised “why don’t you just say it, admit you regret reacting the way you did. And things can go back to how they were”

One thing I always hated about him was how easily he could read me. But this time, you weren’t going to give him the satisfaction of being right. Placing your hands on his shoulders, you gave him a quick peck. “I don’t regret anything,” you said, standing up from the sofa and leaving him there as you walked away to take a shower.

By the time you got out, he was already gone.

This pattern went on for two weeks. Before class, we’d have a quick encounter, and he’d show up on weekends, catching me off guard in the middle of the day. Each time felt more intense, each encounter better than the last. We’d try new things, pushing past anything I’d read in books, which felt lacking in comparison. But each time it ended, there was a growing ache as we separated. If we were at my place, I’d be the one to walk away first, and he’d leave soon after. At his place, he never asked me to leave, letting it be my choice to go.

I was straddling him, my arms wrapped around him as we made out. It sometimes began like this, usually initiated by me. His hands squeezed my asscheeks, slightly sneaking their way into my shirt as I grinded my hips against him. The past weeks we’ve learned things about each other, things we should’ve never learned from one another. Like how he loves to spank my ass, his favorite position being from behind. How I had the hots for his degrading speech.

Just as things were about to progress his phone rang. Annoyed, he looks to the side, grabbing his phone. Kissing his neck I don’t hesitate to leave him hickeys as he doesn’t care if I do. “Who is it” I ask which he groans “my parents”

Lowering his hand I take his phone “you can call them back later” if there was something he loved about you lately it was the confidence you managed to build especially around him. Maybe that’s what he loved, the fact that it was just around him. That only he could see how beautiful you looked when you were confident.

His lips latched onto yours possessively, it doesn’t matter if she forgives me or not. As long as I say the deal isn’t over, she’s mine. And that’s never going to happen. You felt yourself in a daze as he caressed your body with his hands. His hands freezing at the sudden ring from your phone. Both groaning you stand from his lap “is someone dying?” he groans.

Picking up the phone your mom sounded rather energetic, asking you all sorts of questions. “Yes he’s right here too” you turn to look at yoongi who had already been staring at you. “Uh…I don’t know where his phone is…”

“I’m heading out, for you two to talk” he says, walking towards the exit

“She’s saying if we can go over this weekend..well she's asking me, your dad says you have to go” sighing in frustration Yoongi glares at me “I’m not going” not letting you rebuttal he walks out of the apartment.

Yoongi wasn’t lying when he said that he would not be going back home this weekend. Here I was packed and standing in front of his door. I know the two of us aren’t in talking terms and as unhealthy as it is that we only ever talk if it’s before the sex or after even if it's brief you had not made up with him or her.

Just as I step out of the building, I stop in my tracks, spotting Yoongi by my car. He’s wiping his hands on a towel, having just closed the hood.

“Hi,” I say.

“Your car’s good for the trip. Just needs some gas, but that’s all,” he says, turning and handing me my keys, which I blindly accept, realizing with embarrassment that I hadn’t even noticed I’d left them behind. I thank him, and he takes my bags. “Don’t stop anywhere—just head straight home,” he says, shutting the trunk.

Rolling my eyes as I settle into the driver’s seat, I reply, “Don’t worry about it.”

“Alright,” he says, leaning in to lift my chin, giving me a small kiss. “Call me when you get there.”

I nod, close the window, and drive off.

The moment I arrive, my mom envelops me in a tight hug. “My baby! Why don’t you visit more often?”

I sink into her arms, realizing how much I’ve needed this. Maybe the stress of the last few weeks has taken more of a toll on me than I thought. “I’ve just been really busy,” I say with a smile.

“y/n!” you felt an impact on your lower stomach as Hajun ran straight into you, tightly hugging you “did he come?”

“Who? Yoongi?” the younger boy nods his head “no he didn’t come” you could see the disappointment in his eyes for a split moment before he playfully grins.

“So it’s just us?” , laughing you pat his head “ yes it’s just us” taking out your phone you take a quick photo of hajun hugging your waist and send it to yoongi as your message of arrival. Quickly tugging your phone into your pocket you walk into the kitchen with hajun stepped on your feet as you walk carefully.

“How’s he doing?”

“Who?”

“Yoongi of course, I was hoping to see him” nibbling on your inner cheek you shrug your shoulders “he’s doing fine, i don’t know what he didn’t want to come but he’s good”

Nodding she places two plates down on the table “hajun has been living with us for a while now” your brow lifts as you look over to the boy who was chowing down completely ignoring the two of you

“Why?” you move aside with your mom, still cautious of him overhearing.

“His parents are having a divorce. It’s been messy, not a place for a boy his age to be.”I look back at Hajun, feeling a pang of sympathy. “How’s he handling it?”

“That’s the thing, he’s taking it like a champ. Afterall–” she glances towards Hajun softly speaks in a empathetic tone “he’s the one who told his dad”

You were exhausted after the long drive, resting in your room you couldn’t help but look at the window. A small part of you wanted to hear Yoongi knock on your window, asking for you to let him in. knocking at the door pulled your gaze from the window “sweetie, originally Yoongi and you were supposed to have dinner at his house..do you mind going alone?”

“No, I would love to go.” she does a flying kiss after wishing you goodnight.

@baechugff @thetaehyungstan @yoongibaybee @gimeow @pjmsneverland @eissenheimer @taetaechim7 @acquiescence804 @seoullove96 @waitaminswife @keshiadeija @gaby-93 @amarawayne @ykkjm @ot72025 @joonie1213 @vonvi-blog

#min yoongi x reader #yoongi fanfic #yoongi scenerio #yoongi smut #bts smut #namjoonscoffeeshop #bts angst #bts college au #bts fluff

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mononijikayu · 6 months ago

Text

for us — gojo satoru.

From childhood, everyone knew that he was bringing the world on a rollercoaster of emotions. From all his action films to his most popular TV show, Jujutsu Kaisen—he had found himself adored, applauded. Satoru can admit to himself that he enjoyed what he did. Satoru knows he’s very good at what he does. He had all the accolades that the world needed to prove it. But now, he has been burned out.

GENRE: cursed womb arc, 2018;

WARNING/S: alternate universe - canon convergence, friends, friends to lovers, domesticity, fluff, romance, young love, humor, first love, first love, flirting, slice of life;

LISTEN: for us by v of bts

NOTE: so, this was a copium of mine for a while. i keep seeing people's art for jjk actor au and i just, this has got to be something that has to happen. give me top star actor gojo satoru starring in a shojo slice of live adult romance next please </3

masterlist

kayu's playlist — side 700;

HE NEVER REALLY EXPECTED IT. In the whirlwind of bright lights and red carpets, actor Gojo Satoru found himself embarking on an unexpected journey, one unlike any he had experienced before. As he navigated the frenetic pace of the entertainment industry, he couldn't shake the feeling that this was uncharted territory, a path diverging from the familiar roads he had traveled in the past.

For years, Satoru had honed his craft, gracing screens both big and small with his undeniable talent. He had become accustomed to the hustle and bustle of the industry, the endless cycle of auditions, rehearsals, and premieres. But amidst the glitz and glamor, there was a newfound sense of uncertainty, a whisper of possibility lingering in the air.

As he stood beneath the glare of flashing cameras and the roar of adoring fans, Satoru couldn't help but feel a twinge of excitement mingled with apprehension. This journey, unlike any other, was filled with unforeseen twists and turns, leading him down paths he had never dared to tread.

But amidst the uncertainty, there was also a sense of liberation, a freedom to explore new horizons and embrace the unknown. With each step forward, Satoru felt the weight of expectation lifted from his shoulders, replaced by a sense of exhilaration at the endless possibilities that lay ahead.

As he gazed out at the sea of faces before him, Satoru knew that this journey was just beginning. And though he couldn't predict where the road would lead, one thing was certain: he was ready to embrace the adventure with open arms, eager to discover what lay beyond the bright lights and red carpets of his past.

And now on a break from filming Jujutsu Kaisen, Gojo Satoru wanted a change of pace. He craved a new challenge, something that would reignite his passion for acting. He wanted to see what emotions he could evoke in others and what surprises he could find within himself.

Sitting in his study, scripts piled high around him, he sighed in frustration. One after another, he skimmed through them, barely finishing some. Nothing was sparking anything within him.

Then, he saw it—a script bound in beautiful purple. Intrigued, he picked it up and opened it. His cerulean eyes went wide as he began reading. The characters leapt off the page, their emotions vivid and real. The dialogue was sharp, the plot both heartwarming and complex. For the first time in weeks, he felt a thrill of excitement.

Without hesitation, he grabbed his phone and dialed his manager. "Hey, Sho, can you get me information about this rom-com role?" he asked, his voice brimming with anticipation.

There was a pause on the other end before Shoko replied, "Which one are you talking about, Satoru?"

"The one with the purple cover. It's called 'Love in Full Bloom.' I want to know everything about it—who's directing, the production company, and especially who's playing the female lead." he explained, flipping through the pages eagerly.

Shoko chuckled. "I'll get right on it. You sound pretty excited about this one, Satoru. Never seen it before.”

"I am." Satoru admitted, a smile tugging at his lips. "There's something special about this script. I can feel it."

As he waited for more information, Satoru continued reading, already envisioning himself in the role. The male lead, a charming yet flawed character, was unlike any he had played before.

And the female lead—her character was layered and complex, someone he could see himself having great on-screen chemistry with. His mind raced with possibilities, the scenes playing out vividly in his imagination.

When his phone rang again, he answered it immediately. "What did you find out?"

"Well, the director is a rising star in the industry, known for their fresh take on romance films. The production company is solid, and they're putting a lot of resources into this project. As for the female lead, it’s still up in the air. They’re auditioning some big names, but nothing's finalized yet," Shoko informed him.

"Great!" Satoru said, his excitement building. "Let's set up a meeting. I want to discuss this role in detail and see if I can get an audition."

"Will do. I'll arrange it and get back to you with the details," his manager confirmed.

As he hung up, Satoru felt a renewed sense of purpose. This was the spark he had been looking for, the change of pace he needed. With 'Love in Full Bloom,' he could explore new facets of his craft and bring a fresh perspective to his acting. The thought of delving into this character and the story filled him with a sense of exhilaration he hadn't felt in a long time.

The meeting was scheduled for the following week, and Satoru spent the days leading up to it immersing himself in the script. By the time the day arrived, he was more than prepared. He walked into the room with confidence, his cerulean eyes alight with determination.

As the director and producers listened to his thoughts on the character and the story, they nodded in agreement, clearly impressed by his passion and insight. When the meeting concluded, Satoru felt a surge of hope.

Weeks later, he received the call he had been waiting for. "Congratulations, Satoru. The role is yours, ’toru." Shoko announced.

A wide grin spread across his face as he absorbed the news. "Thank you, Sho. I’m excited for this one.”

“Oh, by the way, they announced who the female lead is.”

“Hm? Who is it?”

It was you. The world’s darling. You have always been on the screen since your childhood too. Pretty quickly, the world fell for how sweet you were, and how beautiful you were. You started at the same time as Satoru, he was pretty sure. But somehow, your worlds didn’t cross until now. You were after all focused on your own body of work—where of course, you were always the lead.

Little did he know that this role would not only reignite his love for acting but also lead him to someone who would change his life forever. As he prepared for the first day of filming, he couldn't shake the feeling that 'Love in Full Bloom' was just the beginning of an extraordinary journey.

He had signed on to film a romantic comedy, a genre he had yet to explore fully in his whole career and met you, his co-star. During the first table read, it was somehow inevitable that Gojo Satoru's eyes met yours. And he felt an instant connection, you waved at him enthusiastically. He felt his face turn bright red, he cleared his throat and greeted you and went back to his script.

It was too much somehow, the way you looked at him. Your radiant smile and the sparkle in your eyes were captivating. As you read your lines, your natural charisma and wit shone through, making him feel as though the two of you had known each other for years. Satoru could feel the intensity of it.

"Wow, you’re amazing there." Satoru said, unable to hide his admiration as he looked at you. “I haven’t seen someone do that before, cry on cue? Not even Yuuji could do it!”

You grinned at him, a twinkle of mischief in your eyes. "Likewise, Mr. Leading Man. You’re so cool with how you can just go line for line. It’s why you’re so perfect in Jujutsu Kaisen!”

He could feel himself being bashful, rubbing the nape of his neck. “Ah, you think so?”

“No, I know so, Gojo. You’re so cool like that.”

“Thank you so much. You’re just as cool to me.”

“Oh, I doubt that!” You giggle at his words. He thinks your giggles are cute. “You’re always going to be cooler.”

“Hey, uh….I’m looking forward to working with you.”

Your eyes were tender when they gazed at him. You smiled. “I’m looking forward to working with you too, Gojo.”

“You can call me Satoru.”

“Oh well, call me by my name too.”

When you looked at him and told him your name, he just felt lost. You were so beautiful at that moment. It’s like time slowed, it's like god had given him some time to marvel at the wonder of you. He could feel how his heart was thumping. He doesn’t think he’s ever felt this before. You grinned at him, raising a thumb up at him.

“Let’s make some movie magic, okay?"

He chuckled, feeling a warmth spread through him. "Absolutely."

As filming began, the on-screen chemistry translated seamlessly into your off-screen interactions. This was the most relaxed he’d ever been on a set. He’d love Jujutsu Kaisen’s set because he’d become good friends with everyone — that had made everything easier. But it just felt different with you together.

Between takes, the two of you would exchange jokes, share stories, and find yourselves lost in conversations that lasted long after the director called cut. Sometimes you eat on your trailers together, you even go out to drink some times and explore the sets together, talking about the mundane.

But lately he would catch you watching him from afar on set. Sometimes, you would often catch him stealing glances at you, his cerulean eyes filled with genuine affection.

One day, during a particularly challenging scene, Gojo Satoru found himself struggling to stay in character. He was not feeling it today, and he doesn’t know why.

He’s trying so hard, but he keeps making mistakes. The lines felt forced, and he couldn't seem to connect with the emotions. You noticed his frustration and pulled him aside.

"Hey, what's going on?" you asked, your tone gentle but concerned.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I don't know. I just can't seem to get into it today."

You smiled, placing a comforting hand on his arm. "Let's take a break and come back to it. Sometimes all we need is a moment to reset."

Your understanding and support meant the world to him. He’d worked with people who were horrible at being understanding about off days. But you were different. You were kind and perceptive, noticing his struggle before he even said a word.

"Hey, let's take five," you suggested softly, taking his hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze.

Satoru nodded, grateful for your intervention. You walked over to the director together, and you spoke up before he could. "We need a break. Satoru's having a tough time today, and I think a little rest will help us get back on track."

The director looked from you to Satoru and then sighed, nodding. "Alright, everyone, take a ten-minute break."

As the crew dispersed, you led Satoru outside to a quiet spot. The cool breeze was refreshing, and the tension in his shoulders began to ease. He looked at you with a mixture of gratitude and admiration.

"Thank you," he said, his voice sincere. "I’ve worked with people who wouldn’t have given a damn about how I was feeling. But you…you’re different."

You smiled, a gentle warmth in your eyes. "We’re a team, Satoru. If one of us is off, it affects the whole production. Besides, I care about you. I want to see you at your best, and sometimes that means taking a step back."

He felt a swell of emotion in his chest, something he hadn’t felt in a long time. "You’re amazing, you know that?"

You laughed softly, a sound that felt like a balm to his frazzled nerves. "I will try. Now, let's take a deep breath and reset. We’ll get through this scene together."

Satoru took a deep breath, feeling the fresh air fill his lungs and clear his mind. Standing there with you, he felt a renewed sense of purpose. You were right. This was a team effort, and he wasn’t alone in it.

When the break ended and you both returned to the set, there was a noticeable shift in the atmosphere. Satoru felt more relaxed, more connected to the scene, and it showed in his performance. The lines flowed naturally, and the chemistry between you two was palpable.

The director called cut, a satisfied smile on his face. "That was perfect! Great job, both of you."

Satoru turned to you, his eyes shining with gratitude and something deeper. "You really are my good luck charm." he said, his voice filled with affection.

You shrugged playfully. "Just doing my part. Now, let’s wrap this up and go celebrate finishing the scene!"

As the day came to a close and the crew packed up, Satoru felt a contentment he hadn’t felt in a long time. That night, as you both walked out of the studio together, he realized just how much he had come to care for you.

The lines between on-screen romance and real-life feelings had blurred, and he found himself hoping that this connection you shared would continue to grow, both on and off the screen.

As the weeks passed, he realized he was falling for you. The way you made him laugh, the way you understood him, and the way you brought out the best in him—it was all becoming impossible to ignore.

One evening, after a long day of filming, you both found yourselves alone on the set. The crew had packed up, and the stars were twinkling above, casting a magical glow over the scene. Gojo Satoru decided it was time to tell you how he felt.

"Hey," he called softly, walking over to where you stood, gazing up at the night sky.

You turned to him, a curious smile on your lips. "Hey yourself. What's up?"

He took a deep breath, his heart pounding in his chest. "I've been wanting to tell you something. Working with you has been incredible. More than that, it's made me realize how much I care about you."

You blinked in surprise, your cheeks flushing slightly. "Satoru…"

He stepped closer, his gaze unwavering. "I know we have a job to do, but I can't pretend that I don't feel this way. I think…no, I know that I'm falling for you."

Your eyes softened, and you reached out to take his hand. "I feel the same way," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "But what do we do about it?"

"We take it one day at a time," he replied, his thumb brushing gently over your knuckles. "We keep it between us for now, and we see where it goes. What matters is that we're honest with each other."

You nodded, a smile breaking across your face. "I'd like that."

From that moment on, your relationship blossomed in secret. The stolen glances, the shared whispers, and the quiet moments away from prying eyes made your connection even stronger. Every day on set became a delicate dance of professional focus and personal longing. The chemistry that had sparked between you on screen spilled into real life, creating a bond that felt unbreakable.

During lunch breaks, you'd steal away to a secluded spot on the studio lot, sharing sandwiches and laughter. In the evenings, you’d slip into each other’s trailers, finding solace in each other’s company. The more time you spent together, the more you realized how deeply you had fallen for each other.

Despite the mounting affection, you both decided to keep your relationship a secret. The media's scrutiny and the inevitable gossip seemed like obstacles you could do without. So, you reveled in your private moments, finding solace in the fact that your love was your own, untainted by public opinion.

"Hey, do you think anyone suspects?" Satoru asked one evening, his hand entwined with yours as you lay on the couch in his trailer.

You chuckled softly, resting your head on his shoulder. "Maybe. But they won’t say anything. We’ve been careful."

He kissed the top of your head, a tender gesture that made your heart flutter. "I don’t want this to end."

"Neither do I," you admitted, looking up at him. "But we both know what happens once filming wraps up."

Satoru's expression softened, his gaze meeting yours with a mixture of longing and resignation. "I know," he murmured, his voice tinged with sadness. "But that doesn't mean we can't cherish the time we have left."

You nodded in agreement, the weight of impending separation settling heavily in the pit of your stomach. "I just wish things could be different," you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper.

Satoru tightened his grip on your hand, his touch a silent reassurance in the face of uncertainty. "Me too," he whispered, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. "But for now, let's make the most of every moment we have together."

The trailer, once a sanctuary of laughter and shared secrets, now seemed tinged with a melancholy air, the walls echoing with the soft whispers of unspoken fears and unshed tears. Outside, the world carried on its bustling pace, oblivious to the quiet turmoil that gripped your hearts.

Wrapped in each other's arms, you and Satoru sought solace in the familiar warmth of your embrace, clinging to the fleeting moments of closeness as if they were the only lifeline in a sea of uncertainty. The soft glow of lamplight cast gentle shadows across the room, illuminating the contours of your faces as you gazed into each other's eyes, silently communicating the depth of your shared longing.

The silence between you was palpable, heavy with the weight of unspoken words and unfulfilled dreams. Every breath felt like a sigh, every touch a bittersweet reminder of the inevitable parting that loomed on the horizon. And yet, in the midst of the impending farewell, there was a quiet strength that bound you together, an unspoken promise to hold onto each other for as long as you could.

In those precious moments, time seemed to stand still, frozen in the embrace of your love. The world outside faded into obscurity, its chaotic rhythms muted by the gentle cadence of your heartbeat as it echoed in sync with Satoru's own. And for a fleeting instant, you dared to believe that perhaps, just perhaps, love could conquer all, even the relentless march of time itself.

Satoru's hand tightened around yours, a silent reassurance that spoke volumes of his affection and devotion. His words echoed the sentiments swirling in your mind, a shared desire to prolong the fleeting moments of happiness you found in each other's arms.

Your heart ached at the thought of bidding farewell to the warmth of his embrace, the familiarity of his touch. Yet, even as the specter of separation loomed on the horizon, you found solace in the depth of your connection, a bond that transcended the confines of time and circumstance.

As you gazed into his eyes, you found yourself echoing his sentiment, a whisper of vulnerability in your voice betraying the depth of your emotions. In that moment, amidst the quiet intimacy of your shared space, you were acutely aware of the ephemeral nature of your love, a fleeting flame that burned bright against the backdrop of uncertainty.

As the final scenes were shot and the film neared completion, the reality of your situation began to set in. You were due to return to California, while Satoru would stay behind, continuing his work in Japan. He had a commitment to Jujutsu Kaisen, a series that had skyrocketed in popularity and demanded his attention. You didn’t want to cause him issues. And you knew he was thinking it too. But he just doesn’t want to say it.

You had other projects lined up, your career flourishing in the vibrant and competitive world of Hollywood. The thought of being apart filled you with a sense of dread, but neither of you wanted to bring it up, fearing it would shatter the fragile happiness you had built.

During the last days on set, there was a palpable tension between you two. Your conversations were still filled with laughter and teasing, but beneath the surface, there was an undercurrent of sadness and uncertainty. Satoru's cerulean eyes often held a distant look, as if he was already missing you before you had even left.

One evening, as the crew was packing up for the day, you found yourselves alone in the dressing room. Satoru was seated on the couch, staring at the script in his hands, though you could tell his mind was elsewhere. You walked over and sat beside him, placing a hand on his knee.

"Satoru," you began softly, "We need to talk about what's next."

He looked up at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of emotions. "I know," he replied, his voice barely above a whisper. "I've been trying to avoid it, but we can't ignore it any longer."

"I don't know if I can do long distance," you confessed one night, your voice filled with sadness. "I care about you so much, but our lives are so different."

He cupped your face in his hands, his eyes searching yours. "We can make it work. We have to try."

You shook your head, tears brimming in your eyes. "I don't want to hold you back, Satoru. You have your career here, and I have mine in California. Maybe…maybe it's best if we end things now, before it gets even harder."

His heart ached at your words, but he understood. "If that's what you want, darling." he said softly, his voice breaking.

"It's not what I want." you whispered, tears streaming down your face. "But it's what we need."

With one last kiss, you said your goodbyes. Satoru watched as you walked away, his heart heavy with the loss. He knew he would never forget you, the one who had shown him what true connection felt like. And as he returned to his life, he carried the hope that, one day, fate would bring you back together.

He turned to you, his cerulean eyes filled with a mixture of hurt and understanding. "I get it." he replied, his voice tinged with sadness. "But it doesn't make this any easier."

You reached out, taking his hand in yours. "I care about you so much. This has been incredible, but we both know how tough it will be."

Gojo nodded, squeezing your hand gently. "I don't want to lose you." he admitted, "But I also don't want to make this harder on you."

He let out a deep sigh, running a hand through his hair. "You're right. It would be too hard, with our schedules and the time difference. But that doesn't make this any easier."

"I know," you said, tears welling up in your eyes. "But we have to be practical. We can't hold each other back."

He reached out and took your hand, his grip firm and reassuring. "I'll never forget what we had. These past few months have been some of the best of my life."

You leaned in and kissed him gently, savoring the moment. "Me too, Satoru. I'll always cherish our time together."

As days were settling down to your departure, each moment seemed to carry the weight of inevitability, mingling joy and sorrow in equal measure. The wrap party, intended to be a celebration of the film's completion, became a poignant reminder of the impending separation.

Laughter echoed through the room, mingling with the clinking of glasses and the lively beat of music, yet beneath the surface, there lingered an undeniable sense of melancholy.

Amidst the swirl of activity, you found solace in the presence of Satoru, seeking refuge in the comfort of his familiar company. Together, you navigated the crowded room, your gazes often meeting in silent understanding.

In those stolen moments between conversations and laughter, there was a depth of emotion that transcended words, a silent acknowledgment of the bond that had grown between you.

As the night wore on, you found yourselves drawn to each other, seeking solace in the warmth of shared affection. Amidst the flickering lights and the gentle sway of bodies on the dance floor, you found a fleeting respite from the weight of impending farewell. In those stolen moments, amidst the backdrop of celebration and camaraderie, you clung to each other, unwilling to let go of the fleeting moments of happiness that remained.

That night, you found yourselves back in his trailer, the air heavy with unspoken words. As you lay in his arms, you felt a sense of finality, knowing that this would be your last night together.

"I wish things were different," he murmured, his breath warm against your ear.

"Me too," you whispered, your voice trembling. "But we'll always have these memories."

He held you tighter, as if trying to imprint the feel of you into his memory. "Promise me you'll take care of yourself."

"I promise," you replied, tears slipping down your cheeks. "You too, Satoru. Take care of yourself."

At the terminal, he pulled you into a tight embrace, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, "No matter where you are, I'll always be thinking of you."

You blinked back tears, kissing him one last time. "And I'll always cherish our time together," you replied, your voice breaking.

The soft hum of the airplane engines filled the cabin as you settled into your seat, the familiar sensation of takeoff sending a shiver of anticipation down your spine. As Japan fell away beneath you, the city lights gradually dwindling into tiny specks against the vast expanse of darkness, a sense of melancholy settled over you like a heavy blanket.

With each passing minute, the distance between you and Tokyo grew, stretching across the horizon like an unbridgeable chasm. The memories of your time together with Satoru lingered in your mind, haunting you like echoes of a dream long past. The laughter, the tears, the whispered promises exchanged in the quiet moments of intimacy—they all seemed like distant echoes of a reality that now felt impossibly far away.

Outside the airplane window, the world rushed by in a blur of lights and shadows, the landscape below shifting and changing with every passing mile. And yet, despite the constant motion, a part of you felt rooted in place, anchored to the memories of your time in Japan and the bittersweet ache of saying goodbye.

Meanwhile, back in Tokyo, Satoru stood at the terminal window, his gaze fixed on the dwindling speck of your departing plane as it disappeared into the night sky. A sense of longing gripped his heart, a yearning for the warmth of your presence and the comfort of your touch.

As the final traces of your plane vanished from sight, Satoru made a silent vow to hold onto the memories of your time together, to cherish them like precious treasures tucked away in the deepest recesses of his heart. For even though the miles now stretched between you, he knew that your bond transcended distance and time, a love that would endure even the greatest of challenges.

Now you're in California

And he’s still waitin' for ya

Will you change your mind?

Satoru thinks would give it all up

As long as you both become an ‘us’

IT WAS HARD TO BELIEVE A YEAR’S PASSED. As the final scenes of Jujutsu Kaisen wrapped up for Satoru Gojo's character, he anticipated a much-needed break to unwind and rejuvenate. After all, the relentless filming schedule had left him yearning for some solitude and relaxation.

So, when he found himself concluding another exhausting day on set, he didn't expect any interruptions. However, the sound of a knock on his door piqued his curiosity, stirring a faint sense of intrigue within him.

Approaching the door with a mixture of surprise and anticipation, Satoru swung it open, revealing the unexpected yet delightful sight of you standing on his doorstep. A small, enigmatic smile played upon your lips, instantly lifting the weight of fatigue from his shoulders. In that moment, he felt a rush of warmth flood his being, a welcome reprieve from the demands of his hectic schedule.

Despite the weariness lingering in his bones, Satoru couldn't suppress the spark of curiosity that ignited within him. What could have brought you here, he wondered, in this moment of respite? As he gazed upon your familiar face, he found himself drawn to your presence, eager to unravel the mystery behind your unexpected visit.

With a gentle smile and a twinkle of curiosity in his eyes, Satoru welcomed you into his home, ready to embrace the unexpected turn of events and the company of a cherished friend.

"Hey," you said softly, your voice filled with warmth. "Can I come in?"

"Of course," Satoru replied, stepping aside to let you enter. He watched as you made your way into his apartment, taking in the familiar surroundings with a sense of nostalgia.

As you settled onto the couch, Satoru couldn't help but feel a rush of emotions wash over him. It had been so long since he had last seen you, and yet the sight of you sitting there felt oddly comforting.

"I've missed you, Satoru." you said, breaking the silence that hung between you. “I really did.”

Satoru's heart skipped a beat at your words, his gaze meeting yours with a mixture of longing and regret. "I've missed you too, darling." he admitted quietly.

As the hours passed in the comfortable embrace of conversation, the atmosphere between you and Satoru grew increasingly intimate. Words flowed effortlessly, weaving tales of shared memories and dreams for the future. Laughter mingled with moments of quiet reflection, creating a tapestry of shared experiences and aspirations.

However, as the conversation delved into more serious territory, a solemn undertone settled over the room. In the gentle glow of subdued lighting, you found yourself unable to suppress the weight of regret that had long been weighing upon your heart. With a hesitant breath, you voiced the thoughts that had been gnawing at your conscience, allowing vulnerability to seep into the space between you.

Each word carried the weight of unspoken emotions as you bare your soul, laying bare the regrets that had lingered in the recesses of your mind. Memories of past mistakes and missed opportunities surfaced, casting shadows upon the present moment. Yet, in the quiet stillness of the night, you found solace in the act of confession, seeking redemption in the honesty of your words.

As you spoke, Satoru listened with unwavering attention, his gaze filled with empathy and understanding. There was no judgment in his eyes, only a profound sense of compassion that enveloped you like a comforting embrace. In that moment of vulnerability, you found solace in the shared intimacy of confession, unburdening your heart of the regrets that had held you captive for so long.

"I wish I had been willing to try being with you," you confessed, your voice tinged with sorrow. "I was so scared of getting hurt that I pushed you away."

Satoru reached out to gently brush a stray strand of hair from your face, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. "I've never changed my mind," he said earnestly. "I've always wanted to be with you."

You looked up at him, your eyes searching for any sign of doubt. "Would you like it if I came to stay with you?" you asked hesitantly. "To try and fix what we broke?"

A smile tugged at the corners of Satoru's lips as he reached out to take your hand in his. "I'd like that," he replied softly. "More than anything."

You pulled you close and let his lips press on yours.

You smiled against his lips as you returned the favor.

You were the happiest you were in a very long time.

Because now you could truly be together, an ‘us’.

epilogue

The press tour was supposed to be a straightforward affair, a chance to promote your film together and engage with fans. But little did you know, it would turn into a hilariously chaotic adventure thanks to Satoru Gojo's inability to keep his feelings for you under wraps.

As you and Satoru made your way to the first stop on the tour, you couldn't help but notice the mischievous glint in his eyes. "Remember, Satoru," you whispered, trying to keep a straight face, "We agreed to keep our relationship on the down-low during the interviews."

Satoru flashed you a grin, his signature smirk bordering on outright mischief. "Of course, darling," he replied, his voice dripping with faux innocence. "I'm the epitome of discretion. Don’t you worry about me.”

But as soon as the interviews began, it became abundantly clear that discretion was the last thing on Satoru's mind. He couldn't resist sneaking affectionate glances your way, his gaze lingering a beat too long and his smiles a tad too fond.

At first, you tried to play it cool, offering subtle nudges and warning glances whenever Satoru's antics threatened to give away your secret. But as the day wore on, it became increasingly evident that Satoru was a lost cause when it came to hiding his feelings.

As the interviewer leaned in, her eyes gleaming with anticipation, she posed the question that had been lingering in the air like a tantalizing secret. "So, tell us about the incredible on-screen chemistry between you two. What's the secret?"

Satoru's eyes lit up with an almost mischievous sparkle as he leaned forward, ready to deliver his response with all the dramatic flair he could muster. "Ah, the chemistry," he began, his voice dripping with theatricality. "It's like the universe conspired to bring us together, like two celestial bodies destined to collide in a glorious explosion of... of... chemistry!"

You couldn't help but stifle a laugh at his over-the-top theatrics, trying to maintain a facade of professionalism as you exchanged a knowing glance with the interviewer. But Satoru was on a roll, his enthusiasm impossible to contain.

"It's like when you mix sodium with water," he continued, his hands gesturing wildly as he spoke. "Boom! Instant chemistry! Except, you know, without the explosions and potential loss of eyebrows."

The interviewer chuckled nervously, unsure whether to be amused or concerned by Satoru's increasingly elaborate metaphors. "Um, right," she said, trying to steer the conversation back on track. "So, how do you two prepare for those emotionally intense scenes?"

Satoru's grin widened, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Oh, you know," he replied, his voice laden with innuendo. "Lots of... uh... method acting exercises. And plenty of off-screen... rehearsals."

You nearly choked on your water, desperately trying to suppress a snort of laughter as Satoru winked at you with a devilish grin. It was clear that keeping a straight face during this interview was going to be a lost cause, but hey, at least it made for great entertainment.

The interviewer leaned in, her eyes gleaming with curiosity and mischief. "Oh, there's a story to tell between you two, Gojo-san. I can feel it!"

Satoru threw his head back with a hearty laugh, his infectious chuckle filling the room. "Oh, you have no idea!" he teased, shooting you a playful wink. "But I'm keeping it hush, hush, okay? Only I get to enjoy what my precious darling here, hm? None for any of you!"

You could practically feel the collective eyebrow raises from the rest of the cast and crew, their knowing glances leaving no doubt that they knew it all too well. Some were even trying to hide their laughter, some were just plain stunned.

You couldn't help but roll your eyes at his theatrical declaration, trying to stifle a giggle as you shook your head in mock exasperation. "You're impossible, Satoru." you teased, unable to hide the fondness in your voice.

But Satoru simply grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he leaned in closer. "Ah, but that's why you love me, darling," he quipped, his tone filled with playful arrogance. "Now, let's keep the focus on the show, shall we? We wouldn't want to give away all our secrets just yet."

The interviewer nodded eagerly, though it was clear that she was already mentally drafting headlines about the mysterious off-screen romance between the two of you. But as the interview continued, punctuated by Satoru's irreverent humor and your shared laughter, you couldn't help but feel grateful for the chaos he brought into your life. After all, who else could turn a simple press tour into a riotous adventure filled with laughter and love?

By the end of the day, it was clear that your attempts at discretion had failed spectacularly. But as you and Satoru collapsed into fits of giggles backstage, you realized that maybe, just maybe, keeping your relationship under wraps was overrated. After all, who could resist the charm of a man so hopelessly in love?

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lamemaster · 2 months ago

Text

The Monster Who Ate Words

Request: Hello (*^^*) Can i please request an Arranged Marriage AU story for Maedhors x Vanyar Reader? Let's say reader is a bit intimidated by Maedhors ( who has not shown much interest in her ). And Maedhors doesn't want to scare her so he keeps his distance.

Pairing: Maedhros x Reader

Genre: Arranged marriage au

Summary: Nelyafinwe was good. Good enough in your books. Good looking from the times you had met in childhood, a great politician if rumors from Tirion were to be believed, and tall enough to expect respectably tall elflings in the future.

AN: Thanks for requesting! I hope you like this :3 I really enjoyed writing this. Unedited for now don't kill me pls I have 3 little fish to feed.

“He hasn’t bothered to show face even once!” You scowl adjusting the errant pendant. “So why should I be the one to write to him?” You turn to your father, who by now has folded into himself like a petulant sunflower at sunset.

“He is a prince!” Your mother roars undeterred. “He probably does more than just writing children’s fables in his free time, daughter mine.” To this your father protests silently to your mother. Only to flail helplessly.

Such has been the case for your parents. Your father- the distressed damsel and your mother- a fire-breathing drake.

And you were nothing if not her rage personified. Which was wildly out of place in most Vanya settings. Some astray friends of yours had even jested in passing about you taking after your father-in-law, Crown Prince Feanaro more than his eldest.

An arranged marriage to Nelyafinwe hadn’t been the most unexpected. Born to Ingwe’s brother, you expected such. Given that you rarely held the passion and patience for sweet nothings for a romance of your choosing.

Nelyafinwe was good. Good enough in your books. Good looking from the times you had met in childhood, a great politician if rumors from Tirion were to be believed, and tall enough to expect respectably tall elflings in the future.

Additionally, much to your ire and your friend group’s joy, if a certain Telerin minstrel was to be believed then, the son of Feanaro possessed worthy assets. A fact that you swore did not bother you to anyone who dared to bring up the topic.

Your betrothal to him had been set up 2 loar ago. An agreement was established through embellished scrolls and a piece of jewel exchanged by each side. That jewel now the emerald that had been forged into the pendant that hung from your neck for the past 2 loar.

Binding you to the Feanorian with the dignity less than that of a stabled mare.

Love, you did not expect. But such coldness had hurt. Absence of even a single acknowledgement had hurt. This your mother knew well. Better than your soft-hearted father could ever understand. For even rocks nestled in the depths of Earth crack under the pressure of an unyielding hammer.

“My letter or the absence of it will make little difference.” You whisper and what follows is your mother’s uncanny silence.

You have written to him. For two loar, you have written. Every week at the beginning of your betrothal, letters about Vanyamar, about your favored writings, or scents and silks that you would like for your wedding.

Those soon dwindled to monthly updates with perfunctory greetings and everyday happenings. Sometimes about stories that you wrote for the children in court. Or about elflings born to your siblings.

No matter what you wrote, Nelyafinwe never once did reply. As if your letters by some sorcery never slipped past the borders of Vanyamar.

The last one had been short. A last-ditch effort on your end. A simple request. To meet at the Feast of Trees. That is all you had wanted of your betrothed. And he had failed.

Out of all of Finwe’s line, Nelyafinwe had been the one to not show his face. A fact that you bitterly swallowed with a forced smile and cheerfully chatted with your future in-laws.

At least Nerdanel and Feanaro seemed to possess basic decency of character to bear the Vanya thrust their way.

Nelyafinwe despised it. The lingering scent of a promise that his betrothal held. Unfailingly binding compromise.

A business matter to be ended over correspondence. He hadn’t given it much thought. His resentment did not allow it.

The piece of amethyst that arrived with the letter had been handed off to Curvo and his father, who within a week produced a hairpin that ended up somewhere in the mess of Nelyafinwe’s room or the drawers of his study on most days. Gathering dust away from his gaze. Next to the letters.

He had desired a choice. Unlike the horde of brothers and cousins that fate had thrusted into his life, Nelyafinwe had desired love.

But that too had been stripped away from his hands when his grandfather in a matter of a single day roped his father, who on most days detested Vanyar to arrange a wedding with one for his eldest son.

It started as a silent protest that soon became a habit. The letters from Vanyamar were thrusted into the farthest drawer where the light of the trees barely ever lingered.

Why could you not understand his signs? Was it not clear that he did not desire such a connection? He did not want your words or get to know you. He did not want it because depriving himself was the only way of showing his father what this had done to him.

For once, he did not wish to be agreeable, gentle Nelyo everyone had made him into. This was his rebellion.

Some part of him had protested such cruelty towards you. What fault was it yours that elders desired a marriage of convenience? How fair was it for you to be the scapegoat of his ire? But those voices remained quiet.

So it came as a surprise when one day, your words found him despite all he tried to run away from them.

Crouching next to Ambarussar, who sat surrounded by the hurricane of their mess of toys and all the possible possessions, Nelyafinwe saw tiny books. Handwritten illustrated books that the twins read aloud as Kano snored next to them, sprawled on a chaise.

“What are you reading?” Maitimo sat next to them, only for the twins to ignore their usual protocol of climbing all over him. Amras sighed, barely glancing up at his elder brother “The Monster Who Ate Words.” He replied, his eyes glued to the book.

The pages of the book, inked it a clean hand, next to the drawing of a long red serpent with blazing eyes caught Maedhros’s interest. “Sister-in-law wrote these,” Amrod looked up at Nelyo, thrusting the book in his hands. “She designed the serpent after you!” The twins giggled now sharing a book as Maitimo flipped through the pages.

A childish tale indeed. The story went- on a long lonely island lived a raging serpent with red mane and glimmering silver eyes. The serpent terrorized the island with his loud roars and ability to devour words. This left the world empty and elflings bereft of any tales or lullabies.

The ridiculous tale further developed into a group of outcast elflings gathering the words hidden in their textbooks to fight the serpent that detested sums and numbers.

Nelyafinwe scoffed finishing the book. He was perfectly capable of summing, and no, he did not hate numbers or mathematical calculations.

It took a moment for him to spot the empty room. Ambarussar had fled to Eru knows where and Kano had left the room unnoticed by Nelyafinwe. Rays of Laurelin had dimmed casting a mellow light in the room.

Suddenly Maitimo wanted to go far away from the cluttered room. He wished to get on his mare and wander until his mind calmed down. Until his heart rate evened out. He despised this restlessness.

For his heart could not remember the last time he had held your letter. The last time he had the chance to thrust it into the drawer. He could not remember.

He had failed to notice it. This settled like dread in his gut. That something had changed. Somehow, from a stranger he had become the monster in your stories.

Nelyafinwe does not run away. He knows he cannot do that, no matter how much his heart craves for freedom from such obligations. He is the eldest-born Feanorian. Named after the high king of Noldor.

So seated in the silent dark of his study he opens the drawer full of the same writing as his brother's books.

Picking up the Amethyst hairpin heavy in his palm, he pulls his hair back and uses his betrothal gift after 2 loar. It holds his hair with the comfort he is familiar with. His father’s work never fail their purpose. But this one in specific is achingly familiar as it settles into his hair.

With a distant curiosity, he wonders what gem of his claim rests on your being. He cannot remember the conversations 2 loar ago. He had merely agreed to the first suggestion by Indis and his mother.

One by one he reads through your letters. Words leave him heavy with guilt. His throat- scratchy with the fullness of his heart and eyes.

He is one wretched betrothed. Worthy of all the villainy in your books.

He reads from the first letters of ill concealed excitement of introductions. Of likes and dislikes, ideas of works in progress, to rare fleeting letters about weather and courtly affairs.

In a matter of hours, he goes through the process of getting to know you and losing you. But he does not stop reading. He does not deserve the respite of that ignorance.

And so he picks up the quill and begins his labor. For days he sits in his study replying to the letters. His likes, dislikes, hobbies, courtly affairs, and a short review of The Monster Who Ate Words.

To quell the heartache of his own making. This in the least was of his own choice.

#the silmarillion #silmarillion x reader #maedhros x reader #maedhros #arranged marriage au #he's kind of a douche ngl

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doumadono · 11 months ago

Text

Warnings: violence, viking!Dabi, viking!Shoto, earl!Endeavor, viking!Hawks, viking!Natsuo, fem!reader, viking themes, viking!Bakugo, viking!Kirishima, viking!Aizawa, viking!All Might, blood and injuries, gore, implied smut (non-con), Shoto is a massive jerk

Summary: impatience simmers within you as Touya's trip lingers. Upon the troops' return, the horrifying news unfolds — the prince has fallen in battle. Grieving, you brace for no further blows, only for Shoto to remind you to always expect the unexpected

Word count: circa 11.3k

A/N: if you'd like to be added to the taglist for this series, please let me know ♥

KVITRAVN - MHA VIKING AU • MY HERO ACADEMIA MASTERLIST

PREVIOUS CHAPTER • NEXT CHAPTER

ACT V - NEW BEGINNINGS

The biting cold pierced through Touya's sleep, and the distant echoes of an unfamiliar sound drew him out of the warmth of his furs. Shifting quietly, he glanced over to see his younger brother, Shoto, still deep in slumber. The tent flaps rustled lightly with the night breeze, and Touya reached for his dagger, his breath visible in the frosty air.

Carefully, he wrapped himself in a thick fur, its warmth a shield against the harsh northern chill. As he stepped outside, the moon cast an ethereal glow on the snow-covered landscape. The world seemed frozen, a silent expanse of white.

The muffled sounds persisted, guiding Touya through the darkness. He noticed the sleeping figures of their fellow warriors, their breath creating small clouds in the frigid night air. Only Hawks sat near the dwindling fire, his attention fixed on the rhythmic motions of polishing his axe.

"Prince Touya," Hawks greeted without looking up, his voice low yet carrying an air of confidence.

"Hawks," Touya acknowledged, his eyes scanning the surroundings. "Did you hear that noise? Something's not right."

Hawks paused, setting the axe aside, and finally looked at Touya. The firelight flickered, casting shadows on his sharp features. "I heard nothing out of the ordinary. Perhaps it's just the wind playing tricks on your mind, my lord.”

Touya tightened his grip on the dagger, his instincts telling him otherwise. "No, it was different. Like footsteps or the creaking of snow under pressure."

Hawks raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "Your senses are sharp, Touya. But I assure you, all is calm."

As if on cue, the wind howled, carrying with it an eerie stillness. Touya remained unconvinced, his gaze fixated on the vast wilderness surrounding them. "I'll take a quick look around. Better safe than sorry."

Hawks nodded, resuming his task. "Do what you must, my lord. But don't let your imagination run wild. These lands can play tricks on the mind."

Touya acknowledged the advice, leaving Hawks by the fading fire. Each step through the snow amplified the hushed night. The cold bit at his exposed skin, but determination fueled his movement.

In the quiet expanse, Touya's senses heightened. The darkness revealed no secrets, and the mysterious sounds remained elusive. Yet, as he patrolled the perimeter, a lingering unease settled within him.

Touya's boots crunched softly on the snow-covered ground as he wandered back to the camp. The cold air stung his face, but it was a welcome distraction from the thoughts that had been haunting him. The familiar sight of the camp brought a mix of comfort and yearning.

He found a large rock, partially buried under the pristine snow, and with a heavy sigh, he brushed off enough snow to make a seat. Settling down, he gazed at the camp bathed in moonlight. The tents stood stoically, and the dying embers of the fire flickered in the crisp night air.

Yet, despite the serene surroundings, Touya's mind betrayed him. It drifted away from the snow-covered landscape, back to you. Your laughter echoed in his ears, and the memory of the warmth of your body against his lingered like a sweet torment.

He closed his eyes for a moment, a deep breath escaping him. The image of you, the one he cherished above all else, filled his thoughts. The way your eyes sparkled, the sound of your voice, and the gentle touch of your hand were etched in his mind. In the midst of the harsh Viking world, you were his sanctuary. "I miss you," he whispered to the quiet night, as if the wind might carry his words to you. "These missions, the cold, the battles — they all feel so empty without you by my side, sweet Y/N."

His fingers absentmindedly traced patterns in the snow as he lost himself in the memories. The way you teased him, the shared glances that spoke volumes, and the moments of quiet understanding between you two. The world outside may have been harsh, but in your company, Touya found a refuge — a haven of warmth and love he never knew before.

He longed for the day when he could return to you, to feel the comfort of your embrace and to hear your laughter once more. The countdown to being reunited seemed to stretch on endlessly, each day a reminder of the miles that separated them.

With a heavy heart, Touya opened his eyes, refocusing on the camp before him.

The moonlit night cast an eerie glow on the snow-covered ground as Touya's eyes narrowed, catching a hint of movement to the right of the camp. Dark, crooked silhouettes emerged from the shadows of nearby bushes, and instinctively, Touya tightened his grip on the dagger, rising from his snowy seat.

Silent as the wind, he moved towards the camp, his senses heightened. As he drew closer, the outlines became clear — a pack of wolves, their eyes gleaming with hunger, led by a massive, black alpha. Time was of the essence, and Touya knew he had to act swiftly. "Wolves!" he shouted, the urgency in his voice cutting through the night.

The camp stirred, warriors scrambling to their feet, roused by Touya's warning.

Hawks grabbed his axe and joined Touya at the forefront.

The alpha wolf, towering over its pack, snarled, signaling the onslaught about to unfold.

The first wolf lunged at Touya, its fangs bared, but he sidestepped with a dancer's grace, bringing down his dagger with deadly precision. The clash of steel against fur echoed in the cold night air as the skirmish erupted.

Hawks, his axe a lethal extension of his will, swung with calculated brutality. His strikes were a dance of death, each swing met with the desperate howls of wolves. His movements were fluid, a deadly display of skill honed through countless battles.

Touya, too, fought with a controlled ferocity, his dagger slicing through the air. Wolves leaped, jaws snapping, but he evaded and struck with lethal accuracy. The snow around them stained with crimson as the battle waged on.

Meanwhile, Hawks battled the remaining wolves, his axe a whirlwind of death. The warriors from the camp rallied beside them, forming a united front against the relentless onslaught. The air was filled with the clash of weapons, the snarls of wolves, and the shouts of warriors determined to defend their camp.

The aftermath of the vicious wolf attack left a somber scene, with fallen warriors scattered across the snow-covered ground. The hungry wolves, driven by primal instincts, had bitten through armor and flesh, leaving no room for mercy.

As Touya fought to defend the camp, the harsh reality of the night unfolded before him.

In the chaos, Touya's keen eyes caught the movement of one particularly aggressive wolf, its maw stained with the blood of fallen warriors. With a sinking feeling, he realized it was making its way towards his tent, where Shoto likely still slept, blissfully unaware of the impending danger.

Touya's conflicted emotions churned within him. The familial bond he shared with Shoto clashed with the tumultuous history of rivalry and strife. Yet, beneath the layers of resentment, a protective instinct emerged.

Ignoring the exhaustion and the wounds that marked his body, Touya lunged towards the black alpha, the very embodiment of the danger. With a swift, determined motion, he plunged his dagger into the left eye of the alpha, a howl of pain reverberating through the night.

The wounded alpha, blinded and enraged, howled in fury. Seizing the opportunity, Touya sprinted towards his tent, his heart pounding with urgency. The shadows danced around him as he raced against time, driven by a brotherly love that transcended the bitterness of their past. Touya's heart pounded in his chest as he sprinted towards the tents, a surge of panic coursing through his veins. The distant cries of victory were abruptly drowned out by the guttural growl emanating from within the camp. His steps quickened, the urgency of the situation etched across his face.

Upon reaching the tent, he was met with a chilling sight. One of the wolves had managed to get into the tent where Shoto lay peacefully asleep. The growl rumbled from deep within its throat, a menacing prelude to the imminent attack. The wolf's predatory gaze locked onto Shoto, who remained blissfully unaware of the impending danger.

The growls of the approaching wolves tore through the tranquility of the night, reaching Shoto's ears finally as he lay within the confines of the tent. The cold air seemed to carry a sinister undertone, and with a start, Shoto's eyes snapped open. His breath caught in his throat as he realized the danger that lurked just next to him.

Turning his head slowly, Shoto's eyes widened as he beheld the massive silhouette of the wolf. Its fur blended with the shadows, and the gleam in its eyes spoke of a hunger that sent a shiver down Shoto's spine. Young prince knew that a single misstep, a solitary muscle twitch, could trigger an attack.

Touya, sensing the imminent threat, moved with a predator's grace. Silently, he approached the wolf from behind, his dagger gleaming in the moonlight.

Shoto's heart pounded in his chest as he watched his elder brother with the corner of his eye, a mixture of fear and hope swirling within him.

As Touya lunged forward, time seemed to slow. The blade flashed in the cold night air, and with one swift and precise motion, he slit the wolf's throat. The wolf’s growls turned to gurgles, and its once fierce eyes now reflected the glint of death.

Shoto, still frozen in place, watched as Touya's decisive action saved him from the impending danger. The wolf collapsed, its lifeblood staining the furs of the tent beneath it. The camp, now bathed in an uneasy silence, bore witness to the aftermath of the fierce struggle.

Touya, standing over the fallen wolf, cast a quick glance back at Shoto. “You okay?”

“Yeah…” Shoto exhaled, unaware that he had been holding his breath, and nodded in gratitude.

Touya nodded in response to Shoto, a silent acknowledgment of the unspoken bond between them. As Shoto hastily donned his fur and reached for his axe, the brothers emerged from the tent, greeted by the cold reality of the aftermath. The once serene camp now bore the scars of the recent struggle, marked by the fallen bodies of both wolves and warriors.

Surveying the scene, Touya's gaze fell on the fallen warriors, a somber recognition of the price paid in the night's skirmish. The brothers shared a moment of silent mourning for their fallen comrades before turning their attention to the survivors.

Hawks, with his axe still in hand, approached the duo. His eyes, however, were fixed on Shoto, completely disregarding Touya and the fresh wounds that adorned his forearms and shoulders. There was an air of concern in Hawks' voice as he addressed Shoto, "You okay, my lord?"

Shoto, though visibly shaken by the recent events, nodded in response. "I'm fine," he replied tersely, his gaze flickering briefly toward Touya.

Touya, despite the wounds that adorned his frame, remained stoic. The chill of the night seemed to seep through the fabric of his torn furs.

Hawks, seemingly ignoring Touya's injuries, continued to address Shoto. "Good. We need everyone on their feet. The night is unforgiving, and we can't afford to let our guard down."

Touya stated, "We need to find and kill the alpha. It couldn't have gone far. Until we bring it down, we won't be able to rest. The alpha might return with other wolves, and we can't afford to let that happen."

Shoto exchanged a glance with Hawks.

Hawks, always decisive in his actions, nodded in agreement. "Touya's right. We can't let that beast roam free. It's a threat to the camp and to our people. Let's go after it, end this, and secure the safety of our kin."

“Hans,” Touya turned to one of the warriors. "Collect the fallen comrades and do your utmost to attend to the wounded before our return," the leader instructed.

The elder man acknowledged with a solemn nod, a silent commitment to carry out the directive in the face of adversity.

The trio, bound by a common purpose, set out into the frigid night once more. The snow beneath their boots muffled their footsteps as they followed the trail left by the retreating alpha. The air was thick with tension, the awareness of the lurking danger guiding their every move.

Touya, with his senses sharp and focused, led the way.

Shoto and Hawks followed, their axes at the ready, prepared for whatever awaited them in the dark expanse of the Viking wilderness.

The trio moved cautiously through the dense thicket, their senses attuned to every rustle and snap of twigs beneath their boots. In the distance, a quiet guttural growl reverberated through the still night air, signaling their proximity to the wounded alpha. The sound set an eerie tone, foreshadowing the impending confrontation.

As they pushed through the bushes, the landscape opened up into a small meadow blanketed with thick snow. Moonlight bathed the clearing, casting an ethereal glow upon the pristine white canvas. In the center, the massive, black alpha wolf limped away, leaving crimson trails in the snow.

The alpha, sensing the pursuit, paused and turned to face the approaching threat. Its fur, once sleek and powerful, now clung to its scarred and mangled frame. The air became charged with tension as the alpha bared its fangs, a silent declaration of defiance.

Touya, undeterred by the formidable presence before him, stepped forward. His dagger gleamed in the moonlight as he closed the distance between them. T

The alpha, fixated on the approaching menace, seemed to recognize the danger that loomed.

"Hawks, head left. Shoto, make your way to the right," Touya commanded, his movements deliberate as he advanced toward the wolf. He didn't allow his gaze to waver, maintaining unbroken eye contact with the creature. Breaking that connection would trigger the wolf's attack, and Touya couldn't afford a single blink in this dangerous dance between predator and prey.

Shoto and Hawks shared another glance before silently adhering to Touya's directive. They moved with utmost stealth, the only sound the hushed crunch of snow under their boots, as they navigated the shadows of the night.

Touya began a deliberate circle around the wounded animal, and in response, the wolf mirrored his movements, growling and revealing its still bloodied, menacing fangs to the scarred man. The tension hung heavy in the air as the primal dance unfolded.

The wolf, fueled by a mix of pain and aggression, was the first to make a move. In the blink of an eye, it lunged at Touya, meeting the assault with swift retaliation. A dagger found its mark in the animal's side, but rather than deter it, the attack seemed to stoke the flames of its fury.

Touya, thrown off balance, toppled to the ground. The wolf, undeterred, closed in, its snarling muzzle snapping dangerously close to the scarred man's face. In the struggle to fend off the relentless predator, Touya's desperate plea cut through the frigid air, "Help!"

For Shoto, the unfolding scene was a twisted opportunity. It seemed as though disposing of Touya could be easier than he had initially thought; all he had to do was wait and watch as his brother faced the relentless assault of the wolf.

Hawks, torn by a lingering human instinct to intervene, hesitated. However, his intention to step in was halted by Shoto's raised hand, a silent command to stay back.

As the wolf persisted in its attack, Touya fought back with determination. The dagger found its mark several more times, warm blood coating his hands as he struggled to free himself from the ferocious jaws. In the midst of the struggle, Touya's voice cut through the tension, a desperate plea for assistance. "What's wrong with you, Shoto?! Hawks, help me kill this thing!"

Shoto's eyes narrowed, a chilling resolve in his gaze. "Don't you dare to move," he warned Hawks, the threat laced with a cold determination that left no room for negotiation.

Touya's brow furrowed for a fleeting moment at the words of his younger brother, but determination fueled him. With a final effort, he managed to free himself from the relentless jaws of the wolf, crawling away to the edge of a high bluff that marked the meadow's eastern boundary. The wolf lay motionless a short distance away. Touya, on trembling limbs, slowly knelt, gasping for air, his body still trembling. He then directed a bewildered gaze at his younger brother. "What the hell!?"

Hawks observed the unfolding dynamics, crossing his arms over his chest, a silent witness to the family drama.

Shoto, undeterred, approached his older brother with a sneer. "Don't misunderstand me, dear brother. I appreciate your help back in the camp, but I'm not about to owe you anything. There's a chasm between us, and nothing will erase it. Life is cruel, always has been. Survival favors the strongest, and, sorry to say, you don't fit that description."

Touya's expression hardened as he slowly rose to his feet. "What the hell, Shoto? I made it clear some time ago — I don't want the power, and I sure as hell don't want that damned earl's crown. It's yours if you want it."

Shoto sighed, idly playing with his axe as he closed the distance between them. "Yeah, yeah. The problem is our illustrious father doesn't see it that way. Rumors are circulating that you've gained favor in his eyes, especially after that last successful raid. I can't let you snatch away what's rightfully mine. I'm sorry."

Touya turned to Hawks, a look of disbelief in his eyes. "Hawks?"

Keigo shrugged, his allegiance clear. "Sorry, my lord, but I've always been loyal to Shoto."

Touya let out a derisive snort. "I can't believe this. I never wanted any of this division between us. It's always been your paranoia about power. I never wanted to harm you, Shoto. I never wanted to take anything from you. All I ever wanted was to live my own life. That's it. You're our father's prized possession, not me."

Shoto tilted his head, a wide smirk playing on his lips. "Indeed. Unfortunately, our father perceives things differently. And now that you've acquired that damn thrall, freeing her and all, I can't wait until the day you get her pregnant. That would seal my fate entirely. You get it, don't you?"

Touya snorted, tightening his grip on a dagger. "I never intended to be at odds with you, Shoto."

Shoto retorted, "Yet it always seems to come down to a fight, doesn't it?"

Before the brothers clashed, Hawks yelled, "Shoto, step aside, the wolf!"

The younger Endeavorson swiftly turned his head for a brief moment, spotting a black wolf poised for an attack. In a swift maneuver, the two-toned haired man dodged, creating an open space between the fatally wounded alpha and his elder brother.

Touya found himself without enough time to evade the impending attack. Bracing for impact, as the wolf leaped toward him, he struggled to maintain balance on the slippery snow. For a fleeting moment, he believed he had regained control, but as he took a step back, the ground beneath his feet disappeared — he stepped into the void of the bluff.

Touya let out a scream, the sound mingling with the wolf's howl as Touya’s dagger once again found its mark on the animal's side. Together, they plummeted into the darkness of the night.

Soon, the night reclaimed its overwhelming silence.

Shoto rose to his feet, accepting the hand offered by Hawks to help him stand. The two exchanged a glance and slowly approached the edge of the bluff, peering down.

Several meters below, they observed Touya's lifeless form pinned beneath the massive wolf that had descended with him. Touya's left leg twisted at an unnatural angle.

Hawks, witnessing the gruesome scene, fought back a wave of nausea, gasping at the sight.

Shoto, however, maintained a stoic expression. "Seems like my problem has resolved itself. Fate decided to lend me a hand that night. I thought we might have to resort to poison, huh. Move, Hawks. We need to return to camp and share the unfortunate news with our fellow warriors." With those words, Shoto left, a self-satisfied grin playing on his lips.

Hawks watched Shoto in silence, his gaze lingering for a moment. Then, he turned his attention back to the scene below. A quiet tear traced down his cheek, falling onto the snow stained crimson by the alpha's blood.

Meanwhile, you went about your daily tasks in your new, free life, the familiar sense of accomplishment warmed your spirit. The small hut, now a cozy haven, stood as a testament to your new position.

Helga and Natsuo, friends who had become like family, offered their unwavering support during the two days it took to set up your new home.

One evening, Helga entered the room, "How's everything coming along, dear Y/N? Need any more help with the arrangements?"

You smiled, grateful for her presence, "Thank you, Helga. I think we've covered everything. Your help has been invaluable."

Natsuo, sitting near a tiny fireplace, chimed in, "It's the least we could do. This is a fresh start for you, and we're glad to be a part of it."

As you arranged items on a shelf, Helga leaned against the doorframe, "I must say, this place looks cozy. It's a far cry from the constraints of the past, isn't it?"

You nodded, "Indeed. Freedom was a gift I never knew I needed. And having friends like you made it all the more special."

Natsuo grinned, "Well, now that your new home is all set, what's next on your agenda?"

You paused, looking around, "I think I'll just try to find myself something to do.”

Later in the evening, Natsuo brought pails of water to your hut. He greeted you warmly, "Evening! Thought you might need some water after your day."

You thanked him, taking the pails. As you both sat outside your hut, enjoying the cool breeze, Natsuo couldn't help but notice a hint of sadness in your expression. "Something on your mind?"

You sighed, "It's just... Touya has been gone for so long on their mission. I miss him, you know?"

Natsuo nodded empathetically, "I get it. He'll be back, though. The missions are tough, but he's resilient. And you've got us here to keep you company in the meantime."

You smiled, appreciating his comforting words.

As the evening unfolded, the sound of shared stories and laughter echoed under the night sky, creating a comforting ambiance. Natsuo, always a good companion, shared anecdotes from the day's activities, lightening the mood.

You couldn't help but be grateful for the supportive community you now found yourself in. The conversations provided a soothing balm to the longing for Touya's return. Natsuo's presence, in particular, brought a sense of camaraderie that eased the ache of missing your partner.

"Touya will be back. The missions are demanding, but he's resilient. In the meantime, you've got us here to keep you company, to share these moments. We're like family now,” Natsuo spoke reassuringly.

As Natsuo prepared to leave, he looked at you with a thoughtful expression. "You know, sometimes these expeditions take longer than expected. It's the nature of the missions we undertake. They can be unpredictable, but it doesn't mean something has gone wrong. Touya is skilled, and they have a strong team with them." He continued, "I understand it's tough waiting, especially when you miss him, but it's part of this life. We've all been through it. Just remember, when they return, it makes the reunions all the more special."

With a warm smile, he bid you goodnight, leaving you with a sense of gratitude for the new beginnings and the supportive companionship that now colored your days and nights.

That night, as the moon cast an eerie glow through the tiny window of your hut, sleep enveloped you in a suffocating darkness. Tossing and turning on your modest cot, you found yourself trapped in the clutches of a haunting nightmare.

The air in the room felt heavy, and the silence of the night was disrupted by your whimpers and soft cries. In the realm of your dreams, shadows morphed into menacing figures, their faces shrouded in darkness as they circled around you. Each step they took echoed like a sinister drumbeat, intensifying the dread that gripped your soul.

As you lay paralyzed in the dream, the figures closed in, whispering malevolent secrets that clawed at the edges of your consciousness. Their voices, a chilling chorus, spoke of death and despair, weaving a tapestry of nightmares that threatened to consume you whole.

“He’s dead… He’s dead…”

"Only despair and sorrow lie ahead for you."

The cold sweat on your brow mirrored the intensity of the nightmare. Your cot felt like a prison, the thin fabric of reality separating you from the abyss of your subconscious fears. The figures, now distorted specters, reached out with ghostly hands, fingers like icy tendrils threatening to grasp your very essence.

In the grip of this macabre dream, the fear of death loomed large. The shadows converged, swirling around you like a vortex of impending doom. The nightmarish scenes played out in vivid detail — the echoes of your own cries, the palpable scent of fear, and the taste of desperation lingering in the air.

As the nightmare reached its crescendo, you jolted awake, gasping for breath. The moonlight spilled into the room, offering a stark contrast to the oppressive darkness of your dream. The reality of the small hut and the sound of your racing heart gradually replaced the nightmarish visions, but the residue of fear lingered, haunting the corners of your mind. The weight of the dream clung to you, a spectral reminder of the fragility of the human psyche in the face of the unknown.

Tears streamed down your face, and stifled sobs resonated in the stillness. Clutching your pillow as if it were a lifeline, you whispered Touya's name over and over, a desperate mantra that echoed the ache in your heart. “Touya, my love… Touya…”

Instinctively, an unsettling feeling gnawed at you, urging you to acknowledge that something was amiss. The weight of the night pressed upon you, and a haunting sense of foreboding hung in the air.

In the hushed hours before dawn, you made a decision. The nagging intuition that something was wrong compelled you to seek solace in Natsuo's understanding. As the first light of morning painted the sky, you resolved to confide in him, hoping that together, you could unravel the mystery that lingered in the shadows of your troubled dreams.

"Hey, Katsuki!? You think he's alive?" The tall, square-built man with red hair asked, casually skinning a massive, black wolf.

The ash-blond man, crouching next to a seemingly lifeless scarred figure, nonchalantly touched the man's shoulder with the haft of his axe. There was no immediate response. "It seems he's damn well dead, no doubt."

The red-haired man packed the wolf's skin into a sizable saddlebag secured to the side of his white mare. "We shouldn't leave him like that. We should bury him."

"Tsk! Oi, Kirishima, don't expect me to touch this rotting piece of shit. If you want that so much, bury him yourself. I can dig a damn hole. What the hell. We came to hunt, not deal with this crap."

"We apparently hunted down a dead man," Kirishima joked lightly, strolling closer. "Hmmm, he must've fallen from that bluff."

"He must've been a complete idiot then to get so close to the edge. Idiots always end up with the crap, don't they?"

Kirishima poked the other man's shoulder. "Quit with the disrespect. Odin's watching!" He snorted and crouched next to the man. "That's one nasty wound on his leg. Maybe it's a blessing he died, otherwise, he'd be crippled…"

"Enough chatter, start doing something!" Bakugo growled as he walked aside, scanning the ground for a spot less frozen to dig a grave.

In that moment, Touya's left hand twitched ever so slightly, and he let out a gasp filled with pain.

The sudden movement startled Kirishima, causing the red-haired man to fall back onto his butt. "Fuck! Bakugo! He's fucking alive!"

Bakugo returned to the two and once again pushed the man's shoulder with the hilt of his axe, eliciting a growl of pain. "Kill... Me..." the scarred man whispered.

Bakugo scoffed. "Oi, dumbass, shut the fuck up! Kirishima, guess we gotta take him with us. Even though I'd rather let him die here, it'd be merciful, given his injuries. He's one ugly fucking bastard. Odin himself would get fucking startled looking at this fucking extra."

"We need to bring him along. I'm certain our earl will be interested in this fellow."

"In a damn cripple? You're out of your damn mind, weird hair!" Bakugo growled, contemplating how to get the injured man onto his horse. "I think we gotta build some makeshift stretchers or something. Damn it! Let's move! I don't want to stay here at night. The wolves might have come back."

As Bakugo and Kirishima returned from their expedition, they made their way through the bustling settlement until they reached the earl's hall. With a determined stride, they entered the great hall where Earl Toshinorison held court.

Earl Toshinorison, known as All Might, commanded both respect and awe with his formidable presence. Standing tall and proud, he bore a robust and well-built frame that spoke of a lifetime of battles and victories. His golden hair, though now touched by strands of gray, retained an air of regality, cascading like a radiant mane around his shoulders.

His face, marked by the lines of wisdom and experience, harbored a strong jawline and a pair of piercing, blueish eyes that sparkled with a blend of authority and kindness. Despite the weight of leadership, there was a warm and approachable demeanor that endeared him to his people.

Earl Toshinorison adorned himself in attire that reflected both his status and prowess. A sturdy cloak, billowing with every movement, bore the symbols of his leadership. Beneath it, he wore armor crafted with care, a testament to the battles he had faced and the victories he had achieved.

In the midst of the settlement, he occupied a grand throne within the great hall, a symbol of his leadership and the heart of the community. His voice, when he spoke, carried the weight of authority tempered with a genuine concern for his people.

Earl Toshinorison was not just a leader; he embodied the spirit of a protector, a warrior whose strength and benevolence guided the community through the challenges of Viking life. The combination of his imposing stature, seasoned wisdom, and compassionate leadership made him a figure revered and admired by all who called the settlement their home.

"All Might, my lord," Bakugo greeted with a deep bow, acknowledging the leader of their community.

The earl, seated in his imposing throne, turned to them with a warm yet authoritative smile. "Bakugo, Kirishima, what news do you bring?"

Kirishima stepped forward, his demeanor respectful yet filled with a sense of urgency. "Earl, we found a man on the outskirts. He seemed injured, left for dead. But, surprisingly, he's alive."

All Might's expression shifted to a thoughtful concern. "Alive, you say? A life saved is a tale worth hearing."

Bakugo and Kirishima nodded and gestured to their companions to bring in the injured man. As they approached, Earl Toshinorison observed with keen eyes.

Aizawa, their most ruthless warrior among Toshinori’s settlement, accompanied them. His stoic presence added an air of seriousness to the situation.

The injured man, now resting on a makeshift stretcher, was laid before the earl. Yagi leaned forward, assessing the wounds with a discerning gaze. "A warrior left for dead. Curious."

Aizawa, standing at attention, spoke with his usual pragmatism, "He should've met his end. Perhaps fate has other plans."

All Might nodded in agreement, "Indeed, Shota. We shall tend to his wounds and learn his tale. A life spared under these circumstances may hold a purpose yet unknown."

The air in Skjaldvargr crackled with anticipation as the weary troop led by the Endeavorsons made its way back to the settlement. A murmur of excitement swept through the crowd, and the people gathered in the heart of the village began to cheer, their voices rising in a chorus of relief and hope.

As the warriors, dusted with the tales of their recent endeavors, entered the settlement, the cheers intensified. The crowd's eager eyes followed chests and sacks, laden with the spoils of their expedition. It was a moment of shared joy and anticipation as the warriors slowly unpacked their burdens, revealing treasures and goods from distant lands.

However, the elation in the air was tainted by a somber truth. The troop that returned was noticeably smaller than the one that had ventured out. An unspoken sorrow draped over those families who, instead of welcoming back their loved ones, found themselves gripped by the cold hand of grief. The absence of familiar faces, once vibrant with life, echoed louder than the cheers of triumph.

A hushed solemnity settled over those who faced the harsh reality of loss. Families, with eyes now clouded with tears, stood amidst the celebration, their joy eclipsed by the shadows of grief. The cheers of victory collided with the silent mourning of those who had given more than the spoils of war — a sacrifice written in blood.

The contrast between the jubilation and mourning created an unsettling symphony, a discordant melody that played out in the heart of Skjaldvargr. The warriors continued their unpacking, the clinking of treasures against the somber background of grieving families. It was a poignant reminder of the dual nature of their harsh existence, where triumph and sorrow coexisted like inseparable companions.

Unease nestled within you as you sat at the long table in the Great Hall, eyes fixed on Endeavor occupying the imposing throne. The air felt charged with tension, and the weight of the room bore down on you like an unwelcome burden.

Natsuo poked your side gently as he sat by your side, a playful gesture meant to break the intensity of the moment. "Hey, are you excited to see Touya again? It's been a while."

Your response was a hesitant smile. "Of course, I just... things are different now, aren’t they..."

Natsuo chuckled, "Well, different doesn't always mean bad, right? Touya is still Touya. I bet he's just as eager to see you."

The heavy door to the Great Hall swung open, breaking the tension that hung in the air.

Shoto, the youngest Endeavorson, stepped in with a measured grace, his gaze flickering across the room until it settled on you for a brief moment.

Hawks followed closely behind.

Shoto's eyes met yours briefly, a silent acknowledgment that spoke volumes. The room hushed as the two newcomers approached the throne, their arrival signaling a significant shift in the atmosphere. The weight of anticipation settled on the shoulders of those present, each heartbeat echoing in the grand hall.

Natsuo, by your side, leaned in and whispered, "Here they are. Let's see how this unfolds. I’m curious where Touya is."

"My earl," Shoto bowed his head to greet his father, a gesture mirrored by Hawks.

Endeavor's stern gaze bore down on his son. "It's good to see you back, Shoto. Rumor has it you brought a lot of goods from the trip."

"I did, indeed," the young prince replied. "We also accumulated some losses, my lord."

A subtle tension gripped the air, and an unspoken dread settled upon your heart and soul.

"What do you mean? Where's your older brother?" the earl asked, his frown deepening.

"He died, my lord," Shoto replied, his expression a stoic mask.

"What!" You exclaimed, jolting up from your place. "Impossible!"

Even Endeavor rose from his throne, descending the two steps to be on his son's level. "What do you mean, Shoto? What happened?" The earl’s voice trembled a little.

Hot tears streamed down your face, and Natsuo wrapped his arm around your shoulders, rubbing them in an attempt to bring you some comfort. The weight of the revelation hung heavy in the air, and the Great Hall seemed to echo with the echoes of disbelief and sorrow.

Shoto's voice cut through the somber air of the Great Hall, recounting the harrowing tale of the wolf attack. He spoke of Touya's courage, how he stood against the onslaught to protect his fellow warriors, including Shoto himself. The youngest Endeavorson described how Touya, driven by the need to eliminate the alpha, faced the final confrontation at the edge of the bluff.

As the story unfolded, you felt an invisible weight pressing down on you. Your hands trembled, and a haunting whine escaped your lips, akin to a wounded animal. The anguish of Shoto's words resonated within you, each detail etching pain into your heart.

"He fought valiantly," Shoto continued, his voice steady. "But in the end, the wolf lunged, and they both fell."

Your knees gave way beneath you, and you sank to the ground, overwhelmed by the reality of Touya's fate. The ache in your chest was unbearable, as if your heart had cracked and broken, the searing pain akin to hot iron being poured over your soul.

Natsuo's eyes flared with a sudden intensity, and he snapped at Shoto, "I'm damn sure it wasn't an accident. He just happened to fall off the bluff?! That’s not what Touya would ever let happen! You little coward! I’m sure you put your hand to that!"

Shoto growled angrily in response, his demeanor darkening as he retorted, "Are you even aware of what you're talking about, Natsuo? Accusing me of…"

"He wouldn't just fall off like that!" Natsuo's voice rose, an undercurrent of anger coursing through his words. "Touya was too skilled for that.”

Shoto's expression hardened, his eyes narrowing. "You dare to insinuate…"

"I'm not insinuating anything!" Natsuo interrupted, the tension in the air thickening. "I'm saying it outright. There's more to this, and you damn well know it."

"Tsk," Shoto shook his head, his voice dripping with disdain. "Better shut your mouth, dear brother. You're talking nonsense."

Your entire body trembled, barely registering the words exchanged between the two brothers.

"I'm so sorry for your loss," Hawks said with a slight bow to Natsuo and then Endeavor. "Touya was..."

"Don't you dare to talk about my brother!" Natsuo erupted, hurling a cup at the warrior. "Don't you dare to use his name, you filthy, venal bastard."

"Enough!" Endeavor roared, a silent tear tracing a path down his scarred cheek.

"Oh, I couldn't agree more with you, dear father," Shoto sent Endeavor a sly grin, and then bellowed, "Guards!"

Warriors entered the Great Hall, awaiting the young prince's orders.

"Take my father out and put him in that unoccupied hut at the bay. Make sure to tie him up well, even though he's old, the bastard's still strong."

"What!" Natsuo growled.

Endeavor looked down at his son. "What are you trying to do, Shoto? You can't just..."

At that moment, Shoto aimed a hard slap at his father's cheek. "Say one more thing, father, and I'll cut your throat here and now. You're not an earl anymore. You're nothing. You always were nothing. Give me your axe."

Endeavor remained motionless, his gaze shifting briefly between Natsuo and you.

"Your damn axe and crown!" Shoto's voice rose, demanding compliance, his hands reaching toward his father.

Reluctantly, the old earl reached to his belt, extracting the axe from a leather scabbard. He passed the item to Shoto, removing the crown from his head with a heavy sigh.

The young prince took the axe and the crown from his father, wielding the symbol of authority with contempt. With a sudden, violent motion, he smashed the crown against the nearest wall, watching it shatter into irreparable pieces.

"You're making a grave mistake, Shoto," Endeavor warned.

Shoto grinned back at his father, a sinister edge to his smile. "Oh, old man, there's no Touya to stand by your side anymore. Your beloved firstborn, the one you happily discarded and tried to kill when he was an infant, is truly gone now. You have no one to protect you. Your guards are listening to me, they've been for a while already. And Natsuo," Shoto looked at the white-haired man standing near you, "He's nothing, he doesn't even know how to wield a shield."

Hawks chuckled darkly, nodding at his people. A few warriors approached the earl, tying his hands behind his back. One of them delivered a strong blow to the earl's face.

"No!" Natsuo screamed.

You sobbed loudly, watching the horrifying scene unfold. The question lingered in your mind: why didn't Endeavor react at all?

The crisp air carried the call of Hawks and a group of warriors as they traversed through the settlement. The sound of their voices resonated, commanding the attention of all citizens, beckoning them to gather by the bay.

Meanwhile, in the desolate confines of an abandoned hut, Endeavor was bound to a wooden balk, his mind enveloped in bitter reflection. The flickering light filtering through the cracks in the worn walls revealed a man scarred, not only physically but also by the torment delivered upon him by Hawks and his people.

As he strained against his restraints, Endeavor couldn't escape the echoing regrets that reverberated within his thoughts. He cursed himself for the blindness that had shrouded his vision, the inability to see the rot that festered within Shoto. The weight of realization pressed heavily upon him, and he was left to grapple with the consequences of his own choices.

Silently, you sneaked into the dimly lit hut, the chalice of water and a soft rug clutched in your hands. The feeble light revealed the cruel aftermath of the torment inflicted upon Endeavor, and a gasp escaped your lips at the sight of his battered form.

Approaching cautiously, you set the chalice down and carefully unfolded the rug. Kneeling beside him, you dipped a corner of the cloth into the water, your movements gentle as you began to clean the wounds on his face. The atmosphere hung heavy with tension, punctuated only by the distant calls from the bay.

His eyes, filled with a mix of pain and resignation, met yours as you worked.

"What are we supposed to do now?" you asked with a shaking tone, your voice barely above a whisper.

Endeavor's gaze bore into yours, and for a moment, the weight of uncertainty hung in the air. "Shoto won't stop until he has complete control,” he replied, his voice strained. “I’m afraid there’s nothing that can be done.”

Tears welled up in your eyes as you whispered, "I can't believe Touya..." Your hand trembled, and the pain in your voice echoed through the dimly lit hut.

A solitary tear rolled down Endeavor's scarred cheek as he uttered words heavy with resignation. "You should flee from here before I'm executed, Y/N."

Dread seized your body, and you protested, "Don't say that, my lord. I'm sure Shoto is not that crazy to get you killed… And I have nowhere to go.”

Endeavor's gaze met yours, and in that moment, he decided to reveal the truth about what he had noticed in his youngest son's eyes. "I saw it, in Shoto's eyes. The thirst for power, the willingness to do whatever it takes. He's not the boy I raised. He's become something darker, something I failed to see until it was too late."

Your heart sank at Endeavor's revelation, the truth piercing through the air like a chilling wind. The realization that Shoto had transformed into something unrecognizable, something darker, gripped you with a sense of helplessness.

"I should have seen it sooner," Endeavor muttered, his voice filled with regret. "But blinded by my own desires for power, I failed to grasp the truth until it was too late. I won’t forgive myself… I should’ve listened to Touya."

The gravity of the situation pressed upon you, and you wiped away the tears that stained your cheeks. "We can't let him continue down this path," you whispered, your voice laced with determination.

Endeavor nodded solemnly. "You must go. Flee from this place before it's too late. I will face the consequences of my actions, but you have a chance for a different fate."

The distant sound of footsteps approached the hut, signaling the arrival of Shoto's guards.

In that moment, you wrapped your arms around Endeavor's neck, giving him a tight hug, a silent gesture of reassurance and determination. "I promise, my lord, that I'll avenge Touya. I don't believe Shoto didn't have a hand in it anymore," you whispered, the words laden with both sorrow.

"I'm afraid you're right," Endeavor admitted, his own acceptance of the harsh reality permeating the air. “Go now, girl.”

With a heavy heart, you took the chalice and the rug, casting one last glance at Endeavor, who remained bound and alone in the desolate hut. The weight of the situation pressed upon you as you stepped out into the cold air, leaving the confines of the dimly lit space.

The evening air hung heavy with tension as the citizens of the settlement gathered at the bay.

Hawks, with a certain casual indifference, lazily cleaned his dagger, his guards vigilant in ensuring that no one was left behind.

You and Natsuo stood among the gathered crowd, your eyes nervously flitting between the citizens and Natsuo.

The atmosphere thickened as two guards brought the bound form of Endeavor to the jetty, his presence eliciting hushed whispers among the onlookers.

And then, like a harbinger of darkness, Shoto emerged. A grotesque crown made of bird skulls adorned his head, and an opulent fur of a snow leopard draped over his shoulders, a trophy from one of Endeavor's raids. The blood and white paint smeared across his face formed viking symbols, marking him as the harbinger of a new era.

A profound silence fell over the assembly as Shoto made his way to the forefront. The people, recognizing the symbolic weight of his appearance, knew that there was no room left for argument or dissent. The young prince had become an embodiment of authority, clad in the spoils of his conquests, and the settlement braced itself for the changes that his rule would bring.

Shoto made his way to the jetty with deliberate steps, his eyes scanning the gathered crowd. They found yours in the sea of faces, and for a brief moment, his gaze lingered on your tear-stained visage. The weight of his stare bore into your soul before he redirected his focus to the bound figure of his father, kneeling on the jetty.

The hushed whispers of the crowd ceased as Shoto raised his hand, a signal for silence. His voice cut through the still air, carrying a mix of authority and cold detachment. "Citizens of Skjaldvargr," he began, his tone echoing over the water, "The time of reckoning has come. For too long, we have been shackled by the failures of our past. The time for a new era, a stronger era, has dawned."

His eyes scanned the faces of the assembly, pausing on his father for a moment before addressing the crowd once more. Shoto moved deliberately towards the jetty, each step echoing with a proclamation of his newfound authority. As his gaze scanned the gathered crowd, it found yours among the sea of faces. His eyes locked onto your tear-stained visage, lingering for a moment longer than necessary, a cold acknowledgment of the impact his actions had on you, before he shifted his focus to his father, who knelt there, bound and vulnerable.

The silence that enveloped the bay was broken by Shoto's commanding voice, carrying the weight of his judgment. "Citizens of Skjaldvargr," he began, his tone unwavering. "The time of reckoning has come. For too long, we have been shackled by the failures of our past. The time for a new era, a stronger era, has dawned."

He gestured towards Endeavor, his father, with an air of finality. "Endeavor, once known as the earl, has failed to lead us into greatness. He allowed weakness and sentiment to cloud his judgment. It is time for a new leader, one who will guide us to prosperity."

Shoto's eyes flickered back to yours for a brief moment, a chilling gaze that hinted at the personal nature of his vendetta. "The former earl will face justice for his shortcomings. The verdict is the death penalty. Let this serve as a reminder that only strength will prevail in the harsh realities of our world."

The pronouncement echoed over the bay, sealing the fate of Endeavor and setting in motion the irreversible changes that Shoto, now adorned with the symbols of his triumph, would bring to the settlement.

The verdict hung in the air, heavy and final, as Shoto turned away, leaving the jetty and the kneeling figure of his father behind to take a seat on a throne that was prepared for him nearby.

The weight of Shoto's harsh verdict hung in the air like a shroud, and as the crowd absorbed the reality of the situation, hot tears streamed down your face. Instinctively, you grasped Natsuo's palm, seeking solace and support in the face of the unfolding tragedy.

The bay was cloaked in a heavy silence as the guards began the degrading process of undressing Endeavor's upper body. His once proud and scarred form was exposed to the harsh scrutiny of the onlookers, the symbols of his past glories now overshadowed by the weight of his transgressions.

The guards, expressionless and cold, tied Endeavor's hands spread to two sturdy stanchions positioned in the center of the jetty. The former earl knelt there, vulnerable and exposed, his fate hanging in the balance.

As the unsettling tableau unfolded, Hawks stepped forward, a grim determination etched on his face. Clutching his axe and dagger, he circled Endeavor with predatory precision. The rhythmic sound of his boots on the wooden planks echoed through the bay, creating an eerie cadence that intensified the chilling atmosphere.

Positioning himself behind Endeavor, Hawks loomed like a shadow, a silent harbinger of the impending judgment. The air crackled with tension, and the onlookers, unable to tear their eyes away, awaited the next grim chapter in the unfolding saga of Skjaldvargr.

Hawks nodded at his people, and they made Endeavor lean forward by pulling on the ropes tied to the earl’s wrists.

Hawks, grinning widely like a madman, started by making a deep, vertical incision along the earl's spine. This incision severed the skin, muscle, and connective tissues, exposing the underlying bones and organs.

Endeavor, bound and exposed to the merciless fate of the Blood Eagle, fought vehemently against the primal urge to scream. His muscles tensed, and every fiber of his being rebelled against the excruciating pain inflicted upon him. The raspy growls emanating from his throat served as a testament to his struggle, a warrior's battle cry against the agony that threatened to consume him.

In the midst of this macabre spectacle, Endeavor clung to the ancient belief that only by maintaining composure during such a brutal punishment could a warrior secure passage to Valhalla. His jaw clenched, and his eyes, filled with a mixture of pain and defiance, bore witness to the unfathomable ordeal, as tears rolled down his cheeks.

As the executioner continued the harrowing process, Endeavor's resolve was tested in the crucible of suffering. The groans that escaped him carried not only the weight of agony but also a silent determination to prove his mettle in the face of an unimaginable horror.

Your tears flowed unabated, soaking into the fabric of Natsuo's shirt as you sobbed, the weight of grief and horror pressing heavily on your heart.

Natsuo, too, couldn't contain the surge of emotions that gripped him, and tears welled up in his eyes, silently streaming down his cheeks.

The two of you, connected by shared sorrow, clung to one another in a world suddenly bereft of hope.

Despite the absence of a genuine father-son bond with his own father, Natsuo understood the pain of loss, and his tears mirrored your own. "Father," the man whispered, barely moving his lips. "May Odin guide your spirit to the hallowed halls of Valhalla..."

With the earl's spine exposed, Takami proceeded to cut through the ribs, detaching them from the spine. This macabre act created the framework for what resembled "wings." Hawks then reached into Endeavor's chest cavity, pulling out the man's lungs through the opening created by the removal of the ribs. This grotesque act gave the victim the appearance of wings, completing the horrifying visual metaphor.

Hawks stood amidst the aftermath, his once-vibrant attire now drenched in the deep crimson hue of blood. From his tousled hair down to his boots, every inch of him was painted in the somber shades of scarlet, a testament to the brutal task he had undertaken.

The metallic scent of iron lingered in the air around him, an olfactory testament to the visceral reality of the harrowing act.

Hawks, his visage marred by the grotesque tableau before him, grinned like a man possessed, a maniacal glint in his eyes. His gaze, like a predator reveling in the aftermath of a successful hunt, fixated on Shoto, the new earl, who observed the scene with an unsettling amusement.

In his final moments, Endeavor, the once-mighty earl, summoned the strength to lift his head, a haunting defiance in his gaze. As the life ebbed away from him, he whispered words of reunion to a love lost in the annals of time. "Rei... Love.... I'm coming to you..." With those parting breaths, his head succumbed to the inevitable, lolling to the side.

Amidst the horror, you struggled to contain the surge of emotions, your tears choking your throat as you witnessed the cruel end meted out to the man who was once a father figure.

Shoto, now the legal earl, approached the lifeless form, a twisted rite of passage in the unforgiving realm. Sizing up the head of his father, he coldly declared, "The earl is dead!"

As Hawks chanted, "Long live the earl!" with an eerie enthusiasm, the guards compelled the onlookers to repeat the grim proclamation, the echoes of submission punctuating the air heavy with the scent of iron and death.

The settlement, now under the shadow of a new ruler, braced itself for the changes that were bound to come.

Shoto's subtle gesture summoned Hawks closer, their exchange shrouded in whispered words.

As the blonde-haired man stepped back, he bellowed your name, a chilling summons that cut through the heavy air, freezing the blood in your veins. “Y/N!”

Natsuo, understanding the impending darkness, tightened his grip on your hand, silently pleading for you to resist the ominous call. His subtle head shake conveyed the urgency to stay away, to avoid the perilous path that beckoned. But the relentless echo of your name persisted, a haunting melody drawing you towards an inevitable confrontation.

With tear-streaked cheeks, you met Natsuo's gaze once more, finding solace in his silent plea. Gathering what remained of your resolve, you wiped away the evidence of your anguish and, with a determined stride, pushed through the crowd. The last thing you needed was the cold, unyielding grasp of guards dragging you to Shoto against your will.

As you approached Shoto, the air became charged with an eerie tension. His eyes, adorned with a sinister gleam, followed your every step.

The crowd, still subdued by the recent events, parted to make way for your reluctant journey.

Hawks, positioned next to Shoto, continued to observe with a sinister grin, aware that the unfolding scene held a profound significance in the new earl's machinations.

Shoto, crowned with skulls and adorned in the spoils of victory, waited for you with a calculated calmness.

You stood before Shoto, a pawn caught in the web of a power play.

With a wicked smile, Shoto leaned in, whispering words that clawed at the edges of your sanity. "Y/N, it seems your fate is entwined with ours now. You will play a crucial role in the future of Skjaldvargr."

Your frown deepened as you couldn't comprehend the unsettling thoughts swirling in Shoto's mind. With a hint of trepidation, you dared to voice the question that lingered on your lips, "What do you have in mind?"

Shoto, feigning sweetness, leaned in with a twisted smile. "Now that Touya is no more, it falls upon me to decide your fate, Y/N. A bereft girl, left in the aftermath of such a tragedy. But fear not, for I have plans for you."

Terror gripped your heart as Shoto unveiled his intentions. "From this moment forth, you'll no longer revel in the freedom bestowed upon you by my deceased brother. Instead, you shall become my concubine, and I expect you to bear me an heir."

A quiet but resolute "No" escaped your lips as you resisted the notion, unwilling to surrender your autonomy.

Shoto, undeterred, grasped your chin, pulling you closer. "Don't resist, dollface. Make a scene, and I'll orchestrate another blood eagle tonight. If you refuse, Hawks will have the honor of ending Natsuo's life, the last person standing by your side."

His words echoed with a cruel certainty, leaving you with a chilling realization that your fate was no longer your own. A solitary tear traced a path down your cheek, a silent testament to the anguish that gripped your soul.

Shoto, reveling in the display of vulnerability, leaned forward, capturing the tear with the tip of his tongue. He licked it off, savoring the taste of your despair before whispering into your ear. "If I were you, I'd be obedient. There's no one left to protect you, and you're going to be mine, whether you want it or not."

"Why me?" you dared to question, your voice carrying a defiant edge.

Shoto's grin widened. "I've had my share of Viking women. A Christian girl, even a prudish one, is said to be particularly naughty in the alcove." The lecherous implications of his words hung heavily in the air, accentuating the grim reality that now lay before you.

Your stomach twisted in knots as Shoto's words reverberated in the air.

"Y/N, from now on, is considered my concubine," Shoto declared with a tone that brooked no argument. "Anyone going against me or her will face the doom immediately. And one last thing, all the warriors who supported my father shall be executed by dawn. Consider this night your last with your families. Satisfy yourselves with your women and put your kids to sleep for the final time. Don't even think about running away, as my envoys will find you wherever you hide."

He took your palm in his, a cruel possession that marked the beginning of your tragic fate. Before you left, Shoto's gaze shifted to Hawks. "Make sure Natsuo is locked in his room in the Great Hall. Tomorrow, I'll decide his fate."

"Of course, my lord," Hawks nodded obediently, the cold determination in his eyes betraying the allegiance he now held to Shoto.

As the thralls followed Shoto's orders, you found yourself in a bath, the warm water doing little to comfort your tormented soul. You let your tears fall freely, their silent streams mingling with the water around you. The echoes of your life's upheavals played in your mind like a haunting melody, each note a reminder of the tragedy that seemed to follow you relentlessly. How swiftly your life had changed, once under the control of Touya's unpredictable whims, and now, bound by Shoto's ruthless will.

You longed to scream, to cry out against the unfairness of it all. Shoto, a young man scarcely older than you, had become the architect of your misery. You despised him, and yet, the thought of begging for mercy from this vicious ruler crossed your mind. The temptation to ask him to end your misery with the swift swing of his axe haunted your thoughts.

However, a greater fear gripped your heart — the threat to Natsuo. Shoto's warning echoed in your mind, and you couldn't bear the thought of allowing harm to befall the one person who had consistently shown you kindness and support. You resolved to endure, to strategize, to find a way to protect Natsuo from the impending darkness that Shoto had cast upon your life.

After the bath, you were presented with the finest nightgown, a garment crafted from snow-white silk that draped elegantly around you. The thralls, with delicate hands, brushed and arranged your hair as you sat in front of a mirror, contemplating your reflection. The mirror seemed to reflect not just your physical appearance but also the weight of the burden now resting on your shoulders.

Assisted by the thralls and guided by the guards, you were led to the chamber that once belonged to earl Endeavor. As the thick doors swung open, the opulence of the room overwhelmed your senses. The chamber was vast, with a massive fireplace positioned on the opposite wall, providing warmth and a flickering dance of flames.

To the left of the entrance stood a colossal bed, adorned with a thick mattress and furs, supported by two sturdy columns at its head. The bed itself was a work of art, crafted from field maple. On the opposite side of the room, a table with two chairs and a closet adorned with a mirror completed the ensemble of wealth and luxury. It was a stark contrast to the grim fate that had befallen the former occupant of this room.

As you took in the grandeur, a mix of emotions churned within you. The softness of the silk against your skin felt incongruent with the turmoil within your heart. The room, once a sanctuary for a now-fallen ruler, now served as a gilded cage for you, ensnared by circumstances beyond your control.

It took a moment before you realized that the door had closed behind you, leaving you alone in the opulent chamber — or so you thought.

A smooth voice, belonging to the new earl, reached your ears as Shoto gracefully rose from a chair situated in the dimly lit corner of the room. He appeared to be occupied with polishing his axe. "Finally, I was growing impatient," he remarked, his voice devoid of any warmth or sympathy.

"Forgive me, my lord," the title felt foreign on your tongue as you addressed the man who now held power over your fate. The room, once a symbol of authority and now tainted by the dark events that had transpired, became the stage for a twisted power play that you found yourself unwillingly participating in.

Shoto placed the axe on the table and leisurely approached you, gently lifting your chin to meet his dual-colored eyes. "Don't be afraid, dollface. I'm not going to hurt you."

"You already did," you replied with defiance. "I know it was not an accident."

"You mean Touya? Oh, my little raven," he cooed, "of course it was an accident. Do you really think I'd let my beloved brother die?"

You snorted, and a tear rolled down your cheek.

"Shush, shush, no crying in here. You're too beautiful for sadness," he said, wiping your tear away with his thumb. "You'll have the life you deserved and which my poor older brother couldn't provide you with."

"He wouldn't lock me in a cage," you told him, and Shoto chuckled.

"A cage? Oh no, sweetheart, I'm not going to lock you in a cage. You're my concubine now, and a lot of privileges come with this title." His words dripped with a perverse sense of entitlement, sending a shiver down your spine as you realized the dark reality that awaited you in the clutches of the new earl.

Shoto gently traces his fingertips against your lips and neck, slowly moving them down your décolletage. Shoto circled you slowly, his movements reminiscent of a predator closing in on its prey. "I just expect you to be faithful to me, that's all I'm asking for. I want you to be a representative figure, shining like a gem by my side. And I want you to bear me a child, an outright heir of pure blood," he declared.

"But my blood isn't pure. I'm not a pagan like you. Won't it make your child unworthy?" you growled, attempting to sway his unsettling conviction. However, your efforts seemed in vain as his long, thin fingers slipped under the fabric of your nightgown on your shoulders, slowly sliding the attire off.

"Don't worry your pretty little head. Before you give birth, you're going to be a Viking woman. I'll make sure of that," he said, licking his lips as he watched the thin material falling slowly to the floor.

In your initial instinct, you attempted to cover yourself with your hands. However, Shoto effortlessly seized both your wrists in one hand, securing them behind your back. Resting his chin on your shoulder, he used his spare hand to move a lock of your Y/H/C hair off your shoulder. "Don't. I want to see all of you. You were more willing to undress for my older brother. I still don't know why. Did he force you into his bed? No normal woman ever would, so he was fortunate to experience the mellowness of a woman's body before he died. His life was nothing but a failure."

That was enough. Provoked by Shoto's words laced with sarcasm, you swiftly turned and slapped his scarred cheek with all your might, pulling your hands free from his grasp. "Don't you dare," you warned. "For what you did, you will never reach your beloved Valhalla. Even your gods don't accept vile men into their chambers."

Seemingly anticipating this move, the man firmly grasped you by the throat and effortlessly threw you onto the bed. Before you could react, his weight pinned you down on the mattress. "You're so brisk and valorous; I like that," he grunted, pushing his knee between your legs, parting your thighs enough for him to settle between them. "Haven't you learned yet? You're with me or against me. And trust me, I couldn't care less about your pathetic life. So, it's better to act like a good, obedient girl for your lord."

That night unfolded in a torrent of pain, tears, and degradation. Despite your attempts to resist, to twist and turn, they proved futile. Shoto pursued his desires, stripping away your innocence. His touch, both cruel and frigid, felt akin to a scalding iron on your skin - a stark contrast from what Touya had once offered.

As Shoto slumbered peacefully at your side, content and spent from the unrelenting hours of asserting his dominance over your body, you lay by him, curled into a small, trembling ball. Silent tears traced pathways across your face, and with every slightest movement, you would gag yourself, feeling the haunting presence of his seed seeping out of you. A genuine desire for death welled within your soul.

"Forgive me, Touya... Forgive me," you whispered, your plea hanging in the heavy air before exhaustion enveloped you, guiding you into an uneasy slumber.

heathen wolves: @queenkhepri @indignant-alpaca @misafiryanki @roast-toast @within-eyesight @crystalwolfblog @haseki-huricihan @violet-forgetmenot @dagger-dragger @smartspot @alientobe @zero-sugar-null @peter-sommer @thedancingparrot @dearsunaa @greaterheart

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todorokis-girl · 6 months ago

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I Never Knew You Were Alive - Soulmate AU (II)

Touya x f!reader

I do apologize, I have a certain love for the mundane, and I like to expand on boring things before I get to the "meat" of the story. This one has nothing but mundane.

If anyone has any suggestions, I am open to hearing them. I have a rough plot, but like I said, I get side tracked with exploring random things, my pacing can be kind of slow. I do filler chapters when I feel like writing but I haven't finished the main chapter yet.

Also, if you want to get tagged in the next one, please let me know.

No actual dabi in this one

Chapter I: So it starts Chapter II: A late arrival Chapter III: belive of be doomed Chapter IV: What are we doing? Chapter V: Last minute encounter Chapter VI: Deciding to fall in love with you

masterlist

Previous chapter

Next chapter

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Chapter II: A late Arrival

As the sun rose over the horizon, painting the sky in hues of pink and gold, a new day dawned at The Hero Academy. Excitement buzzed through the corridors, echoing the eager chatter of students and the hushed whispers of anticipation, at what this new semester would bring them.

Amidst the throng of pupils eagerly making their way to class, one figure stood out—a newcomer, her footsteps quickened by nerves and determination. Unbeknownst to the students, she was already late, the weight of unfamiliar hallways slowing her progress as she navigated the maze of the school seemingly for the first time, even though she had been there before, as a student herself. With each passing minute, her heart raced, a slow, calming breath exhaled though her nostrils, the anxiety of tardiness threatening to overshadow the promise of a fresh start; and as she finally stepped through the classroom door, a momentary pause hung in the air, hinting at the unexpected journey that lay ahead.

She was unlucky Aizawa had told her to simply step into the classroom the moment she arrived, he had start of the semester paperwork to get done, he could leave them alone for a couple of minutes to wait for her. New people scared her, and children made her anxious. Why did she think she could do this job again? Keigo had a point telling her to reject the job.

She placed her things quickly behind the podium, and grabbed a piece of white chalk from a box of them that already lived there. She was gonna do the classic cliche of writing her name on the board; but what was she to do, she was anxious and still terrified to attempt to look at the students. Taking a second to adjust to the admosphre, and get their attention withought looking at them seemed the most apropriate.

She hadn't meant to be late, she woke up this morning at the UA dorms like she was supposed to, with plenty of time to spare, she was even having a lovely talk with her new co-worker about how to approach the students of class 1A; but there had been a sudden emergency at the agency and Endeavor was already split with work. As talented and powerful as he is, he can't be in two opposing places at once; and she was still the second to call there.

The coffee was sweet, with an adequate amount of creamer, it tasted... perfect nutty with a creamy texture "This is delicious," My eyes brighten intensely making direct eye contact with Aizawa, Sh was truly not expecting it to be so good "thank you for the coffee" I'm never going to a coffee shop again.

He ignored her and started talking about his students, giving careful insight into the ones he considered harder to handle "Bakugou can be a little rough, he might sound aggressive, but he's truly just a dedicated person" She nodded signaling that she was listening, but never forgetting her coffee.

As calming as the morning might seem from an outside perspective, she wasn't feeling calm at all, and she didn't know why. She woke up with waves of anxiety washing over her, and as the hours passed, anxiety turned to determination and slowly... a weird mixture between happiness, satisfaction and sadness. Where it al came from she didn't really know. What she did know is that she was thankful Eraserhead had taken time out of his morning to help her out not just with advice, but with company, allowing her to control the conflicting shift of emotions. Even if she didn’t really know where they came from.

She was about to open her mouth, to ask a question about the best way to structure lessons for them, to add to the previous insight she was given, but she was stopped by the loud ring of her phone, the ringtone she had for any calls coming from the agency.

She quickly picked up the phone, excusing herself from her co-worker "This better be important, Heatstroke" She took one sip of her coffee as she heard the intense response, "Endeavor is busy in a meeting with the commissioner, emergency fire at a building, too hot for any of us to walk into....it's the bluefire quirk" immediately putting the mug down (regretfully), she hung the phone and got ready to leave

Before she could she quickly turned to Aizawa, before leaving "I might be a little late... any chance you'll keep the students entertained until I get back?" A hopeful expression covering her face.

"Just walk in, they won't burn the classroom down, or I'll make them suffer; a couple of minutes won't hurt" I laughed running out the door, his reply calmingly amusing and grateful my hero suit was my uniform.

She took one final deep breath when her name was finally written on the board, time to turn around...

She cleared her throat attempting to get the attention of the members of the class, not noticing that she already had it "Good morning students, sorry for the wait," she greeted them with her usual bright smile, hero work had it's perks outside of using your quirk freely; it provided professional level acting experience "I'm the temperature hero, Thermiforst, and I will be your teacher for the new class 'Alternative Strategies' it's a pleasure to meet you all"

.......

"You did good, the students seem to like you" She looked up from her paperwork to make eye contact with Aizawa, making her relax just a little bit. She had been overthinking all day about the impression she had made of the students of both class A and B.

"Thank you, it was all thanks to you really, "controlled curiosity"? Was not expecting that to work" He sat down a cup of lavender tea (the smell was quickly feeling her nostrils, she didn't even need to get close to the cup to identify the type) next to the paperwork she was working on, following it up with a plump and juicy looking peach. She smiled and looked up at him carefully, with a soft smile, she felt so welcomed "Thank you". He simply waved her off over his shoulders as he walked away to his own desk.

Going back to your old school always sounds like such a lame thing to do. Sort of like reminding yourself of all the times graduated students would come back to the school to visit to seem cool, and it just ended up seeming stupid; it's different when you're coming back to teach, but it still gives a bad feeling at first.

Also, the whole thing with Hawks the week before had undeniably rattled her, at first she was just mad that he was implying that she couldn't take care of herself as well as the students, but now, with fresh eyes and a new perspective of the situation... she was just worried. Hawks was over protective of her, so was everyone else around her, but this was unusual, he'd never question her heroism, or her ability to take care of herself. He knew more than he was saying, and if she knew anything about Keigo and his background, the hero comission was one-thousand percent behind all of this, and that scared her; it appeared he was in a lot more danger than she could possibly be.

The league of villains. She could see how the comission could care about them, currently they are a danger to not just society but the hero community, and there was no chance, the hero comission was simply going to let that go...

Kaigo... what the hell did you get yourself into...

Her thoughts running so high she once again started to feel a slight bothersome in her soulmate mark, it always demanded attention when she seemed to be running high on emotions. She always thought, it was simply her body asking for her soulmate for comfort, but she didn't have the ability to do that; and she hated the constant reminder.

ding

She got snapped out of her thoughts and her eyes went to her phone freshly lit up screen. A fresh message from Keigo. Speak of the devil.

'How was the first day with the brats?' She looked over at the time realizing that she was due to clock out, and started packing up her things before she took the time to answer the message. Quietly thanking him for reminding her she did't have to sit there indefinitely.

She placed the straps over her shoulder, the weight of the one strap she used causing her to lean slightly to the side. She took the clip off and dropped it on her desk, if she forgot to take it off, she would have nothing to hold her hair up with it.

She finally took her phone to finally reply to her messages; as she did she remembered the blue flames from earlier in the morning, and how for some reason they had caused a sense of familiarity and a deep longing.

She was used to walking on fires, and extremely cold temperatures; nothing to worry about. What she was worried about what the fire felt like, on her skin, it felt like she could stand there for hours and feel at peace. She felt comfort. She'd have to look into it later.

'It was really fun, don't call them brats, they're really sweet kids'

'yeah yeah, whatever. I'll see you this weekend for coffee as usual, right?'

'of course loser, stay alive till then, ok?'

'Sure, See you Tomorrow at the usual place"

'see you tomorrow’

Weeks later

In the hushed confines of the darkened living room, a rhythmic tapping sound reverberated as the back of laptop was lifted the back of her laptop, her fingers clutching the sleek device with a hint of tension. Her gaze remained fixed, unwavering, on the solitary blue radiance emanating from the unassuming coffee machine stationed on the kitchen counter. Yet, amidst the ambient glow, her vision faltered, blurred by the shimmer of tears that veiled her eyes, from her perspective, casting twin reflections of the light. As they spilled over, tracing a silent journey down her cheek, the world seemed to blur into a poignant symphony of emotion.

She had a feeling that something was off, her soulmate's name on the inside of her arm burned, it burned so much it made her resolve falter. She went into the blue flames enveloping the building, with the intention of finding survivors, she was the only one who could walk into them; and Endeavor had been in the middle of a reunion with the commissioner when everything started.

The feeling of the fire on her skin felt... calming, almost comforting, and it shook her to her core but she ignored it and pushed herself to walk to save people. Through out the entire event, the more she stood in the flame, the more her soulmate mark screamed. Once the job was done, and the reports are written she gave herself the time to look over the person behind the fire.

Dabi, member of the League of Villains, quirk? Bluefire. Similar to Endeavor's.. but hotter, much hotter, so much hotter it seems, that it slowly burns away his own body from the inside out. No one knows where he came from, who he is or even what his name is; all we know is that he's... Dabi.

The current knowledge was making her overthink, what she was thinking was insane, absolutely fucking crazy. yet, if it was true... it wouldn't be hard to believe. Sure, Endeavor helped her out, basically raised her and allowed her to use the family name after her own parents ditched her... but she wasn't delusional. Enji Todoroki wasn't a saint, and she knew it. The state of the family was definitely a tall tell sign of that.

You're crazy, years without a soulmate has made you delusional.

But, the feelings, the soulmate marks, the quirk similarities with Endeavor, the seeming obsession with Shouto and Endeavor....

She had to find him, he was out there and she had to find him. She was going to ask him, and she'd let him go, just this once... for his troubles, just in case she was wrong. She needed to tell him, even if she had no response from him. Because if she was right, he already knew who she was, and that killed her.

She quickly snapped herself out of her trance, and looked around the even darker room, random scattered lights all around from multiple appliances; she took a deep breath to snap herself out of the heartbreak she had caused herself and opened her laptop again; quickly accessing Endeavors agency database and into her profile, placing a pin on the villain and setting notifications to be sent to her phone.

With the process over, she looked around her inmediate area, attempting to find her phone. She hadn't had any confirmation in the next few weeks, but she was sure of who could give her the information she wanted, and he was going to help her.

She scrolled through her phone's contacts looking for his name, once she spotted it, she quickly proceeded to click on his name and placing the phone in her ear.

Ring

Ri-

"Hey Birdie, it's kind of late for a call, you ok?" His voice was gentle, you could hear the clear worry.

She looked up to the clearly visible time in her microwave '3:00 am', she swallowed guiltily, she hadn't even noticed; but she wasn't gonna wait anymore.

"Hey Keigo, I need something from you"

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nocturnesmoon · 10 months ago

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I had a dream about this and thought you'd like it 😭 It basically boils down into your current vampire!reader fics but instead of a vampire, reader was like. this spider hybrid thing?? I was v confused 🫡

-😎

Eight legged dreams

Monster AU Masterlist: TF141 x Spider-Hybrid!GN!Reader A/N: I really wanna know what kinda weird dreams you be having 😭 I don't know what the spider hybrid looked like in your dream, but I think I'd be terrified, anyways this is a bit short but enjoy.

-The 141 gets a new, unexpected addition to the team-

Nobody is really surprised to find that people would end up experimenting with the concept of monsters. Ever since they recruited a few in the military, leash on tight, it was only a matter of time before some twisted minds picked up on the idea of creating monsters on their own.

The existence of mythical creatures has long been proven, though a lot are concealed and extinct, what if it would be possible to resurrect them, or create entirely new ones? The thought was quickly experimented with, the study of how monsters formed, made way for the ideas of monster hybrids that didn't exist naturally.

When the 141 was first assigned such a hybrid, they were sceptical. Promptly they thought they didn't need one, they did excellent work without the external help, but it quickly became a matter of not having a choice.

It didn't matter to the higher ups whether they used this hybrid on missions or not, the 141 was to record the movements of this hybrid, and at the end of the experiment they would each give an individual report of the experience.

If the hybrid became violent or disobedient, each one of them had full authority to eliminate them.

Simple right?

That's what they had all thought before they found out what a menace it could be. They had expected something simple, a wolf hybrid, or a reptile hybrid like they had heard about, but no what they got was arguably worse.

From the moment you stepped off the truck that brought you to them, they knew something was off. Sure, they hadn't been told what kind of hybrid you were, but this was unexpected even with that in mind.

Your entire physique didn't carry the same as a human would, fat, skin and muscle distribution was completely wrong compared to that of a normal human. You were adorned by another set of eyes right under your natural ones, just as well you had 2 extra sets of arms. It looked wrong on you, like you came from some eldritch abomination. They even wondered if it might hurt to have a form like that, but you seemed relaxed as can be.

Your form started to make a lot more sense when Price finally got his hands on your files, and care instructions. He wanted to chew your handlers out for not giving him the instructions sooner, but they left in a hurry like state, all too eager to get rid of you.

Apparently, you were a type of spider hybrid. It wasn't totally certain what your abilities were, there wasn't a whole lot of guidance from your previous handlers, and it only left Price all the more nervous.

Despite their apprehension about you, you were nice and accommodative. You listened to their orders and request and at first glance you seemed normal, not taking into account of how different you looked.

It didn't take long before they started finding out about your various quirks, showing more and more of yourself very quickly. You seemed to get attached to them a lot faster than they got warmed up to you.

Gaz was the first one to figure out that you had the ability to climb any surface and stick to it. It didn't really come as a surprise once he really thought about it, but the jump scare he got from it is one he isn't likely to forget.

He was just about to go to bed, changed into pyjamas and everything, lights turned off. Just as he was about to get under the covers he sees a glint in the corner of his bedroom ceiling, he slowly goes closer, finding it hard to see when his eyes aren't adjusted to the darkness. The second you get into view, his eyes widen a fraction, the real jump scare coming when you with a very menacing voice say, "Hello Kyle," he screams for you to get out, which you do with a pout. Days later he still doesn't know how you learned his real name, seemingly no one told you, you just found out.

Another thing they figured out quickly was your eating habits, they found you to be very picky about what you ingested. Most of the time you only ate meat in small quantities, and you always seemed to hoard it in your room, wrapped up in tiny cocoons for safe keeping. Seemingly you refused to eat anything other than meat, but despite being picky you were open to try a lot of things, normally ending up hating it, but you tried it.

It started to result in you biting everything, no matter what it would be. Sometimes it seemed like you didn't fully understand what was edible and what was not. Their biggest shock came from you starting to nibble on them. It became a fixation of yours, and despite them always swatting you away, you kept going at it. Price has too many bite marks shaped perfectly from your teeth.

Soap was sceptic about your appearance first, intrigued but sceptic. He quickly warmed up to it, however, when he realized how useful it could be to have 6 arms, or useful to him that you had them. He started using you as a sort of coat rack, getting you to hold things for him while he's working. If he was practising his skills at disarming a bomb, he'd get you to hold his tools, if he was writing reports, he'd get you to hold the next ones ready, so it all went smoother. He even got you to hold his art supplies for him whenever he wanted to draw in his downtime.

You didn't really mind it, wanting to follow him around anyway, and this way you would be useful to him. You even learnt a few things watching him work, and watching him paint was oddly relaxing. He didn't even mind when you asked him to explain what he was doing, he could get very passionate once you got him started.

Price and Ghost were more interested in your abilities in the field. You were fast, agile, and dexterous, with a patience that's unmatched. You even beat Ghost when it came to sitting still, he held the record to be the best sniper on the team, having the patience of a mountain, yet when it was put to the test, you managed to beat his time by a lot.

Price always keeps a close eye on you, not wanting to admit that he's slightly afraid of you. Even though over time they've got it documented what your abilities included, you keep surprising them. He once saw you playing with a cat, seemingly having a lot of fun, until the cat got annoyed and bit you. The cat managed to draw blood...it died from poison 10 minutes later. He's always been extra wary of you after that, making sure not to touch your wounds directly if you got injured in battle.

Once you start integrating yourself into their group, their acceptance of you becoming easier and easier to get, you also start some gift giving adventures. It was mostly Ghost at first, but occasionally you'd bring the rest things as well. The problem was that the things you brought him were...dead insects...dead animals...things that in your mind were excellent gifts because you were helping with keeping him fed, right?

He did really not view it like that, and when he found a dead rabbit, wrapped up nice and tight in a cocoon, placed neatly on his desk, he snapped at you. In the middle of his yelling you ran, to where they never found out, you became like a ghost, though the subtle hints that you were still around were there.

You kept out of sight for a few days, despite how much they tried to call you forth. Ghost always had this eerie feeling that when he turns you would be sitting creepily on the ceiling in the corner, but you're never in view. He even started feeling a little guilty for snapping at you, but he really did not like to dispose of dead animals every other day.

When you finally came back, it wasn't without a peace offering, and when you stood in front of him, holding out a little cocoon for him, he could only sigh. He accepted it reluctantly but found that there were no dead animals inside it, instead there were little trinkets that you had found. Mostly things he couldn't use, but there was one thing that stood out to him, a mask of his that he could've sworn he lost, yet you had somehow found it.

When he seemed a lot happier with this kind of gift, then you did too, your mood drastically improved, and you kept bringing him more. Though he still could find it to be an annoyance when it was a bunch of junk, it was better than dead insects, and when you looked so happy afterwards, who was he to complain.

Even if you were different, nearing the end of the experiment, none of them could deny that they had come to love your little quirks. Your presence had come to be expected around base, your helpful manner, your mischievous behaviour, adding something to their work life that they've come to quite enjoy.

And when you came running, half in tears, begging them to not send you back to your old handlers...well...it only took one glance between each other to have the quiet collective agreement, that they were going to do anything, to keep you right here with them.

#noctmoon talks #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #captain john price #john price #kyle gaz garrick #tf141 x reader #tf 141 x reader #tf141 #simon ghost riley x reader #john soap mctavish x reader #john price x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #cod #cod mw2 #😎Anon #noctmoon fics

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tiannasfanfic · 2 years ago

Text

Eddie’s Secret Stash

Eddie Munson x Reader (Smut)

| Eddie & Steddie Masterlist | AO3 Link |

Summary: When your laptop goes on the fritz, using your boyfriend's computer leads you to finding his porn collection in an unexpected way.

Rating: Explicit 18+

Author Note: Afab Reader, they/them pronouns (if any). Modern AU. Smutty but not full smut.

CW: Porn watching; description of porn video (ffm threesome, oral [f and m recieving], p n v sex).

Word Count: 1,628

It all started out with an innocent text to your boyfriend.

Hey babe, my laptop crashed again and I really want to get this story finished. Can I hop on your computer really quick?

Even though Eddie was at work, it didn’t take long for him to text you back.

You don’t ever need to ask me that, sweetheart, feel free to hop on whenever you need to.

Sweet! Thanks baby!

You went to his desk, sat down, and woke up his computer.

After it booted up, you had to text him again.

I kinda need the pin code to unlock it.

Every time you had used his computer before, he was home and it was already unlocked, so you just jumped on and did what you needed to do. Up until now, you didn’t even know he had a pin code on it.

Oh shit! Sorry sweetheart, I forgot. It’s the month and day of your birthday.

That made you melt into a puddle right there at the desk.

Aww, trying to score some brownie points with me?

Maybe…Is it working?

You’ll just have to wait until you get home to find out. ;)

Score!!!

Despite the fact you had been together for a while now, Eddie always acted like a horny teenager whenever you made allusions to having sex with him. And you were just as bad when he did it, even blushing a bit now at his eagerness, so you couldn’t really tease him about it.

You set your phone aside and typed the PIN number into his computer.

As a little turning wheel appeared on the center of the screen to show it was thinking about signing in, you got three texts from Eddie in rapid succession. He only did that when something was urgent or he was excited about something, so you looked at your phone Lock Screen to see what he said.

Wait!

Don’t sign onto my computer yet!

I need to get home first!

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the computer screen change as it finally signed you in and you glanced up from your phone to it.

And then you took a much longer glance.

On the monitor in front of you, paused in mid scene, was the fairly zoomed in image of a hard cock disappearing into the mouth of a woman wearing dark lipstick.

You blinked a few times and stared at the screen for a moment.

As a frequent purveyor of porn yourself, you weren’t upset by what you saw on your boyfriend’s screen. But surprise porn was like surprise alcohol in a drink when you were expecting soda or surprise weed when you were expecting a hand rolled cigarette. It’s always a bit shocking and it takes a moment to recover from. When you did, the corners of your mouth to curve upward in a playful grin.

Now with your original train of thought gone, you were in a playful mood. Your story could wait awhile. The deadline for it wasn’t until two weeks away anyway, you had just wanted to get the first draft done.

Settling back in Eddie’s computer chair, you clicked the space bar to unpause the video.

In this time period, two more texts came in from Eddie. You glanced at your Lock Screen again without opening them.

Sweetheart?

Y/N? Baby??

Eddie seemed uncharacteristically worried, which was a little bit confusing. The two of you had talked about watching porn before, so he should know it wouldn’t bother you. You shrugged and set your phone down, distracted by what was going on in the video.

It was a well-done amateur recording of a two girl, one guy threesome. As the one girl was blowing the guy, she was sitting on the other girls face. The scene stayed like this for just long enough to let you take everything in before the guy was pulling his cock from the girls mouth and then pushing her down so the two girls were in a sixty-nine.

You bit your lip, watching with rapt attention as the guy hopped down from where he had been standing on the bed to position himself behind the girl on top. He then grasped the base of his shaft with one hand, angling it so the girl on the bottom could start sucking on the head. It was a messy angle, soon her lips and cheeks were glistening with saliva from his thrusts into her mouth.

A small warmth began pooling between your legs as you watched the guy pull his cock out of her mouth, angle himself upwards and then sink deep into the cunt of the girl on top.

You had to give it to your boyfriend. He had good taste.

Since you had been striking out lately with your usual porn sites, you began to get curious where Eddie usually found his. You paused the video and minimized the window to find out.

Rather than a website, you were greeted by the file browser on the computer system itself, opened to a folder that was filled with porn. And it was by no means a small collection, it looked like he’d been working on this for years. There were dozens of sub folders and sub sub folders dedicated to specific acts and specific porn stars. Most of the videos were unsorted though, the majority of the files just dumped directly into this main porn folder.

Eddie had sent a few more texts by now, which you had ignored in favor of opening a different video that caught your eye. When it was clear those hadn’t gotten your attention, he was soon calling you instead.

“Edward James Munson!” you said when you answered your phone, making your voice sound stern.

“Sweetheart, I promise, it’s not what it looks like!”

“Really?” you said. “Because what it looks like is that you’ve been holding out on me!”

“I honestly wasn- wait, what?” he said, going from pleading to confused in two seconds.

“Seriously!” you said, exaggerating the tone so it was clearly playful. “You have an impressive collection like this and you don’t even think to share?” You clicked your tongue at him in an admonishing way. “I’m hurt. Truly, I’m hurt.”

There was a long pause from Eddie’s end of the phone.

“I’m…sorry?” he said slowly, nerves and hesitation in his voice, like this was an entirely new situation he found himself. “I…didn’t realize…you’d be interested in…it.”

“Seriously?” you dropped the playful act, now confused yourself. “We’ve talked about our favorite porn stars before, in depth discussions even, and you didn’t think I’d be interested?”

“Hey!” Eddie protested. “In my defense, do you know how many people will say they are fine with porn then freak out if they catch you watching it?”

Now that you thought about it, he had a point. Even you had that issue a few times in the past, either because you watched porn in general or because of what kind you watched.

“All right, fair point,” you said, then switched back to that playfully stern voice. “But that still doesn’t make it okay, mister.”

Now that Eddie knew how you really felt about the whole thing, his tone changed to a playfully apologetic one.

“I know, and I’m sorry,” he said, then his tone dropped lower. “Let me make it up to you, sweetheart.”

His voice sent pleasurable tingles down your spine.

“And how do you propose you’ll do that?” you said.

While you weren’t really paying too close of attention to the video you selected, focusing on the timber change of your man’s voice instead, what you did pay attention to had you rubbing your thighs together slightly. This one was definitely right up your ally.

“In any way you want me too, sweetheart,” he said, his voice a soft growl that was nearly a purr. “Anything you want me to do to you, I’ll do it with pleasure.”

Being a metal singer, and a damn good one at that, Eddie could do things with his voice outside of music that you previously wouldn’t have thought possible. While you were already getting quite worked up easily enough on your own, he knew just the right inflection to use on each word to make you clench around nothing.

And it also made all rational thought fly from your brain.

You swiveled your gaze up to the ceiling, distracting yourself just enough to pull your brain back from the haze Eddie’s voice was making your brain slip into.

“Gosh, I just don’t know,” you said, tapping your chin with one finger even though Eddie couldn’t see it. “Oh! I know! I could browse through these videos I found and see if those give me any ideas!”

From the other end of the phone, you heard Eddie clear his throat a couple of times. Clearly the idea of you watching porn on his computer derailed his brain a little bit.

“T-That is a good idea,” he said, and you could tell by his voice that you just made him blush, among other things.

“You’re off in about an hour, right?” you asked, and when he made a sound of confirmation, you continued. “I’m sure I will have something fun in mind by then.”

Since it was clear his brain wouldn’t get back on track if the phone call continued, you quickly let him go so he could finish out his workday.

As you settled back into his chair, watching the video, an evil grin came to your face.

If you knew Eddie as well as you were sure you did, this next hour was going to be the longest hour of his life.

Eddie Munson Taglist: @eddie-swhore @bmunson86 @tayhar811

#eddie munson #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson one shot

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wheels-of-despair · 2 years ago

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Eddie Munson (Stranger Things) Masterlist

Welcome to my Eddieverse, which I'm affectionately referring to as Evil Woman, Don't You Play Your Games With Me. These are snippets of a playful, prank-filled relationship that begins in 1984, starring Eddie Munson and a female reader I call Evil Woman.

These stories were originally designed to be standalones that could be read in any order, but as this world grows, a little organization might help. The original list below, with descriptions, is the order in which they were posted. There's also a list in chronological order. You can still pick and choose and read in any order you want. Both lists will be updated as I post new stuff.

If you are a blank or ageless blog who interacts with a fic that contains as Do Not Interact (DNI) warning, you will be blocked.

🧡 - Regularly scheduled light-hearted fun. 🖤 - Shit just got real. 💛 - IDK man, this one just kind of wrote itself. 💖 - Wait, there's romance now?

Wrapping Paper 🎅🧡 Eddie thinks he's here to hang out while you wrap presents, but you have something else in mind.

Fucking Fireworks 🎇🖤 Eddie doesn't like fireworks anymore. (New Year's Eve angst, AU where the events of S4 weren't prevented by the fic below)

The Fastest Fix-It (Or: How a Jealous Girlfriend Shut That Shit Down and Saved Eddie Before the Bell Rang) 🧡 In which a jealous girlfriend completely de-rails season 4, but Eddie's fine, so it's all good. (Fix-It, via the path of least resistance)

Draw Me Like One of Your Dwarf Girls, Eddie 🧡 Inspired by Titanic, Eddie decides to work on his drawing skills, and accidentally awakens a monster.

Eddie Munson and the Worst Valentine's Day Ever 💝🖤 An 8-year-old Eddie Munson has an experience that changes his feelings on Valentine's Day forever. (will make you cry)

Eddie Munson and the Best Anti-Valentine's Day Ever 💝🧡 In a sequel to the story above, Eddie discovers that Valentine's Day isn't so bad when you have someone to hate it with. (2.8k of me trying to make amends for what I did to him in the prequel)

Involuntary Secretary and the Dream Escape 💛 People won't leave you the hell alone, so Eddie comes to the rescue like the hero he is.

Classy Girl and the Scruffy Boy 🧡 Eddie's girl invites him over for a romantic dinner and a movie. It's... not exactly what he expected.

Wake-Up Call 🧡 Eddie doesn't want to get up. Sucks to be him.

The Case of the Missing Eddie 🖤🧡 Eddie disappears, and you freak the hell out.

Pinch Proof 🍀🧡 Eddie forgot to wear green on St. Patrick's Day, but you have an easy solution.

The Nerd King Cops a Feel 🧡 Eddie learns something about bras: He hates them.

Revenge of the Freaks 🧡 The Hellfire Club does April Fool's Day a little differently than you might expect.

It's the Easter Dragon, Eddie Munson 🐣🧡 Just a big scary metalhead doing cute Easter-y things with Evil Woman and her family for the first time, nothing to see here.

Evil Woman, Don't You Play Your Games With Me 🧡 The story of how Evil Woman got her name.

The Ups and Downs of Dating a Trash Panda 🧡 Eddie and Evil Woman's first date doesn't go exactly as planned… but everything works out in the end. Obviously.

It's Okay If You Are 🧡 Evil Woman and Eddie have a talk about The Dreaded V-Word.

Smoke Break 💖 Hellfire is holed up in your basement on prom night, but you can't sleep. Might as well drag Eddie outside for a smoke break.

I Touched Banana Bubblicious For You 🖤🧡 Some dickhead stuck a wad of gum in Eddie's hair, and you get the honor of removing it.

The Fuck Did You Just Say to Me? 💛💖 Eddie tests the degradation waters. Evil Woman boils him in it.

Who's Your Fucking Daddy? 💛💖 Eddie tries out the "daddy" thing. EW has an unexpected reaction.

You're the Fucking Worst 💛💖 Eddie tries talking dirty. Evil Woman is not a fan.

The First and Last Breakup of Eddie Munson and Evil Woman 🖤 Once upon a time, two stupid teenagers fell in love. And then they broke up for a stupid reason and spent a whole week doing stupid things because they're stupid teenagers. (angst with a happy ending)

Werewolf Children 🧡 The first time Eddie spent the night with Evil Woman, it was kind of an accident…

Sweet New Tatty 🧡 Eddie has a new tattoo, and it's driving Evil Woman crazy.

A Very Important Date 🎂🧡 Evil Woman doesn't want to make a big deal out of her birthday. However, she's dating Eddie Munson, sooo…

Clown Around and Find Out 🤡💛 Eddie decides to play a prank on Evil Woman, and quickly finds out just how dangerous that is.

The Little Air Conditioner That Could 🔥🧡 Eddie's girl is having a love affair with his air conditioner.

Secret Weapons 🧡 Eddie's mad at Evil Woman (over something dumb, don't worry, doesn't matter), but she knows how to win him back.

This Is Better 🧡 Eddie's lady love is down with The Curse, but his cuddly nature and massive paws come to the rescue.

Fangs for the Mammaries 🧡💖 Eddie wants to try a sexy new toy into the bedroom. Evil Woman wants a divorce. (unhinged Halloween-adjacent fluff)

Don't Move 💖 Eddie looks really good waiting for your snacks to come out of the microwave. So good that you'd rather eat him instead.

Eddie Munson Is My Babydaddy 🧡 Eddie and Evil Woman are responsible for a Flour Sack Baby for a week. Shenanigans ensue.

Flying Monkeys Couldn't Drag Me Away 🍂🧡 Evil Woman invites Eddie over for a fun fall night of makin' treats and watchin' a movie with the family.

What If Real Life Is the Nightmare? 🖤 Evil Woman has a dream about finding Eddie's broken body in a dark and awful place full of slimy monsters and red lightning… but it's just a dream, right? RIGHT? (dark but has a happy ending, I promise)

Bonus Blurb: What If Real Life Is Good? 🧡 Evil Woman comes home after What If Real Life Is the Nightmare and has A Heartfelt Moment with Baby Bro. (brotherly fluff, not much Eddie)

The Last First Day 🧡 Eddie and Evil Woman have a dramatic reunion on his last first day at Hawkins High. Class of '86, baby!

The First Lazy Thanksgiving 🧡🦃 Eddie comes to stay with Evil Woman during Thanksgiving Break '85 for a lazy and turkey-filled few days… but do holiday plans ever actually turn out the way they're supposed to?

I Hate Mondays 🧡 Like his beloved Garfield, Eddie hates Mondays. Evil Woman decides to give him a reason to look forward to them.

The Family Holiday 🖤🎅 It's December of 1985, and Evil Woman is ready to spend her first real Christmas with Eddie… why is he being weird about it?

I Promise 🧡🎅 Eddie gives Evil Woman something special during a quiet moment together on Christmas Morning '85.

A Slightly Late Munson Christmas 🧡🎅 Eddie spent Christmas '85 with Evil Woman, but it's time to go home and celebrate with Wayne… what if he brings her along?

The First Countdown 🧡🎇 Eddie and Evil Woman go to Reefer Rick's on New Year's Eve to say goodbye to 1985… and hello to a new favorite tradition.

The Best $7 Eddie Munson Ever Spent 🧡 In the fall of 1983, Eddie bought something he thought was cool… but he didn't realize how important it was until a year later.

The Devil's Trip 🧡 Eddie and Evil Woman embark on an epic spring break road trip… in which everything goes wrong.

Evil Woman's Tit-Warming Service 🧡 Eddie's cold, and there's only one acceptable solution to this very perky problem.

The Freak and His Evil Woman Do Valentine's Day 🧡💘 Last year's anti-Valentine's Day date was a success… but what if Eddie and Evil Woman tried normal romantic stuff in 1986?

Three Days 🖤🧡 Three days after Eddie and Evil Woman met for the very first time… there was a jock encounter they'll never forget.

Have You Ever Choked a Chicken? 🧡 Evil Woman decides to pop in and surprise Eddie with some morning cuddles… but, uh, he's a little busy.

A Situation 🧡🍍 There's only one thing in the world that could make Eddie turn Evil Woman Action down… and it's down there.

Taking Matters Into Your Own Hands 🧡 Eddie's on the phone talking to a nerd, and not in bed pleasuring his beloved like he should be. Evil Woman finds a way to make him focus on the important things.

Boys Are Idiots 🖤 (Alternate Version starring Billy Hargrove) Evil Woman gets partnered up with Steve Harrington for a science project. Which means she has to TALK to him? And be NEAR him? Eddie Munson is NOT a fan.

The Breakfast Club 🧡 It's 1985, and it seems like the entirety of Hawkins High is obsessed with The Breakfast Club. Evil Woman drags Eddie to the theater to see what all the fuss is about.

Evil Woman Sees (Big) Red 🖤👊 Remember in I Touched Banana Bubblicious For You, when Evil Woman had to get gum out of Eddie's hair? Again? Well… what if she found the person responsible?

The Long Con 🧡 Evil Woman brings Eddie a thoughtful gift… but there are some springs attached.

Can't Take You Anywhere 🧡 Eddie is super bored in the BMV and Evil Woman needs to find something for him to do, stat!

Heaven and Hell (Or: Eddie and Evil Woman Do… Prom?!) 🧡 Eddie and Evil Woman are checks notes going to prom? Like normies?!

The Letter 🖤🧡 Evil Woman gets a letter in the mail and says it's not a big deal… but to Eddie Munson, it's a very big deal.

Go Get 'Em, Tiger 🧡 Evil Woman sees Eddie in his gym shorts. 😏

Munson v. O'Donnell 🖤🧡 It's 1986, and Eddie Munson's long and storied high school career has come down to O'Donnell's final… and EW believing in him.

Did I Forget to Mention That? 🖤🧡 Eddie overhears a phone call between EW and the father she hates, which leads to a discussion they probably should've had ages ago.

Look At Him Now 🧡 Evil Woman sits with Wayne and watches Eddie be a dork.

Corroded Coffin v. Slip 'n Slide 🧡 Eddie and Evil Woman find an old Slip 'n Slide at a yard sale, and Corroded Coffin is super excited to try it out.

Best Seat in the House 🧡 Eddie needs a place to sit. Is Evil Woman's lap available?

Evil Woman and Baby Bro vs. The Worst Summer Vacation Ever 💛 Evil Woman and Baby Bro are off to see their old man in sunny Florida! Against their will. Armed only with well-concealed snacks and metal mix tapes and unacceptable attitudes. Send help.

The Legend of Lobster-Dick 🧡 It's Gareth's birthday! Evil Woman and Eddie present him with a cake he'll never forget. In front of all his friends. Oh no.

Ghost-Fuckers 🧡👻 Evil Woman dresses up to give Eddie a spooky, sexy surprise. But since when do things ever go as planned for those two?

How to Get a Hot Date 🖤🧡 Eddie and Evil Woman run into a little jock trouble… but she'll snark their way out of it. And into something else.

Brawl in Hallway B 👊 You mess with the Dungeon Master, you get the Hellfire Horns… or something. Or: Eddie, Evil Woman & Co. have had enough.

Gonna Need A Bigger Bathtub 🧡 Evil Woman, Eddie, and the rest of the Hellfire nerds have been sentenced to helping out at the school carnival.

Late 🖤 Eddie and Evil Woman survive a pregnancy scare.

The Sacrifice 🦇 Evil Woman makes an offering to the Prince of Darkness.

Want to read the Eddie x Evil Woman stories in chronological order instead? Click here!

Blurbs Based on Emojis 🔪 - Worst Baby-Sitter in the World 🥺 - Ugh, Fine! 🧝‍♀️ - Yes, My Queen 🐈 - Eddie's Familiar 🎢 - Traveling Death Trap

...and sometimes I write for Other People's Eddies. funsonmunson-again's birthday game oneforthemunny's summer game oneforthemunny's one-derful year

#writings of despair #masterlist #eddie munson #eddie munson x evil woman

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eoieopda · 1 year ago

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menace (pjm) — pt. vi

Pairing: Park Jimin x Kim!Reader Type: 6/6 (Mini Series) ⇢ Previous Chapter | Masterlist Genre: Smut + Fluff Rating: M (18+) Word Count: 6k+ Summary: This Valentine’s Day looks a lot different than the last one. AUs: Older brother’s best friend, fuck buddies that hate(d) each other CW: Reader is AFAB & queer, Jimin is so soft omg, ✨vulnerability✨, so much kissing wtf who am i?, nipple play, fingering (v), unprotected sex (p in v), DID I SAY SOFTNESS? A/N: Thank youuuuuu to everyone that stuck with me and these two idiots until the very end 💕 If you get lonely now that this is over, check out the rest of my masterlist. ⚠️ 18+ only ⚠️ minors and ageless blogs will be blocked. my content is not for you. i do not want to interact with you. please respect my boundaries.

It was odd, starting over with someone you’d known longer than nearly everyone else in your life. Jimin wasn’t a stranger by any means; he’d always been present, life running parallel to yours, but you’d never truly seen him up close.

Not accurately, anyway.

When you were younger, the pedestal you put him on kept the sun in your eyes. You’d have to squint to see his shortcomings, but you never did. Maybe that was one of yours, willful blindness. As far as you knew then — or, rather, as far as you bothered to look — Jimin had none. All he had was a bright, white light.

After that pedestal crumbled and Icarus took a swan-dive to the sub-basement of your expectations, the shadows down there warped the flaws you finally recognized. A trick of the light, they exaggerated every shitty thing you thought you saw and made them all worse. Scarier, even. Worth hating.

Once you finally allowed him to exist on equal footing, you realized that Jimin wasn’t made to be viewed in such high contrast. He wasn’t the monochromatic figure you’d mythologized, not two-dimensional. In reality, he was a prism refracting a thousand different, complicated colors that you hadn’t been giving him due credit for.

The first shade you discovered was the one that broke your brain the most. Jimin — the only person you knew that never responded to anyone’s calls or texts — wasn’t actually as solitary as he seemed. Really, the only thing he hated more than being by himself was having to admit that fact to anyone, especially you.

So, instead of calling to invite you along on his errand runs, he started showing up at your door to ask, “You’re not busy right now, are you?”

And just like that, without meaning to, you learned his routine. Another shade.

Every other Sunday, you’d wake up a little earlier than usual. No matter how tired or hungover you were, you would crawl out of your bed, into your well-functioning shower, and make yourself presentable. Then, when you no longer looked like a hobgoblin, you’d sit on your couch with your tea.

None of it was a conscious decision — waiting in the nearest seat to your front door, angling yourself so you could keep an eye on the driveway — at least, not at first. In fact, you didn’t even notice what you were doing until your newly-acquired therapist pointed it out.

“It sounds like you’re making space in your life for him, brick by brick.”

You laughed it off when she said it, but as weeks flew by, you finally had to concede that she was right. She was right about something else, too: you hadn’t been viewing yourself fairly, either.

“Cellophane can be iridescent, too, if you hold it right.”

Whatever shades of your own that you uncovered, you gradually learned to let Jimin see, too. He picked up on all of your intricacies much faster than you did — because of course he did — and unlike you, he didn’t stumble upon revelations by surprise. He didn’t muddle through your less-pretty shades by trial and error, like you did. To the contrary, he had an unexpected knack for anticipating your reactions, and he planned accordingly.

Everything he did was purposeful, from his choice of words to his actions. Like exhuming his phone from his pocket — “only because it’s you” — to let you know if he was running late to plans you’d made. It was rare that he didn’t show up on time, but whenever he couldn’t, he’d call to promise that he really was on his way. And he always was, no matter how shitty the weather was, or how much he might’ve wanted an extra hour of sleep.

Jimin and all his shades showed up for you.

On Christmas, when Seokjin’s part-time girlfriend threw a dinner party without knowing what the fuck she’d signed up for. You were three-quarters through a bottle of wine before you were pulled in to take over meal preparations with Seokjin; and although Jimin was mostly useless in front of a stove, he was good at fetching whatever you’d need next without you having to point to it. He was even better at keeping your respective glasses full, which felt even more important. Washing dishes after the fact wasn’t all that bad with him there, also drunk off his face, drying them.

On New Years’ Eve, when Jimin was too sick to join the bar crawl but still set an alarm to wake up and call you — right at midnight. You stepped out onto a snow-slicked sidewalk in order to hear him, disappointing the hell out of the girl whose lips wanted to kiss you into the new year. You ignored her pout, ignored the chill in the air, and focused on the way Jimin’s raspy voice had dropped an octave. He was asleep when you swung by shortly after with a box of tissues and a bottle of decongestants, but that didn’t matter; his spare key wasn’t well hidden, either.

And again — now — on Valentine’s Day, when you both decided to blow off Seokjin’s deranged, annual Parent Trap scenario.

Sprawled out on his couch like you owned the place, you scrolled idly through Netflix’s home page with your face scrunched. The hand not holding the remote dipped down into the bag of kkokalcorn chips resting on your chest.

“You’ve got an identity crisis in your watch history, Jimin,” you yelled out to him, hoping he’d hear your teasing clearly from where he stood in his kitchen. “I’m having trouble believing that you’re not actually a middle-aged white woman.”

At this, he stopped rummaging through his refrigerator and stood straight up to glare at you. His eyes and mouth all flattened into matching, straight lines.

You rattled off your findings, nudging him further. “The Notebook, Sleepless in Seattle —”

With every title you dropped, so did one of Jimin’s heavy footfalls. He was halfway to you, scowl growing, in the blink of an eye.

“10 Things I Hate About You?” You snorted. “Little too on the nose, don’t you think?”

Standing at the other side of his coffee table, he parked his hands on his hips and scoffed. “My choices are being criticized by an entire adult with corn-chip witch fingers? Are you kidding?”

Sheepishly, you pulled your hand from the kkokalcorn bag. He was correct; you had stuck your fingertips in the openings of the funnel-shaped chips. You wiggled them at him with a coy smile that made him roll his eyes. Satisfied, your mouth claimed the chip perched on the tip of your index finger.

If you didn’t know better, you’d say that the flash in his eyes just then was fondness.

You held the bag out to him, careful not to disrupt the rest of your manicure, and smiled to yourself when he accepted your offer. He tilted the bag and dumped a few of the chips into his open palm. With a small smile, he mused, “Haven’t had these since we were kids.”

That wave of nostalgia must have caught him in a riptide because he went quiet in a way that made you pause. You were about to speak up — to say what, you weren’t sure — but you promptly shut your mouth. Index and middle fingers now extended, he held out his hand to make a peace sign. Each fingertip had a small cone sitting crooked on top.

Jimin laughed unexpectedly, which almost made his already-crinkled eyes disappear completely. “Kinda look like little wizards.”

If you didn’t know better, you’d say that the thumping in your chest just then was fondness.

After shaking your head to clear those thoughts, you realized that the little wizards weren’t holding the glass of hard cider he’d gone to his kitchen to refill. You pushed yourself to your feet with one hand and a playfully exaggerated groan, popping the remaining chips from your fingers into your mouth at once.

“Leaving already?”

He should’ve known better than to ask you a question while your mouth was full, but he didn’t. The explanation he received was therefore unintelligible. Head cocked curiously to the side, lips slightly parted, he tried to connect the dots. Just as soon as he started, he gave up and trailed after you.

Jimin didn’t stop until you did, right in front of his refrigerator. He was so close, in fact, that you accidentally hit him with the door as you pulled it open.

“Oh, shit!” You muttered, shutting the door again quickly.

Wincing, your gaze flitted over to assess the damage you’d done to the outside of his bicep with the metal corner of the door. On instinct, you reached out to run the pads of your fingers over the faint red mark blooming there. Goosebumps spread in the wake of your touch, but you didn’t feel that same phantom chill. Just something electric that sparked against your fingertips.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it.” He said gently. “I don’t bruise like you do.”

In the moment of silence that followed, you felt compelled to lift your eyes but not your hand. Unless you were imagining things, he leaned into your touch, just slightly. Not enough to see, but enough to feel.

It’d crossed your mind a thousand times since you walked through his front door. With that throwaway statement, Jimin confirmed he’d been thinking about it, too — about who you both were on this date last year. About the way you’d only ever let him treat you roughly because anything sweeter threatened the distance you were trying to keep. About the bruises given with no chance to kiss them better.

You weren’t that person anymore, and neither was he.

“Jimin,” you started.

It was the farthest along in your sentence that your voice would let you go.

After the million baby steps you’d taken in his direction and the healing you’d allow yourself to do, you were still scared to show your cards. Now, you’d seen him in technicolor. Now, if you fucked things up, you’d never be able to go back to black and white.

What if you fuck things up again?

Jimin sensed your hesitation, but he didn’t accept it. Instead, he closed the distance so slowly that your hand wasn’t disrupted from where it rested on his bicep. His hands found you just as easily. One made its home at the small of your back while the other cupped the side of your face.

With a whisper lighter than air, he asked, “If I kiss you, will you let me?”

His eyes flitted from yours, to your lips, then back again.

“Or will you kamikaze dive into my kitchen table?”

Your reply was even softer than the question posed. “Only one way to find out.”

If the uptick at the corner of his lips told you anything, it was that he intended to.

Cautiously, as if sudden moves would startle you, he pulled your body flush against his. His other hand tilted your face upwards, thumb gently tucked under your chin while the rest of his fingers rested in the space just below your ear. His touch kept your body present even when the sensation of his kiss threatened to sweep your feet out from underneath you.

Plush pink and delicate, his lips molded to yours like they were specially designed to do just that. Like cracks giving way to let the light in, you opened yourself up for him. Licked into his mouth, eager to learn the parts of him you’d missed in all the time you’d shut him out.

And if you listened — really listened, over the moan he swallowed from you — you could’ve sworn you heard all the silly pages of your childhood diary flipping furiously. Scribbled to hell and back with a glitter gel pen, each one noting that this is what you wanted, this is what you wanted, this is everything you wanted.

The eternity in that kiss wasn’t long enough. Eventually, he broke the contact, pulling a disagreeing gasp from you when he pulled away. Your lips buzzed from the sudden loss of pressure — that, or they trembled without the warmth of his mouth. Either way, he was gone too soon.

The hand you had resting against his bicep slipped down to the center of his chest to tug at the fabric of his t-shirt. Unable to nip that growing neediness in the bud, you frowned.

“Jimin,” you sighed. You had nothing to follow-up with. His name was the totality of that thought.

Several moments of silence came next. His brow furrowed, like he was trying and failing to find something less vulnerable to say. He couldn’t. When it slipped out, his eyes searched your face for a reaction.

“I want to be soft with you.”

Any time you’d been together before, it was carnal, dripping with unarticulated hurt. He didn’t want that, not this time. You didn’t have to guess why.

Though the level of desperation you both felt now was familiar, the underscore had changed. Jimin wanted to touch you carefully because he felt fragile — so did you. If either of you moved too quickly, too roughly, you ran the risk of upending the balance you’d found. Like you, Jimin seemed to know that this was delicate.

You lifted your hand from his shirt and placed it on top of his where it sat above your jaw. Gently, your fingers wrapped around his and lowered them so you could intertwine them properly. Then, without a word and without letting go, you led him out of the kitchen into the small hallway.

This was the first time you’d crossed his house without sprinting and violently shedding your clothes as you went. It felt like you were seeing it all for the first time because, in a way, you were.

You’d never noticed the framed photos lining the walls of the hallway, or the subtle notes of grey in the white paint behind them. In all the time you’d spent there before, it’d never clicked that this house was a home. Everywhere, there were hints of him — his interests, his achievements, the friends you’d never met — sitting so blatantly in places you’d previously ignored.

Jimin apologized when you stepped over the threshold into his bedroom. “My plan was to clean it tomorrow.”

He smiled sheepishly as his free hand carded through the hair at the base of his neck.

“Doesn’t do you any good today, though.”

“I don’t mind,” you hummed in reply, shutting the door slowly behind him. “My plan was to do laundry today, and — well, you’ll see how that worked out for me.”

You kept your fingers interlocked with his while you surveyed his room. Like the rest of the house, you’d been in there countless times before without truly seeing any of it. Apart from the bare minimum clutter he’d needlessly apologized for, every surface was thoughtfully decorated. Even the absence of some keepsake or trinket on his shelf was purposeful.

He keeps space.

Propped on a stand near his dresser was his guitar, which you didn’t even know he still played. Of course he does, you thought, he’d have been an idiot to throw that talent away.

You were smiling long before you noticed you were doing it, even more so when you clocked where it sat. Just like it did in his childhood home, the guitar was positioned directly across the room from his doorway — the first and last thing he’d see when he came and left.

Carefully, you reached out and trailed one finger over the tuning pegs. It all felt forbidden, but stupidly, you felt compelled. You spent a lifetime aching to touch him. For reasons you couldn’t explain, his guitar was no different.

Watching you caress his guitar made his pulse race harder; you could feel it where your wrist aligned with his. If nothing else had changed, you suspected that he still didn’t let anyone lay a finger on it. Jimin always insisted that he did all the maintenance himself because he didn’t trust the technician at the local music shop to be careful enough.

To your surprise, it didn’t appear to be anxiety spinning circles in his stomach as he watched you. He spun you around, and it was clear from the look in his eye — the unshakeable desire he felt to touch you that same way.

You wondered what he was thinking while he studied your face in silence — if the months he’d spent trying to teach himself to hate it had blurred your features; and if he saw them clearly now.

The smattering of freckles across the bridge of your nose which swept over the tops of your cheekbones — even though it was winter, and you hadn’t seen much of the sun for weeks.

The small scar interrupting your eyebrow, which you’d gotten when both of your families went camping together a million years ago. He’d sprinted across tide pools to help you back to your feet, reaching you long before Seokjin could catch up.

You didn’t know if it was a conscious decision now, but he leaned down and placed a kiss there the way you wished he had back then.

“This isn’t still illegal, is it?” He murmured against your skin.

Unable to breathe, let alone speak, you shook your head so subtly that it couldn’t reasonably be counted as movement. Your next move was bolder, though: You unzipped your sweatshirt, shrugged your way out of it, and let it fall at your feet.

With a quick glance down, you remembered what you were wearing and cringed with your whole body.

Neither of your socks matched; your sweatpants had a hole near the crotch; and your sweatshirt’s sole task had been to hide the ratty, old MapleStory t-shirt that you stole from Seokjin when he went off to college.

A certifiable mess in a self-imposed dry spell.

Jesus Christ.

“Laundry day,” you blurted out in explanation, though he hadn’t asked. He wasn’t laughing, either — not reacting in any way to roast you the way you expected him to. Still, the tips of your nose and ears burned with embarrassment. “I didn’t plan for… this.”

His index finger dipped under the hem of your t-shirt and his thumb mirrored the way it traced the stitching.

“I kind of forgot that you own shit like this.” He replied softly, looking more pensive than usual. “Never see you in sweats.”

It was a fair point.

Jimin had slept next to you on three occasions — when the rules permitted — and you always woke up the same way you’d fallen asleep: completely naked. Somehow, it felt even more intimate for him to see what you wore when you went to bed without him. The silly, branded t-shirt probably said more about you than your bare chest did.

You realized that you’d never seen him in his current state before, either, with black joggers hanging low on his hips. His fluffy, air-dried hair didn’t sit smoothly the way it normally did. You wanted so badly to run your fingers through it, but there was a stronger compulsion to reckon with:

His shirt was ripped at the hem, not quite covering the lower inches of his torso.

Unthinkingly, your hand reached out so your fingers could rest against the skin there, midway down faint the trail of hair that dipped under the waistband of his pants. So much warmer than you, he shivered at your touch. You paused, self-conscious, then glanced up at him with eyebrows raised.

Is this okay?

You didn’t have to ask out loud to get an answer. It came as a whisper — “cold hands” — and it was accompanied by a smile that made your knees weak.

He nodded towards the other side of his room and said, “C’mere.”

The hand that previously held yours found it again. Fingers slipping easily into the spaces between yours, he led and you followed.

The crisply folded sheets contrasted completely with the effortless coziness of the rest of the space, but they didn’t stay that way for long. With his free hand, Jimin gripped the comforter and tugged it loose. It fluttered and fell freely back down over the bed.

Sighing reflexively, you slipped into the opening he’d created within the blankets. Every fiber smelled like him — clementine flower, orange blossom, water lily and orris — and now, so would you.

Jimin waited for you to scoot over before filling the space next to you, tilting his body inward to keep his eyes on you. His bent knee pressed against your outer thigh. It was chaste, especially when you considered the thousand other ways he’d touched you, but it had you vibrating in place, nonetheless. He probably felt it when he leaned in and kissed you for the third time, fingers sliding into your hair.

Tangled in him, your intrusive thought won out. Loose, it flew like a ping-pong ball around the inside of your skull: He can probably feel all that dry-shampoo, too.

Like he was begging you to focus, the tip of his tongue flicked across your bottom lip and stole a whimper. Your lips parted eagerly against his to accommodate him; both of you starving for every bit of tenderness you’d refused to let him give before.

As he poured more of himself into that kiss, the hand in your hair ran slowly down the length of your neck, over the slope of your shoulder, and down the curve of your torso. It stopped on the top of your thigh, warming you through to your bones. For the first time, his fingers didn’t dig harshly into the doughy flesh he found there. Now, his feather-light touch left you buzzing instead of bruised.

With every second that passed, your tingling spine struggled more and more to hold you upright. Noting the slight shift in your posture, Jimin guided you — still lip-locked — to rest your head on his pillows. It wasn’t until you tilted your head slightly to the side that his lips left yours; dipped down below your jaw to pepper the exposed skin there with unbearably soft kisses.

Each one made your pulse race harder than the last, pulled needy little breaths out of your mouth.

“Sound so pretty when you sigh like that,” he hummed against your throat. “Might have to kiss you like this forever if this is what it gets me.”

You’d been underneath him more times than you could presently recall, but never like this. Until now, you never understood how a person could say they loved you without any words at all, but you heard it. More than anything, you felt it in every brush of his lips — in the static crackling around you, charged with every little, languid line his tongue left behind.

The only thing distracting from your swelling heart was the wetness pooling in the bikini bottoms you’d hastily thrown on in the absence of clean underwear.

Fucking laundry day.

The sole consolation was the fact that the blend of polyester and elastane was better suited for a flood than any lace you would’ve consciously selected.

The breath behind his words tickled and surprised you, derailing your train of thought.

“Is it against the rules to tell you how beautiful I think you are?”

The circles he drew against the fabric of your sweatpants had you hypnotized, but you still managed to reply, “No more rules. Except — Oh, fuck.”

You mewled at the sensation of him suckling at the spot where your neck joined your shoulder.

“Except that you can’t ever stop.”

His lips curled into a smile against the love bite he’d so carefully crafted.

“I won’t,” he murmured before placing a kiss in the same spot he’d marked. “But I may need an intermission to get these incredibly chic clothes off your body. Kind of feels sacrilegious, though, I’ve gotta say.”

Your eyes flickered over to him, eyebrows raised. He pursed his lips to keep from smiling, forced the straightest face he could muster, then traced his fingertip over the rip in the crotch of your sweatpants. Sounding downright reverent, he explained, “They’re holey.”

“Oh, Jesus Christ.” You dropped your head back against the pillows with a groan that didn’t outgun your laughter. “Straight to jail for that. Seriously, that’s a federal crime.”

When your eyes stopped rolling and settled on him, Jimin was already looking down at you with amusement sparkling in the deep brown of his irises. He said nothing, opting instead to kiss you — for the fourth time — as a farewell before pulling away entirely.

The spot next to you went cold as soon as he sat up, but — bravely — you didn’t complain. You watched with your bottom lip pinched between your teeth. He grabbed the end of his haphazardly, perfectly cropped t-shirt and pulled it off over his head.

Your only instinct was to reach up to his bare chest and trace every plane of it. To your dismay, Jimin intervened. Fingers at the hem of your top now, he stared expectantly at you until you stretched your arms above your head. That stupid, stolen shirt was guided up and off before it was discarded somewhere unseen.

Jimin’s pupils dilated immediately, gaze sweeping over your bare chest like he was beyond grateful that all your bras were at home, drowning in your washing machine. Uninhibited, he leaned forward. The delicate, cuban-link chain of necklace tickled the skin of your stomach while he placed an open-mouthed kiss in the space between your breasts. Cool to the touch, you shivered for more reasons than one.

When his tongue flicked out over one erect nipple, all you could offer was a breathy sigh, brain scrambled to hell and back. He seemed to draw inspiration from this — him and his goddamn mouth promptly switched tactics. Mimicking you, he looked up at you from under his lashes and blew a warm stream of air over your other nipple.

You were full-out whimpering underneath him. “Shit.”

“Yeah?” He smirked before taking the pebbled bud into his mouth and sucking softly, eyes still locked on yours.

Can I cum from this?

Oh god, I really might cum from this.

His mouth’s ministrations continued while his hands swept gently down the curves of your waist. That is, until they reached the elastic waistband of your sweatpants. Abruptly, Jimin stopped and sat back onto his calves.

You didn’t have to ask. Jimin’s eyes widened in tandem with the grin on his face; and you knew what he’d discovered. Smiling now with all his teeth, he tugged playfully at the knotted tie sitting above your right hip, keeping your bikini bottoms in place.

He snorted incredulously, “Be fucking for real.”

“Stop.” The word was elongated as you whined. It was useless, but you swatted at his arm. “I told you — ”

“I know, I know. It’s laundry day.” Fuck, his affection for you was written all over his face. “Incredible — truly, I have no notes.”

You buried your face in your hands to hide from him, but he didn’t let you. Just like he did that time on your couch, Jimin pulled your hands away from your face and held them in his own. This time, when he kissed you, you didn’t tear yourself away from him. Instead, you did the opposite. You grabbed the sides of his face in your hands and leaned into him.

With his hands now free, he was able to push your sweatpants down the rest of the way without extricating his lips from yours. Those fucking bikini bottoms went with them when he slipped the fabric over your ankles and tossed them blindly over his shoulder.

Mouth moving hungrily against yours, his hand hovered over your cunt, radiating warmth. You fought to keep your last shred of patience but lost, shifting underneath him to beg wordlessly for his touch. He obliged. His middle finger dipped between your sopping folds until it found the swollen bead of your clit and spiraled over it.

“Fuck,” you moaned into his mouth. He swallowed it, kissed you so deep your mind went blank.

The slow pace he’d chosen normally would have driven you mad, but instead of coming across as a taunt — or a punishment — you got the impression that he was basking in your arousal. That he was taking his time, savoring you and the million ways your body craved his.

When you pulled back, your lips were kiss-bitten and palpably swollen. He must have felt your quickened breath against his own lips. They autonomously curved into the tiniest sliver of a smile.

Watching him watch you, it was clear that Jimin loved you like this — wide-eyed, unguarded, inviting. He loved you generally. You knew that much for certain as he gazed down at you, and you were so fucking thankful that neither of you had to keep pretending otherwise.

Whatever trance he’d fallen into ended when you whispered, “Please.”

Though your plea wasn’t much more than an exhale, he didn’t need to be told twice. Momentarily, he stood; and as he did, your own hand dipped down between your legs. He stepped out of his joggers with his focus trained on you, staring spellbound while you touched yourself in his absence. Wet enough to drip.

If you had to wager on it, you’d bet that he could’ve stood there all night observing, listening to the way you moaned as you slicked your own fingers, but the darkened tip of his cock was weeping like he wanted you badly enough to ache. Completely incapable of spending any more time as a bystander, he fell to his knees between your legs. There, he guided them further apart with his hands.

Desperately, you grabbed one of his hands from where it sat on your knee and pulled him so that he was leaning over you once again. You wanted to feel the way his breath caught as he entered you, bare chest pressing into yours while he filled you. Needed him — just him — all the time.

Forearms now pressed to the mattress and fingers in your hair, he caged you in. His forehead came to rest against yours when you reached into the space between your bodies and dragged his tip through the mess he’d made of you. That faint squelch was obscene enough in the quiet of his room. It couldn’t hold a candle to the groan that escaped his chest when he finally entered you.

“Holy shit.” He exhaled sharply through gritted teeth. Your walls enveloped him, squeezing tight enough that no question remained about where he belonged. “Fucking missed you.”

That initial, perfect ache threatened to blind you, but it wouldn’t have mattered with the way your eyes screwed shut — too overcome with want to do much more than breathe. Slowly, inch by inch, his cock stretched you until he bottomed out. It was the closest thing you’d ever had to an out-of-body experience.

“Missed you,” you mumbled.

Well beyond fuck drunk, you bordered on incoherent. A kiss on your forehead lassoed you, brought you crashing back down. It was redundant, but he murmured, “Come back to me.”

You blinked up at him in a haze.

“Want you to look at me.”

He sounded shy, more vulnerable than you’d ever heard him, and you didn’t need any further explanation.

Eye contact had never been on the table before, deemed early on to be far too fucking intimate. If this is what he wanted, you decided, you’d never take your eyes off him again. Especially not when he looked at you the way he did then, like you hung the fucking stars in the sky.

You countered, “Kiss me.”

And he did, like he might never get the chance again.

No amount of closeness could’ve been enough, but you settled for wrapping your legs around him. With his range of motion now limited, he grinded against you; the curve of his cock rubbed against that secret spot behind your pubic bone.

Bones? Do you still have any of those?

Every tantalizing, slow thrust made it harder for you to remember why you’d ever required harshness when his gentleness now was infinitely more intense. It was so much better — being loved by him rather than hated.

Desperate fingers left half-moon imprints on his back, which was beginning to slick with sweat. The spaces between your whimpers lessened while the pressure in your abdomen began to build. Jimin had you teetering at the edge of the world, and you told him so with your lips at his ear, “Please — I’m so close.”

His forehead creased, and you watched in real time as determination etched itself into his features. He was perfect — beautiful — and he was close, too. You clenched; he cursed, “Fuck.”

You looked up at him through fluttering lashes, silently begging him not to stop. Not now, not ever. Stay.

“You’re all I’ve ever wanted,” Jimin murmured, burying himself deeper with every thrust. “You know that, right? How much you mean to me?”

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

He watched your face as you came — when your eyes rolled back, and your head tilted against his pillows. Your legs loosened their binds around him as they shook, gasping moans tumbling out of your open mouth. His pace didn’t falter; his presence deep inside of you only elongated your orgasm.

Bliss.

You were still fluttering around his length when your eyes finally drifted open again. Not even through your first aftershocks, his panting breaths alone could’ve pushed you headfirst into a second orgasm.

His gaze had dropped at some point to see the way your cunt clung to him with every backstroke. He must’ve felt you staring, though; he looked back up at you, pupils blown wide. That was all it took to dot stars along the edges of your vision.

Back arching up off the mattress, you gushed around him once again. Mindless babbling — consisting only of his name and expletives — fell clumsily off your tongue. It caught both of you off-guard when your shaky voice managed to plead, “Wanna feel you cum — please. Want you to let go for me.”

Only after you begged him did his thrusts become desperate, reckless. There was the unmistakable sound of your wetness and skin colliding with skin, and then there was the low moan that built in the seat of his chest and broke free. Face buried in the crook of your neck as he came, the heat of his breath on your skin was rivaled only by the dizzying warmth of his release spilling into you.

He struggled to hold himself up while his spent cock still twitched inside of you. If you were being honest, you adored the way his weight pinned you against his mattress. Maybe, you thought, you could stay there forever.

Eventually, an exhausted voice came from the curve of your shoulder, almost too muffled to hear.

“How is it —” Jimin panted. “— That in the hundred times we’ve had sex, it never felt like that?”

You chewed on the inside of your cheek. Tingling fingertips ran lightly and lazily across his shoulder blades. The hint of hesitation bubbling in the pit of your stomach cautioned you not to speak your thoughts out loud, so you stared at the ceiling above you and willed yourself to be brave.

Your voice threatened to give up on its way out.

“Nobody’s ever fucked me like they love me before.”

He mustered all the energy he still had to turn his head and look at you. At first, you couldn’t tear your eyes off the ceiling to look back. Make space, you begged yourself; and so, you did.

With his chest resting heavily on yours, you wondered if he could feel the way your heart skipped a beat at that eye contact alone. The glimmer in his eye informed you that, yes, he could.

“Better get used to it, then.” He punctuated his thought by pressing his lips to your temple. “‘Cause that’s what you signed up for.”

You smirked, “Oh? Was there a contract?”

You might’ve kept teasing him if he didn’t tilt your head to kiss you properly — and fuck, you were melting all over again.

“Sealed with a kiss, no less.” He leaned down to nip affectionately at your earlobe. Mouth at the shell of your ear, he purred. “Like any deal with the devil should be.”

“Goddamn.” You whistled. “Promoted from menace to devil already. Congratulations.”

With a roll of his eyes, he pulled out of you and forced himself upright to his feet. Before you could even ask him to, Jimin leaned down to kiss the lips you’d poked out into a pout. Your voice was uncharacteristically needy as your question slipped out.

“You are coming back, right?”

“Nope,” he hummed against your lips. You leaned away from him with your jaw dropped incredulously. “I’m taking a shower and I’m taking you with me.”

That was the only warning you got before one of Jimin’s arms slipped under the hinge of your knees, and the other disappeared behind your back. You screamed. Instead of flailing — a one-way ticket to the floor, you imagined — you threaded your arms around his neck and clung to him as if your life depended on it.

“Pardon me,” you sputtered. “But what the fuck is happening right now?”

“Shhh — pipe down. I’m keeping a promise.”

You stared at him expectantly. For a moment, he ignored you and continued quietly on his way towards the bathroom. It wasn’t until he reached the threshold that he paused with a sigh.

The look he shot you then was far more earnest than you could’ve expected under the circumstances. One that said he saw you, not through you, and he wasn’t going to look away.

Jimin said it breezily, like it cost him even less than the air it took to vocalize it: “I am not letting you down again.”

A pinprick of tears stung the corners of your eyes. You fought like hell to keep them where they belonged. It was such a stupid joke — made so lightly — and it still held more weight than anything you’d ever heard.

Eyes swimming despite your resistance, you sniffled and laughed. “Not, like, literally, though — right?”

“Aw, baby.” He kissed your temple again, cooing. Part of you hated it, but the rest of you swooned. “Don’t test me.”

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