#and he knows he was wrong he is like aware that he was in the wrong

[oceansblvds]

not allowed — satoru gojo

pairing ; sensei!satoru gojo x student!reader

words ; 7.6k (my bad)

about ; you're given your first solo mission with your sensei gojo overlooking to make sure anything doesn't go wrong. both of you are aware that being borderline obsessed with the other is wrong, but who liked rules anyway?

warning(s) ; smut, oral (fem receiving), p in v sex, age gap but both are consenting adults, gojo may be a little ooc but support my delusions anyway, my yapping, not edited, longing? i don't fucking know.

author's note ; okay okay hi! this is different from my normal content but i've been obsessed with jjk recently and i have gojo brainrot. so consider this my beginning of many fics to come. feel free to request!

YOU HADN’T EVER BEEN ON A MISSION ALONE WITH YOUR SENSEI BEFORE. It was . . . Odd. Typically, one of your other classmates would accompany you along with your Sensei in order to encourage similar teachings. Though this time it seemed as though this mission was something that was matched to you, up your sleeve given your technical curse usage, and it was to be something that you did with the guidance of Satoru Gojo, and he was only allowed to intervene if you were going to get severely harmed. The town that you were assigned to, with a cursed spirit seemingly murdering children who went out into the sea too late at night, was a sleepy little town. You were sure that this was the first time that they had ever experienced turmoil like this, and they were happy to allow you and your Sensei to ‘investigate’ the murders. As you parked the car in the parking lot, you looked around, seeing several townspeople watch as you stepped outside of the drivers side of the road, Satoru out on the passengers side, both dressed in dark black clothing. He had made a joke about how he didn’t trust you driving at all, yet insisted that he wasn’t the one to get you two down there. 

I don’t drive myself places. 

Yeah, well, then he would put up with your driving after all. 

“I can feel your apprehension,” Your Sensei told you, walking in front of you up the stone stairs that came up to the front door of the place you would be staying in with him. Behind you was nothing but your car in the empty lot, the people watching getting uninterested as Gojo pulled out a key and began fiddling with the lock. Damn thing looked as though it had rusted at least three times over. You couldn’t wait to hear him complain about how you two should’ve been granted luxury. You hadn’t even been inside yet and you were already thinking about what he was going to say. The town was so small that there weren’t any hotels, the nearest one over an hour away, meaning that you would have to live in one of these larger homes on the beach for the time being. There wasn’t to be any distractions either, it was supposed to be a pretty open and shut case. Find the curse, exorcize it. It wasn’t that high of a grade anyways, or so you were told by your overachieving Sensei. 

If only people  knew that it didn’t matter if there was no one other than your Sensei to engage with, because Satoru Gojo, alone, was able to distract you for hours on end if you really put your mind to it. Satoru and you were very similar in age, early adult years, and yet he had the role of Sensei and you were still just a Student. You knew that it was because of his efforts of expelling Suguru Geto from the plane of existence, and that alone was enough to grant him the title of Special Grade Sorcerer, but it still was awkward at points when he talked down on you, because really, he had only four years more experience in life than you did.

You did what you were told. You always did. As a younger student you had a temper, a rebellious streak that for a time was almost concerning for the Jujutsu community that taught you. And yet, here you were, a respectful young sorcerer. Over the years you have grown, probably more than any other student that the community had seen, or at least, since your Sensei himself. It was like overnight somehow you turned from a child to a young woman, and you were adamant about completing your studies so that you could become a Special Grade. Those plans, however, were way easier said than done. You still had to work very hard to even get to the level of Gojo’s left hand in terms of strength and ability. But oh did you want it. You wanted all that power, and that was probably why he was so keen on teaching you, why he brought you on this mission in the first place. 

You were just like him, in a lot of ways. 

Satoru was not entirely a man of secrets. You could ask him things about almost anything and he would tell you. The only thing that he kept guarded in the deepest parts of his mind was things of his past, and his reasoning behind making such vast decisions like he oh so loved to do. But you and Satoru still managed to be very close, the cursed energy growing strong between both of you as if it too agreed in your compatibility.

You shook your head, immediately refuting his accusations. “No, it’s not apprehension,” you told him, eyes coming up to meet the back of his head since he wasn’t looking at you. “Just concern, that’s all.”

“That’s all?” Your Sensei questioned. The second that his foot came up to the top of the stairs, his figure turned around and faced you, those bold, blue eyes from under his black mask looking at you even if you couldn’t see it, you could definitely feel them there. “If you have any doubts about anything, tell me, I am your Sensei after all.” He loved calling himself that. 

That’s exactly that problem, you thought to yourself, making sure that your mental shields were up to guard it so that it wasn’t written all over your face. That was the last thing that you needed, for him to know the things that you wished to push down into the darkest depths of your mind. The thought of simply just being with him here alone made your brain almost electrify yourself, thinking about all the possibilities of slipping up and revealing all your emotions towards your Sensei directly to him. It was something to fear, and yet you were not allowed to fear, you couldn’t fear someone like him who was supposed to teach her. 

You offered him the fakest smile that you could muster, saying, “Yes, I’m alright. Let’s just get inside, it’s almost dark.” The setting sun was directly to your back, illuminating him in front of you like he was something to be marveled at. And to your defense, Satoru Gojo was definitely something to be marveled at. His chiseled cheeks only looked more distinguished in the golden light, along with his silver-esque blonde hair that seemed to catch it just right. It made you feel weak in the knees, these thoughts of him, and you knew it was wrong to think of him in such ways - but you just couldn’t stop. Every time you tried to vilify him in your mind, another reason why you should love popped right back up in its place. It was a deadly cycle that you have shamelessly fallen victim to, and there was nothing that you could do to stop it or further this attraction. It was forbidden. He was your teacher.

The moment that you stepped into the building, a sigh left your lips, eyes taking in all your surroundings. It was marvelous. There were marbled stone floors that were covered in rugs in some places, plush couches in the middle of the room, and off to the side were the counters of the kitchen, all looking as if no one had ever stepped foot in here. Suddenly you felt out of place here, like you weren’t good enough to live in such a lavish way. After all, your dorm room at the school was nothing compared to this. They were bland, sandy and brown colors everywhere. Only a dresser with a small mirror and a bed were in it. Yet here, there were different hues of reds, greens, and blues, tables and chairs and fancy lamps, and plants that added almost another dimension to the already breathtaking house.

“It’s - It’s,” You started, not able to find the correct words for what you were trying to say.

Luckily, Gojo finished your sentence, “Breathtaking. It’s breathtaking.”

You turned to look back at him, taking in his features for just a moment more.

Breathtaking, you thought to yourself. Yes, everything here is just breathtaking.

-

The soft silks of your bed sheets rolled between your fingers, tempting you to lay into bed and never get back up. How on Earth were you supposed to find this curse when you were living like this? You could imagine yourself, not as a sorcerer but as a normal person, eating wild berries as you sat on your bed near the balcony, looking towards the horizon and not having one single worry in that head of yours. It was tantalizing, the perfect picture in your mind of what you wished to be.

“Why do you have that dumbfounded look on your face?”

You spun around to only be met with Satoru, who was leaning against your doorframe effortlessly. Has he always been that tall? A heat rose up to your cheeks, realizing that you hadn’t been taking the proper precautions of keeping those thoughts only to yourself, it was written all over your face. They were just little flings of ideas, nothing too brash that could get you into any trouble. “I shouldn’t have been thinking of slacking off when we have work to do in the coming days.”

A chuckle escaped his lips from deep within his chest. “It’s okay, Y/N, really, if I am being honest, I was thinking the same not too long ago.”

That was shocking news to you. You always thought that Gojo always wanted to be on the run, as if this trip that he had to take with you was annoying to him because he had to take time away from much more special missions that he would get to be the leader of. But it also made sense, even victorious Special Grade Sorcerers get tired sooner or later. Perhaps you didn’t know him as much as you thought that you did. This trip wasn’t just for you, it was for the both of you. It was good to go back to basics, even for someone as powerful as him. 

“And here I was thinking that you didn’t want to be here,” You mused.

Satoru laughed at your jest. “No, quite the opposite. It’ll be nice to take a step back from life for a little bit and get to watch you do all the work.”

“I didn’t know that Satoru Gojo knew what rest meant,” You continued on with your playful banter.

“I don’t,” He chuckled. “Maybe you can teach me?”

Now that sends you through a loop. You knew that he was probably just playing around with you, since you were teasing him a little bit. But that sentence was enough for that place in your mind to unlock all the fantasies you had in your head about him, the ones that you only dared touch when you knew you were alone and it was the dead of night. You held yourself back from becoming flustered, knowing the moment you showed any signs of it that he would know that something was up. Instead you simply nodded your head, taking your eyes off of him to the balcony that was open to your room, seeing the way that the moonlight illuminated the waves of the water. “Perhaps after investigating tomorrow, we could go by the water?” You asked him.

“Sure thing,” Satoru said, turning on his heel and making his way out of your room. You took a sigh of relief at his absence, not because you wanted him gone, but because seeing him in such a leisurely setting was starting to get to your head. That dizzy feeling that got to your head every time you looked at him for too long started to subside, and you were left with only your thoughts as you put away some clothes you packed for the stay.

The moment that your head hit the soft, plush pillow of your large bed, you were completely enveloped by sleep. In your dreams you only saw you and Satoru, happy and smiling in the gracious flower fields you had passed on the way here, preparing meals together half dressed in the kitchen, and falling asleep in each other’s arms. It was so real and lifelike that when you woke up in the morning, you felt as if you had awoken from an alternate universe.

-

Satoru didn’t know what he was doing.

Of course he was excited to be able to take a break from the long days of having to deal with the stupid fucking orderlies at the school, but at the same time he knew that being alone with you was going to be a struggle for him. Gojo loved to train you, he really did. You were a loyal student and was eager to learn from his instruction. He knew the moment that he saw you that he wanted to train you. But he hadn’t prepared for him to become so emotionally attached to you, and it was tearing the young teacher apart. 

It was incredibly taboo of him to gain these feelings for two reasons. One: he should really learn to teach other people so that he wasn’t spending all his time giving all of his ‘wisdom’ (as he liked to call it) to you. Two: you were his student. It may have been different if you were within the same ranks as him, but you were not. He was supposed to be your teacher, and there was no way that he would take advantage of his position of power over you if you were not willing.

He, too, was having doubts about this mission. Satoru almost asked Nanami if he would accompany the two of you for as long as it took, but there was too much going on for him to take any time off from his job, and Satoru was sure that it was just an excuse so that he didn’t have to tolerate him more than necessary anyways. So it was just you and him, alone in this house in this beautiful town.

The next day rolled along and you two had spent most of it investigating, talking to locals, etc. It was incredibly boring for him, though part of him felt incredibly proud that you were able to do everything on your own without any hiccup. You two had devised a plan for tomorrow to go after the curse directly from the source: a small cove near some cliffs by the beach. You would go at night and hopefully be able to catch it before it brought in any more deaths into the waves. 

He was so engrossed in his own head that he didn’t even realize you had walked up to him. 

“You promised we could go to the water afterwards,” You told him, hoping that you were jogging his memory from last night.

But you didn’t need to jog Satoru’s memory, because he had been thinking about it ever since you asked. Thinking about having to watch you submerge under the water and come back up, drops of clear blue dripping down your exposed shoulders, and keeping himself from doing something that he would most likely regret when you would reject him, scolding him for his thinking. He thought about the way he wanted to put his hands on your hips and pull you as close as you possibly could get to him, taking the opportunity to pepper kisses along your smooth skin. It killed him to think that you probably didn’t think the same way about him, it was going to goddamn tear him apart.

Nevertheless, he wasn’t going to go back on his promise to you. It was the least he could do after thinking such sinful things about you. Gojo gave you a nod and walked beside you on the short trail to the ocean from the house you were staying at. You could hear the water ripple towards the small shoreline, coming up and then receding back again in a timely fashion. You kicked off your shoes, deciding that your tank top and pants were okay to get wet, especially since you wouldn’t take the risk of undressing in front of Satoru. As much as the thought was tempting, you knew better than to test your luck. He watched with intensity as you got into the water, going deep enough to where only the tops of your shoulders and up were exposed. Fuck, he cursed himself, did you have to look so good barely doing anything?

You cocked your head to the side. “Well … are you going to get in or just stare at me?” You asked, immediately submerging yourself under the water to ignore what he had to say about your teasing. Your heart thumped profusely as you sat there under the water holding your breath. Satoru had been looking at you.

He mentally cursed himself once again, taking his shoes off and following you into the water. It did feel good, the water having an almost calming effect over him as he walked deeper in the lake. He looked around him, taking in the appearance of all the beautiful trees that lined up, beautiful fruit hanging off of the branches. Little flowers were along the bay, facing right towards him as if they were welcoming him to their home.

The sun spilled harsh rays along his skin, causing Gojo to dip his head down fully into the water. Once he came back up for air, his eyes shifted over to you, both of you holding a type of eye contact that you swore almost knocked your breath out. It was unlike anything you had ever experienced before, like he was looking right into your soul and you to his, a sense of desire burning a pit in your stomach. Feeling exposed, you shifted your gaze to the fish swimming in the water near you. You could still feel his eyes on you, in them holding truths that he wished to tell you, but being unable to put the words together to explain.

-

“There’s something that you’re not telling me.”

Your eyes opened at your Sensei’s voice and looked directly at him. You had been simply laying on your bed before sleeping, on your phone, trying to distract yourself with something dumb online before being able to sleep. You had only just closed your eyes as he walked in. At school they usually kept you on some kind of schedule, though here with Satoru, rules were a little - no, more loose than normal.

He once again stood in your doorframe, like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed in, like he didn’t feel like he had a place stepping into your bedroom. You searched his face to gauge a feeling for what he was talking about, looking for hints of mischief or anger. There was nothing, his face was completely blank, almost too blank like he was hiding something from you.

You knew you had nothing to hide — or at least nothing that he should know about. “I don’t know what you mean,” You replied, uncrossing your legs from their criss cross position and hugging them close to your chest. “Have I done something wrong?”

That answer seemed to not satisfy him, because for a moment something flickered in his eyes. “No, nothing like that,” He told you, furrowing his brows together under the mask and taking a tentative step closer into your room. “It’s just, I get this feeling when I’m around you. Like something is just gnawing at you and I can’t stop thinking about it.”

Oh, you were screwed. Alarms blared in your mind, thinking about how you had let your thoughts run too much during this trip. All the worst outcomes of this came to your mind, like how he would laugh at your growing feelings towards him, how much you wanted him almost shamelessly. It made your stomach twist into several knots, wanting to bury yourself into a hole and never ever come out of it again.

Your face must’ve told it all, because he spoke again, saying, “There. Right there. I can feel it, Y/N. Just talk to me. What is going on?” Your bottom lip quivered, knowing that there was no way you were getting out of this. This was it. The day you had been dreading and hoping didn’t come. Everything was about to come crash down onto your life.

“I can’t,” You said in a low voice, shifting your weight to sit at the edge of the bed, putting your head into your hands and staring down at the plush carpet in an attempt to get away from his stare. Almost as if you thought if you looked away long enough, he would suddenly disappear.

“What do you mean ‘you can’t’? You’re my student, you can tell me anything.”

Student. The title felt foreign in your mind now. It was something that you knew you couldn’t hold onto for much longer once the truth was out. You would be stripped of it and be a sorcerer no more. The school would hear of your feelings and immediately expel you. Student. Student. Student. The more the word bounced around in your mind the more you felt tears welling up into your eyes.

And you didn’t mean to sound so harsh when you said it, but your hands were balling up into fists as you said, “That’s what’s wrong!” Your head tilted up, seeing that Satoru had walked closer to you, towering over your frame. His face showed confusion, not understanding what you were alluding to. He didn’t even have to say it, but his expression was saying explain.

How could you even begin?

You were wordless.

“Please . .  . I just want to help you,” Gojo told you, his hand coming to grab onto your forearm. The touch felt like hot coals on your body, scorching your soul. “I don’t like seeing you like this.” Which you knew translated to I don’t like not knowing how to fix it.

“It’s you,” You confessed. “I can’t stop thinking about you.”

For a moment, Satoru thought that he had stepped into some parallel universe. Or that this was some sort of prank let on by someone else. There was no way that this was happening, you were confessing. You had been thinking about him, probably as much as he was thinking about you. It felt as if the world had turned on its axis and was spinning the opposite direction.

You, on the other hand, were waiting for the words that never came. You expected him to immediately tell you that he was going to report you to . . . oh you didn’t even know. And yet, he stood there, almost looking as dumbfounded as you did, maybe even more. This prompted you to stand up, his hand falling down and getting dangerously close to your own.

“I know …” You started again, seeing as he wasn’t going to say anything. “I know that it’s wrong, that I shouldn’t be thinking of you in the ways that I am. But I can’t stop, Satoru, you consume me.”

The usage of his name snapped him back to reality and out of his own spinning thoughts, and hearing it come from specifically your lips was not helping his frame of mind. It sounded … different coming from your mouth. Like you were saying it like a praise rather than just a passing phrase like most people did. He wanted you to say it over and over again, repeating it like a mantra you were to speak or you would die if you didn’t. His eyes flickered into your own and saw how scared you were of how he would react and how he was definitely not helping to settle your nerves.

In truth, he didn’t know how to handle this situation. After all, this was not a lesson that had been given to him and he was definitely not in the best place to tell you anything, since his emotions were starting to cloud his judgment and all he could think was how he wished to tell you he felt the same way.

You waited for his response, getting impatient and wanting to just get this over with. You were waiting for the words he was supposed to say.

But Satoru didn’t always do the things he was supposed to do, in fact, he almost never did the things that he was supposed to. So why would he think to start now?

“You and I both know that this isn’t allowed,” Satoru said. “And yet I can’t stop thinking about kissing you.”

A visible look of shock washed over your face, mouth opening slightly and eyes widening, heart pounding against your ribcage. His hand reached down and grabbed your own, fingertips softly touching the palm of your hand. This felt like a dream. Were you sure that you weren’t dreaming? No, this was definitely real. Satoru was in front of you for sure, confessing that he was feeling the exact same way.

Satoru tipped his head down to meet your own, his breath fanning along your face, making you shiver. Your breath hitched in your throat, his lips brushing against your own, almost like he was testing you. You could feel the tips of his hair tickling against your forehead, nose against nose. You were so close. The hand on your own was grasping now, pulling your body close to his. And the two of you sat there, lips millimeters close while each of your minds buzzed with the feeling of doing something so daring.

You felt yourself going mad, you couldn’t do it anymore. You couldn’t wait. All of your feelings erupted inside of your throat and suddenly you were kissing him, lips smashing against his own with no care in the world. You didn’t care about the ramifications, the school … anything. All you cared about was Gojo, wanting as much of him that he was willing to give you.

You had never really kissed anyone before. There was a moment back when you were only ten and you were with another student, seeing one of the citizens of Tokyo kissing each other on the street. Interested in what they were doing, you and your friend kissed, thinking that it was weird and dismissing it. That had been your first kiss, a rather embarrassing one, but it was nothing compared to the way Gojo kissed you. He kissed you like there was a purpose to every single move of his muscles. He kissed you like you were forbidden fruit and he was starving.

His other hand came up to the back of your neck, tangling in your hair and keeping your face close to his. For just a moment his tongue slipped into your mouth and you made a small sound, butterflies swarming in your stomach. You tried to mimic what he was doing, going with your instincts and grasping onto his bicep, feeling the taut muscles under your touch.

Everything about yours and his actions were needy and hungry, wanting each other with such need that you had pushed down for so long. All of it seemed to come out of you like crashing waves. The kissing was nice, though after a while you needed more, you were dying for more of him. Please, Satoru, you thought.

As if he could read your thoughts, he pulled away, a string of saliva the only thing connecting you two. “What do you want?” He whispered, tilting his head to the side and giving you one of those damn smirks of his. Of course he wanted you to say it. And you knew better than to not do what he wanted. 

“You, Satoru, I want you,” You whispered to him, as if someone was going to hear if you talked too loud. “Please.” You thought that you probably sounded like someone desperate, and in a way you were, you had waited for this forever and had convinced yourself that it would never happen. But he thought the exact opposite, he marveled in the way that you looked at him, wanting to show you how much you truly meant to him. The attraction and lust was there, intermingled with something more that neither of you dared to acknowledge.

He didn’t hesitate to give you what you wanted, slowly inching you towards the bed and helping you rest on your back, the silk sheets against the back of your arms and neck. Satoru was quick to follow, climbing on top of you and connecting his lips onto the skin right below your jaw. His lips were soft like snowflakes falling onto your skin, creating a masterpiece on your skin like you were his canvas. It all felt too good, the heightening the sensations to an almost unbearable amount. It sent shockwaves to your core, igniting a feeling you often only felt during the late hours of the night.

Seeing how well your body responded to him, well, almost drove Gojo crazy. You were so willing, so ready for him that his mind became cloudy, the only thing he could make out was his thoughts of you. His lips trailed down from your jaw to your neck, paying extra attention to the places that made you breathe out more than the others. He pressed a searing kiss to your pulse point, his teeth grazing the nerve and using his lips to suck a deep, purple mark into your skin. And then, when he felt it was the right time, he did it again and again, properly marking you as his. He didn’t care anymore. Your hands found their respective place in his hair, feeling the softness of the blond tufts between your fingers. It was so damn soft that you wondered how you had resisted the urge for so long before. 

Your clothes suddenly felt foreign on your body, you wanted them off, you wanted his off so that you could see all of him. He seemed to hear your thoughts, humming against your skin and pulling away, pressing a soft, firm kiss to your lips and helping you get out of them, and in turn you helped him get out of his.

Gojo’s body was like nothing you imagined. He was breathtaking. You knew that he had a nice body because of all the training and countless amounts of physical strain he has been through, but looking at those abs that he had, along with the sun kissed skin he had, you felt your throat close up, feeling inferior to what he looked like. “You’re beautiful, Y/N,” He said. “Don’t ever think that you’re not.” And you believed him.

His hands came to your hips, fingers toying with the fabric of your underwear that was the only thing blocking him from seeing you fully. His eyes scanned you, taking in the sheer and utter beauty before him. He wanted to kiss, lick, and nip on every single inch of skin on you. He wanted to learn each and every single curve, hear every story behind your scars, and know just what touches would have you squirming from underneath him. He wanted to know exactly where he had to kiss to get those sweet sounds out from you and he was sure that he could spend hours just doing that. 

No one has seen you this exposed before. You didn’t know whether or not to feel embarrassed, because he seemed to know what he was doing. You hadn’t felt the need to do anything like this with anyone else, not when you were too busy lusting over your teacher for so long. You didn’t want anyone to take that last bit of innocence from you except him, you were sure of it. And only now did you actually realize what was going to happen. Who was he to leave you pining and wanting, when you were basically offering your virginity up on a silver platter for him?

Your whole body felt hot, needing to feel the release that was beginning to build up from all of his kisses and your imagination running its course. “Satoru,” You breathed out, not knowing how to form into words what you wanted from him. Of course he knew, he could feel your hands pulling into his hair, all the while he began to whisper all the dirty little things that he wanted to do with you. How he wanted to keep you here all for himself, how he wanted to taste every single inch of you, and everything else that he could think about. After all, neither of you were hiding anything anymore. He knew exactly what he was going to do to you so that he could hear the plethora of moans that he knew you had just for him, wanting to hear his name come off of your lips in pleasure.

His head ducked down and kissed your hipbone, fingers hooking under your underwear and slowly sliding them off. Your eyes stayed on his actions, mouth forming into an ‘O’ when you realized what he was going to do. He was going to use his mouth on you. These were only things that you thought in your deepest, darkest fantasies, like he had reached into those parts of your mind and did exactly what you wanted.

As if Satoru was just tempting you, he pressed another slow kiss to the inside of your thigh and then did the same thing to the other side. Your hips lifted up only slightly, showing him that you couldn’t wait much longer. A chuckle left him, eyes reaching your own and saying, “Eager?” You weren’t even ashamed when you shook your head, keeping eye contact with him as he licked a bold stripe right up your slit. It felt as if an earthquake hit your body, your back arching and hands gripping onto his hair.

He hummed against you, liking the way that you responded to his actions. If he had it his way, he would sit here with you like this for hours on end, bringing you up to that high place again and again until you were a wrecked mess before him. It made him simply go crazy to think that he was the first person to ever do this to you, that he would be the first of anyone to hear those moans and profanities that slipped from your cherry kissed lips. Satoru’s own thoughts made him groan out, a noise that you played on repeat in your mind as your eyes screwed closed.

Your thighs quivered beside his face, attempting to squeeze shut so that you could keep him there forever. But his hands came and held them in place, fingers digging into your muscles that gave in to his touch like it was nothing. You were putty in his hands, the only movement you had was your hands pulling on his hair and the arch of your back while he lapped his tongue against you with no mercy.

“Stay still,” He told you, pulling away for a moment to lick what was left of you on his lips. You nodded, chest heaving and heart sinking at the loss of contact. But Satoru didn’t leave for long, his mouth on your clit accompanied with one of his fingers circling your entrance. You nearly lost it when he dipped his middle finger in experimentally, gauging your reaction. You could feel the coil in your stomach start to tighten, which only amplified once his finger pushed into you all the way.

You didn’t even attempt to try and censor the obscenities that came out of your mouth, mixed in rhyme with his name. Satoru. Satoru. Satoru. It was the only word that felt real in your mind.

You waited for that final jump towards a euphoric end, but it never came. Instead Satoru pulled away from you and his fingers left, making you feel uneasily empty. Opening your eyes, you saw that he was pulling down his boxers, taking his cock into his hands and watching as you almost became slack jawed - realizing what was about to happen. A moment of worry nestled its way into your mind, making your heart thump. If anyone was to find out, you would surely not be accepted back into the school. You would never be able to have Gojo again. It was your moment to choose. You knew that if you backed out, at least you would be able to work under him still and not have his affections. It would be better than never seeing him again. And yet, you couldn’t see your life without him, all of him. Not just the side that was your Sensei.

Satoru sensed your worry, taking your chin in his hands so that you looked up at him. “Are you sure?” He asked you, not wanting to move forward before you were ready. And God, were you ready. “Because once I start, I don’t think that I’m ever going to get enough of this pretty pussy.” 

And with all the courage that you mustered up, you gave him a small smile and said, “Yes.” You felt like you were flinging yourself off of some sort of cliff, or even more sinfully feeling like you were Persephone, cutting up her own slice of pomegranate and looking right into Hades eyes as she tasted the fruit, securing your fate that you would stay with him. You would stay with Satoru, even if it was only for this night.

He nestled between your legs and you could feel his tip press against your entrance. Air was caught in your lungs, sitting up on your elbows so that you could see as he eased himself into you. A sting of pain and a subtle feeling of pleasure was seated inside of you, watching as his cock was enveloped by you inch by inch. Satoru hissed at the feeling, you were so goddamn tight and he never wanted to stop from being inside of you. You looked down at where he was inside, thinking about how you could do this all day every day for the rest of your life. You now understood why this was so talked about, why your body craved it so much. Once all of him was inside, he leaned over so his head was in the crook of your neck, pressing a kiss to your searing skin as you adjusted to him bottoming out.

You urged him to continue, thinking that the discomfort would soon go away with time. And you were eager to get all of him that you could, temptation coming forward instead of reason. He pulled out all the way then eased himself back in, continuing the slower pace and watching your reaction before him, your hands reaching to his back and finding their place there. One of his hands kept your legs open, taking you by your thigh and hoisting it up.

It took all that he could muster to not just ram into you, the want starting to cloud his judgment. The cursed energy between the two of you felt as if it was pushing both you and him towards each other, the connection almost driving each of you crazy. “You feel …” He started. “You feel so good.” That alone, along with the raspiness in his voice, made a fire erupt in your stomach. You sighed in response, eyes fluttering closed once again.

And then, much to his surprise, you whispered, “Go faster, Satoru.” You needed him so bad you felt like you were going to explode, lust enveloping the both of you and intertwining with your energies.

He didn’t need to be told twice, and he gripped onto the leg he lifted up, beginning a slightly faster rhythm that had you arching your neck and back, eyes rolling to the back of your head. Satoru was so big, stretching you out in just the right way that had you almost keeling over if he hadn’t had such a tight grip on you. Your one leg wrapped along his waist, heel digging into his back while his pace increased.

This angle he had you in made you yelp and moan shamelessly, not caring if people all the way in the capital could hear you as you yelled his name like a prayer. His pace finally became a fast rhythm and you found comfort in being able to finally feel nothing but pleasure with every deep stroke he made.

In this place, it was only you and him. Like you were in your own little place of paradise where you could explore each other in every way. There was nothing that could take this moment from you or him, this moment would forever be engraved in your mind for many years to come, remembering the way that he moaned out your name and the way he looked when you opened your eyes to peek at his face. His brows were furrowed, sweat beading on his forehead and mouth spilled open saying nothing but your name.

He made you feel so good, so euphoric that the fire grew and grew, becoming a wildfire raging inside of you. And you looked so heavenly to him, the way that your eyes only looked at him, breasts bouncing with every harsh thrust he gave you. You took him so well, like you were made for only him. His hips brushed against your own, hand coming up to caress your cheek, forcing you to look him in the eyes. “I want to see you look at me when I fuck you,” he whispered, a deep sense of posessiveness suddenly washing over him. 

You weren’t going to last much longer. Not with the way that he was pounding into you with sheer force you didn’t know was possible until now. But you didn’t want this to end, you never wanted this to end in fear that things would go back to the way they were before. You would have to try and forget that this ever happened. It wasn’t something you wanted to do and didn’t even know if you had the strength to do it. After this moment both of you would be connected.

You made a guttural noise, teetering over the edge of what felt like a wave of bliss. This was it, there was no way that you could keep yourself from it now. It only took a singular deep stroke of his cock to send you right over the edge, your back arching and body spasming, his name rolling off of your tongue in the most sinful way you have ever said it before. Your hands gripped for any part of him that you could reach, groping his muscles to keep him close to you. He didn’t stop moving inside of you, making you ride it out even harder as he chased his own high. 

“Yeah? You came all over my cock like a good student, didn’t you?” 

You could only whimper in response. 

You were so sensitive as he fucked into you, giving you no mercy. He groaned as you came, watching the way that your eyes screwed shut and mouth opening in as you sucked in harsh breaths. You could feel his cock twitch inside of you and you knew that he was close, wondering if he was going to cum inside of you or pull out before he did. He did the latter, taking one more deep stroke before pulling out. Satoru was about to start stroking himself with his hand but you rushed with your own to meet him there, using your own and pumping a few times.

A string of profanities came from his lips as he came, white hot liquid spurting onto your stomach, dripping like beads coating your skin. He had no shame as he shuddered, muscles flexing with every passing second. He drank in your body, seeing how wet you were for him, how soft your hand was on his cock, how much he longed to see you like this more times before you and him left. And soon enough he was finished, the only thing between both of you was both of your panting breaths.

Satoru moved to grab something on the floor, realizing that it was the shirt he had on before and moving to wipe your stomach off, dropping it to the floor and coming to lay down next to you. You winced for a moment as you moved to look at him, his own eyes staring at the ceiling. You were scared of what was to come next, if there was anything that was supposed to come next. You knew that the two of you couldn’t be together, at least openly, though it was even risky to continue doing something like this in private.

“Satoru,” You called out to him, forcing him to look at you. “What will happen next?”

“I don’t know, Y/N, I don’t know,” He responded. All he knew was that he wanted you, again and again. In the domestic moments and in the explicit ones like before. You were so tantalizing, and he realized now that because he had tasted the forbidden fruit that was you, he would never be able to stop. There was simply no way that he would be able to conceal his want for you from you anymore.

You waited for his answer, knowing that it would probably be one you didn’t want to hear. But for the second time this evening, Satoru surprised you again.

He leaned over and kissed you.

And you knew his answer from that.

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk #jjk x reader smut #gojo smut #gojo satoru #satoru smut #satoru x reader #gojo saturo x reader #gojo x reader #gojo x reader smut #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #satoru x you

[writeonwhiskey]

the skz house: ch 16 (18+)

a/n: see, i didn't keep you waiting that long this time. thank you to @bahablastplz for editing!

[ read chapter fifteen here ]

Chapter Sixteen: Of Cuffs and Chan

A wave of embarrassment washes over you—drenches you. You had intentions of being drenched tonight, just not like this. You feel the heat in you rising to your face as your eyes begin to prickle. Chan has now walked out of a room twice to get away from your advances. You have never presumed to be some expert level seductress, but him thwarting your attempts and leaving you alone with your thoughts feels soul crushing.

This was a terrible idea.

How could you have been so incredibly mistaken to think this would work? You have to get up, get out of this room. You hope Chan has at least left the hallway. You don’t want to see him when you leave. You can’t face him again tonight.

You try to blink away the tears, but a few fall down your cheek anyway. You look to the nightstand where you left the key, previously having hoped if he saw fit to uncuff you at some point he could because you obviously can’t do it yourself. You should have read the back of the packaging. It mentioned something about a safety release button. You sit up on the bed, angling your head to inspect the cuffs through your water-blurred gaze. There are enough chain links connecting the cuffs that you have a bit of slack to bring it closer to you.

The sound of the door opening again draws your attention away from the handcuff debacle. You want to be stubborn, to keep your eyes focused on the handcuffs and not turn to see who it is. You wouldn’t put it past him to send Hyunjin to take you away at this point. You’d be mortified for him to see you like this, cuffed and crying.

The door closes and your curiosity gets the best of you. You turn your head slightly and see that it’s Chan. His face is hardened, unreadable. Your heartbeat immediately quickens, but you’re not put at ease by his return.

You sit up straight, back against the headboard, arms hanging above your head and knees still pressed firmly together. You suddenly become aware of the tears on your face and avert your eyes to your knees. You don’t want him to see you like this. Why had you opted for the handcuffs? Now you can’t even wipe the stupid tears from your face.

You sniffle as his footsteps approach, stopping next to you. His room isn’t small by any means, but it feels so tiny now. His presence fills up every square inch. You silently plead with him to say something, anything to drown out the deafening sound of your loudly thumping heart.

You take a deep breath, trying to find all the courage that was within you moments ago as you slowly lift your head to look at him. You could be wrong, but there is a slight softness to his gaze. Hardly noticeable to an untrained eye.  

“If you uncuff me, I can leave,” you say quietly, jerking your head towards his nightstand where the key is. His eyes flit over to it, then back to you.

He remains silent as he takes a closer look at you, eyes roaming over your body. They linger on your exposed breasts before trailing down your lace covered torso and stop at your knees. He leans to the side, head tilted to peek at the gap between your legs. Without any underwear, your pussy is exposed. He lets out a puff of air at the sight.

“Why would I want to do that?” He asks in a low voice.

From his reaction—coming back, staring at you like this, saying he doesn’t want you to leave…that must mean there’s still a chance. At this point, though, you don’t even know what you really want to use the chance for. To win the competition or just to let him have his way with you.

You rock your hips upwards once and his tongue snakes out, licking at the corner of his mouth. He stands up straight and takes a step forward so he’s standing right next to you.

He reaches out with his other hand, gently cupping your face and wiping away the tears on your cheek with the pad of his thumb. You turn your head into his hand and close your eyes, submitting to his touch. You have the sudden urge to word vomit, to tell him how badly you want him, how much you’ve missed him, how you don’t care about the competition—he can fuck you and you won’t tell anyone. You’ll stay so, so quiet that no one will hear anything. You’ll tell everyone your plan failed just please, please don’t stop touching you.

“I haven’t even touched you yet,” he says, “and look what you do to me, y/n.” He grips his growing bulge through his jeans.

You feel the tiniest bit of relief dousing your worries.

“Do you wanna feel it?” He asks.

You nod eagerly in response.

He grabs the key to the handcuffs from the nightstand and makes quick work of releasing one of your hands. He takes your free wrist in his hand and guides it to the top of his jeans. You fumble with the button, all anxious, excited and nervous at the same time, but eventually slip it through the hole. As you tug down on his zipper, he takes off his hoodie and tosses it to the ground.  

You cautiously slip your hand through the opening in his jeans and cup his dick in your hand. When you give a squeeze, his hand grabs your wrist again, stopping your movements. It was a short-lived freedom but you enjoyed it, nonetheless.

He raises your arm back above your head and slips your hand back into the cuff. He trails his fingers down your wrist, down your arm, down your neck, back and forth across your collarbone, then down some more. The trail he leaves behind makes you burn with desire—your nipples harden just from this light touch and you press your knees together even harder.

“This outfit? The handcuffs? Why?” He asks, stopping his hand just above your breast.

“To fully offer myself to you,” you say slowly. “To relinquish complete control.”

“Is that something you actually want to do?” He counters, hand still hovering above your breast. You want him to touch it so badly. “Or is it just to bring an end to the competition?”

“The first one,” you reply, squirming on the bed, yearning for his touch now that it’s so close to actually happening. “I want to do this with you, not for you or because of the challenge.”

And it’s the truth. In this moment you don’t give a damn about winning anything.

His hand skips over your breast. He brushes the back of his fingers along the lace covering your torso, up your thighs, over your knees, down your legs and you can’t keep still. He skirts around the off-limit areas, so you don’t know what he’s playing at.

His hand leaves you and goes to his pants. He pulls them down along with his boxers, kicking them both aside. At the sight of his cock springing out, you lick your lips in anticipation. It almost feels unreal. This is the closest you’ve been all month, and you want to touch it, taste it, clench around it while it’s inside of you.

“What am I gonna do with you?” He asks as he grips his cock in his left hand.

It sounds like a loaded question. What is he gonna do with you in this current predicament? Or in general?

“Whatever you want,” you say, licking your lips again, watching him hold his cock. How can he make you feel jealous of him? You want to be the one doing that. You want to touch and please every part of him you’ve been deprived of for weeks.

“Hmm,” he hums, stroking himself while he reaches out to caress your exposed skin again with his right hand—still steering clear of the forbidden zones. “I never really cared much about the competition, you know.”

“Chan,” you whisper, unable to tear your gaze away from his cock and hand at work, desperate to take on the burden for him.

“Not about winning, anyways,” he continues, fingertips grazing across your body, “It’s more about keeping a firm line between me and my assignee. To make it clear that I don’t need them…don’t need you.”

You look up at him, trying to focus on what he’s saying rather than the way your body is aching for him.

“When this ends…it ends. And normally it’s not an issue,” his tone remains calm, almost warm, as he speaks. “But look at you, y/n.”

His hand finally lands on your breast, gripping it firmly in his palm, squeezing as it slips through his fingers until he has hold of just your nipple. He pinches it, twisting slightly. You gasp softly, arching your back.

“You’re fucking perfect,” he declares.

You could squeal, you could cry, you could fucking die of happiness from his admission. You open your mouth to speak, to beg, but he lets go of your nipple and rests his hand on your knee. He releases his cock and shakes his head.

“Are you trying to ruin me?”

A look of confusion takes over your features at the question. Why would he think that? If anything, you should be asking him that.

“No,” you shake your head, pure innocence radiating from you at the accusation. “I would never.”

His lip twitches and a smirk appears for a split second before he regains his composure. He’s in his element now, enjoying teasing you. His hand on your knee slides down the inside of your thigh, eyes locked on yours. Your body responds immediately, hips jerking as he moves closer and closer to your center.

“You make me feel like I’m going to lose it—go insane,” he says as his hand reaches your pussy. “Do you feel it too?”

He uses his pointer and ring finger to spread your lips apart, stroking between your folds with his middle.

It’s impossible to concentrate on what he’s saying when you finally have him touching you again. You certainly know what he’s done to make you feel like you’re losing it…but what have you done to him?

Before you have a chance to respond, he removes his hand. Without a word, he turns and walks to the bathroom. You watch him, wanting to scream for him to come back to you, to keep touching you.

He walks straight to shower and turns it on. He doesn’t even wait for the water to warm up before stepping in.

He’s going to leave you like this?

Of course he is.

You could find the release button on the handcuffs and leave, but you won’t. This is what he wants from you, and this is what you want to give. Your obedience. So, you stay put, sliding your legs against each other to create some kind of friction between them in the meantime.

You’re not sure how long passes before the water turns off. It doesn’t seem like he wanted to intentionally drag out his time in the shower. Your eyes are on him as soon as he steps out. You watch as he grabs a towel and dries off. You chew on your bottom lip, wondering if he’s going to put on clothes and just sleep with you here next to him like this. Now that you would not be in to. Or would you?

He starts walking towards you, naked, toned, fucking chiseled as he dries his hair. His cock is still hard, and you can only imagine what kind of scenarios were playing out in his head as he showered to keep it that way.  He stops at your side once again, his fresh and clean aroma filling your senses.

He hooks a finger under your chin, tilts your head up, then leans down to kiss you. Just a quick peck. His hand slides around to the back of your neck, lightly stroking the nape before pulling you forward. He grips his cock with his other hand and you part your lips, eager to take him in your mouth.

“Is this what you want?” he asks as he stops pulling you forward, gently wagging his cock in front of you. Like he’s teasing his pet with a treat.

“Yes. Please,” you reply, damn near salivating.

“Please what?”

He pushes his hips forward to close the distance, rubbing the tip of his dick from one side of your chin to the other, stopping just beneath the middle of your bottom lip.

“Please fuck my face, Chan.” You say, looking up at him.  

He pats your cheek and nods. To your surprise he then steps up onto the bed and stands directly over you, feet on either side of you. Now this is a fucking view.

“Open.”

You drop your jaw. Your range of motion is severely limited, being cuffed to the bed and all, so he takes it from there. You swirl your tongue around the tip as he slowly slides it in while groaning, then side to side along the bottom as he goes in further. You’ve missed the taste of him is all you can think.

He stops about two-thirds of the way in and you use the opportunity to take a deep breath, exhaling through your nose. He strokes your cheek with the back of his hand, gazing down at you as if he’s trying to save the image of your mouth stuffed with his cock to memory.

He pushes forward a little more then withdraws, moving faster each time he repeats the process. You bob your head forward, as much as you can, to meet his thrusts. You focus on keeping your jaw and throat relaxed, meanwhile you’re unable to control the sounds coming from your mouth.

“Fuck, y/n,” he groans, gripping your hair with one hand as he furiously fucks your face.

You don’t want to imagine how you look—deepthroating Chan, all the saliva that’s built up and spilling out of your mouth and around his dick. It doesn’t sound like a pretty sight, but he seems to enjoy it.

He starts grunting and groaning as he thrusts and suddenly pulls away from you.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He releases your hair and steps back before getting on his knees, essentially straddling you, dick hovering just above your stomach. He rests his head on your shoulder, breathing heavily. He must have just narrowly stopped himself from coming, is your guess.

“Chan,” you say his name softly.

He turns to look at you, raising a hand to wipe the dribble around your mouth.

“Hmmm?”

“Please touch me,” you try your best to sound like you’re not whining as you rub your legs together.

“Where?”

“Anywhere.”

“Here?” he asks, wrapping his hand around your neck, squeezing it.

You moan in response.

He leans forward to capture your lips, kissing you deeply. His tongue invades your mouth, greedily lapping up the taste of himself on you. You kiss him back, your head slowly following his lead, tilting from left to right as he does the same.

His teeth graze your bottom lip, tugging on it as he pulls away from you. His eyes lock with your for a moment, feeling like less of a mystery than ever before, but you could just be delusional at this point.

He slides back on your legs and rearranges himself until he’s lying flat on his stomach. He hooks your legs over his shoulders and gets comfortable.  

“Incredible,” he says while looking at your pussy.

“Yeah?” You ask, uncertain.

“Fuck yes,” he replies with a curt nod.

He moves his face directly between your legs and takes a deep breath, inhaling your scent. He nuzzles your pussy with his nose, circling the outside of your lips. You tug on the restraints around your wrists, cursing yourself once more for choosing this particular set up. You want to run your fingers through his damp curls, over his broad shoulders, down his back. But you can’t do any of that.

All you can do is watch. In fucking awe at his uninhibited actions.

He slides his nose up your slit, making it glisten with your slick. You can’t help but shake your legs and thrust your hips forward. He lowers his head again, as if to repeat the same move, but this time his tongue slips out and follows his nose. He laps at you playfully, eliciting moans and silent pleas from you.

When he finally takes you in his mouth completely you gasp. He wastes no time then, licking, sucking, slurping your most sensitive parts. He readjusts himself to slide three fingers inside of you, eyes locked on yours as he does.

“So fucking tight,” he breathes.

You rest your head against the headboard and resist the urge to let your eyes roll into the back of your head. You can’t look away.

“You like my fingers inside of you, y/n?”

“I do,” you nod.

“Filling you up,” he continues, curling his fingers against your walls each time he withdraws. “You’re so fucking wet for me, aren’t you?”

“Chan,” you say his name as a warning as your arch your back.

He stops talking and puts his mouth back to work. He keeps fucking you with his fingers while he sucks on your clit.

“I’m. Gonna. Come,” you manage to get out between panting.

He doesn’t acknowledge your statement; doesn’t make you ask for permission and you take that as a sign to let go. You rock your hips against his fingers and face as you come, biting your bottom lip to keep from being too loud but it doesn’t work. You don’t know what time it is or if anyone can hear.

Chan keeps at it until you start squirming your hips away from his touch.

He chuckles as he resurfaces, nose and mouth glistening. He takes his fingers out of you, spreading them apart and watching as your juices stretch between them. He reaches forward, offering them to you. You open your mouth to accept, circling your tongue around them clockwise, greedily cleaning each digit.

When he takes his fingers out, he sits up, positioning himself so the back of your thighs rest on the front of his, legs hanging on either side of him. His eyes dance across your body again, hands moving up to grip your breasts. He kneads them, pinching the nipple each time he gets to the top.

“Can I keep you here like this?” He asks teasingly, a playful glint in his eyes.

You don’t trust yourself to respond. You’d say yes, and you don’t know if he’s serious or not, but you wouldn’t put it past him.

“What am I gonna do with you?” He says again to your silence.

“Fuck me,” you suggest.

He lets out a breath, trailing one hand down your torso, scratching at the fabric of your lingerie with his nails. His hands start moving you, turning you onto your side then once more until you’re on your stomach. The chain between the handcuffs become twisted, restricting your hand movements even further. He grips your hips and pulls you up until you’re on your knees. He holds you in this position, pressing himself against you and rocking his hips forward.

He leans down over you, his chest against your back and it’s so fucking warm. You close your eyes at the feeling of him covering you. His right hand releases your waist to prop a pillow up in front of you to lean against. It’s these little details that remind you and allow you to see how thoughtful he can be. Granted, it’s while he’s having his way with you, but on some level he’s still concerned with your comfort.

He kisses along your shoulder blades, to your neck and stops at your ear.

“Bite the pillow,” is his whispered command.

You shiver and hold onto the headboard for dear life. His right hand grips your shoulder while the other remains at your hip. You feel him shift around behind you until his dick is positioned right against your opening. He grips your shoulder as he enters you and a long, slow moan escapes your lips.

His hand on your shoulder moves to your neck, forcing you down towards the pillow.

“Bite,” he repeats.

You open your mouth and clamp your teeth around the pillow in front of you as Chan starts to relentlessly plow into you from behind.

The pillow serves its purpose, suppressing the loud sounds you’re making as he fucks you. He slams into you quick and fast at first, resting inside for a moment before pulling out and slamming right back in. Then he picks up the pace, thrusting in and out at his own rhythm, releasing your hip to slap your ass every so often before gripping it again to force you back against him.

Your face is contorted against the pillow, and you don’t even care that you’re drooling all over it with your mouth clamped around it.

“Can you come for me again?” He asks, reaching around with his hand to rub your clit between your legs.

The way Chan is making you feel is insurmountable. Pussy dripping, walls stretched with him inside of you. And it’s been so long. Too long. You give a nod and he pulls out all stops, the sound of your thighs smacking against each other echo throughout the room accompanied by your muffled moans.

Your pussy clenches around him as you come. You bend down even lower, arching your back and bouncing your hips against his as you do.

“Fuck yeah. Take it,” he groans. “Make it yours.”

Encouraged by his words you thrust back against him even harder, gripping onto the headboard for leverage. You lift your head and release the pillow from your mouth, tossing your hair back over your shoulder. Chan seizes the opportunity to grip your hair in his hands, forcing your head upwards as you keep fucking him.

He starts meeting your thrusts, one hand on your hip pulling you back against him with all his might. You feel him tense up behind you and he quickly withdraws. In an instant you feel his warm release coating your back. He groans with each spurt that pours out of him.

He smacks your ass once more for good measure before allowing you to collapse onto the bed—as much as you can with your hands still cuffed. He takes a foot off the bed and leans over to grab something before you feel him wiping his come off your back. He then grabs the key to the cuffs and unlocks each wrist. You twirl them around and stretch each finger once they’re free.

You didn’t know before how much you needed that. Needed him. You wonder, for a brief moment, if the closeness you shared will go away now. Will he stop talking to you and sharing things about his life now that he can just fuck you and call it a day again?

He splays out on the bed, laying on his back as he catches his breath.

“I lost,” he announces.

“Are you upset?” You ask, turning on your side to face him.

“Upset?” He repeats. “No…concerned? Maybe.”

You feel like you could ask him to explain that more and he would. But you don’t, you’re afraid of the answer. A part of you wants to remain in this delusion. Though the Fall semester is coming to an end, you still have the Spring semester to get through. You don’t want to acknowledge or even think about what the end of the school year will mean for the bonds you’ve built with Chan, Hyunjin, and the others.

Not right now.

You scooch over closer to him.

“Is this okay?” You ask—meaning, should I go back to my own bed?

He’s silent for a few seconds, but then his arm wraps around you, pulling you even closer.

“Do you want to take that off?” He asks, pulling at the strap of your lingerie.

“Are you tired of looking at it?”

“Nah,” he says. “You could wear that every fucking day and I wouldn’t get tired of seeing you in it. You look amazing.”

You’ve never heard so many compliments from him in one sitting. You snuggle up closer to him, hooking one leg over his. You stifle a yawn as your adrenaline levels return to normal, reminding you of the long weekend and even longer day you’ve had.

“Chan?”

“Hmmm?”

“Thank you,” you whisper.

He chuckles loudly at that. The sound enters your ear against his chest and fills you with a foreign warmth. As much as you worry that his guard will go back up, you’re growing even more terrified of him bringing it down and letting you in.

On the 1st of December, Lee Know is crowned champion. He abstained—much to Allie’s chagrin. She swears she’ll never offer anal sex to him again since he wanted to be so stubborn.

The other members congratulate you with literal pats on the back and head as if you’ve accomplished something major. Chan seems to take it all in stride. He doesn’t seem embarrassed or ashamed that he lost in the slightest. He woke up the next morning and wrote his name on the board before you both headed to class together.

You, Charlotte, and Rhiannon have won your trips. Wherever you want to go. As you mull it over the next couple days, you decide to use it for winter break, knowing your parents won’t be home.

Lee Know also just so happens to be in charge of getting everything coordinated for you.

“You get to take one member,” he advises you, sitting next to you on the sofa as he absentmindedly scrolls through the TV channels.

“That I’m assigned to?”

“Any, really but…I guess it would be awkward if you took someone else.” He says with a smirk. “Is this your way of asking me to come with you?”

You arch an eyebrow before rolling your eyes. Though you’ve gotten even, you still haven’t forgiven him for teasing you.

“Absolutely not.”

“Well then.” He shrugs. “Your loss. But I need to know the name of who you’re taking to book flights.”

“Hyunjin,” you say without missing a beat.

The thought of spending winter break on a warm, sunny beach sounds amazing. Did you just have an unforgettable night with Chan? Yes. But you want to enjoy your time on vacation and not be fraught with worry or second guessing everything you do. You know Hyunjin will put you at ease in every way possible.

“You might want to run that by him,” he replies. “I think he’s planning to go back to Seoul.”

You rack your brain for any conversation you’ve had with him recently where it was mentioned but can’t come up with any. The boy hates making plans so much he can’t even remember when he actually has them. He’s lucky he’s so fucking adorable.

“What if they both are? Can I go alone?”

“This trip is funded by our allowances,” he explains, “You have to go with one of us. Maybe choose different dates?”

You scrunch up your face at the thought. You had your heart set on this impromptu Christmas vacation.

“Talk to Hyunjin and Chan, then let me know.”

You nod and stand from the couch.

“Y/N?” He calls out to you as you start to walk away. You turn back around to face him. “Tread lightly.”

“What do you mean?” You ask, confused.

“Chan has never lost this competition before and I don’t know what’s going on between you two but…there’s only one way for this to end.”

“And how is that?”

“With you on your own,” he shrugs. “Chan, Hyunjin—none of us can have any contact with you after the school year is over. I don’t want to see anyone get hurt. Especially Chan.”

You’re puzzled at his frankness. Lee Know cares? About anything? But also, you don’t think Chan is capable of hurting. He can be wounded, sure, and lash out. But hurt? Like, actually feel feelings? And because of you? No way.

But as you think back to the night you got him to break…maybe his façade is failing him. Maybe his walls are coming down. Well, fuck. That’s what you’ve always wanted and now you’re not sure if it’s such a good idea or not. You have no doubt he’ll do what he’s supposed to when this is all over—leave you. But what will you do? Can you move on from both him and Hyunjin without ever looking back?

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you tell him before turning back around and walking towards the stairs.

Yes, you will keep it in mind. In the furthest, deepest corner of your mind. Right now, you want to focus on enjoying the time you have left with both of them.

a/n: a lot to unpack there. hope you enjoyed! like, comment & reblog to show your support. i am working on the next chapter already, however next week i'm having all the carpet in my house replaced with wood flooring and am not sure how much time i'll have to write with all that chaos going on.

taglist: @iflmho / @stayatinykatsy / @blackhairandbangs / @ayoitschannie / @idunnomanmynamewastaken / @charmer-c / @ihatemen55 / @channniesslefttt / @jiwoos-babygirl / @krayzieestay / @kayleefriedchicken / @sunnyhonie / @cotton-candycloudz / @lubsungie / @conwunder / @puckmaidens / @ashleighland / @hyunjiinnnn / @bmnyy / @ihrtlix / @maqqiekwon / @teti-menchon0604 / @you-make-skz-stay / @zandra-42 / @seungminindabuilding / @slytherinatheart / @loveuwoo / @hyunjinhoexxx / @chartrucewhore / @torothecatt / @fun-fanfics / @yaorzu-blog / @yjeonginlvr / @tenshimara / @a-person-with-void / @ilovetheworldilivein / @dhillomilo / @skzfelixlove / @luvvvash / @blondechannie / @sailor--sun / @stephanieeeyang / @msauthor / @grlcbrd / @bangtancultsposts / @jenniferlr / @hynxnelly / @kpop-kink / @okkkcausewhet /

#stray kids fanfic #skz fanfic #stray kids fanfiction #stray kids #bangchan fanfic #bang chan #skz smut #bang chan imagines #the skz house #bang chan smut #bang chan x reader #bang chan x you #bang chan x y/n #skz x reader #stray kids smut #skz x y/n #skz x you #skz imagines

[sentientcave]

Retirement Party

Chapter 4 - Runaway

<<First Chapter - < Prev Chapter -

Contains: No Y/N, Kidnapping, Forcible relocation, Dubcon, Plus-sized reader, female reader, Poorly thought out action sequences, Guns, There is something fucking wrong with these guys for real, More reader details given, but we're still pretty vague about it. Even though it is hard for me. No promises for future chapters though I might even tell y'all her name.

~3.8k - MDNI - Dark fic! Please mind the content warning above

You wake in the morning with your nose buried in a thick patch of chest hair, and strong arms around you. Your legs are hooked around one of his thick thighs, and something hard digs into your stomach. You start to inch away, but his arms tighten, and his hips cant against you, a thick, sleepy groan rumbling in his chest. It would be a nice way to wake up, if not for the circumstances. It’s been ages since you slept beside another person, let alone someone that feels as comfortable as John does.

“John,” you say softly. You don’t want to fully wake him up, just get him to let you go. “John, please let me go.”

He hums, one hand sliding to your waist, and then down to your hip, pulling you closer, grinding you against his thigh. You squeak in protest, becoming aware that you’re already wet, like you’ve been unconsciously humping his leg in your sleep for some time. You push your slightly freer top half away a little, so you can look at him. He’s still sleeping, a little frown on his face as he’s pulled unwillingly toward consciousness. He really is handsome, especially like this, all his defences down, grumbling like a hibernating bear.

“Don’t wake up,” you tell him, as if it’ll make any difference. “I just have to pee.”

One of his blue eyes cracks open, a little unfocused. “You comin’ back?” His voice is rough from sleep, rasping like sandpaper.

“Sure,” you say, even though you have no intention of doing so. Your body seems as eager as his is for something you’re sure is dangerous. Maybe he smells good, like tobacco, warm, boozy spices and something undeniably male, and maybe he feels warm and solid against you, but you don’t want to encourage this. You just want to enough space to clear your head. His admissions last night still have you spooked, John’s words not tempered by a night of surprisingly good sleep. “I’ll just be a minute.”

He loosens his hold on you enough that you can wiggle free, his eyes opening a little more so he can watch you slip out of bed. He rolls over onto his back, and starts snoring gently before you’ve even made it to the bedroom door. You take the opportunity to snag one of the bags stacked in front of the closet and your purse off the dresser and bring both to the bathroom with you. You’re not sure what’s in the bag, but you know the larger suitcase has things from your closet in it, so you’re hoping this one has more from your dresser.

You get dressed, glad that most of your underthings and a comfortable pair of jeans and a thick sweater are inside and pack your toothbrush and makeup bag into the larger one, and creep downstairs carefully. One of them is snoring gently on the couch, but otherwise, the house is silent. You carefully fish a set of keys off the hooks by the door and sneak outside. You don’t know where any of your shoes are except the red heels, so you just leave in your sock feet, and pile your things into the pick-up truck. You’ll drive it into town and leave it there, buy a ticket on a train or a bus, and get the hell back home.

It sucks to have to leave everything you own, beyond the clothes in the one bag and the contents of your purse, but maybe you can call the cops— Well. Probably not. Better to just start over anywhere else. You have digital copies of a few pictures of your parents, and that’s better than nothing, even if their wedding album is sitting on a shelf in John’s living room, along with all the family photos that your parents took of you and them while you were growing up. Your mother’s sketchbooks too, and her camera, and your dad’s guitar.

You bite your lip, holding back tears, and start the truck.

No sense mourning things. The memories are in your head and your heart, not trapped in the pages of books or twisted into the strings of the guitar. You don’t need them.

You haven’t driven in a long time, and the truck, unfortunately, is a manual, which you haven’t driven in even longer, but you manage to pull away from the house without revving the engine too hard, and pick up speed once you get to the road, only just remembering to hit the clutch with your left foot before you change gears. You’d feel pretty pathetic if you only made it to the road before stalling out the pickup.

You’re not sure which way town is, but you figure the road has to lead somewhere no matter which way you choose, so you navigate blindly, turning onto a bigger road a little ways down the gravel one that leads to John’s house. Bigger road means more people, although the hour is still so early that there’s no one around yet. The sun is barely up, and it’s still shadowy in the woods on either side of the road. The woods give way to fields suddenly, the sun making a too-bright debut, shining right into your eyes. You flip down the visor and adjust the rear-view mirror, wincing when you see a blue car a ways behind you, approaching fast.

You didn’t notice the car when you were leaving— It must have been parked behind the bigger van that they’d used to move all your things— but it looks sporty and fast, and judging by the way it closes the gap, there’s no question that it’s them. You push the truck harder, squinting against the light, heart hammering. The car’s engine roars, loud enough that you can hear it over the blood rushing in your ears, and pulls into the lane beside you. Gaz motions for you to pull over from the passenger seat.

You slow up enough that they pull ahead a little, and you yank your steering wheel to the side and stomp down on the gas and the clutch, shifting into third gear and nailing the side of the car, shattering a tail light and making it spin, stopping just shy of the ditch.

For a moment, you’re still close enough to see the shock on their faces, but you’re moving fast and leave them in the dust, at least momentarily. It won’t take them long to recover and catch up again, and if they hit you with the same maneuver, there’s no way you’ll be able to get the truck under control. There’s not enough weight in the bed of the truck to compensate, and you’ll wind up in the ditch for certain.

Funny, how it comes back to you. Learning to drive along mountain roads way outside Aberdeen, either in your dad’s little car or your mom’s old truck (usually the car, which was the easier one to drive. Your dad was the safer driver too, the better parent to learn from), and you can almost imagine your mother in the passenger seat, laughing her head off at the insane circumstances, encouraging you to throw caution to the wind, to get a feel for the road under the wheels and the way the old truck handled. She always laughed when she was under stress, but it’s comforting to think of. Your mum would never let a couple of thick-headed military assholes get the better of her.

The car is catching up again, so you floor it and smash through a fence gate into a muddy field, where the car won’t handle as well, and speed your way across the stubbly remains of wheat, already harvested. The car follows, and, predictably, struggles, the low frame too close to the muck, bumping unhappily over the soft, uneven ground.

Laughter bubbles up in your chest, relieving some of the built-up anxiety. You smash through a segment of the fence on the other side and yank the truck back onto the road, giggling when the truck fishtails a bit, mud slicking the tires on the pavement. There’s so much adrenaline coursing through your system that you feel like you might be sick the moment you let any of this catch up with you. So you keep driving, and pray that it doesn’t.

The car gets close again when you reach another wooded section of road. Through the rearview mirror you can see Gaz pop out of the window, gun drawn, but you don’t hear the crack when it fires, you only feel the impact when the bullet strikes one of the rear tires. You shriek, slamming on the breaks as the truck spins out of your control and off the road, slamming into a tree head on.

The lurch forward as the airbags deploy, your body hitting them hard, knocking all the air out of your lungs as you’re slapped back into he seat. The seat belt bites into your shoulder painfully. You unbuckle yourself quickly, ears ringing too loudly for you to hear the screeching tires of the pursuit car. You fall to the ground when you try to get out, head spinning.

You stumble into the trees, still blinking away double vision. If you can find a good spot to hide— Maybe you can double back and take the car while they chase you blindly through the trees. You cast about, feeling every rapidly forming bruise, wishing desperately that you had shoes, and dive into the underbrush, scooting forward on your belly, brambles catching in your hair as you curl up, out of sight.

“Please come out, doll,” you hear Gaz call out, boots crunching through the woods, closer than you would like. “It’s okay, we’re not mad. Just come out and we’ll take you home, yeah?”

Johnny is yelling further off, his voice incomprehensible but sing-song, mocking. Gaz moves further into the woods. You wait until his voice grows a little more distant before you drag yourself back out, sweater streaked with mud, leaves in your hair, and quickly sneak back to the road. The car is still running, the driver door left open. You breathe a sigh of relief.

“There you are, bird.”

You scream. A gloved hand drops over your mouth, cutting off the sound, and an arm loops around your waist, picking you right up off your feet.

Fuck.

"Look what you did, bird. Wrecked up Price's truck. 'E's not goin' to be 'appy about that." He turns so you can see the slightly smoking truck, the front half of it crumpled beyond repair.

You shake your head until he pulls his hand away from your mouth. "Its not my fault I crashed. Gaz shot the tire out. I wasn't even going to steal it, just leave it in town once I'd gotten to a bus stop."

He hums. You hear the slight crackle of a radio. "Got 'er, lads. Come back to the car."

"Rog."

"Aye."

Ghost shoves you into the back seat. "Stay put," he says sternly. "You're already banged up, don't want to 'ave to tackle you."

You sigh, all the fight leaving you. You feel awful, bruised and shaken up and trembling, and you do nothing but watch as Ghost gathers your things from the truck and puts them in the boot of the car. You slump back in the seat, inspecting the scratches on your hands idly. Your head hurts, and your shoulder aches, and you feel a bit like you've been stepped on, but nothing feels broken, just bruised and tender. You got lucky.

Well, not lucky. There's very little about any of this that counts as luck. Especially considering the look on Johnny's face when he jogs out of the trees. At first he looks stormy, but he grins when he sees you and opens the back door to crawl onto the seat and on top of you.

"Steamin Jesus, where'd ye learn ta drive like tha'?" He asks. "Didnae ken ye were a racer."

"Outside Aberdeen," you reply. Your ribs hurt. Soap’s weight makes every little ache more acute.

"Price isn't gonna be happy about his truck," Gaz says, tossing himself into the driver's seat. "What were you thinking, doll? You could've been hurt."

"You didn't have to shoot the tire." You try to push Soap off, but he wraps himself around you, a bit tight, but bearably so. You’re trembling, and he’s trying to help, in a thoroughly unhelpful way. "I was just trying to get home."

"That's the wrong way. Your home's with Price now." Ghost gets into the other front seat, and Gaz reverses back out onto the road.

You sigh, leaning your head against the window, watching the countryside flash by. It takes an embarrassingly short time to get back to John's house. You didn't get as far as you would have liked, hardly got anywhere at all. Your eyes prickle with tears, but you don't want to cry in front of them. You want to go back to bed, maybe back in time to the morning. You would have been wiser just to curl up next to John again.

Soap drags you from the car, hands a bit rough on your bruises, and pulls you back to the house. John rushes out, worry creasing his face, blue eyes sweeping over you and turning furious. "What happened?" he barks, not at you, but at his men.

"Bird was makin' a run for it," Ghost says.

"Wrecked your truck," Gaz adds.

"That's not my fault!" you protest. "You shot at me!" You glare at him, frustrated tears overflowing down your cheeks. It’s like they have no idea what kind of stress they’ve put you through.

"Woah, woah, c'mere, doll." John pulls you against his chest, wrapping strong arms around you, stilling some of the tremble in your limbs. "You broken?"

You shake your head, leaning into him, gripping his t-shirt tightly. You breathe in raggedly, trying to steady yourself.

"Lads. Why did you shoot at her?"

"Trying to stop the truck."

"She's a civilian you muppets. I take it that the truck's in no shape to drive, or you would've brought it back. You could have killed her." He pets a hand over your head, plucking out a few leaves. "You should’ve let her go."

"She stole your truck!" Soap protests.

"So what? It's wrecked now anyway, innit?" The silence behind you speaks volumes. "Alright, doll, why don't you go get cleaned up? " he murmurs against the top of your head. "I need to talk to the lads, and what I have to say is not fit for a lady's ears."

He gently ushers you into the house and closes the door firmly behind you. You trudge upstairs, feeling utterly pathetic, and lock yourself into the bathroom. Still sniffling, you comb sticks and leaves out of your hair with your fingers and put yourself into a hot shower, where you give yourself the freedom to cry your eyes out, hoping that the sound of water drowns your stifled sobs.

The house is quiet when you shut off the shower and dry yourself off. You wrap the shirt you'd slept in around you and poke your head out into the hallway. John is right there, holding out a bundle of clothes. "Here, sweetheart," he says softly, like he's worried a sharp word will set you off again. He must have heard everything. "I sent the boys to deal with the truck and that tail light, so it's just us. Just come on downstairs when you're ready."

You open the door wide enough to accept the clothes, and he turns to leave again, content to leave anything else to be said when you make it downstairs.

He'd obviously taken his cue from what you'd been wearing already, because he gives you a sweater and jeans again, comfortable worn in things. You go downstairs carefully, every joint and muscle in your body aching, even after the shower.

"How do you take your coffee?" he asks. "Or do you prefer tea?"

"Coffee, please. I can make it. I'd feel better if I did, honestly." You skirt around him to the cupboard where you'd seen Gaz take mugs out, recognizing your own nestled among John's mismatched ones. You put milk and sugar in your favourite mug, and pour in coffee, stirring it throroughly. The clink of the spoon is loud, and so is the pan he sets on the stove top.

"Eggs and toast okay?" He asks.

"Um, yeah. That would be nice. Over easy?"

"Yes ma'am." He looks at you over his shoulder while butter melts in the pan, blue eyes all worry. "Did I say something to you last night? Maybe the sort of thing that made you feel like you needed to steal a truck and run as fast as you could away from here?"

"Um. Yes." You hold onto the mug with both hands. "Some stuff about wanting to start a family. With me."

His ears turn pink. "I see."

"I suppose this is where you tell me it was just the whiskey talking, right?" you ask hopefully. You like him, even if it’s ill-advised, maybe even dangerous to do so.

"Wish I could."

Your stomach twists. “Oh.”

John turns around fully, guilt and sadness written all over his handsome face. He steps closer and touches your arm gently. “I’m so sorry about what my boys have put you through, sweetheart. None of this has been right.” He sighs, brushing a few tendrils of still-wet hair away from your face, studying you, those intense blue eyes focused on you intently. “But there’s something special about you, doll. I really do want to keep you forever. Not if you’re scared, and not if you feel forced— It’s just, the thought of you leavin' and never wanting to speak to me again is— I don’t want that.”

You swallow nervously. “This is just really overwhelming.”

“I know. If I’d known, I wouldn’t have let this happen. Soap really could have just given you my number.” The smile he gives you is hopeful, and you can’t help but return it, just a little. “Now go sit down, doll. Let me take care of breakfast, hm?”

You nod and move to the table, sitting where you can watch him, and peek out the window too. The car is gone, but the van is still there for the moment, sitting idly to the side. You consider making another run for it, but your aching limbs protest even the thought. There’s not enough fight in you, and you’re not even sure you want to fight John, not the way you do the other three. His only crime has been wanting you to stay, and being a bit overzealous about it. You can’t be mad at him for that, can you? It isn’t really his fault.

Well, it might be his fault, in a roundabout way. He trained them, taught them how to ruthlessly pursue an objective. It’s just not his fault they can’t keep it from coming home with them. That’s a clear failure of whoever does their mental health assessments.

You sip your coffee and watch John crack eggs into a pan. He keeps glancing at you, and his smile flickers on a little longer each time that he catches you looking back, until he doesn’t stop smiling, and just looks happy, glad to have you there, even if you’re just keeping a silent vigil on the other side of the room.

It's not like you have anywhere to go. It'll take days at least to feel like you haven't just been in a car crash, and days more to locate everything to pack it back up. So long as you don't have to share a bed with John again, you think you could live with this, for at least a week. It can't be that terrible, so long as the others leave you alone. You rather hope they just leave. If you asked, would John send them away?

"John," you say as he sets a plate with buttered toast and a couple of eggs on it in front of you, and sets a couple tablets of paracetamol beside your plate. "If I stay… Will they be staying too?"

"I'm going to have them leave this afternoon. That alright with you? We can go for a walk to the neighbours while they pack up, if you're up for it. Maybe dr-- Well, not drive." He sets his own plate down and sits next to you, handing you a knife and a fork. “Have to get that sorted out. But the neighbours-- Rob and Melissa-- Their dog just had puppies a few weeks ago. Do you like dogs?”

You nod, breaking the yolks of one of the eggs with a corner of toast. "My parents had a dog when I was growing up. Some kind of German shepherd cross. Best boy. His name was Rob Roy, because he was a wee outlaw. Mam found him digging in the trash and--" you stop and give John a baleful look. "Sorry. That was more than you were asking."

"No, that's the most you've said at once this whole time. I'd listen to you talk all day, doll. Don't ever apologize."

"Sorry I-- Oh, shit, sorry--" you press your fingers to your mouth, cutting yourself off. "Force of habit."

"I'd like to see you lose that one. You have nothin' to apologize for. Not one damn thing, and especially not talking. I think you have the prettiest voice I've ever heard."

You roll your eyes, but you can't help smiling. "You're just saying that."

He touches your arm lightly. "You don't know me too well yet, doll, but I never just say anything."

Yet hangs in the air, heavy and deliberate. He wants you to know him, wants you to stay with him, wants you to like him. Even if it makes no sense, the offer is tempting. It's been a long time since you've let someone get close— You've had the occasional fling, and the odd reunion with an ex that you’d stayed friends with, but grief is like a canyon you can't bear to cross. What if you love someone and you lose them, the way you lost your parents? How could you live with that all over again?

Still, there's something that feels like warm sunlight in his smile, and you can't help but incline toward him, slowly but surely reaching for the light. No one can live in the shade forever. There’s no nobility in suffering.

So you let yourself talk, at least a little. And he listens, hanging on to your words like they're precious, gazing at you with something unfurling in his expression that you can't name. You're almost afraid to try.

Image Credits: Banner

Dividers: 1 - 2 - 3 by @/Cafekitsune

#Retirement Party #Chapter 4 - Runaway #Whoops forgor to do this earlier #sorry friends I shouldn't make self-imposed deadlines I know the guy that sets em and he's a pushover #Doll girl you are doomed do not let that man give you the big hopeful blue eyes he is TROUBLE #Seriously though what is WRONG with these guys they are not making good decisions even a little #dark fic #cod mw fanfiction #john price x reader #OC: Doll #x reader #Sorry she's become more of a character and it's harder to deny her personhood for the x reader bit #so hopefully you can just enjoy being Doll for a hot minute

[cordeliawhohung]

pet!au part 5 | ghoap x fem!reader

bath time, Bonnie

cw: overall theme of non-con, dark content, mean!simon

btw if y'all are needing someone to help proofread your stuff, @jackactuallywrites has got some great services to check out (:

Johnny lets you sleep after he’s had his fun with you. 

It’s odd how easy it comes. Your throat feels battered and bruised, and your head pounds from overexertion and dehydration with such pain that you never thought you’d get any rest. You swore you’d only be able to rest once you were dead, and yet you’re out before you even realize it. Exhaustion clings to you with unwavering nails despite it all, and grants you proper rest sometime after Johnny forced you to drink a glass of water. Well, as proper of a rest as one can get in your situation. 

Terrors plague you even with your eyes closed. You see a twisted fate before you, damned to relive the horrors already forced upon you, as well as those you're certain are soon to come. Just like you tried in real life, you rage against the unfairness of it all. Against the greedy hands and wet tongue. Against the blade on your skin and the fingers around your throat. And just like in real life, you fail. Even in dreams, you cannot escape the strange beast that calls himself Simon, nor his loyal pet.

When you finally wake and you're brutally forced back into consciousness, you are immediately aware of the hand resting on your head. It's heavy and firm as thick fingers gently glide along your skull. It almost feels comforting. The most comforted you have been since you were brought to that wretched place. You quickly realize that it's only a wolf in sheep's clothing when your eyes flutter open and you're met with Johnny's innocent grin. 

“You're so beautiful,” he whispers.

One would assume he was being sweet for whispering such a compliment to you, but you know very well that he is not. The way his cock abused your throat — and nearly your cunt — was far from kind, yet the lilt of his voice and the softness of his fingers as they wander to your cheek attempt to trick you. 

You say nothing in response to him as you continue to lay there, motionless. It feels wrong to accept a compliment from a dog such as him, but he doesn’t seem to mind your silence. All Johnny is focused on is the lines of your face and the softness of your skin as he continues to caress you. He’s a different person than he was earlier. Softer, almost seeming to care. It nearly lulls you into a false sense of security until you hear water running somewhere in the house. 

Your ears perk up at the sound, and you’re suddenly aware of everything. Not just the dull ache that permeates every cell in your body, but the lack of clothing on your legs, your still sticky and exposed thighs, and the booming footsteps that approach from the hallway. A heavy alarum rattles your senses, and you’re hit with that urge to run and fight again. 

“It’s alright, Bonnie. It’s just Simon,” Johnny says, trying to soothe you. 

It’s just Simon. He says it like you shouldn’t be afraid. As if he’s not the man who drugged you at work and brought you home to be used like a chew toy. There’s no time for you to correct him or voice your distaste before that lumbering beast is standing at the end of the bed. You want to close your eyes and pretend he isn’t there, but his presence is all consuming, and it’s not any easier to ignore when Johnny turns his attention to him with a grin. 

“Did you play nice?” Simon asks. 

“I did, I did what you told me, I promise,” Johnny says earnestly. 

The bed shakes as he shifts positions. He’s no longer laying beside you, and instead has crawled to the foot of the bed on his hands and knees like a dog. You watch with blank eyes as Johnny’s hands rest on Simon’s chest, a pitiful display of submission. Simon stares down at him for a moment before a hand reaches for his throat before giving his collar a small tug. 

“Good boy,” Simon praises. 

All it takes is another tug to get Johnny’s lips onto Simon’s, and you continue to lay there while they embrace one another. It feels wrong watching them like that. Simon shouldn’t be capable of such tenderness, and still the muffled sound of their lips separating with a sharp smack rings clear. You fear that he expects the same sort of greeting from you when he pulls away from Johnny and turns his attention to you, but you very quickly realize by the darkness in his eyes that is not the case at all. 

“C’mon, pet. Bath time.” 

There’s a deep shame that’s been plaguing you since the moment you first woke up that morning, and it only festers when you realize there’s no easy way out of this — of any of this. Simon is very patient with you as you slowly move your beaten body out of bed, and Johnny looks at you as if he’s watching a bird attempt to fly for the first time. Your teeth creak in your mouth as you try and hide your exposed body as best as you can, but Simon doesn’t at all seem interested in you being a prude. 

“This way,” he orders. 

Your feet slide along the wood floor as you follow behind him like a wounded animal. Much to your surprise, Johnny stays behind back in the bedroom, almost as if he suddenly cares about your privacy despite the fact he ravaged you for hours on end not too long ago. It doesn’t matter. Cut one head off, and two more replace it, and Simon — this freak of a man — has the strength of two jaws in one being. 

It isn’t until you reach the bathroom that you realize just how antiquated the house is. A beautiful porcelain tub, complete with a brass faucet, sits towards the back of the room, and though there are modern modifications and updates made with the toilet and sink, it very much still has that old charm to it. Everything is well taken care of, and completely spotless, but it still doesn’t do much to ease your mind about what’s about to happen to you. 

“Shirt off. Hurry up,” Simon prompts. 

Your shirt is the last piece of clothing protecting whatever dignity you have left, and you hate how easy it is for you to slip it up over your torso. Every other part of you has already been seen and explored — this feels like nothing. You don’t even mourn it as you toss it onto the floor. 

A lump threatens to choke you as Simon’s hand rests against the midsection of your back, and you nearly cry out when he presses you towards the tub. Thin wisps of steam rise on the mirror-like surface of the water, and when he helps you in, it almost feels nice when it envelops you. Despite the muscle-melting warmth, you don’t feel any less tense. You’re out of your element, you’re fully aware of that, and you try to keep your teeth from chattering as you avoid his gaze. 

He doesn’t speak as he retrieves a handful of toiletries from the counter before kneeling next to you by the tub. There’s no ledge for him to place them on, but he seems happy keeping them on the floor as he grabs some body wash. You almost move your hands up, expecting him to hand it to you, but he doesn’t. 

You quickly realize that he means to wash you himself. 

Cold gel presses against you, and you close your eyes in a pitiful attempt to pretend you’re somewhere else. Simon’s hands are firm as he begins to wash the entire length of your body. Despite the soap, it feels like he’s only ruining you; like his touch burns every inch of skin he comes into contact with. You hear him huff when he scrapes off a bit of Johnny’s dried cum off of your stomach, and you’re not sure if it’s supposed to be a laugh or not. 

“Johnny give you water today?” he suddenly asks. 

The swollen flesh of your bottom lip gets caught between your teeth as you ponder his question. Johnny had nearly waterboarded you with his enthusiasm earlier, trying to give you enough water to drown an elephant. In a way, it was nice as it helped to soothe the drug induced migraine that had been plaguing you all day, and still… it reminded you that you are less than human now. 

You nod. 

“Can’t hear you,” he bites. His hand suddenly grows tense, firmly gripping your leg as he pauses his endeavor in washing you. 

“Yes!” you correct. “He did.” 

He hums in response as he continues to clean you, and though you hate to admit it, he doesn’t skimp. Legs, arms, torso, underarms — he’s scrubbing everywhere. With his bare hands, which is… less than ideal, but he’s not half-assing it. It’s enough to get you to let your guard down; not that your resolve was strong to begin with. Exhaustion festers heavily within you, and all you can do is sit there and wonder why the soap you’re being cleansed with smells so familiar. 

“Did he fuck you?” Simon then asks. 

Learning better from a moment ago, you verbally respond with, “No.” 

Simon’s hands pause for a short moment before fingers dig into your jaw. His grip is piercing and unforgiving, and it gives you no option but to look up at him as he contorts your neck backwards. The inside of your cheek digs into your teeth, and you feel your eyes begin to water with the sting. 

“Look at me. Don’t lie to me. I’ll know if you’re lyin,” he explains. “Did he fuck you?” 

Everything he said to Johnny that morning hits you like a tidal wave as he demands the truth you’ve already given to him. You vividly recall how he told Johnny not to have sex with you in fear that you might get pregnant. Worse, how he would have to get rid of you because of it. You remember how you begged Johnny not to fuck you as he nearly pressed his cock into you, how terrified you were to find out what getting rid of you meant. 

You can’t control the way your bottom lip begins to tremble, or how a single hot tear scorches your face. There’s a pitiful attempt to shake your head that’s halted by Simon’s iron-like grip, and another firm squeeze from him finally gets you to open your mouth. 

“He didn’t, he didn’t fuck me, I-I promise,” you babble. “H-He did other things, but not that, I swear!” 

Simon is impossible to read as he scans your face. Drinks in the way your body trembles and wets underneath his touch. He doesn’t say if he believes you or not, but he relinquishes his grip on your face before he stands.

“Good girl.” 

Simon dries you off with one of the largest towels you’ve ever seen once he’s finished cleaning you up. There’s no longer that layer of grime from sweat and cum that taints your body, but you know it’s going to take much more than plain water to wash away the shame that continues to haunt you. 

Once you’re fully dry, Simon faces you towards the mirror as he stands behind you. It’s the first time you’re able to see the marks Johnny’s left on you. Several angry, fat, and dark hickeys plague your chest and breasts, and there’s several light scratches on your hips. You’ve hardly been there a day and you’re already marked to hell, as if the man had been trying to stake a claim on you. 

You’re quick to learn that those silly marks are not the only claim you’ll have to bear. Quiet, metallic jingling sounds as Simon retrieves a collar out of his pocket. It’s simple, made of leather, and bears a single charm, just like Johnny’s. You try to stand as still as possible as he reaches around you and begins to fasten it around your throat — not hard enough to choke you, but firm enough to know that you shouldn’t take it off. 

You avoid his gaze in the mirror as he works, and you try to look anywhere else; the floor, the counter, your clothes—

Your clothes. 

A stark realization hits you as you notice the clothes on the counter. They’re folded with the utmost care, yet even through the creases you can make out that these are your clothes. The ones that had slowly been going missing in your closet throughout the last few weeks. And that scent on your skin? That body wash? It’s the same exact brand you’ve used for years. Wide eyes meet Simon once more in the mirror just as he finishes securing your latest accessory, and you swear you see him smirking.  Your abduction was not done on a whim. This monster had been planning to take you for a long, long time.

#ghoap x reader #ghost x soap x reader #pet!au #dead dove #f!reader

[imloyaltoscoups]

punishment for disobeying | hong joshua ft. jeonghan and seungcheol | MDNI 18+

warnings: vibrator, lowkey exhibitionism, lowkey voyeuristic behavior, innuendo, pet names, ft. seungcheol and jeonghan (more),

P.S: Should I make a part 2? but i know it will end more than 6k words. Should I give it a go 95 liners???

ꕤꕤꕤꕤꕤꕤꕤꕤꕤꕤ

As you glance over at Joshua inside his car, uncertainty grips you. Do you really want to go through with this? But the thrill of knowing you have a vibrator nestled inside you sends shivers down your spine, arousing you despite your reservations.

"Do we really have to do this, Shua?" you ask, your voice laced with apprehension.

He turns to you, his gaze firm. "Yes, this is your punishment for disobeying me last time," he responds, his tone stern yet tinged with a hint of amusement.

You swallow nervously, knowing there's no turning back now. With a deep breath, you steel yourself for what's to come, reminding yourself that you'll be meeting a close friend at the restaurant soon.

As you arrive at the restaurant, Joshua leans closer to you, his breath warm against your ear. "If you behave properly, I might turn it off," he whispers, a smirk playing on his lips.

You nod, trying to suppress the nervous flutter in your stomach. But deep down, you know Joshua well enough to realize that he's unlikely to follow through with his promise. Instead, you anticipate that he'll relish the control he has over the vibrations pulsating inside you.

As you enter the restaurant, the waitress inquires about your reservation. Joshua confidently states his name, and you're led to a private room. Upon entering, you spot Seungcheol and Jeonghan seated at the table. You rush over to them, giving each of them a tight hug.

But as you embrace Jeonghan, you suddenly feel the vibration intensify between your legs, causing you to instinctively hug him tighter. He chuckles, teasingly pulling back to look at you. "Didn't know you missed me that much," he remarks with a playful grin.

Embarrassment flushes your cheeks as you shoot a quick glance at Joshua, who's sporting an innocent questioning smile, clearly enjoying the situation he's orchestrated.

As you and Joshua settle into your seats, the conversation flows easily between the four of you as you catch up on each other's lives.

When the food arrives, you eagerly dive in, savoring the delicious flavors. You briefly relax, thinking that perhaps Joshua will let you enjoy your meal in peace. But you're quickly proven wrong as you feel the intensity of the vibrations increasing, causing you to tense up and cross your legs instinctively.

Trying to maintain your composure, you shoot a subtle glance at Joshua, silently pleading for mercy. Yet, his expression remains impassive, his eyes glinting mischievously as he continues to control the vibrator with apparent delight.

As you sneak a quick glance across the table at Jeonghan, you catch the knowing twinkle in his eye. It's evident that he's fully aware of what's happening, and he's not about to let you off the hook easily.

With a sly grin, he adds innuendo-laden remarks into every conversation, his words dripping with playful suggestion. "So, how's the food? Looks like it's really hitting the spot," he comments, his tone laced with amusement.

You squirm in your seat, desperately trying to maintain your composure while silently cursing Joshua for putting you in this predicament. But despite your discomfort, you can't help but chuckle nervously at Jeonghan's antics, knowing that he's enjoying every moment of your embarrassment.

As Jeonghan and Joshua engage in their playful banter, exchanging remarks that only add to your embarrassment, you find yourself clasping your hands together, desperately trying to maintain some semblance of composure.

Jeonghan winks at you knowingly before turning to Joshua, "Hey, Josh, you seem to have a special talent for making things... vibrate," he teases, a smirk playing on his lips.

You bite your lip, fighting back a nervous giggle, as Joshua responds with an innocent shrug. "I have no idea what you're talking about, Jeonghan," he says, though the mischievous glint in his eyes betrays his facade of innocence.

Feeling the vibrations intensify once again, you bury your face in your hands, hoping to conceal your blush as the playful banter continues unabated.

As the teasing exchange between Jeonghan and Joshua continues, Seungcheol catches on to the playful atmosphere and decides to chime in, adding fuel to the fire.

He chuckles, shaking his head in mock disbelief. "Well, well, seems like we've stumbled upon quite the spicy situation here," he remarks, his tone filled with amusement. "Looks like you two have found a new way to spice up dinner parties. Who knew vibrators could be such conversation starters?" he added with a playful smirk. The dimples on his cheeks deepen.

You squirm uncomfortably in your seat, feeling the heat rising as Seungcheol's words confirm that both he and Jeonghan are fully aware of what's happening beneath the table.

Your eyes then widen in shock as Joshua unexpectedly hands the controller to Jeonghan and Seungcheol, offering them the opportunity to take control of the vibrator.

Jeonghan's grin widens as he accepts the controller, his eyes alight with mischief. "Well, looks like it's our turn to play," he says, his voice dripping with amusement.

Seungcheol chuckles, reaching out to take the controller from Jeonghan. "I never thought I'd see the day when I'd have this kind of power," he remarks, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

You can feel your heart pounding in your chest as you watch them eagerly, feeling a mixture of apprehension and excitement at the thought of them taking control. "W-wait, are you serious?" you stammer, feeling a surge of nervous energy coursing through you.

But Joshua just grins, clearly enjoying the spectacle. "Go ahead, have fun," he says, his tone filled with playful encouragement.

As the situation unfolds, a sudden realization dawns on you, and pieces start fitting together like a puzzle. Joshua's friends, Jeonghan and Seungcheol, have always shown a keen interest in you. Their subtle glances and lingering touches were not lost on you, especially considering Joshua's boastful remarks about their desires.

Furthermore, it strikes you that Joshua has a penchant for voyeurism, deriving pleasure from watching you in compromising situations. You recall instances where he would suggest scenarios that bordered on exhibitionism, feeding into his voyeuristic tendencies.

A sense of realization washes over you as you connect the dots. This entire setup, from the vibrator hidden inside you to Joshua handing over control to his friends, feels like a meticulously orchestrated plan to satisfy his voyeuristic desires while indulging in the fantasy of a reverse harem scenario.

Despite your initial shock, you find yourself oddly intrigued by the prospect. The idea of surrendering control, of being the center of attention for Joshua and his friends, sends a thrill coursing through you. Perhaps, deep down, you secretly yearn for more excitement and adventure in your life.

As you discreetly adjust your position in your seat, you can't help but feel a rush of anticipation, fueled by the clandestine allure of your newfound realization and the tantalizing scenarios playing out in your mind, drawn from the pages of the reverse harem manhwa you've been indulging in lately.

You suddenly felt a surge of panic at the thought of relinquishing control in such a public setting, you muster up the courage to speak out. "Um, guys, maybe we should do this... privately?" you suggest tentatively, your voice tinged with uncertainty.

Jeonghan and Seungcheol exchange amused glances, clearly finding your discomfort amusing. "But darling, we are in a private room," Jeonghan points out with a playful smirk.

Seungcheol chuckles, nodding in agreement. "Yeah, what's the harm? We're all friends here," he adds, his tone teasing.

Joshua joins in the laughter, but his expression turns more serious as he leans in closer to you. "You just need to be quiet, so we wouldn't be kicked out, right?" he whispers, his breath warm against your ear.

Your cheeks flush at his words, but you nod in agreement, realizing that discretion is key in this situation.

As the anticipation builds, Joshua's request catches you off guard. "Lift up your skirt, let's see the mess I've made earlier," he says, his tone firm yet tinged with excitement.

Your protest grows stronger as you consider the potential consequences of being caught in such a compromising position. "But what if someone opens the door?" you argue, your voice trembling with apprehension.

Joshua's expression softens as he reassures you, "Don't worry, I'll stand by the door and keep watch. We won't get caught."

His words offer some comfort, but the thought of being watched by him and controlled by his friends sends a thrill coursing through you.

"Can you lift your skirt up now? Our audience is waiting," Joshua urges, his eyes gleaming with anticipation.

You take a deep breath, your heart pounding in your chest, before slowly complying with his request, your hands trembling slightly as you reveal yourself to the eager gaze of Joshua and his friends, the air thick with anticipation and desire.

As you lift your skirt, revealing your exposed skin, Seungcheol leans back in his chair, spreading his legs wide in a display of unabashed confidence. "Now that's what I'm talking about," he remarks with a smirk, his gaze lingering appreciatively on your form.

Jeonghan's eyes sparkle with mischief as he adds to the teasing, his voice low and suggestive. "Well, well, look at you, daring to go commando under that skirt. And those black stockings? Absolutely sinful," he praises, his tone dripping with admiration.

You shoot a quick glance at Joshua, who stands by the door with a proud smile on his face, clearly reveling in the scene unfolding before him. Despite your initial apprehension, you can't help but feel a surge of arousal at the thought of being the center of attention, under the control of Joshua and his friends.

"So, shall we start?" Joshua's voice cuts through the charged atmosphere, his gaze locked on you with a mixture of anticipation and desire as he leans casually against the door.

You swallow nervously, feeling a rush of excitement coursing through you as you nod in response to Joshua's question.

The guys exchange knowing glances before Seungcheol adds with a smirk, "Oh, we've been ready for a while now. Let the show begin."

Jeonghan chuckles in agreement, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "Don't be shy, darling. We're all here for your pleasure," he says, his voice low and seductive.

You bite your lip, trying to stifle a gasp as you feel the vibrations intensifying inside you, causing a wave of pleasure to wash over you. Instinctively, you try to close your legs, but Seungcheol's actions prevent you from finding relief.

"Seungcheol, don't..." you manage to whisper, but your words are lost in a breathy moan as he increases the intensity to the maximum level.

As you struggle to maintain your composure, you feel Jeonghan's presence behind you, his touch sending shivers down your spine. With practiced ease, he lifts your skirt high, removing your stockings and exposing your bare skin to the cool air.

You grip his arm tightly, the sensation of the breeze against your legs heightening your arousal. "Hannie..." you whimper, your voice barely audible over the hum of the vibrator and the sound of your racing heartbeat.

Sensing your need, Jeonghan leans in close, his hand moving to cover your mouth to muffle any sounds that threaten to escape. "Shh, darling," he murmurs soothingly, his touch sending sparks of pleasure coursing through you. "Let go and enjoy the moment."

You nod eagerly, your breath coming in shallow gasps as you steady yourself, surrendering to the intoxicating sensations coursing through your body.

Seungcheol steps forward, a predatory glint in his eyes as he tilts his head, tapping the controller against his lips in a teasing manner. "Shall we add more stimulation?" he asks, his voice low and husky with desire.

You bite your lip, your heart pounding in anticipation as you nod, unable to resist the allure of increasing the intensity even further.

"Please..." you whisper, your voice barely a plea as you yearn for more, your body craving the exquisite torment that only they can provide.

With a fluid motion, Seungcheol tosses the controller back to Joshua, a smirk playing on his lips as he locks eyes with him. "We can touch her, right?" he asks, seeking permission from your boyfriend.

Joshua nods, a smirk playing on his lips. "Go ahead, make her cum. Pleasure her all you want," he replies, his tone filled with a mixture of command and arousal.

As Joshua takes control, adjusting the intensity to his liking, Seungcheol and Jeonghan move closer, their hands trailing over your skin with tantalizing caresses. You shiver as their touch ignites a fire within you, sending sparks of pleasure coursing through your veins.

As Seungcheol kneels between your legs, you feel a surge of anticipation coursing through you, your breath catching in your throat as his fingers tease your oversensitive clit. Just as you're about to moan, Jeonghan's lips descend upon yours, silencing any sound that threatens to escape.

His kiss is both commanding and gentle, his touch sending sparks of pleasure radiating through your body as he roams and gropes your breast in the process. You melt into his embrace, surrendering to the exquisite torment of pleasure and desire that envelops you, every sensation heightened by the electrifying touch of their hands.

The sensations overwhelm you as Seungcheol's fingers started to delve deeper inside you, coaxing the vibrator to penetrate you further. Pleasure courses through every fiber of your being, threatening to consume you entirely as you lose yourself in the exquisite torment.

With each thrust of Seungcheol's fingers, your moans grow louder, muffled only by Jeonghan's insistent lips pressed against yours. You writhe and arch against their touch, the overwhelming stimulation driving you to the brink of ecstasy.

Joshua's eyes gleam with hunger as he watches you lose yourself to the pleasure, his tongue darting out to wet his lips in anticipation. "You look so beautiful like this," he murmurs, his voice husky with desire.

As the pleasure threatens to overwhelm you, Jeonghan helps you to stand, his touch both supportive and electrifying as he steadies you. Meanwhile, Seungcheol continues to push you to your limits, his fingers driving you relentlessly towards the edge of ecstasy.

Just when you feel like you can't take any more, Joshua steps in, his eyes burning with a mix of desire and concern. With a decisive flick of his wrist, he sets the vibrator to its maximum intensity, sending a surge of sensation that threatens to tip you over the edge.

"Enough," he murmurs, his voice filled with urgency as he watches you teeter on the brink of release. "Let her find her release."

His words are both a command and a plea, and as the vibrations reach their peak, you feel yourself surrendering to the overwhelming pleasure, your body convulsing with the intensity of your climax.

You cry out, your voice muffled by Jeonghan's hand as you finally succumb to the ecstasy, every nerve ending ablaze with sensation as you lose yourself in the throes of pleasure, guided by the hands of those who have brought you to this blissful state.

As you catch your breath, still trembling from the intensity of your climax, Joshua gently cleans you up, his touch tender and caring as he removes the vibrator from inside you. You watch, dazed and breathless, as he hands it to Jeonghan with a knowing smile.

"Here you go, Han. Handle with care," Joshua says, his tone teasing yet affectionate as he passes the vibrator to his friend.

Jeonghan accepts it with a smirk, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he nods in appreciation. "Thanks, Josh. I'll make sure to put it to good use," he replies, his voice laced with playful innuendo.

Meanwhile, Seungcheol, still caught up in the aftermath of your release, licks his fingers clean with a satisfied expression, his gaze lingering on you with a hunger that sends a shiver down your spine.

Jeonghan's words break the post-climactic silence, his tone teasing yet expectant. "I guess that's it. Are we now going to your house?" he asks, a playful glint in his eyes.

Seungcheol chimes in, his expression hopeful. "You're not gonna leave us hanging, right, Josh?" he adds, a smirk playing on his lips as he looks to Joshua for confirmation.

Joshua smiles, his gaze flickering between each of you with a mixture of affection and anticipation. "Of course not," he reassures them, his voice filled with warmth. "The night's still young, and I have a feeling there's plenty more fun to be had."

You swallow nervously, feeling a hint of panic rising within you as the prospect of continuing the evening's escapades looms before you. "No, no, no," you protest weakly, shaking your head. "I still have work tomorrow."

As you reach for the handle, you can't help but hear the laughter of the three boys behind you, their amusement evident in their voices. "Come on, don't be such a killjoy," Seungcheol teases, his tone light-hearted.

Jeonghan joins in, his laughter ringing out as he suggests, "You can always ask for a sick leave. After all, it's not every day you get to have this much fun."

You can't help but chuckle nervously at their suggestion, the idea of calling in sick for an impromptu rendezvous both thrilling and reckless.

As Joshua's arm wraps around your shoulder, you lean into his touch, feeling a mixture of comfort and anticipation. "You know too well that these two will end up in front of our house," he remarks with a chuckle, his voice filled with amusement.

You nod in agreement, unable to suppress a smile at the thought of the inevitable antics that await. "Yeah, I have a feeling they won't take no for an answer," you reply, your tone tinged with resignation yet excitement.

Together, you make your way out of the restaurant, knowing that the night is far from over and that more adventures, both expected and unexpected, await you just around the corner.

ꕤꕤꕤꕤꕤ

seungcheol

jeonghan

joshua

#seventeen imagines #seventeen fic #seventeen scenarios #seventeen x reader #seventeen x you #svt x reader #svt smut #svt oneshot #svt imagines #seventeen smut #joshua hong x reader #joshua hong x you #joshua hong smut #joshua hong imagines #seungcheol x reader #choi seungcheol x you #choi seungcheol x reader #choi seungcheol smut #jeonghan imagines #jeonghan smut #jeonghan fanfic #yoon jeonghan x you #jeonghan x reader #jeonghan x you #jeonghan x y/n #joshua x reader #joshua x you #joshua smut #s.coups smut #s.coups x reader

[blorbosinmyheadcentral]

Hey Val!

So (if you've seen it) what do you think of episode 2?

Here's some thoughts!

GANGLE

When will Gangle know happiness... 

KINGER

Kinger was adorable as always. I like how the others can rely on him when they're feeling emotionally vulnerable. That scene with Ragatha and her self-doubt, and how Kinger reassures her? I'm glad he has these moments of clarity. Old man even tries to help Pomni, even if he's bad at it. He's so well intentioned. <3

JAX

Jax is a terrible person. He was already very bad before, but somehow got worse. No care for his companions (Pomni and Gangle mostly), no care for the NPCs (he was very eager to see them die horribly). There's some indication Jax might have cared about Kaufmo, but overall, his attitude is so dissonant. It's hard to understand what's really going on inside his head.

RAGATHA

I like that Ragatha didn't hold any grudges over Pomni abandoning her in episode 1. Ragatha is just so sweet. Constantly worrying for Pomni's well being, being considerate enough to try to cheer up Jax of all people. She makes a huge difference in this group, like a glue that keeps everyone together.

GUMMIGOO

LOVED Gummigoo. Yeah I wasn't prepared for him. I didn't know what to expect of him (he looked like a serious bad guy type?), but what we got was so good. Loves his two gummy gator friends (wants to preserve their minds from the weight of self-awareness). His connection to Pomni, the way they could relate, it was all believable and palpable. Nice guy.

POMNI

Pomni herself was my favorite. Compassionate, empathetic, expressing her thoughts calmly and sincerely. Determined, inventive - trying to find ways to get herself and Gummigoo out of that place. 

I think the fact that she spent most of these two episodes physically separated from everyone else was no coincidence. Pomni was disconnected from them. The dream sequence at the beginning? A reflection of her own doubts and fears. That she's nothing, or that no one in the circus would care if she was gone. So she, either intentionally or by happenstance, distanced herself. 

I'm super happy that the episode ended on a hopeful note. Pomni found that her companions would care for her and remember her, and so it turned her views on her head. She's not alone. She has people that she can rely on.....

KAUFMO

(The Kaufmo funeral was very touching too, especially with Zooble organizing it. I've seen jokes that no one cared much that he died in episode 1, so seeing otherwise was pretty cool.)

FANDOM

I hold no ill will against Caine, and this is coming from someone who really really liked Gummygoo (literally screamed a big NOOO when he poofed). It's a little concerning how feral people are getting about Caine.

CAINE

Speaking of Caine, I need understanding between them, I need it SO bad. He keeps making these little decisions that impact the human characters. Especially Pomni. And he's not even aware of how much it hurts them, or that it's harmful at all!!

The way some of them are so dismissive (Zooble waiting for him to go away), annoyed, or only see Caine as a bot that fixes things when everything goes wrong... it makes me think they've tried to reason with him before, and it didn't work, so now they treat him like the machine he is to them.

As of now, Pomni understands him as much as everyone else does. She's frustrated, she's livid, and she has every reason to want to punch his teeth in. But after episode 2???? Considering how sympathetic Pomni was with Gummigoo, an NPC/AI himself???? I have a little hope that Pomni can actually get through to Caine in the future.

#tadc #the amazing digital circus #tadc spoilers #tadc caine #tadc pomni #showtime #caine x pomni #I mean. kinda. #sorry... they're always on the back of my mind when writing... #platonic showtime would be sick yo #Anonymous #rambles

[brucewaynehater101]

In reverse Robins, technically Steph would be the second Robin, she would be in Jason's pixie boots and come back devastated and vengeful. Tim would either still be stuck at the one who has to put all the pieces together with people throwing all his effort and work back in his face because of the loss of a loved one and him not being them, or maybe in Barbara's position, crippled, traumatized, and having to rebuild himself both as a civilian and vigilante

Then Jason as the Replacement, the one who has to live up to his multiple predecessors, who has to mediate between two (mostly) grown men, who believes that Gotham needs Robin, needs the hope that Batman brings to the city

Bored with Red Hood Tim, give me Oracle Tim, give me a Tim who's forced to create his own mantle instead of taking on someone else's name while he gets the job done

You are absolutely correct. Why didn't I think about it that way? If we are reversing Robins, Duke would be a very temp "Robin" before Damian, who is older, takes over the role. They wouldn't be called Robin, but whatever mantle they end up passing down.

Duke would be it for like a minute or two (maybe his gang is inspired by Batman, wants to help the crusader, and then Duke settles into being his own role). Damian would then come into the picture, take up the mantle Duke discarded, and need to be Batman's partner (Duke doesn't need to. Damian needs the constant presence of Bruce both so he can get to know his dad and so that he is guided on Bruce's version of vigilantism).

Damian goes off to do whatever (maybe he does a few years in the LoA similar to what Bruce did but obviously different).

Bruce stumbles upon Steph, who's Spoiler, and negotiates with her to take up Damian's discarded mantle. Steph, who has her mom, never actually joins the Waynes. She also never truly bonds with Damian (who's away and not approving of her taking "his" mantle). Duke and her get along, but he typically works the "day shift."

Then Steph spots Tim stalking her on a roof. At first, creeped out, she hits him with a brick. Then Tim shows her the photos of the other Bats and the evidence he's collected of cases. Steph begrudgingly grows fond of the little stalker.

She doesn't have the best relationship with Bruce and is still a little miffed he forced her to be a vigilante under his watch (instead of continuing to be independent). Because of this, Steph keeps Tim to herself and away from the Bats. Tim doesn't want to be a vigilante anyways.

Steph shows Tim some moves to keep himself safe while he collects evidence and becomes a stalker. Cass gets adopted around this point and becomes the only Wayne aware of Tim's presence. It's a secret between the three of them.

Tim even introduces Steph to Helena Bertinelli. He met her while he was gathering clues for a case. While Tim and Helena are closer, Steph admires the older woman and her way of vigilantism. Steph can't copy it cause of Bruce, but Steph doesn't find it to be wrong either.

Then the whole mess with Black Mask happens, and Steph "dies."

Tim, who's devastated at the loss, sees Bruce losing it. He, despite the many jokes and promises he made to Steph, offers to take up her role in order to leash Bruce.

Bruce, who finds out the dead person he considered a daughter had kept a whole side of herself from him, pushes Tim away even more. Tim gets sent away, learns from Shiva, and stubbornly forces Bruce into healthier methods of grieving.

In the end, Tim gets captured by Joker, and the Joker Junior arc happens. While Tim isn't physically disabled, the torture and brainwashing makes returning to the field incredibly difficult. Tim has a hard time keeping himself present when he's not at home (and sometimes struggles even then). He has laughing spells and other shit. Tim has to pull himself from the field because of this.

Bruce, on the other hand, goes off the rails again. Tim, who can barely get out of bed some days, gives up. He can't keep managing Bruce's mental well-being on top of his own.

Tim moves out to the clock tower and spends a while moping (understandably). That is until a villain tries to pull some shit online, and Tim discovers another way he can help without being a liability in the field.

Tim nearly orders a hit on Bruce when he finds Jason in the same role that killed Steph and disabled Tim. Duke talks him down and promises to always look out for Jason. Maybe Damian comes back as well.

While Tim isn't able to go in the field, he can still train. It acts as a soothing routine to him. He ensures that Jason is always able to escape and drills into his head that running away is always better than dying. There are worse things than dying, too.

Then, while Jason is "Robin", Steph comes back as "Red Hood." She would probably do a play on words as Black Mask instead for her name. I'm not sure what her training arc would be like, but I like to imagine that she teams up with Helena sometimes.

Tim, through his connections with Helena and Harley, still creates the Birds of Prey.

Anyways, hope this is a decent timeline! There's more that can be added for each of the Batkids, so feel free to add what else you think should happen

#dc comics #tim drake #dc universe #steph brown #duke thomas #jason todd #bruce wayne #damian wayne #cass wayne #reverse robins #thank you for the ask!!!!

[fixyourwritinghabits]

How to Handle Critique

I’ve got to admit, I wish I was one of those beatific saints that could take critique with a grateful smile. Instead, I am constantly suppressing a horrible little gremlin at the back of my head hissing at anything from legit plot critiques to grammar corrections. I’m well aware I used that comma wrong, GOD.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m very good at suppressing that gremlin, but the little bastard is still there. He exists because even though your brain knows critique can help, it also knows you worked damn hard on the thing being critiqued, and goddamnit, isn’t that enough???

Anyway, here are some tips on getting that gremlin to shut the hell up.

It is okay to be upset. You worked really hard on this thing, and now someone’s gone and pointed out all the things that suck about it. You cannot control how you feel about one thing or another, but you can allow yourself to feel that way and let it pass through you. Let your critique partner you’re taking time to reflect on it, and go for a walk. Do something else. Let those feelings pass through you before you get back to the page.

Give yourself time. Don’t feel like you need to correct things right away (unless they are minimal grammar tweaks). Some pieces of feedback might take awhile to sink in, especially when you’ve got a whole novel to wrestle through. Set it aside, think about something else for a week or so, and get back to it when you’ve reset.

Get a second opinion and/or ducky friend. It can be very hard to tell the difference between good and bad feedback sometimes. Someone who means very well could give feedback that just doesn’t work for you, and someone who doesn’t give two shits could have spotted that fatal flaw right away. You can bring in a real third party or just make use of the old rubber duck technique, where you talk through the issue with a friend or a Naruto poster telling you to Believe it. Working it out out-loud is a really effective technique to figure out what needs fixing and what doesn’t.

Guide critique-givers toward the feedback you want. I, a person who prefers straightforward fantasy and sci-fi, cannot give the fine-tooth points on how a romance novel should work. However, I can give feedback on what works for me and what doesn’t story-wise. Giving your beta reader or critique partner a list of questions to look for will help avoid vague feedback based on how they don’t like the genre. There are many ways to do this, but consider using the following as a base to tailor your own questions:

Did you get a good sense of the setting? Did the worldbuilding make sense to you?

Was this story clear? Where there any parts that seemed confusing?

What characters did you like and why? What characters didn’t you like?

Did any parts of the story feel slow or repetitive?

Did the beginning draw you in? Did the middle keep you engaged? Did the ending feel satisfying?

If you were to write [insert plot point here], what would you do differently?

Again, all of the above questions are up for debate depending on your goal, but we are rarely taught how to give good feedback, and a guided feedback session would work better for you than a free-for-all.

Figure out what kind of advice doesn’t work for you. It is really hard to give good feedback sometimes, even with guided questions. It can also be really hard to figure out why some feedback doesn’t click with you, and that’s a matter of digging deep to figure out what you really want. You may lean toward characters who are horrible fuck-ups, but your partner prefers more steady characters who always strive to do the right thing. Your characters, therefore, may never click with this person, no matter how much they want to help you. And that’s okay! Figuring out where your critique partner is coming from can help you figure out what parts of their feedback isn’t working for you. Sometimes the only thing you can do is thank them and move on, but you might also want to guide them to focus more on the plot or the worldbuilding when looking at your work.

And last, don’t focus on grammar. It’s great if they point that out, but if you end up changing everything, trying to fix that first is a waste of your time. Grammar tweaks last, plot points first.

And, I dunno, give yourself a treat to get that horrible little mind gremlin something else to focus on. Sometimes patting those bad feelings on the head and sending them away can help way more than ignoring them.

#writing feedback #writing advice #telling yourself this feels bad and I don't like it is okay! #even if you asked for that advice it can still hurt! #just let it pass and you'll be okay

[vivwritesfics]

Fake It Till You Make It

Chapter Seven - The Party Princess... Buys A Car?

The Princess of Monaco is wild and out of control. She needs to stop being in the tabloids for all the wrong reasons. Charles Leclerc has had a spot of bad press since his very public break up. He needs some good PR. What better way to fix their problems than to pair them up?

1.1K

Series Masterlist

The Party Princess... Buys A Car?

The Party Princess is back in Monaco, but it appears as though she has cleaned up her act. The Monaco Press has tried to keep up with her movements, but, truthfully, there hasn't been much to keep up with.

It appears as though she and Formula One driver Charles Leclerc have cleaned each other up for the better.

We are all aware of the princess's history with cars. It was assumed by many in Monaco that the royal family had put her on a ban after she'd crashed her 1963 Volkswagen Beetle.

That's why it came as a shock to us to see the Princess out, shopping for a new car. She was documented visiting Mercedes and Audi dealerships, but didn't appear to be having any luck.

The Princess took to social media to post about the purchase of a new car. It was no surprise that she went for another classic, a 1976 Lancia Scorpion, another movie car to add to her collection.

Charles Leclerc has not yet been seen acknowledging the Princess's new car. We wonder how long it will be until he finally gets her her first Ferrari.

"Cha, I did a thing."

It was a race weekend, one she couldn't attend. But she was still watching from the television in the apartment that she'd started to clean (and she was making progress, too. From the moment they'd gotten back from their little holiday, she began cleaning her apartment. Started with this dishes in the sink and made her way around the room).

"What did you do?" He asked, voice amused.

She practically squealed as she answered. "I bought a Lancia!"

There was a moment where Charles didn't answer, and the smile dropped from her face. "Charles," she said. "Answer me, I beg."

A breathy sort of laugh left his lips. "Chérie," he muttered, voice quiet, kind, and caring. "They rot."

"Shut up," she mumbled. He didn't know that she was currently sat in her Lancia, in the garage beneath her apartment building. "I can pay for someone to look after her for me." She leaned forward against the steering wheel, unable to stop herself from smiling. "I've given her a name.

"What's she called?" Asked Charles.

"Giselle?"

He repeated the name back to her. "Why Giselle?"

She leaned back in her seat. "It's from a movie," she answered and climbed out. "I can't wait for you to meet her."

Charles had to go not long after that. He asked for pictures of Giselle, ones he promised to look at after the race. She stayed sitting in her lovely new car for just a few moments longer, taking a moment to bask in her new purchase. This one she'd take care of, just like she'd tried to do with the rest of her cars. But, this time, she'd do it.

She started her up. Giselle rumbled to life and she drove her out of parking garage.

It wasn't unusual to see odd and extravagant cars around Monaco. But Giselle was something else. She drove around the streets, sunglasses covering her eyes. Cameras were on her, but, for the first time, she didn't much care.

She drove Giselle to the palace. It was a right job getting let in, her car not yet on the list. When she drove up the drive, a member of staff pulled open for door. She tossed him the keys. "Take good care of her," she said and ran up the steps.

It was easy to find Henri, hidden away in his office with his head in his hands. "Hen," she said and sat in the empty seat opposite him. "I think I did it, I think I finally cleaned up my act."

"Great," Henri said with little enthusiasm.

She grabbed her phone from her pocket, pulled up a picture of Giselle and placed it in front of her brother. "She's gorgeous, isn't she?" She began. "Charles says she rots, but I'm gonna take care of her."

Henri released a sigh. "Where the hell did you disappear to last week?" He asked suddenly. "Do you know who has to deal with everything when you disappear? Me! I have to do it. I have so many better things I could be doing with my time!"

"Jeez, Hen. I just got away for a little while. It's not that big a deal," she mumbled and checked her nails. "Besides, it not like you need me for anything."

And, suddenly, Henri was crying. His face was hidden in his hands, but his sobs were undeniable. "Fucking hell, Henri. I was with Charles. Isn't that what you wanted?"

"Shut up," he spat between sobs. "You're a spoilt child and you haven't got a clue what's going on."

It was nothing Henri hadn't said to her before, but he'd never said it with such emotion before.

"You have no idea what the real world is like. Our family is already sick of dealing with you, so they dumped you on me. And, guess what, kid? I'm sick of you too!"

Tears sprang to her eyes, but she didn't let them fall. Clearing her throat she stood up. "I know, Henri. I know you're sick of me, you didn't need to tell me."

She stood and strode out of his office. Henri didn't call her back, didn't make any attempt to apologise. Fine, she didn't need her brother. Climbing into Giselle she held her phone to her ear. "C'mon," she mumbled, beginning her drive back to her apartment.

When had Charles become the person she tried to seek comfort from?

She didn't know that Charles had a bad race, didn't know that he was in no mood. He picked up the phone though, if only to tell her just that.

"Charlie," she began, but she didn't get a chance to say much else.

"I can't talk right now," he said quickly, voice low.

But she didn't much care, she needed him. "Charles, please."

But he couldn't hear the sadness in her voice, not past his own anger and annoyance. "Why are you being so needy?" He spat. "I can't fucking talk right now."

She ended the call and threw her phone onto the passenger seat. Pulling over, she buried her face in her hands and cried. Tears ran down her cheeks and she sobbed until her chest hurt.

This day couldn't get any worse, she decided as she drove back to her apartment. She didn't want to speak to anybody. Not Henri, not Charles, not her friends. Nobody.

The news of her father's sickness broke that afternoon.

lol i thought we'd be wrapping up with this story but i guess not lmao also, giselle for reference below

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[jinwoosungs]

{ 162 }

moonlight.

jinwoo sung x fem.reader

sung jinwoo walked into the hunter association building for a scheduled meeting with the chairman. while taking casual strides into the building, he let out a yawn. jinwoo believed that nothing out of the ordinary would happen today-

only to be proven wrong the moment he opens the double doors to the conference room as a sudden weight was felt shoved against his chest.

had jinwoo been any normal man, he would have quickly been toppled over. but thanks to the newfound poise he had gained since becoming an s-rank, jinwoo manages to steady himself while keeping an arm around the stranger’s form.

“whoa, be careful.” his voice was gentle and not at all spoken in a manner that was meant to be like a scolding. yet still, he hears the gasp and looks down-

only to be met with someone unfamiliar-

only to be met with you.

your eyes widen with surprise with your lips halfway parted. incoherent sputtering were all he could hear when you back away from him. clearly sensing your embarrassment and discomfort, jinwoo lets go of you while keeping a hand shoved into the pockets of his coat, grey eyes shining with mirth for you.

“sorry for bumping into you, moonlight! i’ll be more careful next time!”

now this was interesting.

never before had he been referred to by such a nickname before.

moonlight?

he replays the word you had uttered in your panicked state over and over again before deciding that he liked it.

ready to say something to you, he was given little time to react when you suddenly bowed down to him, “sorry, but i’m late for a very important mission!”

you end up stepping off to the side, running past jinwoo as the young hunter was left staring off at you with pure amusement in his eyes.

“ah, hunter sung jinwoo! it’s nice to see you again, come on in, there’s a few things i’d like to discuss with you.” chairman go gunhee greets him with a hearty laugh.

despite his reluctance to look away from you, jinwoo enters the conference room with chairman go. during the meeting, the chairman spoke about the hundreds of sponsorship offers he had received for ahjin guild, yet as jinwoo poured over the paperwork, not a single one of those offers stood out to him. clearly, he had you other things on his mind.

why would i need any of these deals when the system provides me with far superior weapons?

jinwoo was dimly aware of the chairman letting out a sigh before saying a name he had never heard of before.

“excuse me?” jinwoo looks up expectantly to see a smile painted on the chairman’s features.

“that’s the name of the new healer that ran into you just now. she gets a bit scatterbrained when she’s nervous, but the young woman has a good heart. ever since ms. joohee lee retired, i have seen her transfer and appearance at our association as a blessing.”

jinwoo winces at the mention of joohee, recalling back their last meeting together when she announced her retirement to him. perhaps he should figure out her address and mail a gift to her?

but chairman go’s next words was what ultimately breaks him out of his reveries, making jinwoo do a double take, “today was her first raid.”

knowing that it was your first raid fills jinwoo with a strange discomfort, his chest tightening as the urge to protect you fills his veins. “you sent her off without me?”

the chairman gives him a confused expression, “i assure you, hunter sung, that this is a low level gate; a mere c-rank. the woman is a certified a-rank healer, and i’m certain she can handle healing her comrades.”

jinwoo’s heart suddenly began to stop just then, being filled with fear as he had flashbacks pertaining to the cartenon temple-

the same double dungeon that had killed him before deciding to choose him as the system’s player.

without even thinking about it, he looks towards the exit and asks for the exact location of where the c-level gate had spawned. chairman go lets out a sigh, collecting all of the documents together into one neat pile before answering him.

“it’s in the middle of the city, you wouldn’t miss it, hunter sung.”

jinwoo thanks the chairman before making a mad dash out of the association’s building and into the busy streets of the city. as he ran, he was able to sense the gate’s power quickly dwindling as it seemed to be on the cusp of disappearing.

hm? that’s strange; is the raid already over?

within the next few minutes, jinwoo arrives at the location where the gate had supposedly been, being filled with a relief when he saw a group of hunters and you in the midst of the crowd. they each call out your name, giving you a thumbs up while expressing their gratitude towards you and your healing abilities.

in return, your expression was sheepish, and a little embarrassed, waving to your comrades as they each returned home for the day. your hand was still kept in an upright position when you finally noticed him standing a few feet away from you with a lazy smile on his face.

you appeared to be flustered now, hands now gripping on tightly to your satchel as you attempted to run away from him by going in the opposite direction-

lucky for jinwoo, he was fast enough, already able to cut off your escape as he appears directly in front of you, eyes glowing a faint hue as his lips were turned up in a smile.

“why did you start running right after seeing me?” jinwoo made sure his voice was soothing and smooth so as to not scare you away. he could see the way your eyes darted everywhere else but at him, cheeks seeming to warm up in response to his question.

“u-uhm, well, it’s because i had run into you earlier and uhm-“

“you had called me moonlight, right?”

it seems he had nailed it, for your expression became even more panicked as you tried to take several steps away from him. but jinwoo, still filled with amusement and joy, was simply having too much fun to let you go.

“come on, there’s no need to look so panicked. your nickname for me actually intrigued me a lot.” he keeps a hand behind your back, preventing you from moving away from him.

“i’m just curious about your nickname for me, that’s all.”

jinwoo had to fight back the grin and chuckle that threatens to escape from his lips (he physically had to purse them in response to your flustered state.)

“uhm, well, that i-is…” you kept stuttering the tiniest bit, even fanning your face in response before setting the palm of your hands against your heated cheeks. “i’m sorry, i’d rather not say, hunter sung.”

jinwoo didn’t like how stifling his title sounded against your pretty, parted lips, making him sigh as he ran a frustrated hand through his hair.

after all, he would much rather be your moonlight.

“come on, let’s celebrate.” he decides to change the subject then in hopes of getting you to relax around him.

“huh? what? did you say celebrate?”

not even giving you a chance to reject him, he places a hand behind your back while leading you into the city.

“wait… where are you taking me?”

“out to eat at this steakhouse as celebration for your first successful raid.” jinwoo admits to you with a wink and a grin, making you even more flustered in response.

“oh, there’s no need! besides, i’m a little sweaty a-and-“

“don’t worry about it; it’s more of a casual dining experience, and i’m certain no one will be opposed to a healer like yourself dining at their establishment.”

you were ready to protest once more when jinwoo could detect a low, grumbling sound coming from your stomach. a cheeky grin was felt spreading when he looks down at your abdomen. unable to meet his gaze, you fold your arms across your chest, “okay, f-fine! i’ll join you for dinner…”

knowing he had won, jinwoo takes a hold of your hand in his, weaving across the city with a bright smile on his face when he takes you to the restaurant. upon arrival, he felt a little disheartened to see how busy it was, but when the hostess saw him, he was immediately offered a private table near the back of the restaurant.

“hm, i guess it pays off to be an s-rank…” once they were both seated, jinwoo takes a look at the menu while offering you the basket of warm rolls with butter for you to munch on to help with easing your hunger. losing all of your prior shyness now, you take two rolls and place them on your plate, spreading the butter on it before taking a bite. basking in your eager moans as you ate, jinwoo couldn’t help but let out a light chuckle in response.

“is there anything in particular that you’d like to order?”

between bites of your rolls, you shake your head before swallowing. “n-no, i don’t mind having what you’re having…”

jinwoo hums in response, collecting both of the menus when the waiter comes by to take his order.

“we’ll have two 16 ounce steaks cooked medium rare please.”

the waiter nods and writes down the order, “and what would you like to drink?”

“red wine and two waters.”

the waiter then takes the menu while smiling, “got it. it will be out soon, sir.”

jinwoo was finally left alone with you, seeing the basket of rolls already half empty as you worked on what he assumed was your last roll. he smiles at you before taking a roll himself, “do you feel better now?”

“oh, yes! ah, sorry if i looked like a pig, scarfing down all that buttery bread.” you had a sheepish expression on your face now, scratching the back of your head while letting out a nervous giggle.

jinwoo shakes his head in response, “there’s no need to apologize, pig out all you want. you can always be yourself around me.”

he listens to the way you proceed to swallow thickly, not quite brave enough to meet his gaze when you thanked him. humming in response, jinwoo also starts enjoying the dinner rolls while making small talk with you, wishing to get to know you better as you both waited for your food to arrive.

and truly, jinwoo did not hold back with his questions that were strangely intimate.

were you seeing anyone at the moment?

what was your last relationship like?

what was your childhood like?

do you have any siblings? if so, are you the eldest, middle, or youngest child?

when did you awaken your powers as a healer?

what is your…

favorite food-

favorite color-

favorite song?

the moment his questioning ceased was when their food finally arrived, as two large plates steaks with mashed potatoes and broccoli were placed before them.

“well, dig in. and don’t be shy, i know you still must be starving, especially after your first raid.” jinwoo had to make sure to reassure you as he could see the way your mouth was practically salivating at the food.

“t-thank you so much!” picking up your knife and fork, you began cutting into the juicy and tender piece of steak, placing the morsel within your mouth as you let out a happy moan in response.

“delicious!”

jinwoo was filled with utter delight as he watched you eating your meal, taking casual bites of his own food, but never once straying his gaze too far away from you. you continue eating in silence, not saying a word as it was clear that you wanted to savor this meal to its fullest.

you and jinwoo continued to eat in a comfortable silence for the next hour, with jinwoo letting out a whistle at your own, empty plate. “wow, that’s pretty amazing. i thought i was the only one who could polish off this meal.”

you were in the middle of taking gulps of your iced water, setting down your glass before wiping at your lips, “sorry, it was so good… and i guess i was pretty hungry. i had skipped lunch earlier because i was so nervous about my first raid.”

“that’s understandable.” jinwoo nods while taking sips of his red wine. “just… don’t skip meals ever again, okay? your body needs it- especially now that you’re a healer.”

you nod in agreement while giving him a smile. “thank you, i’ll definitely keep that in mind… hunter sung.”

“jinwoo.” he ends up correcting you with a sigh. if you weren’t going to call him moonlight again, then he would much rather you refer to him by his first name.

“ah, what…? you’re giving me permission to call you by your first name?”

“yes.”

jinwoo leans back against his seat with his arms crossed over his chest, “is that a problem?”

you shake your head while clearing your throat, “n-no, it’s no problem at all! if that’s the case, then you may call me by my first name, too.”

when the waiter returns, he asks if you or jinwoo would like dessert, but you both shake your head at the offer. jinwoo gives the waiter his card, paying for both of the meals, which earned another smile from you.

with the dinner date completed, jinwoo places his card back within his wallet, pocketing it before casually walking beside you. you were playing with the straps of your satchel, mouth opening and closing, like you wanted to say something to him.

“the reason i called you moonlight was because your radiance is as gentle as the moon.”

your sudden words makes jinwoo stops in his tracks, feeling his heart begin to pound when he heard that nickname again-

moonlight.

his attention was fully on you now, facing you completely as he rests both of his hands within the pocket of his coat. you did not meet his gaze, clearly embarrassed as you forced yourself to tell him the truth.

“i spent some time perfecting my healing abilities because i held a deep admiration for you… you were achingly beautiful to me, jinwoo… you filled my life with such motivation and light- however, your presence and beauty wasn’t harsh like looking up at the sun, shining so brightly that it may blind me.”

you take another moment to yourself before finally meeting his gaze, eyes shining with a look akin to adoration for him.

“no, instead, your brilliance was more like that of the moon. your gentle rays was like a beacon for me… that’s why, you’re my moonlight.”

once you had finished your explanation, jinwoo felt as though his heart was floating in response. never before had such unbidden happiness filled his veins, the feeling becoming so potent that he had to take a step closer to you.

“oh? that’s why you called me moonlight?” he asks with another grin spreading across his handsome features.

“ah, yes. in my rush… i didn’t want to say your name and my secret nickname for you kind of slipped…?” you admit with a bit of a tremor in your voice.

his rich chuckle was heard echoing into the night air when he leans down, placing a hand on your chin while admitting, “to be honest, i’m glad that your secret nickname for me slipped.”

he hums a bit while brushing the tip of his nose against your forehead. you end up clinging to the front of his coat while shakily calling out to him.

“please, refer to me as your moonlight from now on.” jinwoo gives you a soft smile, taking your hand in his while pressing a kiss against the back of it.

“i can be your moonlight, and you can be my love. how does that sound?”

he basks in the way your smile widens in response to his proposition, giving him an eager nod before wrapping your arms around his neck.

“that sounds perfect to me, moonlight.”

and when he finally leans down to press his lips against yours, it was a sensation jinwoo knew that he would never once forget for the rest of his life.

a.n. - i’ve had this daydream stewing in my head for a while now, and finally decided to write it all down in a more coherent story ｡ﾟ(TヮT)ﾟ｡ i wanted to post this real quick before spending the following weeks doing research with my professor, so please do enjoy!

all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.

#sung jinwoo x reader #jinwoo sung x reader #sung jinwoo x you #jinwoo sung x you #solo leveling x reader #solo leveling #sung jinwoo #jinwoo sung

[egg-crusher]

New the amazing digital circus chapter came out and I want to talk about it

First the Candy Canyon Kingdom is a very nice setting, is basically just sugar rush from wreck it Ralph but I still like it

I like how they foreshadowes Pomni’s escape from the test room at the beginning with her falling on a cube causing the colíderes to go awry y send her flying to the ceiling

Gumigoo was great, I like how to shows the AI’s not being evil since the made up story Caine made is him stealing the syrup for his village, and even after discovering his live was a lie he still tried to help his lads

On the topic of “non evil ai” after hearing how Gumigoo was a good guy and the Fudge calling the princess wretched, I for one second thought she would be a twist villain, but nope, she’s really a good person

I also like how Caine and Bubbles seems to be the most primitive AI’s

The princess is calm and nice, Gumigoo friends are dumb but in a cartoony and not AI like way, Gumigoo is very good at being like a human, even Fudge is aware his a despicable and disgusting creature (although not for the murders but that’s just how he was made)

Meanwhile Caine can’t read the room or understand human emotions besides boredom being bad for their stability while not understanding the problems of deleting NPC’s the players get attached to, unlike Gumigoo which understood revealing the truth would be bad for them

Also the test room not having Gumigoo’s mum but having Fudge implies Caine planned they would fall into the pit, and since they couldn’t escape from that situation without fudge’s help implies letting Fudge into the kingdom was the way the adventure was supposed to end

Specially since Fudge was programmed to be able to walk in land, why else’s would he need it?

Caine doesn’t understand what can and can’t help their mental health so he wouldn’t see anything wrong in letting Fudge into the Kingdom

I find really funny how Jax was the evilest guy in the situation, unlike the Gloinks, here there’s a nuisance on the history with Fudge just being a monster in a pit (kinda like Moana, Maui isn’t pure evil and Teka isn’t evil either, Tamatoa is just vibing and waiting to do evil) but Jax is the one who wants to destroy the kingdom for the laughs

Note:fudge reminds me of “the great mighty POO” of conkers bad fur day

Also I really like how they didn’t brush of Kaufmo and showed they actually cared for him and is ultimately this act of kindness the thing that helps Pomni to see the circus as family

Note:notice how she didn’t add kinger to the ones saving her, maybe he didn’t appear because his hand wouldn’t be recognizable with the shading and all that but is still worth to mention

Also I like how Kinger acts supportive but forgets what he was saying mid sentence, I don’t know if he was faking madness or he’s really damaged. But I like how he really cares

Also the humans can just not go to Caine’s adventures like Zooble does which shows Caine isn’t evil but misguided

And before last I want to mention Caine not allowing other npcs in the grounds, he’s silence after saying “who knows what might happen” implies something, and seeing how some of the doors in the pilot have the faces of the mannequins implies he use to allow npcs but something happen

This makes me theorize someone MIGHT be a NPC, my money is on Kinger since he’s borderline unhinged and lasted for way too long to be normal

Also that would explain why there was a Queener, since the possibility of two humans getting the matching avatars is too small it makes me thing the two were NPC’s and during the accident Queener got deleted by something or someone and the only reason Kinger hasn’t abstracted is because he isn’t a human, him being a npc also explains how he knows so much of the circus

He might have been from a time NPC’s we’re allowed to be self aware of the circus being digital, maybe that’s why Caine hasn’t upgraded his AI since that would risk him going crazy or give up like Gumigoo almost goes

Also Maybe Kinger mental state must be because of Caine, if Caine deleted Queener then Kinger must have been angry but for some reason Caine choose to make him forget making Kinger the forgetful king he is now days but Caine must have forgotten about Kinger being a NPC

this is the same Caine who let that unfinished exit door roam around which caused Kaufmo to get abstracted, it wouldn’t surprise me he also forgot Kinger was a NPC

And for last I want to mention the last scene being a direct parallel of the last scene of the pilot, all the crew is reunited and Pomni comes to a realization as a version of the theme song starts

Except of being massive and dreadful, here is hopeful and calm. Instead of looking at the camera and ignoring everyone while going crazy with a crazy smile filled with despair, she focuses on the others and genuinely smiles

The camera starts moving away but in a much slower manner as the music slowly ends with a simple calm piano instead of a massive chaotic orchestra

The finale of episode 2 is a opposite of the pilot, being a small note of hope compared to the dreadful realization of Episode 1

#the amazing digital circus #pomni #gummigoo #Zooble #princess loolilalu #fudge #tadc caine #caine #jax #tadc ragatha #tadc kinger #tadc queener #theory #analysis

[suashii]

— 𝒷𝒶𝒹 𝓇𝑒𝓅𝓊𝓉𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃 ౨ৎ

haitani rindou x reader. 1.3k w.c. ﾉ sfw ﾉ fluff ﾉ college au-ish :3 ﾉ just some rindou lovin' ﾉ repost!

it’s been a while since you've been out with your friends. can you really call them that, though? they are classmates at the very least, ones that feel compelled to invite you to their gatherings. it’s thoughtful, you’ll give them that, but part of you wishes they didn’t. maybe the outing is just boring or maybe they have all grown dull, but either way, it’s easy to zone out in their presence. their chatter seems distant. you don’t even really know what they’re talking about—something regarding everyone’s plans for this saturday.

“what about you?” the girl beside you nudges your ribs to gain your attention—and it works. the jab is surprisingly painful given how small she is. “can you make it?”

“sorry, i already have plans with someone else.”

“aww,” she whines at your answer, “who are you hanging out with? maybe they can tag along.”

“rindou.”

all the idle chatter at the table stops upon the mere utterance of his name. suddenly, all eyes are on you. he’s popular, but not for the right reasons. not many people are fond of him. and you never minded that, but the people who dislike him don’t just dislike him; they’re afraid of him. so although you have no problem associating yourself with him, you’ve learned quickly that bringing him up around others often leads to unsavory reactions. you slipped up at this moment.

“you mean… haitani rindou?”

“mhm.” you’re aware of the common consensus when it comes to rindou and what people think of him, but you want to test the waters and see how your peers perceive him. “why? what’s wrong with him?”

the replies flood in like a tsunami.

“he only hangs out with his brother and you know how much trouble ran is.”

“yeah, they’re total scumbags. i’m pretty sure they’ve almost gotten arrested—and on multiple occasions at that.”

“you’re perfectly capable of surrounding yourself with better company. why on earth would you want to be seen with him?”

“that’s really none of your concern.” the last comment strikes a nerve and causes you to raise your voice. shocked eyes accompanied by gaping mouths stare at you in surprise. you don’t know why you expected their responses to be any different. everyone jumps to the same conclusion and they aren’t an exception. their feelings about him are crystal clear. if they think so poorly of him, they have no place in your life. “and i’d rather not talk to you guys if you’re going to continue to speak about him like that. i’m leaving now.”

and with that, you stand up, collect your things, and start on your way home.

• • •

rindou is in the kitchen when you walk through the door. a head of blonde hair sits at the small table, slurping up ramen noodles. the steam wafting from the bowl leaves the lenses of his gold-framed glasses foggy. your keys clatter when they meet the ceramic of the dish that holds little things like chapstick and mini box cutters. the noise grabs rindou’s attention, his gaze abandoning his food in favor of looking at your figure that approaches to take a seat next to him. he didn’t think he would see you back so soon; it felt like you had just left. but he doesn’t say a word, instead, offering you the noodles hanging from his chopsticks. you lean forward to accept the mouthful of spicy ramen. every other bite of what remains in the bowl is reserved for you.

you stay attached to his hip for the rest of the day; helping him wash the dishes even though it’s your least favorite chore, sitting in his lap and snuggling into his neck as he boots up his computer to play who knows what game with his friends—you even go as far as getting comfortable on the lid of the toilet while he takes his shower for the night. it isn’t unusual for you to take care of his hair once he emerges from the steamy room, combing out the tangled strands of blonde and blue before pulling out the hair dryer. after the locks are fluffy and dry, his hair sits in a neat bun on the top of his head. the only pieces that escape are the ones not quite long enough to be tied up with the rest.

you wonder if your actions came off as overbearing; not that you would care if they did. the conversation from earlier reminded you of how poorly people regarded your boyfriend. someone has to love him when everyone else thinks so little of him, and you’re more than happy to be that person.

and you’re content at the moment, practically lying on top of him, your fingers tracing each curve of the black ink tattooed into his skin. you can feel the thumping of his heart, hear the rhythmic beat of it in your ear.

“what’s wrong?” rindou speaks up out of the blue. so then he had noticed the shift in your behavior.

“what do you mean?” you feign ignorance. you know rindou was fully aware of his reputation, but that doesn’t stop you from wanting to shield him from the harshness of others.

“you’re even clingier than usual.”

“i’m not clingy,” you mumble against his chest.

“mm, yeah, you are.” he pinches your cheek that isn’t pressed against him. it doesn’t hurt but you look up at him regardless. lilac eyes peer down at you. the blank expression on his face may not show it, but his gaze is enough to tell you that he’s concerned. “are you gonna tell me what happened or not?”

rindou isn’t the type to push you, to make you tell him something you aren’t ready to tell. if you told him you didn’t want to talk about it, you were sure he’d let it go. but since it’s weighing so heavily on your mind, maybe it is best to share. “i brought your name up in front of some classmates and they said some pretty rude stuff about you.”

he snorts as if what you were worried about was silly. and to him, it is. it doesn’t bother him—the wandering eyes, the hushed whispers, the anxious avoidance. everything that you seem to be hyperaware of is the norm for rindou. and he can understand why it upsets you, he wouldn’t want people speaking ill of you, but he’s accustomed to his bad reputation. “i thought i told you not to let stuff like that get to you. you know i don’t give a shit about what people think.”

“well, i do.” maybe you shouldn’t, not to the extent you do, anyway. but after getting to know rindou, the real rindou, you can’t help but feel offended when people reduce him to nothing more than a no-good criminal. sure, he isn’t a saint, but he’s far from evil. what gave them the right to form opinions when they only got a glimpse of one side of him? “they shouldn’t get to judge you if they don’t even know you.”

he lets out a heavy, dramatic sigh, the breath heaving from his chest causing your head to raise. though, not long after, his lips find their way to your hairline, pressing a light kiss to the skin. his hand runs up and down your arm, “it doesn’t matter how often i tell you, huh?”

“nope.” you shamelessly reply. you’ll never stand for people demeaning the man you’ve come to love.

“how stubborn,” he clicks his tongue. it’s clear that this was a matter he won’t be able to change your mind on. of course, he doesn’t care what people think about him, but seeing you so protective of him and his image is oddly endearing. “so what, are you my defender or something?”

“mhm,” you hum, letting your eyes drift shut, “now and always.”

thanks for reading! pls consider reblogging or commenting if u enjoyed :3

#₊˚ପ⊹ signed: tokyo revengers #rindou x reader #haitani rindou x reader #tokrev x reader #tokyo revengers x reader #rindou fluff #tokrev fluff #tokyo revengers fluff #rindou drabble #tokrev drabbles #tokyo revengers drabbles

[niabang]

Club Sessions

Pairings: Bangchan × fem reader

Word count: 1.4k

Summary: Your boyfriend decided it would be fun to see how long you could hold up with a vibrator in you for the entire day.

Warnings: Smut included (MINORS DNI.), soft dom chan, sub reader, use of sex toys, semi public sex?, edging/overstim, unprotected sex (I'm sure y'all don't want babies)

You and your boyfriend were what people would call adventurous, risk takers, and maybe even crazy.

You couldn't disagree with them though because you were out in public, a club to be precise, with a vibrator deep in your pussy, and your boyfriend was constantly playing with the controls making you drop down at different intervals.

How did you get here? Well, it started as kind of a "punishment" for you being too feisty earlier today, and you had it in you all morning while doing your chores.

You were also very stubborn and told chan that you'd be able to take it just to get a reaction out of him, and you got what you wanted when he suggested that you keep it in for the whole day.

"But aren't we going out today?" You asked your boyfriend.

"What difference does that make?" He replied to your question with a question.

"Aren't people gonna know?" You asked.

"How would they know? Is this you trying to say you can't take it?" He knew exactly how to make you agree with him.

"I don't know how many times I'm going to tell you that I can take it, Chan." You said in a bit of a rude tone, and he turned up the settings just to make you eat your words.

"Okay, then be quiet and take it like a good girl." He said and placed a kiss on your forehead, then went to go do whatever he was doing.

Your boyfriend left the vibrator in the same setting for a while, and that made you think he had forgotten about you.

Just as you were celebrating internally, he turned the setting up as if he knew and you started having trouble standing.

He took it back to the lowest setting after a while and called you upstairs, where he told you to get on the bed.

You got so happy because you thought he was finally going to give in and fuck you.

You were so pathetic. You moaned just from him spreading your legs, and all this man did was take out the vibrator.

He was insane. Your pussy was pulsing and clenching around nothing and he didn't seem to care.

"Don't wanna wear you out too much before we leave." He said as he took it out of you.

Your boyfriend might have been mean, but he wasn't evil.

You both started getting ready to leave, and he called you to his work desk when you were fully dressed.

"Baby, can you come here for me." He said, tapping his desk.

When you sat down, you guys had a mini make-out sesh to prep you for the vibrator.

"Are you ready?" He asked you.

You nodded your head, and he proceeded to put it in you.

"I'm not going to turn it on till we get there, okay?" He said while you guys were in the car.

He actually stayed true to his words and turned it on just as you were getting out of the car.

You almost fell, and you heard him laugh from the front seat.

You were so not going to survive this.

You both went out with friends and naturally split into groups of men and women, so everyone was doing their own thing.

You were having a drink and a conversation with your girls when you felt the setting go a bit higher, and you almost choked.

"Y/n, are you okay?" Your friend Melanie asked you, looking concerned.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Drink almost went down the wrong pipe, that's all." You reassured your friend.

You looked around the crowd of people in search of your boyfriend, and you caught him laughing and drinking with his friends well aware of the suffering he was causing you.

Time passed, and chan was going up and down with the controls, which made you lie to your girls and tell them you were beginning to get a slight tummy ache.

You managed to keep on dancing, but it seemed chan wasn't too happy with that because he turned it up to the highest setting, and this time, he left it there.

"Oh my God." You said, and you had to squat because you really couldn't take it anymore. So much for all your smack talk.

Tears were beginning to well up in your eyes.

"Y/n, are you sure you're okay?" Your friend Melanie asked you again.

You shook your head in a no motion, and the next thing you knew, Melanie was going to get chan for you.

The next thing you felt were two strong hands picking you off the floor, and you knew it was Chan.

"Let's go." He said into your ear and dragged you along with him.

That was how you ended up in the bathrooms.

"Oh, baby, don't cry." He said as he placed you on the counter and wiped your tears.

"Do you want me to take it out?" He asked you sounding concerned, but you knew it was all fake. He loved seeing you suffer.

You nodded your head and at your signal chan reached under the black mini dress you were wearing, slid your panties to the side, and then took the vibrator out, making you moan.

"Chan, please." You said after he put the vibrator in his pocket and was about to leave.

"Please, what?" He asked you.

"I need you." You replied.

"Okay, baby, let's get back home first."

"No Chan please I need you now." You whined.

"But we can't go here, baby someone might walk in." He said while leaving kisses all over your neck.

He was getting you too riled up for someone who was disagreeing.

"It doesn't matter." You told him.

"Oh, you naughty girl. Come here." You finally got what you wanted as chan wrapped a hand around your throat and started kissing you hungrily. You couldn't help but moan.

He brought you down from the counter and helped you take off your panties.

"Baby, I'm going to need you to be quiet for me, okay?" He parted your lips, scrunched your underwear, and then put it into your mouth to act as a gag.

He then turned you around and bent you over the counter. He rolled your dress up so your ass and cunt were exposed to him and you heard him groan.

He gave himself a few pumps and told you he was going to be fast.

It was almost as if you weren't stretched out and violently edged for hours because all chan could talk about was how tight you were and how well you wrapped around his cock.

Chan was moving in and out of you fast and hard, and he just knew how to hit that spot.

The panty he shoved in your mouth was practically useless because he had to use one hand to cover your mouth, too.

It wasn't your fault he was a literal sex god.

Chan let you cum so easily he probably felt bad about edging you for so long. Your legs were shaking at your release, and he took your panties out of your mouth and put them in his pocket.

He pulled your dress down and wiped your tears. Plus, a kiss on your forehead. He always gave you kisses whenever you guys were done.

"Let's go home." He said to you.

"What about our friends?" You asked him because it'd be rude to leave without letting them know.

"We'll tell them that you got sick, let's go." You both made your way to the car.

There was just something about chan. He always made sure you finished first or together. He didn't bother if he didn't get to. He always said he was happy as long as you did.

"Chan, you didn't finish." You said as you buckled your seat belt.

"It's fine. I'm good as long as you're good." He said while starting the engine.

"Use me." You said to him.

"Huh?" He asked you.

"Fuck me the way you want to and use me to cum." You told him meaning every bit of it.

"Fuck." Chan said and took off his seat belt.

Thank God it was late in the night, and your windows were tinted.

#stray kids #bang chan #kpop #kpop tumblr #bangchan fanfic #stray kids fanfic #kpop fanfic #stray kids bang chan #skz bang chan #bangchan smut #bangchan stray kids #bang chris #bangchan hard thoughts #bangchan hard hours #skz smut #skz x reader #skz #skz fanfic #skz hard thoughts #skz hard hours #stray kids smut #stray kids hard thoughts #stray kids hard hours #soft d0m #sub reader #established relationship #kpop smut #smut #bangchan skz #dom bang chan

[paradiseprincesss]

Omg hi!!! I absolutely LOVED espresso it's so cute!! Would you be open to doing some major fluff with Jim (delinquent season)? Thanks so much!!!!

CPR - jim (delinquent season) x reader

hello lovely anon! THANK YOU! that means so much to me i appreciate your kind words! and yes, of course, we love love LOVE jim over here - he is criminally underrated. he's dreamy.

song: CPR by summer walker

summary: after a shitty, messy, and rough divorce, jim is hesitant to love again - but he falls for a younger woman who changes his mind, and teaches him how to love again.

warnings: so there is a large age gap (everyone is of legal age, jim is in his mid forties, reader is just described as 'in college,' so take that how you will), kissing, swearing, divorce, jim's employed as a professor but the reader isn't his student! other than that, no warnings just fluff lol

we don't chose who we fall in love with - at least, that's what jim always thought, and that's what he told himself.

jim never pictured himself to be the type of guy to date a younger woman, he always thought it was a little strange actually because what would someone his age have in common with someone roughly 20 years younger than him?

well, more than he thought.

he didn't intend on falling in love with you. he just...did. jim met you through a friend of his, weirdly enough. he had just finalized his divorce with his ex-wife, which was messy and screwed his perception of love up quite a bit - anyone would feel that way after finding out that their spouse of over a decade was having an affair.

so yeah, jim had some issues revolving around love.

with that being said, when an old college buddy of his (who he talked to a few times a year at most through facebook or text, and occasionally over the phone) had rung him up about how he had moved back to ireland and was having some old friends over for dinner just for old times sake, he figured sure, he'd go since he had nothing better to do.

fast forward to a week later, he showed up in his usual attire - casual slacks and sweater - and was greeted by a handful of his old college friends. jim couldn't lie - it was nostalgic, and frankly, kind of refreshing to be out socializing and living life again after his divorce. it had been a good 6 months since the divorce, and he was honestly feeling good for once.

"jim, hey!" his old college roommate, dan, greeted him at the door. "come on in, we're just having some beers in the living room, the games gonna be on soon."

the night went well, jim got to catch up with his old buddies from his college days, and they spent the evening drinking beers and fussing over the game on tv.

"so, i heard 'bout the ex-wife. hey, i'm sorry, man." another old acquaintance of his, ryan, had said to him.

jim laughed lightly, "s'alright. shit happens, i guess." to which all the other men just murmured and agreed with.

the conversations flowed well, and honestly - it felt good to rant about his ex-wife with some old buddies, and openly talk about his divorce like this - what she did was fucked up. he felt like he needed to and should be able to vent, too.

as the men were busy shouting at the tv, beers in hand, a softer voice called out, "dad?" and jim's buddy dan looked over his shoulder to see his daughter, standing in the doorway of the living room with a small smile.

jim looked away from the game momentarily, out of curiosity - and good god did his heart stop when he did. he was aware that dan had a daughter in college and he knew of her name, but he didn't realize how beautiful she was. the two of them locked eyes for a split second, and he looked away slightly embarrassed.

he didn't really know why he was embarrassed, it's not like he was doing anything shameful or wrong - but finding your friends daughter who was still a college student when he was in his forties was definitely wrong in a sense, well- to a certain degree.

"oh, hey sweetie, i didn't even realize you were still up." dan says to his daughter.

"it's only..." you pause, checking your phone, "half past eight, dad. plus, i'm stuck on this stupid essay my professor assigned to us yesterday." you laugh softly - lightheartedly, and jim felt his heart skip a few beats.

"oh, that's no good," dan says, "jim's a professor, i'm sure he won't mind if you asked him a few questions - maybe he can help you." your dad shrugs, looking at jim and then focusing back on the game.

you blush slightly, and you knew your dad was just being friendly and trying to be helpful - but suggesting you get his older (and really attractive!) friend who just so happened to be a professor to help you with your essay seemed...well, it was like one of those storylines you'd see in a movie, or a book...or something.

"um, dad, i'm sure jim doesn't want to step away from watching the game to help with homework-" you start to say, but in a moment of confidence (and a little alcohol), jim cut you off with a gentle tone.

"no- no, it's no worries, really. i was going to get up and grab another pint anyways." he says, getting up to go to the kitchen. you just walk with him into the kitchen, somewhat at a loss for words.

you get a better look at him under the dimmed kitchen lights, and you could already feel yourself getting nervous in his presence. you never found any of your dads friends attractive before - but jim, well, he was different.

the salt and pepper hair was...really hot. and god, those eyes. those glacier coloured eyes; you barely had a chance to even meet the man and somehow he had you in a chokehold before you spoke more than just a few sentences to each other.

"so," he broke the silence, "watcha studying?"

you quietly told him what you were majoring in, and he nodded, smiling at you softly, "well, i don't teach that particular subject or major - but i'll try and help you out regardless."

you retuned the small smile, "y-yeah, okay. cool."

for the next hour or so, the two of you sat closely next to one another at the dining table, your textbooks and papers sprawled out in front of you, with the doc you were writing open on your laptop. he helped you structure your essay and the two of you were about 80% done with it - that was until he requested that you turn back the page of your textbook.

"wait, go back to page 116 i think it says something about that at the bottom of the page." he tells you, reaching out to turn the pages back in the textbook. however, you also reached to turn the page back - causing the both of your hands to touch, to swiftly brush against each other.

with a small blush, you quickly pull back, still nervous. "sorry."

he laughs softly, shaking his head, "no need to be sorry."

taking a deep breath, you respond, "sorry- sorry, i keep saying sorry-"

"you okay?" he offers a gentle smile, and you felt your heart start racing a million miles per minute. you weren't one to get easily flustered like this - you never got this nervous, certainly not around guys your own age, at least.

jim didn't know why - but he felt the same way. however, he tried to play it cool. he had been on a few dates with a few different women here and there post divorce, but all of them were dead ends. however, with you, it almost felt like he had known you for a lifetime even though he had only just met you.

"yeah, just..." you trailed off, seemingly at a loss for words again. he looked at you with an expression that you couldn't quite read, and his gaze flickered to your lips - then back to your face. "just what?" he whispers to you, and you felt yourself drowning in his impossibly blue eyes.

suddenly, you felt his gentle hand on your thigh, and your breath hitched as he whispered to you again. "just what?"

"just kiss me." you whisper back, and with that, his hands were gently coming up to cup your face, and he kissed you softly.

you'd never kissed someone so much older than you before, and the thought of it made your head dizzy. after a moment, the both of you pulled away from the kiss, but his hand remained on your face.

"is it...is it strange if i ask you if i could take you out to dinner sometime?" he asks quietly, and you felt your cheeks heat up at the question.

"not at all, i'd love that." you smile at him.

again, falling in love wasn't part of the plan, but jim didn't really have a choice when it came to you. it just happened so naturally.

"sweetheart?' you hear his voice call out softly and the sound of the door closing, and you turn around to see him coming home from work - god, you loved when he wore his little sweaters with the sleeves rolled up half way - it really got you going.

"baby, hi." you greet him softly, bundled up in a blanket on the couch of his living room. "how was work?"

he slumps down beside you, pulling you into him softly with a sigh, kissing the top of your head. "it was alright, finished teaching my lecture earlier than expected so that was good." he tells you, voice gentle and tone loving.

"mm, well i'm glad to have you home early." you tell him sweetly, pulling him into a chaste kiss.

"what would you like for dinner, sweetheart?" he asks you, and you shrug, "jim, you worked all day, you don't have to make dinner it's fine." to which he shook his head and insisted, "how about some pasta?"

"jim," you whine softly, "you're so cute, i love you."

"i love you too, honey." he says, kissing you again.

after the date you two had, things just seemed to flow effortlessly. you'd never been with an older man before - and he was so very attentive to your every need, every want, every boundary you had - he took things slow with you, never ever pressuring you into anything.

now, six months later, you and jim had been dating for a few months, while you were still adjusting to dating someone roughly 20 years your senior - it was something you wouldn't change.

jim felt the same way - things were different with you. being with a younger woman was fun, it was new. you taught him things as much as he taught you things. with his ex-wife, there was no trust. no real love. no meaning to life, even though the two of them had kids together, it didn't change the fact that he always felt like he was married to someone he didn't know - a stranger.

you weren't a stranger, though - no, you were quite the opposite to him. you made him feel at home, you were his home. he often found himself wondering where he'd be if you weren't by his side. probably gone, he thinks.

after dinner and a steamy shower together, the two of you laid in his bed together, your head on his chest and his arms holding you in a warm embrace.

"...i want you to meet my kids." he suddenly tells you, and you turn your head to look up at him with love in your eyes, "yeah?" you whisper, causing him to whisper back a quiet "yeah" back to you.

he softly takes your hand and intertwines it with his own, a content sigh leaving his lips. "would you ever want to get married again?" you ask quietly - not even sure why you felt the sudden urge to ask that, but you did anyway.

he was quiet for a moment.

jim never thought he would re-marry, in fact, he didn't even think he'd ever find someone that he would want to marry after his ex-wife. but that was before he found you.

"i wouldn't ask you to meet my kids if i didn't plan on marrying you." he finally says, pulling you even closer. your breath hitched when he confessed that, and you felt yourself blushing a little too. "you mean that?" you ask him, to which he squeezed your hand.

"you made me love again - i sound corny, but i'm dead serious. i was at the end, then you came into my life... you made me feel like there was life worth living."

"oh, jim," you whisper, a little breathless at his continuous admissions about how much he loved you, "you're my everything."

he looked at you with admiration, and smiled softly at you. you were his everything, too. he often wondered if you knew that. if you knew how much he adored you. in a world where he felt like nobody understood him - you did. you were the only one he ever confided in.

your love fixed all his pain, your love fixed his heart - and you didn't even know. you didn't even know how much you were fixing a heart that you didn't break.

he felt like he was revived in a sense - brought back to life from the dead. brought back from his inevitable death of a marriage that had minced his heart. but now, things were different because he had you.

and you - you were the only thing that could jumpstart his flatlining heart again - like CPR.

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy x reader #cillian x reader #jonathan crane x f!reader #jonathan crane x reader #cillian fic #cillian murphy fanfic #cillian murphy imagine #cillian x fem!reader #jim the delinquent season #jim delinquent season #jim delinquent season x reader #jim x reader #the delinquent season imagine #robert fischer x y/n #robert fischer x reader #robert fischer #robert fischer imagine

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

I was reading your tweel analyses posts and came across the little blurb of Floyd and Jade eating octopus in front of Azul and seemingly relishing in it because it might unsettle him and they're little shits. their fave foods having octopus in them makes sense since it's part of a diet of moray eels

here's a question I don't see many asking: does Azul eat octopus dishes? I think everyone is aware that octopus can (and do) cannibalize each other (even self-cannibalize) but he is still an octopus merman. do you think the animal based mers like the octatrio view the animals they share similarities with as a completely separate species from them and therefore not care when eating them? or is it sort of like a human and big ape thing, where it is highly uncomfortable and generally frowned upon?

[Referencing this post!]

I think Azul refrains from eating octopus himself! The reasoning being that… well, it’s really a gut feeling that’s informed by my observations of the Octatrio’s interactions.

If he looked annoyed watching the twins eat octopus, then that indicates he feels a certain way in that scenario—a discomfort or irritation which would then extend to his own dietary habits. If Azul did eat octopus, then why should he take issue with his peers doing the same? If both moray eels and octopus dine on octopus, why would he only be distressed in one scenario and not the other? Why would Jade and Floyd go out of their way to eat tons of octopus in front of Azul and bring up mentions of how delicious his merform is, if not to tease and unnerve him?

I do think that merpeople view non-sentient sea creatures they share traits with as separate beings in the food chain. This is why the twins can eat regular ol’ octopus without an issue. However, I also think that eating a creature that is of the same “type” as you (ie Azul and an octopus) is seen as morally wrong, as they too closely resemble the merpeople in question. This would be similar to how humans are fine with eating cow, pig, and chicken, but are far less willing to consume primates. It’s the “human” part of them—of us—our consciouses calling out to us and letting us know “hey, rhis is wrong”.

Merpeople may be part man and part fish, but I believe they are mainly human with additional fish traits and attributes; their thinking and behaviors are still very human, so I feel they share some similarities with humans in their moral and ethical codes.

The difficulty with half human/half animal fantasy races is that there will always be the debate of how much their animalistic side plays into their behaviors and how much of that can be overridden by their human side. For example, just because Leona is a lion beastman doesn’t mean he can’t eat vegetables, he just does not like them. This is in spite of lions being carnivores (ie exclusively dining on meat). We also see (or it is implied) many merfolk and beastmen eating food that would harm or kill their non-sentient counterparts (such as candy and chocolates during Halloween; you’d think they would otherwise express repulsion if offered what is basically poison to them). The “beastial” TWST characters in general don’t seem too strict on their food intake (specialized diets for athletes aside), so my guess is that their intakes lean more toward the omnivorous intakes of humans rather than the diet prescribed by the animals that are a part of them. After all… if Azul ate octopus, bro would be nomming on his own arm or something (since auto-cannibalism is a thing among octopus) 😭

Imagine walking in on that though????? I’d say, “Sorry to disturb you, sir! I’ll see myself out now,” then slowly shut the door and back away…

#twisted wonderland #twst #Azul Ashengrotto #Octavinelle #Leona Kingscholar #Tweels #Jade Leech #Floyd Leech #notes from the writing raven #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #question #tw // cannibalism #tw // auto cannibalism #twst theory #twst theories #twisted wonderland theory #twisted wonderland theories

[calaisreno]

The Case of the Missing Bridegroom

The sequel to Reluctant Bridegroom. 1700 words / Prompt: Cold

Summary: Mrs Hudson does not make tea, Mycroft speaks in italics, and Sherlock goes for a walk.

Mrs Hudson is frowning at him; he gradually becomes aware that she’s been talking. 

Blinking, he looks up. “Hm?”

“I said, do you like her?”

“Who?”

“Mary.”

“Oh, yes. She’s great. Are you making tea?”

Ignoring his implied request, she continues. “She seems clever.”

“Clever? Yes, she is. Quite.” 

…only child linguist Clever part time nurse Shortsighted Guardian Bakes Own Bread Disillusioned Cat Lover Romantic Appendix Scar Lib Dem Secret Tattoo Size 12 Liar…

Liar. 

That might be where to begin his investigation.

“Sherlock.” She clicks her tongue. “You must have known.”

“Known? What are you jabbering about, Mrs Hudson?”

“You must have known he’d move on while you were gone.”

He doesn’t have an answer for this. 

“He’s just that kind of person,” she adds.

“The moving on kind?”

“No, he’s the staying kind, but you left. What was he supposed to do? He thought you were dead.”

Sherlock puts his head down and mumbles incoherently. Maybe she will take the hint and make tea. And bring up some biscuits as well. 

“Sherlock.” She sits in John’s chair. “He’s not like you, love. Not a loner. He needs someone. He had you, and when you died—”

“He didn’t have me, Mrs Hudson. We weren’t like that.”

She gives him the look that means he’s an idiot. “Maybe not, but there was something there. And John needed that. He was lost without you. I’m sure he wouldn’t have found Mary if you’d come home a bit sooner.”

“Well, I’m sure they’ll be very happy.”

She makes a scoffing noise. “You know that’s not true.”

He scoffs back at her. “As I understand it, people who are engaged to be married often go through a period of regret. Cold feet, it’s called. Fear of change. A reluctance to follow through. He’ll get over it.”

“Will he?” 

Before Mrs Hudson can explain to him why he’s wrong, his phone buzzes with a text.

John’s missing. M

It takes him just a second to realise it’s Mary.  

He never came home last night. Won’t answer my texts. M

 I’ll find him. SH

Liar. He opens his phone and begins to type a message. Before he can hit send, his phone rings.

“He’s not an idiot, Sherlock.”

“Where is he, Mycroft? I know you have surveillance on him. What I want to know is why?”

“Let’s just say, he’s attracted the attention of someone we’ve been watching. You need not worry.”

He pinches the bridge of his nose. “Mycroft, I’m not in the mood for—”

“Miss Morstan. What do you know about her?”

“Why don’t you just tell me what you know? As I recall, you said you’d keep Moriarty’s London people away from him.”

“She’s not one of Moriarty’s. Just a freelancer, recently retired.”

“When were you going to tell me? More importantly, when were you going to tell John?”

“Doctor Watson is not an idiot, as I’ve said. His decision to propose to her was rash, I thought, but I’m fairly sure he’s having cold feet since you have returned.”

Mycroft speaks in italics only when he’s amused, Sherlock notes. “Just tell me where he is.”

“I think you can deduce,” Mycroft replies. 

I must be getting slow, he thinks. He’s just been to all the places John used to go when he ‘needed some air’ and slammed the door of the flat behind him. He’s been to five pubs, popped into three coffee shops, and walked the perimeter of the park twice.

Home again, he sits on the stairs, conceding defeat. 

His phone rings. 

“Mycroft.”

“It’s very simple, Sherlock. He’s gone home.”

He nods. It would have been nice if Mary had texted to say—

“Home, Sherlock.”

His head jerks up. Ending the call, he runs up the two flights to John’s room. He knocks and cracks the door open. “John?”

The shape in the bed stirs, rolls over and blinks at him. “Sherlock?”

“John, what are you doing here?”

“Needed to think.” He sits up. “Went around the park a few times last night after I left. More than a few. Decided to sleep here.”

Sherlock steps into the room. When John lived here, Sherlock rarely respected his privacy, barging into the room at any hour. Now, it feels like an invasion. 

“May I?”

John nods, and Sherlock sits on the bed. “What’s wrong?”

“You always told me I see but do not observe. I’m a bit slow, but I did actually learn a few things living with you.” He smiles. “After you died, I could barely cope. I sleepwalked through every day. And then, you came back, and it was like I woke up.”

“I’m sorry. I had no idea you’d be so affected.”

“I believe you. As angry as I’ve been, I have forgiven you. Since you came back, I’ve been awake. And I’ve noticed things… that disturb me.”

“What things?”

“In the cab going home that night, Mary kept talking, and I just had this feeling… she wasn’t who she said she was. So I did what you would do. I investigated. I called her job references. I looked up her employment history. I went through her things when she was out. And I made a deduction.”

“Yes?”

“I think you already know, Sherlock. Mary didn’t exist until a couple years ago. I don’t know who the woman I’m engaged to is, but Mary Morstan was an infant who died in 1972. Stillborn. She’s borrowed a name, made a new life. And for some reason, she took a job at my surgery.” He looks at Sherlock. “Maybe she has a good reason, but my spidey-senses are tingling.”

“Spidey-senses?”

“Spider Man. He can always sense danger.”

“Well, you always did. You knew whenever I was getting myself into trouble. So, what are you going to do?”

“I’m going to tell her the truth.”

“You should know, Mycroft’s people have been watching her. She’s freelance, recently retired. It might not be good to confront her with what you know. She may feel cornered, and that could be dangerous.”

“Not that truth, Sherlock. I don’t need to know who she is, but I’m not going to marry her.”

“But… what reason will you give?”

“I’ll tell her…” John looks down at his hands, licks his lips, and whispers, “I’m in love with my best friend.”

“You’re in love with Mike Stamford? Inconvenient, as he’s married and has four—no, five children.”

“Mike is not my best friend.”

“Gavin?”

“Who?”

“Gavin Lestrade.”

“Sherlock, Greg is a friend, but not my best friend. I’m in love with you.”

“Oh. You’re— I see. You will pretend you’re in love with me, which will soften the blow and allow her to bow out without compromising her assumed identity—”

“Sherlock, I’m not pretending I’m in love with you. I really am in love with you. I know you don’t do that—love is a dangerous distraction, sentiment on the losing side, blah, blah… That’s okay. If you’ll let me, I’d like to move back here. I not asking for—”

He doesn’t remember grabbing John and kissing him, but when his brain comes back on line, they’re lying on John’s bed, and John’s looking at him like he’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. 

John loves him.

“I won’t pretend,” he tells John. “No fake relationships. If you’re going to make love confessions like that, just casually dropping I love yous on me, you’d better be prepared for the real thing. I love you. And just so you understand me properly, only one bedroom will be needed.”

John laughs. “Well, that went better than I expected. Now I only have to break up with Mary.”

Sitting up, Sherlock grabs his phone and texts Mycroft. “The British Government can handle that, I think. Now, kiss me.”

@keirgreeneyes @totallysilvergirl @redmondcollege @lisbeth-kk @ninasnakie

#mayprompts2024 #my fics #johnlock