#i have a few reverse harem ideas

[orchid3a]

i need to write reverse harem... i need it

#📢- aria is talking #i need it like air #i have a few reverse harem ideas #goood #help meeeees

[hannie-dul-set]

THREE'S A CROWD — [preview].

SYNOPSIS. three of your friends fight for your affection, totally not because they like you— but simply because they can’t stand the idea of you liking someone else.

PAIRINGS. jung sungchan, park wonbin, hong seunghan x female! reader. GENRE. college! au, rom-com, reverse harem, just a bunch of arrogant and silly little boys in denial, a collection of italicized oh moments in succession, featuring the rest of riize and nct. WARNINGS. swearing, explicit language, mild possessiveness, so much petty and childish behavior, drinking, breaking and entering, may add more in the full fic. WORD COUNT. preview: 3.2k | full fic: est. 15-18k.

RELEASE DATE. november to december. TAGLIST. send an ask/dm/reply to be added.

NOTE. i said i'd do it. so i did. i am. and i'm having so much fun writing another shitstorm of a harem so i hope you find this as fun as i do HAHAHHAHA. sick and tired of seeing nothing but smut under the riize x reader tag so here is my contribution to society. you're welcome.

preview under the cut.

THERE ARE CURRENTLY THREE HEADS IN THE MALE DORMITORY LOUNGE. One is Sungchan, tinkering with the foosball table by himself because the other two heads are refusing to play with him. Second is Wonbin laid comfortably on the couch, headphones on and using his lap as a drum set. Last is Seunghan, on the floor for some reason, and eyes trained intently on his phone with his thumbs tapping on the screen like a madman.

The number gets added when Sohee rushes in from the front door, a large McDonald’s paper bag in hand and four large cups of soda in the other. “Order’s here!” he announces. The three heads quickly pop up from their respective businesses and congregate to the dining corner of the room.

“Fuck,” Sungchan groans, following the scent of the warm, freshly cooked mcnuggets on the table. The other three are already seated and poking holes in their soda cups. Sungchan is still groaning like a zombie. The two open nugget boxes are enticing him. He won’t . He must not. “I can’t eat. I forgot I had dinner plans tonight.”

“With a girl?” Sohee asks. The number of nuggets is depleting by the second. If the rest of the guys come down, there will be none left for him.

“Yes,” Sungchan replies. He swallows hard. Wonbin takes the boot shaped chicken right before his very eyes. This is torture.

Seunghan scrunches his nose, mid-nugget. “Boo. You whore. It’s guys night. How can you do this to us?” 

“A few nuggets can’t hurt,” says Wonbin. He pokes the box closer to Sungchan. 

“You’re right. Move over.”

They snort at his flimsy conviction. Sungchan argues that he is simply experiencing the delicacies of both the east and the west tonight. You’re supposed to have Japanese with him tonight. There is nothing wrong with cross-cultural enjoyment. He is simply diversifying his palate.

“So, is it a date?” asks Seunghan.

“No. I’m just eating out with a friend.”

“Just the two of you?” 

Wonbin raises a brow with the question. Sungchan counts the numbers in his head. “Yeah.” If he eats another nugget, then that would make it five. Five can be counted with only one hand. That isn’t a lot. This is fine.

“Oh man,” Sohee snickers. “Yeah. I’m pretty sure that’s a date.”

“No way!” he defends, the fifth and final nugget stuffed in his mouth. Sungchan swallows before continuing, wiping his hand on the pile of tissue papers on the table. “It’s not a date. I mean, she did tell me that she has a little crush on me, but it’s not a date.”

The three don’t miss the slight curl of his lips— a bastard’s sly grin. It’s a date. It’s definitely a date. Seunghan gives him a hard smack on the back. “The girl has a crush on you, how is it not a date, you piece of shit?”

“Ow! Hey!” he glares at him. “It really isn’t! We even had a whole talk we’re keeping it strictly platonic. I’m not interested in her in that way and she knows that. I’m not doing anything wrong here!”

There’s both disappointment and judgment in Wonbin’s face. “Quit leading her on.”

Sungchan gasps. “I’m not!”

“Who is it anyway?” Sohee asks right before taking an obnoxious sip on his soda. “Maybe I know her.”

“Well, I doubt it,” he starts. “I’m pretty sure you guys don’t know her, but she’s—”

Your name stumbles out of Sungchan’s mouth. It falls quiet, save for Sungchan’s explanation that he met you through the soccer team’s captain, Nakamoto Yuta, and that he’s known you for around half a year now. You’re in different majors, but it turns out you have quite a lot of friends from his team, so you bump into each other a lot. Sungchan knew about your crush on him early into your acquaintanceship— which is why having dinner with you and just you isn’t, “and shouldn’t be that big of a deal! It’s not a date. Seriously.”

“Okay, it’s not a date,” Sohee relents. Sungchan nods proudly at his victory.

“Yes. It is not.”

“But you know what’s funny—” Sohee’s eyes move to Seunghan. “The girl you told me about has the same name. What a coincidence.”

Seunghan is sitting on the table like a mound of stone. He’s got a half-eaten nugget in his hands. He’s not putting it in his mouth. “That’s right,” he simply says. There’s a faraway look in his eyes. “That is pretty funny. What a coincidence.” Coincidence, Seunghan repeats in his head. Yes. It must be a coincidence. He nods to himself and throws the nugget remnants into his mouth, satisfied with that conclusion.

“What girl?” Wonbin rouses. Seunghan turns his head to him sharply.

“Oh,” he says. “A friend from highschool.”

“A friend that’s had feelings for him since highschool,” Sohee grins. “You said she was pretty. Why didn’t you two start dating?”

Is this the chicken’s fault? Why the heck does everything keep circling back to dating? “I don’t know. I’ve just never seen her in that light,” Seunghan explains. He doesn’t know why he’s getting riled up, but he is. “And just because someone confessed to you doesn’t mean they want to start dating. Dude, I feel like you’re the one that should go and find a date. Being single is getting to your head.”

Seunghan has been friends with you since eleventh grade, being classmates and all. You confessed to him early into grade twelve, and even though he didn’t return your feelings, it was never awkward because you never acted differently. In fact, sometimes he second guesses if it actually happened. Just a few days ago, he asked if you still like him to confirm. All you said was, “yeah, why?” and continued working on your assignment. That’s why sometimes he forgets. That’s why it’s not worth bringing up.

Until now, when your name suddenly keeps popping up. Wonbin utters the same. Seunghan and Sungchan’s head quickly snap towards him. “You guys aren’t talking about SM-ARTS Chairperson, right?”

SM-ARTS is an art organization in your university. It’s been a well known org since its foundation— half because of its achievements, half because of its stupid (smart) name. “That’s...yes, that is her.” Seunghan gets a bad feeling. A really bad fucking feeling, and it’s not just having too much unhealthy chicken nuggets from McDonald’s. “Why? Do you also know her?”

“Of course I do. I’m literally her Vice Chair,” Wonbin furrows his brows. This is strange. He’s been working with you since the beginning of the year and you’ve never mentioned a Jung Sungchan nor a Hong Seunghan before. What’s even stranger is their assertions that you have feelings for them. You. For them. It’s a ridiculous thought to entertain because, “she literally told me that he has a crush on me. What are you two talking about?”

Wonbin couldn’t get a more direct confession than yours. It’s typical for the rest of your org officers and members to tease the both of you— the snickers and hollers when you’d call him to discuss something in private, the teasing saying you two look good together. Hell, some of the kids even call you both mom and dad and it’s gone to the point where he’s told them off to quit it because you might be uncomfortable. But you’d always say, “it’s fine,” and “you didn’t mind,” with a sweet smile on your face. Now, he’s no stranger to those insinuations, and for the sake of your professional relationship, he needed your denial or agreement.

Turns out, you do have a crush on him.

So this has become very, very awkward.

“Maybe—” Sungchan stammers. “Maybe...maybe we’re each talking about a different person, maybe there’s actually three different— oh, hey. What are you doing here?”

Speak of the devil and she shall appear.

“Hey!” 

The sound of your voice bouncing around the male dormitory walls feel foreign and jarring, especially after the conversation that had just transpired. You set down your bag on their couch, walking up to them with a bright smile that doesn’t match their vibe at all.

There’s tension in the air. A very thick and palpable tension and the three are exchanging glances and looks as if to say, ‘Go on. Go say hi to her first if she’s the girl you’ve been talking about.’

But you beat them to it. “Wow. I didn’t think you three knew each other!” you exclaim, skipping over to the dining corner where you find yourself in the gap between Sungchan and Seunghan. The two flinch at the closeness of your presence. Wonbin tightens his jaw. “Anyway, is Shotaro around? I need to talk to him about our trip this weekend, but he’s not replying.”

“He’s in his room. Upstairs. Fourth floor.” 

It’s not a competition, but hearing how quickly the response falls out of Wonbin’s lips sure does makes it seem like it is. Sungchan has his mouth open, gives Wonbin a look, before closing it again. Seunghan never even got the chance, and Sohee is looking at the scene unfold like it’s a goddamned trashy movie.

“Great, thanks!” you beam. “Oh, and we’re still up for dinner tonight, right?”

They can’t go for another speed contest because the question is reserved for one person only— Sungchan, who seems to be caught off guard. “Yeah. Absolutely,” he manages to squeeze out. You smile.

“Sweet. Wonbin, have you prepared the documents I asked for tomorrow’s meeting?”

It’s like a question carousel. “I’ll send them later for you to review.”

“Perfect! Right, and Seunghan—” There goes another rotation. “Mind driving me to the reunion this Friday? Jaeha bailed on me at the last minute, that son of a bitch.”

Seunghan blinks at you, in a daze. “Sure.”

“Nice! And you—”

Your attention lands on the last person at the table. Sungchan, Wonbin, and Seunghan didn’t expect you to even entertain him. “Sohee,” their friend fills in, a little taken aback. You flash him a bright grin.

“Sohee! Nice to meet you! Love your necklace. Very chic.”

For some reason the smile on Sohee’s face is annoying to the other three boys. “Thanks!” he says. “Have a nugget before you go.” They didn’t think it was possible, but somehow your face glows even brighter and you lean down, still between Seunghan and Sungchan, to pick up a piece from the box. 

“Thought you guys would never offer. Thank you! I’ll see you around!”

With that you disappear up the stairs, and you take all the noise and the life in the room with you. It’s quiet. So quiet— almost like there’s a standoff. That is until Sohee clears his throat, still pink from the compliment you gave him, and says, “Well. Seems like she’s the same person.” 

No fucking shit, she’s the same person. They can’t keep making excuses anymore. 

Seunghan tries to play it off with a laugh. “I can’t believe you guys would lie and joke about her having a crush on you.” His laugh isn’t well taken by the other two. It spirals down to shit all too quickly.

“What do you mean ‘lie’?” Wonbin narrows his eyes.

Sungchan hollers in. “Yeah, if anything, you’re the one that’s lying! You and him both!”

“Why would I lie?!” Seunghan protests.

“I don’t know— maybe because you’re jealous that she likes me and not either of you?”

Before they can start throwing fists, Sohee interrupts by making himself the collective target. “Have you guys considered,” he starts, hands solemnly pressed together above the crumb littered table. “That she might have a tinge of feelings for all three of you? Not just one?”

They pause in consideration. It takes them five seconds to brush him off.

“That doesn’t make sense.”

“No way.”

“Why would she?”

Sohee sighs and gives up. He hears a set of footsteps rushing down and hopes it’s you, so that his three friends would finally quit it. It is you, and Sohee lifts up. Your timing is impeccable. He’s almost convinced you’ve been listening the whole time.

“Hey,” you greet them once again, flashing a smile once, before going off to retrieve your bag from the couch. The three quiet down instantaneously and have resigned to glaring at each other in seething silence. Seunghan isn’t very good at glaring at people, so he reorganizes his strategy instead.

“How’s the thing with Taro hyung?” he asks, twisting his chair to face you better. Sungchan and Wonbin give him a dirty look. That bastard. He’s even considering body language into play.

“Oh! The trip is canceled.” You sling your bag over your shoulder. “So my Sunday has been cleared. Do you guys want to make plans?”

Crap.

You just tossed them a bone.

Sohee is sure this isn’t gonna end pretty.

“Why don’t we go on a date?”

All eyes are wide. Their heads snap in the direction of Wonbin— the fast bastard. His expression is nonchalant, but his shaking knee from under the table says otherwise. “There’s a contemporary art exhibit opening downtown. Let’s check it out together,” This bitch, Sungchan’s expression seems to say. Seunghan’s disappointment seeps through the air.

“Like. A date, date?” you confirm, eyes batting expectantly, as if you have a barrier against the palpably sour and rotten mood flooding the room in ominous swirls.

“Yeah,” Wonbin confirms. He’s lucky you’re too far away to notice the sweat dripping down his neck. “Is...is that a problem? You said you liked me. Why don’t we give it a shot?”

All hell breaks loose the moment you entertain them with flustered cheeks and a shy smile.

“No! Don’t go!” Sungchan’s had it. He can’t take this anymore. “If there’s anyone you should be going out with, it should be me! You like me! Not them!”

Seunghan has left his seat and has scrambled over to you. Wonbin and Sungchan’s eyes widen. They aren’t letting him do this. They quickly follow suit but Seunghan already has a firm hold on your arms and is looking deep into your eyes. He’s put up an invisible barrier. Fuck, that sneaky bastard.

“Were you actually serious when you said that you had a crush on me since eleventh grade?” His voice cracks. If he’s trying to tap into your pity, then it’s definitely fucking working. “But why are these two saying you like them? What about us?! Am I nothing to y—”

Your index finger finds its way over Seunghan’s lips. Silence befalls. Your blank face settles into a sound smile.

“Well,” you pry Seunghan’s hands off you, still smiling pleasantly at all of them. What is this ominous feeling? Why doesn’t it seem like you’re actually smiling at them? “As far as I remember, none of you returned my confessions.”

It’s like a hammer hits all three of them at once.

“And I still like you Seunghan. We literally talked about it the other day.” You gave him a two word answer then brushed him off your essay. That was hardly a conversation. Seunghan feels wronged beyond words.

“How—how about me?”

You look over to Sungchan, who looks arguably like a kicked puppy. “What about you?”

“Well,” he clears his throat, a faint blush coating his ears. “Do you still, uh, have feelings for me too, or—”

“Sungchan, do you think I’d have kept asking you to have dinner alone with me every week if I didn’t like you?” He blinks. Beside him, Wonbin points a finger to himself. You let out a breath. “I’d be blind and tasteless if I wasn’t into you, Wonbin. Especially after working closely together since the beginning of the year. Why are you guys asking me this?”

Sohee has stopped liking all these ominous periods of silence because they’re signs that even more chaos is about to ensue. His three friends’ eyes look empty and hollow as they stare at you. Oh god, they’re far gone.

“So,” Wonbin starts.

“You like us,” Seunghan follows.

“Like all three of us,” Sungchan finishes. 

You give them a smile reminiscent of a kindergarten teacher feeling a swell of pride after her student finishes reciting the alphabet. Sohee feels sympathy pains for his friends. “Yup. I also have a crush on Johnny from med, but he’s graduating soon, so that’s a bummer. Oh! And our TA Jung Jaehyun! He has the face of a god!” Oh, dear. You stomp on them then finish it off with a spit on their faces. Sohee bites his lip, feeling both horrendously bad and curious as to how this shitshow will conclude. 

The three simmer in silence. You give them a raised brow.

“Why? Is there a problem?”

Oh, there’s a fucking problem, alright.

“Why are you guys looking at me like that? I did confess to all three of you saying I have a crush on you, but I never said I was in love with you.”

Well, damn.

Neither of them like you like that, but that shit hurt for no fucking reason.

“Don’t think too much of it, sillies! And I don’t get why you’re all so affected when you’re the ones who didn’t return my feelings.” 

Your laughter is poison and your smiling face is tearing them apart. You’re heartless. You’re a devil disguised as an angel. You’re from the deepest depths of hell and have come to earth for the sole reason of tooth-achingly sweet and strawberry scented torment. If they can fall to their knees right now, they would, but their pride is tattered enough already— ripped to shreds by your unapologetic bluntness and honesty.

“Anyway, since I already have plans with the three of you within the week, Sungchan’s later this evening—” The man in question is pouting. He’s pouting very hard when your eyes skip over him, and zones into the person that’s been quiet this entire time. “Sohee! Wanna go bowling with me and my bio friends this Sunday?”

That was a bomb. A large and dangerous bomb. “Sure?” Sohee responds unknowingly. You give them one last sweet smile of torture before finally leaving.

“Great! Get my number from any of them. I have to go meet some people. Later! Thanks for the snack!”

With that, you leave them behind, but not without a trace of disaster. Once they’ve confirmed you’re gone and out, signaved by the tight shutting of the door, Sungchan, Wonbin, and Seunghan look at each other. Then at Sohee. Then back at the closed door once more.

It’s quiet again. They don’t need to talk to settle with three mutual conclusions.

One. Sohee isn’t getting shit after the emotional massacre they went through. He can go crawl and scavenger for your number elsewhere for all they care.

Two. There’s no doubt. They all know you and you all know them. This is something they can’t ignore anymore, so they have to figure out how to behave in case a run in like this happens again,

And three—

You like them. All three of them. At the same time. 

Their pride can’t stand the idea of sharing that affection. Absolutely not. Therefore three must drop down to one. Sungchan, Wonbin, and Seunghan are dead set on making sure that that one is going to be him.

THREE'S A CROWD. © hannie-dul-set, 2023.

#riize x reader #riize x you #riize imagines #jung sungchan x reader #sungchan x reader #park wonbin x reader #wonbin x reader #hong seunghan x reader #seunghan x reader #sungchan x you #wonbin x you #seunghan x you #riize scenarios #riize fluff #sungchan imagines #wonbin imagines #seunghan imagines

[yandere-writer-momo]

I had this idea in my head but I just couldn’t type it into a story. Chances are it be well near 15k word or more. So enjoy this super depressing head canon/ short story creation!!

Yandere Baki Shorts: One More Time

Biscuit Oliva x Afab Reader x Regretful Yandere Reverse Harem (Baki, Jack, Hanayama, and Katsumi)

TW: Angst and mentions of emotional neglect

(Your name) is Tokugawa’s granddaughter so everyone tolerated her excessive kindness since they did not want to upset Tokugawa. Though it was no secret he was indifferent to her and often ignored her in favor of the fighters of his tournament. She gave a lot of her nuturing love because she wanted nothing more in the world than to be loved in return. Sadly these men were emotionally constipated so they did not understand her affection and unknowingly took her for granted… she had an inkling that they did not like her but she still tried to cheer them up and encourage them to keep pushing through… despite no one doing the same for her (not even her grandfather)

Hanayama ignored her whenever she made an attempt to speak to him, Katsumi was always ‘too busy’ to spend time with her, Baki complained about Kozue all the time to her and would cut her off every time she spoke, and Jack was just mean. Jack was the most vocal of his distaste for her…

- Jack was the one who pushed her off the deep end. She visited him since he wasn’t at the Baki and Yujiro fight to check on him. And she offers him words of encouragement and support but he shut her down by saying, “Of course I’d get sympathy from someone as pathetic as you. Can’t you get the hint that no one wants you around? Why don’t you just do everyone a favor and disappear.”

She felt her entire world fall apart around her but she just asked Jack if she can just sit beside him for five more minutes and then she’ll never appear again. That she will disappear from his and everyone’s life if he just let her sit beside him for a few minutes. Jack relented so she rested her head on his large arm. He was disgusted by her touch but if it meant she’d leave him alone, then he would do it. Jack had no idea she simply wished for comfort since he himself had never experienced comfort (despite her constant attempts to comfort him since she felt he was the most traumatized).

After the promised five minutes passed, she rushed out of his apartment in tears. She ended up leaving her jacket behind since Jack had cried on it (she used it to cover his face since he didn’t want her to see him cry). He sighed in relief and gets back to watching the fight he believes should have been him

(Your name) was there for everyone in her free time. She was there for Hanayama when his mother died, she was the mediator between Baki and Kozue when they argued, she sat beside Katsumi while he was in the hospital, and she was at the hospital with Jack and even pitched in for some of his hospital bills since he sustained so many injuries… she was a very nurturing light but they didn’t appreciate her. No one cared about her.

None of them ever celebrated her birthday with her and they didn’t visit her in the hospital when she was sick. They didn’t know her favorite food or color. They didn’t know her favorite restaurant or her nervous ticks. They hardly responded to her texts if at all… (your name) was so lonely it wasn’t even funny.

So she decided to go to the family’s rumored well for a wish. An old wishing well from an old scroll she found hidden within a secret wall of the Tokugawa estate. It was written by one of the first relatives who wished for the Tokugawa family to become wealthy. Btu there was a price to pay… but it’s blurred out. Regardless of the unknown danger, (your name) travels up the mountain alone with the old map in hand… to make a wish.

Rather than wish for something selfish, she wishes for her friends- no the people she cared about, to have all their desires come true, but in exchange, she offered the spirit in the well her life. She’s never been touched, she’s still pure. (Your name) could be of value, right? But the spirit pitied her so they had her disappear from the Japan for five years... they wanted her tormentors to suffer the heart ache she had for the rest of their lives

The baki men all have their dreams come true… Shinshinkai dojo became world renowned for the best karate, Hanayama was successful as the leader to his family, Baki became the strongest creature in the world, and Jack defeated his father … but they were without her love and affection for five years… they missed her. They don’t feel like they deserved the success because she wasn’t there to cheer them all on. It all felt empty without the unwavering support of the bubbly (your name). They went insane in their search for her but she disappeared without a trace…

Baki often found himself glance at the stands after a fight in hopes he’d hear (your name)‘s voice cheer for him and sing his praises. That she would run over to him to check his wounds and treat him to dinner. He swore he would thank her this time and he’d give her some compliments himself. He had seen some pictures of her and had forgotten how pretty she was…

Katsumi would often unconsciously reach for a bento box on the bench he usually sat on at the dojo. He missed (your name)’s cheery smile as she handed him a home cooked meal. He swore he would make time for her if she asked to hang out with him. Katsumi would take her to every restaurant and fun date spot she wanted to try if she came back through the Shinshinkai’s doors. Katsumi would spend his time researching date spots in hopes of her sudden return. He wanted to make up for all the broken promises he’s made to her over the years…

Hanayama often found himself glance at the door in hopes she would come in and ask to walk through his rose garden with him. He made sure to add an extra chair in his office so she could sit beside him and talk to him as he worked. Hanayama swore he would listen to her her this time.

Jack is the most distraught. He was the last to ever see her and he still had her jacket… he felt so guilty. He hadn’t moved out his dinky apartment in hopes she would walk through his door again and ask to sit beside him. That she would want to share a meal with him and rest her head on his arm. Jack would do anything for her to come back… she was the only one who wasn’t afraid of him. Jack would give her the effort she deserved if she came back to him

Her memories of her so called ‘friends’ are wiped. She can no longer remember any of them or much about her life at the Tokugawa estate. The spirit sent her off to America where she comes to be under the care of a lonely Biscuit Oliva who had lost Maria. He’s instantly taken with her and he helps her since she seems so lost… he was lost too. And they found each other.

She spent five years by Biscuit’s side, where he spoiled her rotten. She was granted her true wish of being loved the way she deserved. Her true wish was granted and the Baki men paid the price.

Biscuit and her have a beautiful relationship. He talks with her and he listens to her. He remembered every small detail she shared about herself, even ones she did not verbally share. He’s so considerate of her and he helps her build self esteem. Biscuit constantly made time for her and always put his best efforts into making her happy. And Biscuit never stopped giving her compliments about her appearance or of a task she completed that she felt was minuscule. Biscuit claimed everything she did was perfect to him and he’d never change a thing about her. She often found herself crying here and there for no reason… like there was a part of her that finally started to heal

Five years later and Baki went to see Biscuit to challenge him for a fight out of boredom. Baki is shocked to hear such a familiar laugh and he runs into Biscuit’s room to find (your name) and Biscuit enjoying a meal together. She looked so beautiful in her designer dress… like a princess from a fairytale… but she had always been a princess now that Baki thought about it

Baki immediately collapsed in front of her and hugged her knees while he sobbed. He told her how much he and the others have missed her. How they were so sorry for the way they treated her, that she could come home… but she had no idea who he was… she didn’t know him. She didn’t remember him and it sent Baki spiraling. Baki is insistent that she’ll remember if she returned to Japan but she declined his offer. She told him that despite not knowing him, she was happy that his dreams came true

Baki refused to leave the Arizona prison until she returned back with him. She said she would so long as Biscuit can come with her. Baki is so thrilled… but the other men are much worse than Baki. So much worse.

When she arrived at the Tokugawa estate, Katsumi is the first to run to her and pull her into a hug. He’s bawling his eyes out as he hed her body as close to his body as he could. He babbled about his accomplishments and how he wished she was there to see them… that she belonged by his side. She just awkwardly pushed him away and apologized to him because she had no idea who he was. Katsumi went silent in disbelief and at first had thought it was a joke… but Baki frowned at him.

Baki explained to the other martial artists that (your name) completely lost her memories. They don’t believe him at first. Especially Katsumi who kept bringing up memories he had of her being at every tournament and by his side in the hospital. He convinced himself she was in love with him. (Delulu isn’t the solulu)

Hanyama just stared at her while she held Biscuit’s hand for comfort. He’s consumed with jealousy (on the inside) when he saw the way she looked at Biscuit… she used to look at him like that.

Hanayama quietly shared how the last five years of his life was without her and of his feelings for her… Hanayama admitted that he couldn’t date or sleep with anyone since she haunted his dreams since her disappearance. Hanayama kept his rose garden beautiful all year round since she loved it so much. Kaoru wanted to walk through the garden with her and pluck roses with her so she could display them in the compound… Hanayama even had a bench placed in the spot she’d always kneel in the grass in… he would be better for her if she came back to him… Hanayama would marry her on the spot

Hanayama offered her a lot of power, pleasure, and luxuries if she returned to his side but she politely turned him down. (He continued to bring it up whenever Katsumi or Baki weren’t speaking… it was so awkward)

Katsumi then spoke up about the last five years without her and about the true love he held for her. Katsumi admitted he searched for her face in the stands every time he had a tournament and he’d search for her when he was training people at the dojo. He never gave up his search for her. He felt awful for not making time for her and all the broken promises he made. Katsumi vowed to make as much time for her as she wanted if she just returned to his side… Katsumi swore that he would be an amazing husband to her. That he wanted to start a family with her and build her dream house… Katsumi poured his heart out to her with a pink blush on his cheeks. He sounded like he was sharing a dream that would never be in reach (delusional mf)

Baki then shared the last five years without (your name).. Baki and Kozue finally broke up for good a few years back due to their differences. Baki didn’t have the (your name) to help him make up with Kozue or to be his voice of reason. He didn’t have the (your name) to make sure he ate or that he rested enough. He didn’t have her compliment him or congratulate him anymore… he missed her motherly affection. He missed someone being proud of him. Baki rested his head on her lap while (your name) sits beside Biscuit. He kept trying to get her to rub her fingers through his hair but she swatted his hands away

Jack remained silent the entire time. He’s trying his best to remain calm but he looked angry… and he is. He’s so upset that she had been fine this entire time and she hadn’t came back to see him… he doesn’t believe she lost her memories because she’s so scared of him. She was never scared of him before… he wants to talk to her alone. His eyes don’t leave her the entire time while he clenched his jaw

Tokugawa brought up how she was always there for all the men in the room and how everyone had missed her so much but not a single person brought up any memories where one of them had been there for her… she asked if any of them knew her birthday and none of them knew. They were ‘so close’ to her but didn’t even know her birthday…

Biscuit pitched in and shared the date and the exact time of her birthday. The older man gave her a big smile before he began to list off her favorite color, food, and her hobbies. He shared all her quirks and her interests. It touched her heart… Biscuit knew everything about her which caused her to burst into tears .

The men all try to hand her handkerchiefs but she rejected them (she accepted Biscuit’s). She can’t explain to them why she started to cry, but she tells everyone that something within her was so happy… that Biscuit made her so happy.

(Your name) sadly had no desire to get to know any of the guys again because she’s happy with Biscuit. She tells them all that she’s happy they achieved their goals and that she’s proud of them but she no longer has a desire to be a part of their lives. Memories or not, from the way they talked about her, it seemed like she was the one who put in all the effort. Not a single one of them brought up a memory in which they did something for her… and that made her sad. Perhaps it was better she didn’t remember any of them

They cannot accept her rejection. Baki and Katsumi begin to beg and bargain. While Hanayama threatened her family (Tokugawa), but Biscuit held her hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. He began to try to take her away but Baki blocked the exit. He’s frantic and his eyes are crazy. He began to beg her not to disappear again. “I don’t want to live in a world where you aren’t there… I can’t do it again. Please stay.”

She tells him, “Perhaps that was the kind of world I lived in… a world where no one cared about me until I disappeared. Please live a good life and don’t forget to take care of yourself, Baki.”

Baki broke down and that’s when Jack rushed forward and grabbed her. He hurriedly brought her to the garden at the Tokugawa estate at an inhuman speed while the others all chased after him (especially Oliva)

Jack began to scream at her once they were far enough from everyone. He’s yelling on the top of his lungs while his face turned red and tears all from his cognac eyes. He finally fell apart in front of her after he tried to hold himself together for all these years.

“You do remember! Stop lying… you know who I am and that’s why you can’t look me in the face because you remember our last conversation all those years ago…”

“I swear I don’t remember-“

“You’ve never been scared of me before!” Jack screamed, the blonde ran his large hand through his short blonde locks. Jack tried to reel himself in but the emotions broke through the dam he held together for the last five years. “You’ve never looked at me like I’m a monster!”

(Your name) flinched at his sharp tone, her eyes wide in shock when Jack suddenly fell to his knees and held her hands. The blonde placed his jaw in her hands while he cried. The shouts of the others can be heard as they make their way towards the two of them. Yet it felt like it was only Jack and her left in the world in this very moment.

“I’m sorry! I-I didn’t mean to tell you to disappear!” Everyone froze in shock when they make it to the outer perimeter of the garden. Their mouths open like a fish out of water at what Jack admitted… he was the reason? He was the reason she disappeared? “I didn’t… I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

(Your name) squirmed when Jack pressed his lips to her hand in a way to apologize. She didn’t know why, but she needed to leave. She wanted to get away from him because he was scaring her. But his iron grip on her hands prevented her from escape.

“You can hit me… you can do whatever you want to me so long as you come back to me. I won’t be mean to you ever again.” Jack whispered into the palms of her hands as he guided her right hand to cup his scarred cheek. “You can sit beside me as much as you like. You can wear my jacket on your head when you need to cry and you can share meals with me. W-we can go for hikes together and you can sit on my back when I do pushups. I’ll do anything for you to be by my side and to not look at me like that.”

(Your name) can only stand there in shock as the giant man before her now appeared to be more like a lost child eager for love than a man… it broke her heart but he wasn’t her responsibility. If he was the reason why she lost her memories in the first place then he deserved her forgiveness the least.

And that’s when all the memories flooded in. The loneliness. The heart break. The broken promises. The constant rejection. She lived such a pathetic life before she was granted a second chance… these men didn’t deserve her. They never did.

“Jack?” Jack perked up at his name, his breath hitched as he clung to the sound of his name leaving her lips for the first time in years. He missed when she spoke his name. To him, she was meant to speak his name… she was his.

“Yes?”

“Do me a favor and forget about me.” Jack felt himself shatter at her words, the blonde now her her hands tightly to his face. His breathing now erratic.

“What?” Jack was in disbelief. He didn’t hear that right… this wasn’t his (your name). There was no way his sweet (your name) would tell him to forget her. She would never reject him. “I didn’t catch that.”

“Forget about me. Treat me as if I never existed.” (Your name) repeated as she tried to move her hands off his face. “You don’t need to have someone as pathetic as me beside you.”

No… no. No. No. No. No. No. She was supposed to forgive him. She was supposed to kiss his scarred cheeks while she happily accepted his apology with tears of joy in her eyes. (Your name) should know he never apologized and that he truly sought forgiveness.

(You name) snapped her hands out of his hold and turned on her heel to leave. She ignored the men who had once constantly let her down now try to gain her affection. She didn’t need these people. She didn’t need empty promises and sweet words… (your name) just needed her lover, Biscuit Oliva.

“I want to go home.” (Your name) told Biscuit with a smile. She took his large hand in her small one and gave it a squeeze.

“Of course, dear. We can do anything you want.” (Your name) rested her head on Biscuit’s arm as he lead her out of the estate. She ignored the screams of her name and the loud begging of Katsumi and Baki.

They never turned their heads for her when she begged for love and when she’d ask to spend time with them… why should she turn hers?

(Your name) finally had the love she always wanted while they had fulfilled their goals… how could they be so selfish to want more?

“(Your name)! Please stay in Japan! We can get married and I’ll take you on dates every weekend!” Baki shouted while Katsumi tried to one up him.

“I’ll take you out everyday and we can get married as soon as tomorrow!”

“I’ll give you the world if you turn around and come to me right this moment.” Hanayama piped up from behind her. “If you don’t turn around, then the Tokugawa family will be no more.”

Tokugawa began to shout out to the granddaughter he neglected for years in favor of these men who didn’t value him. “Please don’t let him do that. You love your grandpa, don’t you? You can be the heir to the Tokugawa family!”

Poor Jack remained on his knees in the garden. His brown eyes dull as he watched her leave with Biscuit without so much as a glance behind her.

For the first time in five years, Jack and the others have suffered a true defeat. All they wanted was one more time.

Just one more time and they’d make it all right… for they could not accept that they already wasted so many chances to make things right due to their own selfishness. They had lost the one love of their lives forever.

#baki x reader #baki the grappler x reader #yandere baki #yandere #female reader #yandere fic #yandere imagine #angst #biscuit oliva #oliva biscuit #baki jack hanma #yandere jack hanma #baki headcanons #baki katsumi orochi #yandere katsumi orochi #katsumi orochi x reader #yandere hanayama kaoru x reader #hanayama kaoru x reader #kaoru hanayama x reader #jack hanma x reader #yandere baki the grappler #yandere baki hanma #yandere baki x reader #baki yandere #tw.yandere #Yandere reverse harem #katsumi orochi #kaoru hanayama #jack hanma #baki kaoru hanayama

[genshindsau]

Pleasure for Two, Punishment for One - Part Two

Summary: Genshin!au, Empress!au. Its finally Scaramouche's turn to be dealt with after having to watch you and Aether. Except the fact that you are not done with his punishment and instead drag it out until he is completely pliant and submissive for you.

CW: Dom!reader, sub!character, reverse harem, bondage, tentacle use, OOC, mentions of voyeurism, throatfucking, gagging, unsafe sex, cum eating, urethral insertion, edging, use of "no" but there is a safeword system so reader ignored him when he says no, one line mention of rimming, anal, aftercare.

Part One

On top of the wrinkled bed sheets laid a naked and exhausted Aether. He was covered in sweat, cum, and drool but he couldn't bring himself to care. All he could feel was a satisfying ache run throughout his body. He was still trembling and just coherent enough that he could barely make out the feeling of your hand on his back as you rubbed it. One of your fingers grazed his backside and he couldn't suppress the flinch. His hole was bright red and sore to the touch, indicating just how well used he was. Despite wanting to curl up to you, he couldn't even make himself move.

He vaguely made out the breathless chuckle that left your lips.

"Are you okay to stay there for a while?" It took a second to process you were talking to him. Fighting the sleepiness that was starting to settle over him, he wrestled with keeping his eyes open.

"I still have someone else to take care of," He managed to spot you, who was also nude, but then he was able to remember one more person that was in the room.

Huh, I forgot he was here, Aether distantly thought. In the same position as earlier sat Scaramouche. Instead of the intimating concubine Aether was used to, sat someone who looked completely debauched. His body was shaking, constant watery sobs and pleads left his lips, tears fell freely from his eyes and the most noticeable were the tentacles that continued to explore and play with his body.

You brushed hair behind Aether's ears while waiting for his answer. It seemed to take a few seconds to register that you were asking him something. However, in the end he was able to nod. Knowing he was most likely about to fall asleep you decided that you would clean him later. Once you're done with Scaramouche it would be best to just let them soak in the baths for a while.

Speaking of Scaramouche, you moved to get off the bed and then stood in front of him. In the back of his mind he was able to understand that you were in front of him, but he struggled with lifting his head.

"I - please - I can't, i cant, i cant, i cant," he repeated as his head fell forward, his forehead against your thighs. He had no strength left in his body and every nerve felt like it was on fire. With no idea how long he was forced to deal with this pleasurable bordering on painful torment while watching you and Aether, it felt like it would never end. He stopped counting after Aether came the fifth time and you the second.

"Is it hard? Does it hurt?" Your words may have been sympathetic, but your tone was anything but. There was mockery underneath your words and your hand roughly pulled his head back and off your thigh. He felt a rush of tears well up in his eyes at the rough treatment.

"I'm sor-" he voices fell off into a sob when the tentacle that was in his ass gave a sharp thrust causing his body to jerk as best as it could while still wrapped in ropes.

"Hmm? I couldn't hear you." You squatted in front of him, your hand still in his hair. He was granted another thrust, followed by another and he was hoping that maybe this time you would let him cum. However, the tentacle also resumed its place back into his urethra. Just a few thrusts would have made him cum, he knew that, and you definitely knew that based on the way you manipulate the tentacle with your magic. You were dead set on not letting him cum.

"I'm - ahh - sorry. pleaseplease." Scaramouche was beginning to let out garbled nonsense. His prostate was being hit with each thrust, but he couldn't cum. He couldn't cum. He couldn't cum. That thought brought fresh tears to his eyes.

He could feel the burning in his stomach as he was forced to linger on the edge. His cock felt like it was about to combust, all slick and red. The tentacle slithered down his urethra, refusing to let him properly cum and scaramouche just broke, gasping sobs leaving his lips as drool slipped out of his mouth and onto the floor.

His hair was let go by you and he slumped down a little bit due to the loss of tension.

"Scaramouche," he could vaguely recognize your voice through his muddled mind. "Look at me."

You were speaking, he could hear you, but he couldn't comprehend what you were saying. It wasn't until a hand gripped his chin and angled his face towards you that he was able to focus on something. The rest of the world blurred out as he focused on your face and your face alone. When you saw the glossy look in his eyes, indicating how lost in his mind he was become, you softened your tone.

"I suppose it would be too much to expect you to listen. At least not when you're as mindless as you are right now." You offered false sympathy as you lightly shook his head with your fingers that were gripping his chin.

"Y'know many people complain about the words you spew out. About how you're too rude, too condescending, too arrogant." One of your fingers traced the glossiness of his lips as you spoke before dipping into his mouth and running over his tongue, coating your fingers with his saliva. "Afterall, this is what got you in this position in the first place."

"I guess I'm going to have to make it to where you won't be able to speak for a while."

The next thing Scaramouche was able to distantly recognize was the feeling of something soft on his tongue. His tongue moved at the pressure and felt around the new intrusion in his mouth. He was rewarded with a small moan that left your lips. For the first time you placed a gentle and delicate hand on his head which caused Scaramouche to lean forward, pressing against it and seeking out for that comfort.

"ah - ack," Scaramouche was interrupted with a garbled cough as he pressed forward trying to chase the comfort of your hand on his head, unintentionally pushing your cock deeper into the tight cavern of his throat. Even with the coughing and the obvious fluttering of his throat, you refused to pull out, opting to hold him still and force him to get used to the feeling of your length down his throat.

You gave him a few seconds to try and calm down until the majority of the coughing subsided. Scaramouche squirmed, his hands aching to come and rest against you but all that did was ignite a slight burning in the skin around his wrist due to him straining against the rope.

You pulled back a fraction but still kept the head of your cock in his mouth. Scaramouche eagerly sucked in as much air as possible, his chest heaving with his deep breaths.

Deeming he had enough time to situate himself you tightened the grip in his hair, "Be good for me and maybe I'll let you come afterwards."

That was all the warning he got before you pushed his head forward and thrusted your hips as well. With the first thrust, you only fed him half of your cock before pulling back a little and thrusting once more, this time forcing it all the way down his throat. He squirmed and tried to pull back instinctively due to the pressure in his throat, but you held firm. You kept him against your pelvis, his nose grazing your lower stomach before loosening your grip in his hair, letting him pull back just enough to where he could breath.

You slowly thrusted into his mouth one more time until his lips were at your base before pulling out. You did this a few times before you finally started to speed up. Scaramouche was unable to focus on using his tongue or suctioning his lips, but you didn't seem to mind, happily fucking up into his mouth. Instead of worrying about that he just adverted his eyes up to your face and tried to focus on that - wanting to see that you were feeling pleasure from your harsh treatment. However, this was deemed nearly impossible due to the tears that were welling up and trickling down his cheeks.

Glug, glug, glug, gurgling sounds filled the room along with soft moans that left your lips. Looking down you had to still your hips to stop from coming. Scaramouches eyes were unfocused and glossy and his lower face was covered in cum, drool, snot, and saliva. You could tell by the way he stopped struggling against your hold that he had finally fallen into that submissive headspace.

The loss of fullness in his throat led to scaramouche blinking away his tears and trying to look at you, afraid that he had done something wrong. Hurriedly, he had stuck his tongue out and tried to lick around the part of your cock that remained in his mouth. To appease you he even tried to swallow more of your cock, until it once again touched the back of throat. Despite the small convulses in his body he did not try to move away.

"Fuck... you're killing me here." You had let go of the tight grip you had in his hair and instead rested your hand on top of his head. You took a few deep breaths in order to push down your arousal.

Once you calmed yourself down, you pulled your hips back a small bit before shallowing thrusting back in. You were gentler this time around, not making it to where he violently choked against you. Instead, you set a steady rhythm. With each thrust you would still yourself at the back of this throat for a few seconds to feel the convulsions of his throat. You would finally pull back once he started to turn a little red in the face. You kept this going until you felt the familiar twinge of arousal in your lower stomach.

"Shit," Your hips picked up their pace. "Be good for me and swallow."

Scaramouche flinched at the first taste that spurted onto his tongue before he eagerly swallowed it down. He struggled to swallow it all and instead some flowed out of the side of his mouth. You kept him held against your stomach before pulling back and taking yourself out of his mouth.

Scaramouche's throat was burning from the rough treatment, and he had hunched forward coughing.

It took a moment before he realized he was being moved. One moment he was situated on his knees and the next thing he knew he was face down on the ground. His muscles burned at the new position; his weight was now resting directly on his knees, and he tried to move them but was unable to do more than scooch them. He rested his cheek against the floor and shivered at the coolness which was in direct contrast to the heat that was run rampage in his body.

"haah.. plea-ase," His voice cracked when he felt your fingers replace the tentacle that was previously shoved up his ass. There wasn't as much of a stretch but the fact that you were now touching him instead of a tentacle caused his body to shake.

When you entered three fingers into him, he reflexively grinded back against them, desperately wanting to feel them hit that one spot inside him that always set his body aflame. You didn't reprimand him for that and instead let him do some of the work, opting to just curl your fingers.

"nghhahh, there, right there." he cried out, but his voice was so hoarse and choppy that you could barely make out what he was saying. Even as he kept thrusting back and getting his prostate hit, you weren't allowing him to cum. That damned tentacle that was in his urethra and the rope that was tied around his balls was constricting him. "pleasepleaseplease - out. Need it out," he wailed, and his body was trembling so violently that you were worried he would pull a muscle.

You pulled your fingers out of him and wrapped them around his thighs and gently massaged them. He whined at the loss of touch, but his body unconsciously relaxed under your fingers that were pushing into the muscle on his thighs. You kept doing that until he became pliant once more and was not at a risk of harming himself.

"Relax," you cooed, moving to grip both of his cheeks with your hands and spread them. A small chuckle passed your lips when you saw his hole gaping and fluttering.

"cant." He gasped out. "hurts... need t' cum. please plea - ahh!" A throaty scream escaped his lips when he felt your tongue lick around his rim. You moved to kiss his cheek and traveled kisses and licks up his spine until you reached his neck. Your fingers traced the intricate ropes before tugging them and forcing his upper body off the ground. You continued to pull until he was once more on sat up on his knees but now, he had his back pressed against your chest.

Your cock situated itself right in between his ass cheeks and you rutted against him. "Want to cum?" It was a teasing question.

Scaramouche weakly nodded. "please. 'm sorry, I wont - I won't" his throat was burning through his pleads and in some distant part of his mind he knew he should not be talking anymore but he couldn't bring himself to worry about it. "won't talk back, wont be rude. prom-promise."

You both knew this was lie and that in a few days' time he will be the same condescending and rude concubine he always is but right now at this moment, he completely believed what he is saying.

"Promise," you decided to play along.

"Promise," he whined out.

"Alright. You're done with your punishment. I suppose you should get your reward."

He felt the slickness of the tentacles leave his entire body. All that is left from them was a trail of wetness that left goosebumps rising in their wake. The second you pulled it out of his urethra a scream left his lips. His hips tried to buck away from the feeling but he couldn't. All those previous denied orgasms that were pushed back due to the tentacle stopping them came rushing over him tenfold. His cock spurted out load after load and it felt like a never-ending pleasure to him that was becoming painful. His body shook uncontrollably against your hold. He wasn't sure how it felt like he was still cumming, his hole gaping and spasming.

It took a while for his body to calm down and even then, he was still having shaking. One of your hands had wrapped around his waist and rested on his stomach and was rubbing small circles onto it. In his twitching, the hands behind his back had grazed your cock a few times and despite your own arousal pressing against him you were well aware that he could be too sensitive to deal with anything else.

Scaramouche had felt the twitching of your own cock against his back and fingers. Despite the oversensitivity in his body, he still craved for the closeness of you inside him. He could handle one more, he wanted to feel you inside of him this time instead of the sliminess of the tentacle.

"s'okay," he managed to whisper out. At the same time one of his hands clumsily grasped your cock. His thumb ran over the tip (or at least tried to) before struggling to position it at his entrance.

You raised an eyebrow, "You sure?"

He eagerly nodded, "please."

You positioned yourself at his entrance and was able to easily sink into him. The breath was knocked out of Scaramouche and a loud keen left his lips and his back arched. Once you were completely sheathed inside him you let out a shuddering breath as he twitched sporadically around you. You knew this would be a short round, Scaramouche would probably be able to cum one more time before his body would no longer be able to handle anything else.

You pulled out only a small amount before shallowly thrusting into him, trying not to hit his prostate just yet. With each thrust, small uh - uh - uh's passed through his lips. Even with these shallows thrust he felt his stomach tighten. His orgasm was building and embarrassingly quickly too. His crying only got louder because he knew he couldn't hang on anymore.

"c-cumming," he managed to wheeze out. His whole body became tense and he squeezed down on your own cock. You let out a groan of your own, a small orgasm wracking through your body. It wasn't overly strong but it did not bother you. Scaramouche's on the other hand was strong, too strong. His mouth fell open in a silent scream and his body had convulsed before he fell completely slack, mind falling in and out of consciousness.

He felt the tension of the rope released from his body. He was distantly aware that he was falling forward but he couldn't make his body move. He didn't hit the ground and instead fell right into your arms. He first recognized your scent and unconsciously nuzzled into your chest wanting to be surrounded by the smell. He felt a new pressure around his body but this time instead of the coarseness of rope he felt the softness of skin as you wrapped your arms around him.

You sat down on the ground and situated yourself before moving him into a more comfortable position on your lap. One hand came up to run through his tangled-up hair whilst the other took to wiping away all the dried up cum and drool. You couldn't do a perfect job with just your hand, but you managed to clear up some so that it was not sticking onto his face.

Scaramouche was letting out small puffs of air that had undertones of wheezes in them, showcasing how well used his throat was.

You should get one of the servants to make him a tea, you thought while your hand left his jaw and mindlessly went to rub his throat.

Scaramouche opened his lips but strained to say something, anything but he couldn't due to the throbbing in his throat from his crying and your treatment of it. He unconsciously squirmed away from the hand at his throat.

You were befuddled before realizing that he thought you were going to start another round since you usually place your hand on his throat during sexual encounters. Quickly moving your hand to his shoulder, your cooed at him and brought him closer to you.

"shh, it's alright you're all done." He lost the last bit of tension in his body and slumped against you. "You did so good for me." If he had the energy, he would have preened at your words but all he could managed was a shaky smile.

Neither of you moved from your position on the floor for a while. It wasn't until you felt his breath even out and his body become pliant that you decided to stand up. You kept him in your arms as you carried him to the joining bathroom. He let out small sounds at the jostling but did not open his eyes. You carefully settled him on one of the cushions set aside the tub and used magic to start the tub.

Once it was filled up and at an appropriate temperature you carefully maneuver him into the tub making sure not to aggravate any of the rope burns. You did not join him and instead, once he was settled, let go of him and went to stand up. At the loss of your touch Scaramouche couldn't help the panic that welled up inside him. His eyes snapped open and one of his hands weakly clutched onto your arm.

"Do - " He winced as the pain in his throat finally settled in. He wanted to tell you not to leave him, but he couldn't. You could see the despair in his eyes and reached out to pet his head before moving to caress his cheek.

"I have to get Aether too, lovely." Even with your reassurance he didn't want you to let go of him. He shook his head and clutch onto you tighter. He wasn't jealous at this moment but instead all he could focus on was the fact that in order for you to get Aether, you would have to leave him and that caused an unimaginable amount of panic to form inside him. He did not want to be alone when he was feeling as vulnerable as he was right now.

You let out a sigh and squatted down behind the tub and ran your hand through his hair.

"You trust me, right?" you kept your tone light as you played with strands of his hair. He had his knees curled up and was resting his head against them.

He nodded without hesitation, and you couldn't help the pride that resonated in your chest.

"Then I want you to close your eyes and stay in this position for 30 seconds alright." As you were speaking, you had let your magic cast over him and mimic an embrace. You also mimicked the feeling of your hand playing with his hair. Once you felt confident in your spell, you had slowly and quietly gone to grab Aether who was still laying on the bed. His eyes blearily blinked open when you lifted him in your arms.

"Finally done with him?" He whispered but there was no malice in his tone. He was well aware that Scaramouche had gone through a tough punishment and that he would be dealing with some discomfort for a while.

You hummed in acknowledgment as you reentered the bathroom. Scaramouche was in the same position as you left him, and you breathed a sigh of relief.

The tub was more than large enough to fit the three of you, so you had place Aether in and made sure the both of them were comfortable before joining them. You made sure to sit in between them because even in their headspaces (or rather Scaramouche's, Aether seemed more well recovered) they could spiral.

Within a few minutes of joining them, you could feel weight against one of your shoulders (Aether fell asleep first) and then on the other side of your body, Scaramouche nudged under your arm so that he could lay against your chest.

#genshin au #dom reader #sub character #sub genshin #sub genshin impact #consort au #genshin impact smut #genshin smut #empress au #c:aether #c:scaramouche #sub!aether #sub scaramouche #sub aether #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact

[bebe-writes-stuff]

Tokyo Revengers x Reader (I might just turn this idea into a reverse harem lolol)

Your legs moved on their own just as you spotted the glint of the switchblade Kazutora aimed at Baji's unsuspecting back. Without a second thought, you jumped between them, feeling the dagger penetrate your stomach. Time seemed to stop. Kazutora took a step back, petrified. "Y-Y/n," his voice quivered, while you sensed the metallic taste slowly dripping from your lips.

A smile overtook your blood-stained lips. "Tora... come back to Toman, please. Your place is with us." Those were your last words before Takemichi tumbled with Kazutora after tackling him with full force.

Baji's voice echoed, "Y/N!" as you sensed his firm grip embracing you.

As if an entire war had come to an end, both Toman and Valhalla stood still. Your chest heaved, and each breath was a struggle. Who knew if your next breath would come back out.

Baji's shout made Mikey glance down from his position atop the car wreck. His heart stopped at the sight of the knife sticking out of your abdomen, the blood staining your shirt, even staining Baji's hands as he tried to wrap your wound. But it was no use. The sight of your precious blood made him want to rage. He wanted to kill Kazutora.

Stepping down, making his way methodically, each step filled with malice and bloodlust, Mikey had fallen into his darkness. No one could bring him back to his rational mind now.

"Mikey..." You heard Baji whisper as he watched Mikey walk past them, his eyes never once leaving Kazutora's position on the floor where Takemichi had run into him. Turning to see where Mikey was heading, you were horrified when you saw him executing a forceful and vigorous kick, sending Kazutora flying back.

"No, Mikey... stop," you whispered to yourself as you struggled to get out of Baji's hold.

"Wait, don't move! You're hurt badly!" Despite his stern voice, Baji was shaking.

"Get off me! I have to stop him!" You finally said before pushing Baji, placing both hands on the handle of the switchblade before pulling it out.

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?!" You've never heard Baji yell like this, ever.

You took off; you felt your muscles tighten, more blood gushing out with every step, ignoring the sharp stinging pain extending to your entire body.

"MIKEY!" You shouted, but there was no response. You were the only brave one to approach Mikey in this state — a state of blind rage. Would Mikey even recognize you? Suddenly,

PUNCH.

Your intention was to snap him out of his dark impulses as your fist met his face full force, knocking him a few steps back.

"I told you to stop..." It was the same tone you used with enemy gangs. Cold and dark.

Everyone collectively had the same thought — you were done for. But no one knew the secret you had hidden away from the rest of the world. You and Mikey shared the same curse since you were kids. Being the closest to Mikey, you both had the same haunting impulses. Turning to face you, his eyes were lost in darkness, while yours were lost in light.

"We're not gonna end like this. We're not gonna kill each other." The same harsh tone. Mikey stared at you, then at Kazutora. You rocked before crashing to the floor; you could no longer hold yourself up straight. You felt cold and distant.

"Y/n!" No longer interested in Kazutora, Mikey rushed to your side, helping you sit up. Your eyes seemed to lose their light.

"Y/n..." Tears threatened to pour out of his eyes; he couldn't handle losing anyone anymore, especially not you, not now, not ever.

Everyone heard the police sirens dangerously closing in; frantically, people started running.

"Go..." You muttered. He looked at you shocked.

"Are you crazy? There's no way I'm leaving you here!" He shouted as you felt him start to carry you before you shoved him.

"GO, DAMMIT! WE DON'T HAVE TIME! I'LL BE FINE."

You glanced at Draken and nodded, a shared agreement between the two of you, you could always depend on him for these moments. Draken didn't waste any time, picking up Mikey and running with the rest of the Tokyo Manji Gang.

"KENNY, STOP! NO! Y/N!" Mikey screamed, reaching out for you.

"The ambulance will take her to the hospital; we have to go!" Draken said, tightening his grip immensely on Mikey as he ran as fast as his legs could possibly take him. From the outside, Draken might have seemed heartless in this moment, leaving you for dead. But no one saw the tears streaming down his face non-stop.

The car wreck fell silent; you were lying on the floor. A few steps away from you was Kazutora, crawling to his unconscious body from Mikey's kick. With whatever strength you had left, you tried waking him up.

"Kazutora, wake up. You have to go; the police are coming. C'mon, wake up."

No use. Mikey knocked his lights out. If the police came, Kazutora would get arrested again. No, you couldn't let that happen. Sometimes you even shocked yourself with your inhuman strength, despite the uncontrollable amount of blood you lost. You got up and managed to pick up Kazutora. You scanned the car wreck; where could you hide him until he woke up and the police were gone? You could only think of one place—the cars themselves. You struggled to open the busted-up car door, but when you did, you gently put him down in the backseat. You pulled out your phone and typed away, a message for Kazutora when he wakes up,

Change Kazutora, we are all here by your side, you're not alone

-Toman

You left your phone beside him,

I doubt I have any use for that now. I'm sorry Mikey, but I think I lied.

You returned to your original spot, falling with a hard thud on the ground. Everything felt like it was slowing down for you, each one of your breaths, your heart beat, the world. Everything slowly faded as your eyes slowly shut, your last sight the cops running towards your freezing body.

The hospital echoed with frantic urgency of medical professionals, with doctors and nurses moving quickly. Doctors were around the stretcher, your body laid on as doctors exchanged hasty words and gestures in an attempt to help you. You stirred, your eyelids fluttering as consciousness reluctantly began to claw its way back. The harsh lighting above blurs your vision. Confusion clouded your gaze, and the sensation of being on a moving surface only added to your disorientation, like you were on a moving ride. You couldn't fathom the severity of your injuries. Unaware of the thin line between life and death that you teetered upon, as doctors did their best in an attempt to save your fragile existence.

As you tried to make sense of the chaos around you, a wave of exhaustion swept over, pulling you back into unconsciousness. Your eyelids grow heavy, and the sounds of the hospital faded into a distant murmur. The struggle for awareness was lost, and once again, you succumbed to the darkness, leaving the frantic efforts of the medical team echoing in the background.

As you regained consciousness, for the second time, the sterile hospital environment had given way to a disconcerting darkness. Instead of the beeping machines and frantic medical staff, you found yourself being carried through a dimly lit alley. Confusion gripped you as you tried to make sense of your surroundings, but the lingering effects of your injuries overwhelmed you, and once again, you slipped into unconsciousness.

When you awoke for the third time, you found yourself on a bed, disoriented and groggy. A man sat in front of you, his features obscured by shadows. Before either of you could utter a word, he pulled out a newspaper article, read in big bold letters,

High-school girl succumbs to fatal injuries in the aftermath of a gang altercation...and later dies in the hospital she was transferred to.

Shocked and bewildered, you struggled to comprehend the situation.

"W-what?" you managed to stammer, your voice weak.

The man sighed, revealing a mix of anguish and resentment in his eyes. "I had to find someone who looked like you, stage her death, and put her in your place. You're essentially nothing but a ghost now," he explained, his words sending a shiver down your spine, shock and bewilderment seized you, a chilling realization sinking in.

-- You guys want this to be a series? let me know --

#tokyo revengers smut #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers #tokyo rev x reader #tokyo revengers hcs #baji smut #baji x reader #keisuke baji #keisuke baji x reader #tokyo revengers baji #tokrev #tr x reader #tokyo rev #tr smut #tokyo revengers mikey #tokyo revengers draken #tokyo manji gang #tokyo rev smut #tokyo rev x you #tokyo rev x y/n #mikey tokyo revengers #ken ryuguji #hanagaki takemichi #tokyo revengers x reader smut #tokyo revengers x y/n #tokyo revengers x you #mikey x reader #x you #x y/n #x y/n fluff

[hexonthepeach]

dive

pairing: f4!nct dojaejung x fem!reader (past johnny x reader mentions)

genre: hana yori dango/boys over flowers/meteor garden/f4 thailand reverse harem au (mild allusions and characterization only)

warnings: brief mentions of past bullying, dom!doyoung, hopelessromantic!jaehyun, mommykink!jungwoo, reader is a bit of a switch, smut (mmmf, double penetration, oral f & m receiving/giving, unprotected sex, anal, semi-public sex), degradation/humiliation kink (reader), pet names: baby, mommy (reader), puppy (jw)

wordcount: 10k

author's note: i wrote this as a distraction from other projects after listening to perfume on repeat and lamenting the end of promo. intended as a oneshot but i have some ideas for continuation. please let me know if you enjoy it (and more importantly, what you enjoy)

The Bangkok night is warm and thick and redolent with flowers. The expensive vacation home one of your three companions had arranged for your short stay is quietly luxurious, separated from the city bustle but still hazed with light past the high walls and thick foliage surrounding the pool. 

You'd never made a habit of asking who paid for what with your travel companions, but you guess by the mix of old world and new that it was Jaehyun's idea to stay here–perhaps even a Jeong family permanent accommodation. His family's import business had done well in the region, judging by the luxury sports cars parked in the driveway.

Everything about this trip is surreal–worse for the fact that a fourth presence lingers like a ghost in your periphery. 

He should have been here. Indeed, you've taken his place, filling the natural void like a small drop in an ocean-sized hole. 

Everything about this distraction brought you back to him: the rose petals strewn across your pristine bed, the snarling garuda statue lurking across the aquamarine oasis. 

Johnny is 8600 miles away and still very near. 

Jaehyun joins you at the pool's edge, slipping some well-concocted drink near your manicured fingers–most likely Jungwoo's contribution by the tasteful sprig of flowering basil. You'd refused multiple drinks at the club, still flagged from a day of travel and self-conscious of the eyes on your table and you’d finally agreed to one now that you were back safe in your own private enclosure.

He shucks off his sandals to dip his feet in beside yours, nudging you beneath the water to remind you that even with the grief that's hollowed you out inside, you're not alone.

Jaehyun doesn't speak–well accustomed to your need for silence when you've inevitably descended into that space again. 

Unfortunately, Doyoung isn't as accommodating. 

"What did we say about moping, Y/N?" A tall shadow stands beside you, swaying slightly. 

"I'm not moping," you say, sipping from your glass of Mekhong soothed with sugar and soda. "Just thinking."

"Wasn't the point of this vacation to get you to stop doing that?" Doyoung is touching his toe to the warm water when there's a sudden rush from behind you, a startled cry escaping the man before he hits the surface fully clothed. 

"Was he bothering you?" Jungwoo asks, looking completely unfazed about shoving the other man in.

"You bastard," Doyoung says, spluttering up and tossing his hair back as he holds his phone out of the water.

"It's waterproof."

"That's not–"

"I'll buy you a new one." 

"Now you're going to have him trying to return the favor," you say, giving him a sly smile.

"Oh I think I'll be alright," he says with a wink, backing up a few paces before cannon-balling in. If you'd been doused by Doyoung's ungraceful landing you're soaked thoroughly by the splash Jungwoo makes, finding yourself shielded by Jaehyun's torso wrapped around you. 

You hadn’t even thought to protect anything but your drink, your heart stuttering as you find yourself inches from his flushed face and rosy lips.

"You okay?" he asks, wiping water from your face with his silk sleeve. 

"Yeah," you say quietly. "Can't see the tears now, right?"

He blinks at you, believing you by the clouded expression in his dark eyes.

"I'm just kidding. Not crying, see." You smile at him as best as you can muster, hoping your carefully-applied makeup isn't running off your face. 

"Don't you want to join us?" Jungwoo has escaped Doyoung by pressing himself to your knees, shoulders well out of the water at standing level. You shake your head, suddenly shy.

"You should have let those girls come back with us," you say. "All that work wingmanning for nothing."

"Blame Doyoung for boring them talking about tariffs," Jungwoo says, ducking as the other shoves water in his direction. "Besides, we didn't want you to be alone."

"You know I don't mind, puppy." You tousle his wet hair, sipping deeply again. Through the fogged rim of your glass you catch his cheerful expression falter. It lasts only as long as he realizes Doyoung is floating on his back, swamping him with a tackle.

"I asked them to keep it just us for tonight." Jaehyun says, breaking his quiet. 

"Saving the party for Phuket!" Jungwoo shouts in the background, mispronouncing the first syllable deliberately to sound like fuck it.

"Have someone you're missing tonight, too?" Your tease lands with a thud, watching your best friend's mouth crease at the corner as he chews his lip. 

"I'm sorry, that was rude–"

"No," he says. "I know how you feel."

"How far away is Paris?" you ask, not expecting an answer.

"5 hours," Jaehyun says, grinning slightly. It's a callback to so many months of watching him stare out towards the airport from the school rooftop with you, letting you listen while he mused on what she might be doing at that hour, how long it would take to get there. 

You'd encouraged him even as your heart broke–feeling the dwindling embers of a schoolgirl crush on him turn to ash. You would never be as good as his childhood love, even if you had taken up her place as his companion seated beside him on the piano bench when he practiced, or studying beside him as he drifted off into one of his many naps.

It was better this way–more comfortable just being able to be with him without the worry that you could live up to her, your heroine in highschool. But there would always be something there.

Doyoung clambers out to sit beside you, far enough away not to dampen the fuschia Versace metal mesh minidress he'd gifted you earlier. It was the perfect costume to play the part of nouveau riche jetsetter for a girl who lived one step up from a basement apartment. 

No one would mistake you for class, or even an influencer, but in their company no one was looking at you anyway. Most people thought you were Doyoung’s assistant or Jungwoo’s sister. The nasty looks, sometimes worse, always followed when they introduced you as their friend.  

"What can we do to make this a magical night?" Doyoung asks. You find yourself unable to answer, eyes caught on the smooth definition of his chest through the barely buttoned translucent shirt he'd worn out. You note he's lost the matching loose tie, probably still wrapped around a girl's neck on the dance floor.

"It's already so nice," you say, looking up at the blink of stars through the light pollution. "Thank you for including me." 

"You think we'd leave you behind?" 

The way he says you carries all sorts of strange subtext, considering your history. It had been a long journey from being mercilessly bullied and shoved into the dirt you came from, as Johnny had called it, to here. The lap of luxury, attended to by three specimens of wealth and privilege so out of your league you may as well be batting a thousand.

"Well it’s not like I got you in the divorce," you say, knot twisting in your chest. "I guess even now it’s hard to tell if you’re just being nice to me because you feel bad for me."

"First of all, he left all of us," Doyoung corrects. His voice is a little raspy, as if he's controlling his emotions. The admission leaves you questioning. You knew how close they were but they'd never shown any sign of being affected by Johnny's sudden departure.

Maybe you'd just been too busy wallowing to notice. 

“Second, you’re special. Too special to let just anyone play with. If you hadn’t noticed, we enjoy your company.”

"And when have we ever done something nice?" Jungwoo rests his arms on your knees, almost pulling you into the water. Jaehyun pushes him back with his foot, earning a tug on his leg that does little to move his immovable weight. 

"You're a package deal, though. Like a blend," you raise your mostly empty glass to drive your horrible attempt at a metaphor to death. “Even with one ingredient missing you can’t beat the original.”

“Well I won’t deny you're a strange substitute,” Doyoung says, gracefully using your words to make his point. It reminds you of how he’d spent hours drilling you with details of tea ceremony when your ridiculous coworker had asked for a demonstration of his family’s heritage business. 

“But taste requires innovation, and it’s often the unexpected addition that changes the entire flavor profile. You’re new but you’re refreshing, and unique. Not something to be discarded because anyone demands it.”

“That’s a very poetic way of saying you still like me even if I’m an uncultured pain in the ass.”

"Poor little weed," Jungwoo says, hands splaying over your bare thighs before Jaehyun can foist him off again. “Are you insulting Doyoung’s taste? You're the first girl any of us have agreed on."

"I doubt that considering what I saw last Friday. Did all of you sleep in Doyoung's room or did you take turns–"

You catch Jungwoo's scheming look with Jaehyun right before the cocktail glass is plucked from your hand and you're picked up on both sides, Jaehyun lifting you by the waist and Jungwoo taking over once you're free of the edge.

"Let me go," you shriek, folding over his shoulder. 

"Are you sure?" Jungwoo bends his knees until your hem is submerged, not phased as you beat on his back with soft hits.

"At least toss me in so you can get a head start," you threaten. He indulges you, lifting you up out of the water like he's going to help you recreate that pivotal scene from Dirty Dancing only to throw you back and into the deep end. 

You hold yourself in a ball and sink, breath held, channeling your best hello darkness my old friend as you wait for the inevitable. It takes less than ten seconds before Jaehyun dives in after you, pulling you up.

“Got you,” you say, grinning through the trickles of warm water. Jaehyun looks less than amused, lips thinning into a tight line as water drips from his bleached blond hair.

"Don't scare us like that," Doyoung gripes, joining you a few seconds too late. You shoot him and Jungwoo a look over your perch on Jaehyun's arm, clinging to him for comfort.

“Yeah, please.” Jaehyun breathes. 

"Is my makeup coming off?" you ask. He's been staring at you funnily as you float beside him, bodies brushed up in the expansion of his clothing and the occasional contact with his frame.

"What?" Your best friend sounds dazed, water collecting in his dimples as he smiles softly.

"What?" You parrot, teasing, mirroring him in the way your eyes dart to his mouth, not surprised to find his lip trembling. His uplit face is shadowed with hidden feelings you can only guess at. 

That years-old urge to kiss him returns. It could be considered revenge for back when he'd grabbed you and given you a taste of what it would be like that day after he’d come back from his trip abroad. You'd melted into him like it was the most natural thing in the world, the illusion only broken when Johnny had slammed the rooftop door shut on the way back down, flowers for whatever apology he'd half-assed scattered across the dirty tar paper.

You'd slapped him afterwards, surprised to find him smiling. He's in love with you, isn't he? Had to be sure.

There'd been so many times after that he'd played with your feelings you'd lost count, but one constant remained: he would never pursue you fully if he believed it would hurt his best friend.

Your chest feels tight just imagining what might have been, had you changed course back then. But you've long given up dwelling on might have beens.

Jaehyun is less mercurial now that he's older so you’re the one to catch him by surprise, lips pressing to his cheek right beside his mouth–in the smile lines you know too well. It's a quick send-off before Jungwoo can grab his legs and pull him under from below. 

Doyoung takes the opportunity to capture you by the waist, keeping you from becoming a casualty of their underwater fight. He looks just as serious as always, even without his usual glasses.

"Sorry about the dress," you say, working to stay afloat.

He laughs at you, prone to condescension as always. "If you like it we can get you another. But do you really want to wear the same thing twice?"

"Some of us can't replace our wardrobe every week," you huff. 

"Are you under the impression I'm replacing a bespoke suit collection every week? All I'm saying is you should have a new dress for every occasion. Especially if you're with us."

You jab him in the side, surprised at the hardness of his ribs but also delighted by his startled wheeze. 

"I'm not your kept woman."

"Not even if we want to keep you to ourselves?" 

A little shiver runs through you, making eye contact with him as he mouths the waterline. It's said so innocently but you know better. He and Woo had been dropping double entendres since well before takeoff from Seoul.

Flirting was Jungwoo's thing, a silver lining to the dark shadow of a personality that enjoyed being subtly in control. As the future heir to a crime syndicate it was much better than experiencing his hidden anger. Doyoung though . . . as much as he dabbled in shadier scenes and pretended to be a womanizer he's old-old-old money, from a strata inaccessible to anyone who's genealogy can't be traced back to the Goryeo dynasty. 

The idea of him folding you into his life, much less keeping you, is absurd.

“Well that does seem to go against the whole idea of this being a trip to finally get over . . . everything,” you say, deflecting from his intensity. “What happened to letting me live like the F4 for one week?”

“Is this not it?” He quirks an eyebrow at you. 

“What if I want you to play wingman for me? Find me something meaningless to distract me?”

You're not expecting the dark storm that settles over his refined features.

“I think you have enough distractions here to keep you occupied.”

Your pulse picks up, hearing the hidden message loud and clear. He'd heard your laments to Jungwoo about how long it had been since you even thought about being with someone else, how you'd never really gotten to date after three brutal years of school, work, and accidentally making the worst chaebol tyrant in Seoul fall for you. 

Now that you're free for the first time in your adult life, you want to experience what it's like to be just another girl, like the ones they so frequently invited to their tables at function and club alike.

"Are you insinuating you're not going to let me bring anyone back if I find a fling? After I just spent all night singing your praises to a healthy pool of candidates? Double standard, much?"

Doyoung wraps an arm around you to keep your head from knocking against the tiled pool edge. He's backed you into it without you even noticing it. 

"You can try," he says, gripping the wall next to your cheek. "Though I would question the sanity and intelligence of anyone who took you up on it." 

There's his brand of cruelty: casual threats delivered without a hint of remorse. You'd been on the receiving end, perhaps were now, but you're not afraid of him in the slightest.

"You're not reporting all of this to him, are you?" 

Doyoung doesn't answer, nostrils flaring. 

"Or is he only texting 'Woo back?" you ask. 

"Who texted me?" Jungwoo asks with open curiosity behind him. 

Doyoung presses a single finger to your lips in warning, releasing you. 

"Didn't you get the number of that model? Miss Thailand 2016 runner-up?" You toss your head slightly to clear it, still feeling heat suffuse your cheeks from just a touch against your mouth. It really had been too long. 

"Oh she's too good for me," Jungwoo remarks, jokingly. "Besides, I already have a failed beauty queen right here." 

You snort. “In what world is second place a failure when it’s your first time?”

The contest had just been a university charity project but you'd worked hard to earn that spot after Johnny had entered you in as some kind of sick game from abroad. Jungwoo had helped you conquer it–had even got you a side gig modeling when his usual partner had dropped out at the last minute at one of his shoots. You’d just been there to deliver coffee and now you were on a cover being printed in 15 different countries. 

You always liked reminding Jungwoo of his Pygmalion moment because that's when you'd genuinely seen his kinder side–even if you suspected he may have threatened at least two of the judges to land you on the final stage. Losing had been worth it to spend time with the member of the F4 you’d never been close to in high school. 

"Maybe she doesn't deserve you," you say, swimming around him to grab him loosely around the shoulders. “Not many can appreciate having a personal rescue dog to save them from getting wrinkly fingers.”

You're immediately indulged, Jungwoo paddling you back to the shallow end where Jaehyun is lost in thought, staring at white blossoms from one of the trees in the courtyard floating in front of him. Doyoung is just as contemplative. 

It’s probably best to not let it stretch out any longer–you were always a fan of ripping the bandage off quickly even if it hurt. 

"I'm going to go take a shower and call it a night." You announce, hearing Jungwoo groan. "Unless . . ."

"Unless what?" Jungwoo perks. Jaehyun squints up at you where you stand over him. You look at Doyoung instead, as he drags himself out of the water to sit on the ledge beside the stairs.

"Unless you tell me what we really are."

The buzz of cicadas seems to die a little, soft music inside the house drifting out through the glass. 

"Friends, hopefully?" Jungwoo says.

"Well you aren't bullying me anymore, so yes. But friends don't keep their friends from moving on from past relationships."

"That's not at all—" Doyoung begins.

"Let me finish," you interrupt. He's immediately quiet, throat bobbing as he looks beside you at Jaehyun's taut shoulders.

"I'll never fit in with you or your world but we both stopped judging each other for that a long time ago, I think. I like spending time with you, I like knowing you'll still include me even if . . . " You can't bring yourself to say Johnny's name. "Even if I'm just another ghost who's outstayed her welcome."

It was their term for dropped flings and casual encounters, with a whole subset of terminology for the ones who couldn't get the hint (poltergeist), or lost their cool at their dismissal by screaming and crying (banshees). 

It hadn't been like that for you even the second or fifth time Johnny had broken up with you–always for reasons out of your control. You'd shown him the same aggression and cruelty in answer, but you’d never begged for him to take you back, ever, and you certainly had never sought out his friends. 

It had always been their prerogative to spend time with you, and you’d leaned into it your freshman year of university study and singlehood, wanting the support network denied you by being alone and poor in a city you could barely afford. You’d never take their money but you had accepted their company, and had enjoyed it far more than you could have imagined. 

Even if it kept you in Johnny Suh’s outer orbit, what you had with them meant something to you. You didn’t want to lose it when he came back. From the press releases about his recent promotion, it would seem to be soon.

Waiting for that inevitability is like attending your own funeral before you’re dead, pallbearers for company. 

"You're not a ghost," Jaehyun says. "And we won't abandon you, ever."

"You'll just keep me and this dynamic trapped in amber until Johnny changes his mind, then? It's been a year already. I don't want to lose any more of my youth to him, and I don't want to lose you when he comes back and you all act like he's done nothing wrong."

"That won't happen," Doyoung says, sighing. 

"No, because I'll leave before then." You get out of the water, brushing your face free of the hot tears. "Wouldn't want to ruin your fun."

Jaehyun pulls you back, strong enough you lose your footing and sink into his submerged lap. 

"You're not going anywhere," he says. There's no malice or anger in his tone, just quiet assurance. He cleans your face again, blue silk cuff coming away black with mascara. 

"You asked what we are. Remember when you used to come sit next to me under that stupid ad?" 

"Yeah?" you sniff. You'd spent hours with him sitting on a city bench as he stared up at a billboard for luxury clothing with her face on it. She’d been the dream he chased at your urging, the fantasy that had sadly broken with proximity.

"When I was in France, after things became clear, I would go and sit somewhere and pretend like you were there with me."

"I hope it was somewhere fun, like the Louvre," you joke. 

"Too crowded." He shakes his head, smirking. "Would look weird talking to myself."

"Oh you talked to invisible me but you couldn't pick up the phone once?"

He shakes his head again, squeezing you. 

"Anyway. The point is you're stuck with me. And them."

"And Johnny . . .?" 

"Stop bringing up our ex," Doyoung says. Not your ex, our ex. 

"It's a valid concern," you say, adjusting in Jaehyun's hold to rest your head against his damp shoulder. "I'm not going back to him. And I know you'll choose him over anyone else."

"No," Jaehyun says. 

"You're the exception." 

You lift your head to blink up at Doyoung.

"Didn't think you made those."

"Well you just haven't spent enough time with me, then."

"You planning on spending time with me?" You smile lazily, hand drifting to squeeze his leg. It's always fun to see his unflappable face twitch.

"He already blocked off half his itinerary for private tours. Jaehyun had to fight him to split it equally," Jungwoo says. Doyoung splashes water into his face with his foot.

"I wanted it to be a surprise," he says sourly. 

"Like the massage tomorrow morning?" 

This time Doyoung's kick makes waves wash over you and Jaehyun, leaving you spluttering.

Jungwoo takes it, smiling once his floppy brown hair is pushed back out of his eyes again. He grins at you from the water. "You'll take your dog for a walk when you remember I exist, right?" 

"Why not just come with us?" You'd often wondered if there was an invisible tether for how often they appeared together.

Doyoung clears his throat, Jaehyun shifting uncomfortably under you. 

"What am I missing?" You laugh awkwardly, looking between them. 

"I forget the only man you've ever dated never dated anyone seriously, either." Doyoung looks somewhat pleased with himself. "Traditionally when you spend time with someone you're interested in you don't have company–"

Shock runs through you like ice dumped over your head. "You can't be serious."

Doyoung's face is incredibly serious, Jaehyun's proving only a little more relaxed about the disclosure. You turn around to Jungwoo, floating nearby with a humored expression. 

"You're not part of this are you, 'Woo?"

"Of course I am. You deserve a break from stuffy museums and romantic dinners to have some real fun."

His eyebrows lower a bit in some sinister joke, and for the first time a little fear courses through you. It's been a long time since you saw their manipulative and controlling side, but bringing you to a foreign country to date you, their best friend’s ex, without telling you . . . That's a whole new level of it.

"This isn't a competition, is it?" You hide the tremor in your voice. 

"Between us? Of course it is," Jungwoo says.

"And the terms?" You look at Jaehyun, who is unable to meet your gaze. "Let me guess, whoever fucks me first?" 

His eyes widen in genuine dismay, panicking. "No, of course not–we just wanted to give you a chance to decide if . . ."

"If what?" 

"If you liked one of us more than the others," Doyoung finishes for him. 

You find yourself breathing heavily, face flushed. 

"What if I can't choose?" You ask, gaze fixing on Jaehyun's mouth as he bites his lip, still looking guilty. 

"If you decide you don't want to be with any of us, then things stay the same. Nothing changes. We'll still be friends." He says it all slowly, deliberately, almost as if it’s rehearsed.

"And if I choose one of you? Do I get to suffer the jealousy complex of another deeply insecure and emotionally unavailable man?"

That hits them where it counts. They'd all watched Johnny take out his fears on you, masked under bravado, posturing for an audience that more often than not was just you and his friends. His peers had rarely done the same, unless you counted Jungwoo following his enforcement orders like a loyal hound or Doyoung orchestrating clean-ups. 

No, they'd skated clean through multiple horrorshows by simply being there to throw their weight. No one else had the notoriety and resources to cover up the trail of damage left in Suh's wake.

You stand up again, turning between them. "And none of you are worried about Johnny finding out?"

A lump forms in your throat, bitterness about even having to invoke your own personal demon. Yes he'd walked away, but you knew his sense of entitlement would never allow his interests to be compromised by another–especially his closest companions.

And here they are, looking between each other and discussing your fate with the deliberate calm of a business transaction.

Apparently the only consequences were for you.

"Or is that the real game you're playing here," you ask. "Degrade me so far in his eyes he'll want nothing to do with me while you write me off as disloyal trash."

Jaehyun sucks his breath in through his teeth, and you note how hurt he looks. Jungwoo seems even more upset, full bottom lip jutting out.

"I know what you've been through, and I know it will be a long time to forget," Doyoung says. "But we're not him."

You remember an old saying your father had taught you: when you're holding a hammer everything looks like a nail. Better applied to problem-solving perhaps, but you'd also been dealing with one, giant nail-shaped problem since he'd crashed into your life. It was stuck in your heart and time and healing hadn't removed it. Maybe it was permanent, but you still had to live with it. 

"I just don't understand how you think you think this will work."

"You're awfully concerned about what he thinks," Jungwoo says, rising over you. "What about moving on?" 

"I don't give a fuck what he thinks. I'm just looking out for you. You know he'll punch first and ask questions later. What if he does something reckless?"

Jungwoo is laughing at you through closed lips, eyes crescented in mirth. "We have you to protect us, right? Just roundhouse kick him in the face again."

“That was lucky,” you say. “He wasn’t trying to murder me, either. There’s probably an American hitman on his way right now to take us all out and make it look like an accident.” 

“He would definitely hire locally,” Jungwoo corrects you. 

“And here I thought you were braver than that,” Doyoung muses. “Do you think we need his permission? You certainly don't.”

That makes you pause. You look at Jaehyun. Of all the people in the world he was the closest to their former leader. They’d fought even more than he and you had, and Jaehyun had always conceded, taking it on the chin, letting Johnny drag him along in his wake. The one time he'd stood up to him had been for you and it had almost fractured everything irreparably.

His black eyes pierce into you when he looks up. 

“I think y/n can make any decision she wants to,” he says dangerously. “None of us will stand in your way, whatever you choose.” 

“You promise?” you ask, tilting your head to let your wet hair brush over your bare shoulder. 

“Cross my heart and hope to die,” Jungwoo says. 

You wait for the others to show visual signs of concession: Jaehyun nodding, Doyoung making the sign of the cross in what is an obvious misuse of the gesture. 

“Good. Because if Johnny finds out what I’m doing on this trip, he’s not the only one who will kill you.”

"I think we should start enacting a punishment whenever she brings him up again," Doyoung says.

"Great idea," Jungwoo says, sweeping you into his wet hold from behind. The chill you'd been feeling exposed to the air dissipates a little, his warm chest against your bare shoulders. You shiver a little at the intimacy, feeling him laugh even if he doesn’t make a sound.

“What will it be?” Doyoung defers to Jaehyun.

He leans back . “She does something to distract herself.”

You purse your lips together, affecting an air of deep thought. "My choice?"

"Always," he says, not breaking eye contact. 

"Rock, paper, scissors, then." You nod at him. He grins, Doyoung groans. Jungwoo's long arms wrap around your waist, hands already in position. 

"Surely there's a better way we could eliminate your options," Doyoung says, almost missing the cue and throwing paper to the other two's scissors. 

"Better luck next time," you tease.

"Kiss it for luck." The back of Jungwoo's hand presses to your mouth moments before Jaehyun initiates. 

Jungwoo loses the second quick round after a draw, crushed by Jaehyun's rock. 

"I should have known you were cursed." Jungwoo pouts, not letting you free until you've ducked back into the water to escape him. You give him a wink as you swim towards the stairs, emerging between Jaehyun's spread legs before he can close them. 

"What are you doing?" he asks, warily, still leaned back against the last stair.

"What I want," you say, blinking drops from your lashes. You move weightlessly on to his thighs, grabbing his soft face in your hands. He's unable to process what's happening quickly enough to respond as you tilt his face up and press a gentle kiss to his parted mouth. 

You ignore Jungwoo's wolf-whistle in the background, partially aware Doyoung has shifted nearby the moment you'd slid into your friend's lap. All that is noise as the gentle sound of the water feature drowns the startled sound you make when you're grabbed and pulled back to Jaehyun's mouth. 

This time it's real: solid and delicious as he crushes against you, tongue sliding across the seam of your lips until you let go of your held breath to softly exhale into his. Small dips of his chin coax you into opening for him, your hands threading into his hair to anticipate his movements as he kisses you like it's the last time in his life he'll ever get the chance. 

"That's enough," Doyoung says, Jungwoo booing him. 

The other two may as well not exist, your thumbs circling Jaehyun's cheekbones as you retreat to inspect the damage. He's usually so composed it feels like peering into a different universe's version of him, rapture and satisfaction warring with concern in his expression. 

"Thank you," you whisper. His eyes focus again, teeth exposed as he tongues them. 

"Any time," he says. It's funny how instantly he regrets the word choice, the pink in his ears and cheeks deepening.

"Not thinking about you-know-who now, are you?" Jungwoo asks, right behind you. 

"No," you say. "But I suspect you wish I'd say yes if only for the consequences."

"That was hot," he admits. "But I don't typically like my prospects thinking about other men." 

"Can I tell you a secret?" You crook your finger, clutching on to Jungwoo's wet patterned shirt when he leans down far enough to be in range. 

"I only made you play for it so we could find out who goes first." You say it in his ear, letting your mouth drag against the shell.

He pulls back, hesitant, nose brushing against your cheek. 

"Really?" 

"Kiss me and find out," you offer. 

He doesn't wait, lashes against his cheeks as he meets you halfway, tilting your head to the side for full exploration of your lips. He's much gentler than you expected, shy almost, tender even when your tongue meets his and you can taste the hint of sticky mango rice you'd had for dessert earlier. 

"Good boy," you say once you've broken free. He smiles in the way you're used to the most, right side of his face crooking with an edge of deviousness.

You turn to find Jaehyun watching, eyes starry with arousal but unreadable. Doyoung is on his feet as if he's preparing his exit, expression stony. 

"Is something wrong?" you ask, meeting his calculating stare.

Doyoung opens and shuts his mouth, water pooling at his feet. 

"Not enough punishment for you?" There's an edge to your voice that you recognize as the tone you'd used many times before, in your idiotic quest to tame one of his own. 

The tension breaks when Doyoung laughs softly, crouching down and crooking his finger. You wade up the steps to meet him, hyper aware of the drag of eyes on you as you emerge from the water, dress clinging to your skin. 

"I planned out such a nice trip for you, and this is what you really want?" Doyoung asks, eyes traveling down your body and back to your face in the kind of assessment that you'd seen other people wither under. 

"Why do you think I agreed to come?"

“Noted.”

He nods, slightly, but makes no move to take what you'd already given the others. You don't let it dissuade you, fingers digging into the hard line of his shoulders to press your lips to his. 

It's like kissing a statue. A challenge you're willing to meet as you delve further, rocking him back on his heels. You pry open his mouth with gentle bites and licks between each kiss, past his perfect teeth until you can explore his tongue with your own. You don't realize your hands are fisted in his wet hair until you're done, finding him collapsed on the wet cement, panting. 

"Was that sufficient punishment?" you ask.

"For you? Absolutely not," Doyoung says, the rare full smile gracing his kiss-swollen mouth. "For them? Yes."

You glance back at your other two companions, clocking that they're both nearer than you remembered. Jaehyun's hand drifts over your hip, as if he's questioning letting you go in the first place. 

"Should we set some rules? Or are you all going to take them as an excuse to break them?"

Jungwoo chuckles. 

"No competition. Equal time, equal attention. And no possessiveness," you state. Doyoung looks up from under his brows with amusement, clearly enjoying your groundless attempt to set boundaries. 

"I don't care what you throw at me as long as you don't walk back what you said about our friendship."

"I think we're something different now," Jaehyun says, voice cracking.

"I know," you say. You run a hand over his head, feeling his temple come to rest against your waist. "But you crossed that line first. I'm just saving you the trouble of playing some silly game to come on to me. I'm not a prize to win. I'm a person who knows you all better than you think."

You turn to Doyoung again, holding your ground. "You said you'd give me the true F4 experience."

"Within reason," he demures. 

"Then lose your hangups and let me have a taste of what it's like to be just one of those girls you have no problem with having fun with. No special treatment, no regrets."

The stunned silence has you feeling a twinge of embarrassment at pushing your agenda this far.

"Impossible," Jungwoo answers. 

"Why not?"

He pulls the hair away from your neck to kiss beneath your ear. Gooseflesh appears on your arms even in the warm air, anticipating his answer, but he's too occupied with trailing his mouth down, sucking lightly over your pulse. You feel dizzy, hand reaching back to hold his head to you.

Once he's had enough of watching you unravel Doyoung jerks you forward, grip tight around your wrist.

It's a familiar gesture, a reminder you are at their mercy. He cuffs his hand around your neck like he's going in for another kiss, stopping at a few inches. 

"You don't get to set all the rules. This one especially. You are not just some girl with whom we engage in forgettable, inconsequential relations."

He pauses, eyes darting to your mouth before meeting yours again. "If we go down this path you're getting the real thing. All of it."

"We know you have experience." Jungwoo adds. 

Oh you knew. They fucked around but they were careful about it, always gentlemen, always above board. NDAs in some cases, mostly for Doyoung. You didn’t know all of their specific proclivities outside of Jungwoo exclusively chasing women a generation older but you suspected whatever they enjoyed was much less wholesome. 

Like Johnny's needs once he'd finally had you. He'd bent that way and much, much more. The difference was he'd never been as precious with you as they were with their little conquests.

If they didn't want the safety of a legal cushion it didn't mean they didn't need it–they just didn't think it would be a problem.

"I'm sure you've heard a lot of things about me," you say. A whisper of rage underlies the words, colored by so many rumors foisted on you well before you'd ever accepted their company–even more when they had. 

Whore. Cockslut. Used goods.

Johnny had always been a contradiction–surprisingly prudish about sex but quick to use the grossest allusions to it when pressed for details by his friends, liberal in his name calling. They'd known him since childhood–they didn't believe him, even if everyone else had taken his words as gospel. You'd had your revenge by proving just how true those words could be in private.

"We don't know anything you don't," Jaehyun says, quickly. 

"Still, I don't think you know what you're signing up for," you say. "If anyone is using anyone in this arrangement, it's going to be me. Or I'm out."

"You worried we can't show you a good time?" Jungwoo asks. It's a funny question with him pressed into your back like he'll push your head down into the water if you answer incorrectly.

"I'm worried you'll chicken out," you say, grabbing Doyoung's wrist to keep his fingers on you, covering them with yours to increase the tension. You'd always been strong.

Doyoung's expression is matched by his lingering hold on your throat, squeezing a little and making your eyes drift shut in pleasure.

"You always did seem to enjoy the humiliation a little more than our other targets. Can't say it wasn't an encouraging factor. You like it, don't you?"

He lets you go with a slight push, registering the way your eyes haze over with reflected lust.

"Yeah. Blame a few formative years of getting my signals crossed. Just part of the damage." There's no shame in your voice, another casualty of their efforts.

"You're not damaged," Jaehyun remarks.

"Not beyond repair," you agree, gaze burning into Doyoung's. His regard is a thousand times more revealing than a kiss, most especially the tic in his cheek every time Jungwoo decides to leave a mark with his tongue and teeth on your throat and you reward him with a moan.

"Should be fun seeing which one of us can push past your comfort zone, then," Jungwoo says, breath cooling the last bruise he's left on the back of your neck. "Find out if you have one."

"You're not dropping the competition?" 

Nervous anticipation gives you butterflies, different than the ones springing up being teased by the three of them. Not one of them accepted being outclassed.

"No." Jaehyun says it well before the others. His hands drop to your legs to hold you steady as Jungwoo continues his assault on your neck. "But equal opportunity. I think we can all agree on that."

"Don't worry, we'll play fair," Jungwoo says, biting your shoulder. You jerk in his grasp, vaguely aware of fingers at your hem. Doyoung continues to watch, tongue darting over his lips.

"I hope not," you say. "I won't."

It's all the permission your captors need.

Your breath stutters as Jaehyun's hand slides up your inner thigh, circling the wet skin absent-mindedly. You whine a little, teased by the first intimate touch you've had in months.

"You better stay quiet. We do have neighbors," Doyoung says, voice pitched low.

"Think you can shut me up?"

He takes the hint, sliding his legs back over the ledge, letting you finish unbuttoning his shirt to expose his creamy skin. You spread your fingers over his firm abdomen, flicking aside the sheer fabric. He's intoxicatingly sensitive, muscles tensing as you follow the path of water down his long waist.

"You sure you want to play this game?" Doyoung asks, hand resting on your shaking fingers as you struggle to unbutton his damp jeans.

You look down at Jaehyun, smiling at him when you find he's still enraptured by your upper thighs. You wait until he looks back up, head cocked for permission.

"You alright with sharing me, tonight?"

Miles are crossed, bridges are burned as he contemplates the ask, returning to his shy efforts at warming your naked skin, lifting your hem to dangerous territory.

"Wouldn't dare stand in your way."

Jaehyun's approval is the best thing you've seen in a long time, even more so when he adjusts to be eye level with your now exposed underwear, back pressed to Doyoung's leg. 

Jungwoo tugs at the strap of your dress playfully. 

"Can puppy wait his turn?" you ask, looking up at your other torturer. 

Jungwoo kisses you over your shoulder, messily, before casually breaking one of the thin straps of your dress where it's attached to the delicate gold cherub adornment. The night air pebbles your skin, exposed nipple hardening more as he trails a fingertip lazily around it.

"As long as you need." 

He angles you down a bit towards the other man, just as Jaehyun's mouth finds you through the thin fabric of your lingerie–hot and perfect. Your knees are already weak and you have to catch yourself on Doyoung's thighs as you're touched and kissed and licked, still partially submerged and torn between warm and warmer.

There's a bit of menace in Doyoung's face, watching you unzip and find his length. He adjusts a little when you tug down the elastic waistband of his underwear, his cock already mostly erect despite the water. He's not as big as Johnny but perfectly sized, long and veined as he hardens in your hand. 

You experiment with laves of your tongue against his flushed head, watching him for a reaction through your lashes.

"Sucking me off before I can even take you on a proper date." He tsks, the sound changing when you lower your head, tongue folding around his tip to devour him whole. 

"You look so good with my cock in your mouth," he says. "Wish I could take a picture–"

You cut him short by taking him deeper, feeling him press at the back of your mouth. It's been awhile since you tested your gag reflex.

Thankfully Jaehyun has compromised on watching you while pushing your underwear into your sticky folds, Jungwoo playing with your breasts in the most maddening way possible with soft flicks and tugs. 

Both of them are sending you skyrocketing to a level of joy yet unexperienced this lifetime, much less this year. You have to concentrate on Doyoung to keep from falling apart too quickly.

Jungwoo's long fingers help clear your hair from your face so you can breathe, giving them all a better view as you choke, letting drool slip from your mouth as you take it deep and hard. 

The noises coming from your throat are nowhere near as obscene as the sounds Doyoung makes, angled back and thrusting weakly with each moan. You always thought his voice was beautiful, scratchy and breathy, but hearing him say your name in between gasps has your entire body enflamed. 

"Fuck, you're good," Doyoung says quietly, angled back on his elbows. 

Jungwoo holds your damp hair back, wrapping it in his fist to help guide you more gently. You relax your throat and take it, tears leaking from your eyes. If touch had you vibrating before, the sensation of being debased in this way has you dripping, your arousal exposed by Jaehyun's fingers slipping your panties down to the water.

"She's soaked," he says, running a single finger through your folds. You answer with a groan, other hand in his hair to hold him back before he can dip in again.

Jungwoo tests you, too, giving you a few swipes to collect your slick. He brings his fingertips to your mouth when you finally take a breath, letting you clean them.

It's delightful how Doyoung is unraveling already, arched back, eyes glassy. He drinks in the sight of you sucking two of Jungwoo's fingers until your cheeks hollow.

"You think you can finish what you started?" you ask.

"I don't think I'll ever want it to end," he admits.

"How about coming on my tongue?" You ask, pumping him slowly. You chase the taste of yourself with kitten licks of the beads of white on his head, going lower to trace his veins. 

"Only if you want to swallow everyone tonight," Doyoung says. The offer is tempting. You hesitate long enough that he reads you like an open book, adding an edge of threat. "Or do you want to be stuffed like the little whore you are?"

The affectation has you seizing up in long-withheld gratification. Jungwoo grinds against your ass as Jaehyun ignores your hold to finally lick long paths up your inner thighs, chasing trails of slippery arousal and water to dive in, fingers spreading your legs wide.

It's impossible to find a retort, sinking back into Jungwoo's embrace as you're attacked from below.

"I think you should only fuck me if you can make me come," you counter. "And it's still Jaehyun's turn–"

Your words are punctuated by a cry, Jungwoo's hand clapped over your mouth as Jaehyun pumps into you with two fingers, hooking into your g-spot.

"Ooh," Jungwoo says over your head. "Guess you'll have to wait." 

Doyoung sighs, taking over with his hand when you're bodily dragged back, Jungwoo lifting your dress to take it off. 

"Leave it on," Doyoung says. "The ravaged look suits her." 

You shoot him a look, unable to maintain your expression when Jaehyun's mouth works likes he's devouring you in turn, teeth scraping as he explores every inch of you, teasing your clit with darts of his tongue. Jungwoo frees your mouth to let you breathe, babbled words of praise spilling from you in between small cries.

"So good, so right, god, fuck–fuck." You're inarticulate as Jaehyun pumps his fingers slowly, spreading you and pressing right below his languid tongueing. Jungwoo's attention returns to your sensitive breasts, gently twisting each bud between his fingertips. 

"Keep it down," Doyoung warns, but it's impossible. 

Electric tingles spread down to your toes, tipped against the smooth pool floor. You let yourself relax in Jungwoo's hold, curling over your lover's head. Jaehyun is incredibly careful with you even as you're brought deeper, water lapping at his collarbones as he holds you spread and licks you in broad swaths. 

"Need a hand?" Jungwoo asks, somehow catching Jaehyun's nod mid-effort. You're unmoored by the hand that slips in from behind, fingers curling into you shallowly, water lapping your immersed buttocks. Jaehyun gives up control but he's still also buried in you, drawing wetness out of you with each stroke of his fingers.

Jungwoo matches his speed, knuckle to knuckle, as Jaehyun moves up to apply pressure to your clit again. 

"You two can get her ready. I want her after she's been used," Jungwoo says. 

"Of course you do," Doyoung says, dropping back in the water, demanding your attention. You indulge him with your hand, pumping him loosely beneath the surface. It's hard to coordinate as Jungwoo's hand fucks you into the pressure of Jaehyun's grip tight on your upper thighs, each circle of his tongue on your clit making your vision shimmer. 

"She's so close. Bet we can make her squirt." 

"No," you say, automatically self-conscious. 

"Did you hear that? She thinks she has a choice." The heel of Jungwoo's palm smacks wetly against your ass as he finger-fucks you, already too much before Jaehyun seems to pull you towards him, pressing hard into your walls. It's unlike anything you've ever felt, completely at their mercy as Jaehyun applies suction to your clit to bring you to the brink. 

"Come for us," Doyoung says. He's pressed to your side, rutting against your waist while taking your mouth to keep the shriek building inside your throat muffled.

There's no controlling the powerful waves tearing through your core, your legs shaking and buckling as the orgasm begins and doesn't seem to end, torn from you between all three of them. A hot gush of liquid coats your thighs as you throb around their fingers, pleasure morphing into pain until you're begging for them to stop. 

Jaehyun is the first to let you go, rising to share your release with a crushing kiss that takes your breath away, Jungwoo's fingers still reaching deep inside you.

"Good girl," Jungwoo says. "Was that your first time?"

You nod, cheeks hot, forehead pressed to Jaehyun's. You cling to him, still not quite down to earth from your climax. 

"Thank you," Jaehyun says, laughing slightly. "Was that too intense?"

"No," you shake your head. "Just hold me, please."

"Forever," he says, lifting you to straddle his hips. He manages the stairs to collapse on the deck, wrapping you tight in his arms as you kiss him deeply, cleaning his face of your release with gentle swipes of your fingers.

"You sure you don't want to go inside?" he asks, when you begin to unwrap him from his shirt. 

"I need you so much," you say. "I can't wait another moment."

He grins, shyly, kissing you as you help him out of his undershirt to reveal his swimmer's frame, triangular torso buckling into visible abdominal muscles. He's breath-taking, even more beautiful when you help him out of his pants and underwear to find his thighs flexed beneath his hard cock, shorter but thicker and so perfectly full and ready for you to sink down on. 

He doesn't question taking you raw–brow furrowing in concentration as you adjust to his girth slowly.

"We'll do this without an audience soon," you whisper, hoping he can still hear you as he bottoms out in your heat and his eyes flutter shut. 

"Yeah," he says, breathily. He's not moving, soaking in the sensation of having you completely wrapped around him. "I couldn't wait, either. You feel just as perfect as I imagined."

"So good," you assure him, moving for him. The lingering effects of coming harder than you think you ever have in your life aren't stopping you from bearing down on him, taking him harder and deeper with his wide shoulders for leverage. 

"Fuck, baby," Jaehyun growls. "I'm not gonna last like this."

He takes control with a firm grasp on your waist, pumping up into you. Soon he's bouncing you mercilessly into his hips, laid back on his wet clothes.

You haven't forgotten about the other two men, not when Doyoung's kneeled behind you, straddling Jaehyun's legs to stroke himself against the swell of your ass. 

Jungwoo grabs your hand to wrap around his own exposed cock, letting you feel him before you can even take in the sight of him bobbing over your head. Your finger and thumb can barely connect around his shaft, length too much to fit half of it in your mouth before you know it will be in your throat. Now you understand why the screams you'd heard from his room always sounded on the borderline of pain. 

"Too much for you?" He asks, angling the velvety soft head to catch on your open lips. Jaehyun slows down his thrusts to let you ease into taking the other man, pumping Jungwoo's base as best as you can as you sloppily accept the suffocation.

"Must have had a lot of practice getting your throat fucked to take me so well," he says, angling your head to move past the back of your tongue. You can't answer so you squeeze his balls instead, applying just enough pressure with your nails to have him groaning in appreciation. 

You lose your rhythm when you feel spit drip down your back, Doyoung collecting your earlier release from your thighs and mixing it with his saliva to rub his fingers against your puckered hole.

"Are you gonna be a good girl for all of us?" he asks, pressing a digit into the ring of muscle, causing you to choke on the heavy weight in your mouth.  

Jungwoo pulls out, saliva trailing from your lips as he gives you a break to adjust. You press your forehead to the sheer tank separating you from his flat belly as you look over your shoulder.

"I can take it," you say, trying to relax. Doyoung inserts another slender finger, making you clench around him and Jaehyun until the other man is panting. 

"I didn't ask if you could take it. I asked if you were going to be good."

"Fuck me and find out," you taunt. He's not like the others–he denies you anything but the wedge of his fingers into your ass, adding a third to stretch you when you're not loose enough. 

Jaehyun fucks against the intrusion, holding out until you're closer as he twines his fingers with yours and watches you work Jungwoo's oversized cock in your mouth and hand. 

"Knew you were a little slut who wanted to have all her holes stuffed. One of us wasn't enough for you, you had to make us share. I'm the only one who gets to fuck this tight little ass, though."

Doyoung drops another gob of spit on the dimple at the base of your spine, letting it slide over the gape left when he slides out his fingers. You cry out at the first intrusion of his cock into your barely-lubed hole, fighting to stay on top of Jaehyun as he works in with shallow thrusts, inch by agonizing inch.

"Keep forcing me out," Doyoung says. "I'll just fuck you harder." 

As if to prove his point he grabs on to your ruined dress at the back, arching your spine for you and making you take him deeper. The burning pain blurs into delicious aching pleasure–you needed this more than you could have even imagined. Jaehyun grunts inarticulately, palming your breasts and squeezing them in time to the ecstatic shudders rolling through your body as you're filled. 

"Open up for me," Jungwoo says, cock back in your gaping mouth. You let him hold you by the hair to fuck into your mouth, spit and tears mixing to splash on your breasts. 

When they resume their individual efforts you feel yourself being pulled apart by sensation, only able to manage sharp breaths through your nose to keep from drowning as tears leak from your eyes and sobs rip from your throat. 

"No cumming until she creams herself on Jaehyun," Doyoung says, reaching around to press hard into your clit. It's a hard ask with how overstimulated you already are but you can feel your muscles tightening against your will. Doyoung and Jaehyun's uhhs and mms mix in your ears, Jungwoo softly praising you when your jaw relaxes to swallow him despite the rock of your body against the other two. 

"Fuck she's so tight," Jaehyun says. "I don't know if I can wait."

"Wait." Doyoung orders, picking up his pace. "She's close. Make sure she remembers to breathe."

Jungwoo groans, pulling out with a last slap of his head on your tongue, letting you lap at the precum leaking from him. "You two are useless." 

He kneels down beside you, wresting Doyoung's hand away from your sore folds and rubbing soft, tight circles around your nub. It's not the stimulation as much as his mouth on yours, kissing with as much care and intimacy as you'd felt before, that carries you to a peak again.

"Oh fuck," Jaehyun says, lifting you with a last upwards jerk of his hips and spilling inside you. The rush of warm heat is so good you chase it, overworked muscles unable to hold against the sensation and twitching powerfully around both of their cocks buried deep inside you. 

Just as quickly your knees give out, collapsing half on Jaehyun and Jungwoo. Doyoung's shallow movements turn violent as he no longer bothers to keep you locked on Jaehyun, thrusting a few more times into your throbbing heat before emptying himself and pulling out to rub the last few spurts onto your skin.

"Shh," Jungwoo says when you continue to whimper, sniffling from the tears sliding down your cheeks. "You're almost done."

You shake your head half-heartedly, clinging to his shirt. You're dizzy, adrenaline fading and leaving you boneless and blotted out.

"Please. Maybe just a breather?" you beg. "My legs . . ." 

Jaehyun lifts you, and you hiss at the raw pain of your abused knees, grit brushed away by someone else's hands.

"Poor baby." Doyoung says. "Should have done this in bed but you just couldn't wait."

"'S fine," you mumble, swimming in the glow of your last orgasm. "Bed sounds nice."

"Get a towel," Jungwoo says, and Jaehyun rushes to grab one for you. Instead of cleaning or drying you off Jungwoo carries you to the edge of the pool, slipping in and cramming the soft fabric under you as he lets your legs dangle over the edge and into the water.

"What are you doing, puppy?" You manage to ask, holding on to his neck.

"Don't worry. I'll be careful," he says, palming himself between your legs. "Someone want to keep her head up? I need her to watch." 

Jaehyun adjusts to embrace you from behind, spreading your limp legs so they can all see the steady leak of cum from your gaping holes. You hear the telltale click of a picture being taken, distantly aware Doyoung's phone is still–obviously–working.

"What . . . ?" You ask drowsily, acquiescencing to the pull of your dress over your head and off of you. You shiver deeply, warmed by the body heat of the man behind you as the other strips in front of you. 

"You're going to come for us one more time," Jungwoo says, rising out of the water to pump himself at your leaking core. "I'm not letting you go until I can wring every last drop out of you."

"Fuck," you protest, writhing as he pulls you almost off the hard deck and onto his ready length. Jaehyun holds you tight, arm under your breasts as Jungwoo slides into the mess of cum and slick between your thighs. 

"That's right, take it," Jungwoo says, pinning you against Jaehyun. "Breathe, baby." 

"Too much," you sob, finding he's not even fully sheathed when the familiar ache in your belly of being hit too deep whites out your brain. 

"You don't want your puppy?" Jungwoo can barely speak, ramming in deeper with each rock of his hips. "Don't want to be a good mommy and take all of me?" 

Jaehyun is already semi-hard against your back, and you catch Doyoung's approval before he replaces it with a feigned look of disgust, slipping into the water to watch you both. You can see his arm flex, jerking himself underwater, the other holding his phone up. 

"If we'd known you were such a whore we would have fucked you sooner. It looks like you'll need some more breaking in."

You cry out, stretched tight around the thicker root of Jungwoo's cock, letting him wrap your legs over his shoulders for maximum depth. Whatever pain you feel is so merged with the fullness and perfect hit of him against your walls that you don't mind it, you can't help but slip into a dreamy state of bliss. 

"You're doing so well," Jaehyun says into the hair at your temple. "Can't wait to treat you right. Make you come on my tongue again as many times as I can before the sun rises."

"No, no, no," you moan.

Jaehyun pinches your nipple to wake you up, Jungwoo gasping when you manage to clench around him. 

"You both got her pussy first. You should let me take her tonight. Keep her awake by fucking her as soon as she falls asleep." Doyoung threatens, pulling your leg aside to get the best angle of you being impaled and stretched fuller than you'd ever thought you could be. 

"No one's getting her if she doesn't come again," Jungwoo says. He meets your tear-filled gaze, eyes half-lidded. "Is that what you want? To fall asleep on my cock and let me warm you all night until you're ready to fuck me?"

"Please, come for me, puppy," you manage to bite out, touching yourself in earnest to try and fight back. "So big for me, fill me up."

He takes the bait–you're folded in half, legs bent to your chest as he drives in, balls slapping wetly against you. When you're pliant again he readjusts his strokes to press into your upper walls with each rotation of his hips, and for the first time in a long time you realize you're getting close on cock alone. 

Jaehyun seems to feel the change in you, grinding against your back as his hand holds your throat so you can't turn away. The pressure makes you practically feral, crying out for more. 

"Just like that, like that, please please please," you moan over the lap of the water.

"Feel you sucking me in," Jungwoo says, face flushed and sweaty over you, hair dripping water onto your curled belly. "Let go for me so I can come in you so deep you can taste it."

"Yes, yes, please." You buck with the sudden electric tingle of another climax, steady tempo leading you to softer spasms than before. It's fine if you can't tell where you're at or what you're feeling because Jungwoo can, one final snap of his hips dropping you into fucked out darkness. 

When you come to again you're wrapped around him in the pool, gasping at the sensation of his cock still slowly pumping the last of his release into you.

"Trust me," he says, hands under your backside, lowering you into water suspended between the night and the warmth below. 

Doyoung spreads a hand over your breasts, Jaehyun beside him to hold your neck like he's teaching you to float. You let your mouth fall open and your eyes clench shut, tasting pool water before one of them–Doyoung probably, by the sounds--releases thick, white stripes across your tongue. Jaehyun follows suit, cockhead nudging against the underside of your breast as he paints your torso with molten heat. 

"Fuck that was incredible," Jungwoo says, slipping out of you finally so you can sink into the water. You submerge as much as you can to lose the coat of stickiness, until Doyoung decides you're done, pulling you out and against his chest.

"That was . . . a lot," you admit, shaking against him. 

"You did so well." He soothes you with a hand on your head, clearing your hair from your face delicately to press a kiss to your forehead.  The gesture is so at odds with his recent persona that you can't resist burrowing into it, relaxing fully against his naked chest. "Not bad for an initiation."

"I'm one of you, now?" you murmur. 

"Always were," Jaehyun says. He doesn't dare take you from Doyoung but he does lean down to kiss you deeply, hand running broad circles over your spine.

"Just think of all those red cards as an invitation." Jungwoo jokes, sinking down to eye level to caress your cheek. 

You remember scraped knees and busted lips, cafeteria trays dumped on you by entire tables of jealous girls and sycophantic boys. Johnny humiliating you, ordering you to clean his shoe with his tongue when you'd taken the place of your weaker friend who'd spilled on it. 

But you also remember the small moments of acknowledgement–the way Jungwoo had lingered outside your work waiting to get off when you closed to walk you home at night, or how Doyoung had bought out the entire store when you'd used the shitty part-time job as an excuse to duck out of being his date to a formal dinner you had no business being at. 

And most of all, all those hours spent sitting beside Jaehyun in your rooftop retreat, silently appreciating the late afternoon sun turning the city brilliant as you shared one half of a wired headphone.

Maybe having your heart ripped out was worth it, if it meant having this.

"Which one of us do you want to take care of you tonight?" Doyoung asks. 

You smile into his cool skin, melting into the knowledge that you've earned a place very few had shared. You'll enjoy it as long as it can last.

"Play for it."

#nct dojaejung smut #doyoung smut #jaehyun smut #jungwoo smut #nct x reader #nct imagines #nct f4 au #nct dojaejung fic #dojaejung fic #nct fic #nct smut

[merakiui]

Mera, I'm going to need to hear (a lot) more about your reverse harem otome game thoughts. So... give us some imagines about your favorite characters there!

Oooo there are so many thoughts I have regarding it!!! Allow me to share them below. :D

To start, I imagine it’s a little awkward for you because in your world they’re just characters in a game, so for a while you have to follow the plot and avoid saying anything that may raise eyebrows or evoke suspicion (i.e. you have to live through the game’s events as they happen so you can avoid ruining any of the canon events that must take place in order for appropriate character development and whatnot). But also it’s fun to imagine a reader who is awkwardly trying to avoid raising the romance meters and just wants to enjoy school life with Grim. Alas, that will never be the case, not in this otome! >_<

For a reader who has arrived to twst with the burden of an arranged marriage waiting at home, it may be a little stressful to suddenly find yourself in the middle of a reverse harem romance. Maybe you don’t put forth much effort because you’re more interested in exploring the school and the island itself, but in classic otome logic you keep ending up in all kinds of situations with them. Maybe you don’t want to get too attached to anyone because you’re not sure what will happen once you’re sent home, if such a thing is even possible. It’s not like you can just bring him back to your world to get your parents off your back. But then friendship is a dangerous line to tread because it won’t lead to fluffy and sugary-sweet outcomes. You have to stay within the romance parameters. Too low and he’ll snap. Too high and he’ll snap. So to remain in the middle, you do your best to navigate interactions with ease. You don’t even try to impress, and yet he’s charmed by you.

It's also fun to imagine that the romance starts innocent and sweet at first, but then one of the characters says something about how he'd keep you locked up if he could and then you realize, "Oh, so it's a romance like this..." ^^;;;;;;

Riddle is difficult to romance. Pre-Overblot, that is. Every minor infraction, every instance he catches you with your uniform worn askew, and every moment he sees you associating with the troublemaker that is Ace puts your score in the negatives. Riddle’s more prone to snapping at you when his score is so dreadfully low, vicious and cold as he lays down the Heartslabyul law. You’re collared on many occasions. After his Overblot, he’s softer (especially on you) and it’s very easy to curry favor with him. The smallest things have his romance bar rising, such as when you compliment him or remind him that he’s doing well. You think Riddle struggles with romance because his meter rises and falls often, most likely due to his own uncertainty with this subject. He’s not someone you’d classify as an inherently dangerous love interest. Although he does get immensely controlling and obsessive if the score surpasses its peak.

Trey is a difficult character to read. His meter almost never goes up. At least, you never see it go up with your own eyes. It’s usually after the interaction. You meet again and the bar may have gone up a few points since your last meeting. You suspect Trey loves in secret, coveting from afar. The score rises considerably when you bake with him or when you try his sweets. It’s not wise to fall into this habit because trusting Trey is not a good idea. Keep eating his cooking and you might just find yourself waking up in his room, with Trey sitting nearby and explaining that you “fainted.” There’s more behind that placating smile he shows everyone… He’s prone to gaslighting you terribly if his score peaks, and it’s done out of some twisted form of love. After all, you can trust and rely on someone friendly and reliable like Trey!

Cater’s meter seems broken most days. Sometimes it never budges an inch, remaining at zero. But there are moments where it spikes high, so high it felt like a slap the first time you saw it happen. You never know what the catalyst is for this strange score-spiking. Is Cater truly interested in you, or is he just using the new magic-less student from another world to gain Magicam clout? But then his score always rises when he’s taking photos of you. Maybe there’s more to him than you’ll ever know. Cater is so mysterious. He acts like a bestie, but that unpredictable score of his says otherwise. It’s hard to say whether he’s dangerous or not, but if his score strays too high he may become just a little unstable. :)

Deuce’s meter fills fast. He can’t help falling for you. You’re more than a friend or a best friend. That much is obvious when his bar remains nearly filled the longer you spend hanging out with him. It’s easy for Deuce to love you because he’s been with you since the very beginning, and the two of you attend class together. For this reason, he’s very overprotective of you, occasionally reverting back to his delinquent ways if some guys give you trouble. He tries to avoid this, but if his score is beyond the healthy amount then it happens more often.

Ace is another character who is always in close proximity with you. Like Deuce, he grows closer with you throughout the happenings in the main story. And even outside of that, he continues to attend class and hang out with you. You see a lot of Ace, not only because he's a classmate but also a friend. Ace's romance bar doesn't fluctuate often, and in the beginning stages of your friendship it remains relatively low. But by Scarabia's book, when he and Deuce travel all the way back after getting your SOS text, his bar's score has increased. It seems over the winter break Ace managed to sort out his feelings, and from there he is always bickering with Deuce over little things regarding you.

Leona's bar never budges, mostly because he rarely gets caught up in romantic moments with you. But there have been a few rare happenings. You can never tell what goes through the lion prince's head. Sometimes you impress him, but then he says it's only because no herbivore can possibly be as gullible as you. Yet, oddly enough, there's fondness hidden behind the layers in his words. Once he pat you on the head, muttering some sort of compliment, and then he paused, lifted his hand, and looked at it so strangely. You tease him for it and he scoffs and tells you you're lucky his claws weren't out. Unlikely story, Leona. :) and as he walks away, you spot the meter filling ever so slightly.

Ruggie can't take anything you say or do at face value because he's certain you have some ulterior motive. So when you offer part of your lunch to him or offer to help him with running errands for Leona, he tries to turn you down. Just what is with you and being so good? He doesn't trust that. There must be some other reason you keep offering... But he finds that he doesn't hate your company and it's actually quite enjoyable to have someone to talk to when he's busy with errands. That, and you somehow keep up with his pace. Before he realizes, he's falling. Fast. And it's this sudden, whirlwind attachment that leaves you with a starstruck Ruggie, whose affection meter rises quickly.

Jack is difficult to romance in the beginning. Unlike some of the other characters who warm up to you rather quickly, Jack keeps his distance. Very much a classic lone wolf type. But once he gets to know you better and the two of you reach a level in which you can consider one another friends, he starts to fall for you. Jack is innocent in his affections. He looks out for you and is the first to defend you when anyone gives you trouble. He's teased for acting like a loyal puppy in love, which flusters him greatly, but Jack really does want to protect you and help you out. His romance meter increases in very small increments, but it's clear that he has quite the soft spot for you. He's one of the few characters with a mostly fluffy route.

Azul keeps his heart guarded, so naturally it’ll be a challenge to raise his romance meter. According to canon, he’s interested in you for two main reasons: you’re not from this world and he wants to use Ramshackle as a branch café. Throughout the happenings of book three, where you scheme against him to save your friends (Ace and Deuce’s bars rise because of your efforts) and the rest of the students from eternal servitude, Azul starts to harbor an interest. By the end of the book, when you have a heartfelt one-on-one chat with him in the Atlantica museum, he’s smitten. From then on, his bar is prone to rising and crashing just as fast. Being apart from you seems to have effects on the score, and he has a nasty jealousy streak.

Jade is another character who is difficult to read even with the romance meter. For the time that you know him, it never goes up or down, remaining somewhere between zero and five at most. He is very difficult to romance, namely because he seems to foil every cliché that comes your way. Forgot an umbrella? That's fine; he'll just cast a spell to protect you and him from the rain. Not enough money for lunch? That's unfortunate (for you). If you're truly desperate, you can make a deal with Azul. Bumped into him in the hall? Unlikely. He side-steps you just before you can collide, which leaves you falling face-first on the tile. You were ready to cross him out on your list solely because he feels like an impossible route, but one day you mention something about one of his interests and Jade perks up, his meter filling considerably. Like most of the cast, he wants you all to himself. But then he's also willing to make an exception and share you with Floyd.

Floyd's score starts at the very middle. Even when you meet him and he calls you Shrimpy for the first time, the meter has already filled. It's easy for Floyd to get attached, but it's dangerous because regardless of how high or low the meter is he's still quite obsessed with you. He shows up whenever he wants, sometimes at Ramshackle just to lounge around. His behavior is always sporadic; you get used to his unpredictability. When Floyd's in a bad mood, his score tends to diminish. It's not usually your fault; maybe Floyd saw you with some other students and got jealous. There are a variety of explanations, really. Most days, his meter is overfilled and so as a result he's more prone to picking fights to protect you or monopolizing your time by scaring others off. Like a leech, he clings to you.

Kalim feels like a love at first sight type! He thinks you're so darling the moment he meets you, and he's already wanting to spoil you. Despite his outgoing nature, his bar doesn't seem to rise much. Maybe it's just because he's so overly friendly with everyone that he's yet to see you in that way. But after more than enough romance moments between the both of you, he's wholeheartedly in love. He's the most obvious with his feelings and intentions, but then with the meters it becomes clear to you how everyone feels about you and where they currently stand on a scale. orz but Kalim is different in that he has no shame or embarrassment in approaching you outright to shower you in expensive gifts. He means well, but he doesn't realize just how much he's spoiling you. Although it is nice to be doted on to such an expensive degree.

Jamil is another character whose feelings are tough to read from the romance meter alone. It hardly rises; in fact, you think his score may be in the negatives. For the longest time you think he dislikes you solely because Kalim likes you and that makes his job harder when he has to prepare feast after feast for you. But after you tell Jamil to relax or offer your help or even explain that you don't need an entire feast, he starts to slowly, very slowly, warm up to you. You make the mistake of telling him he'll always be important to someone and that he should just do his best regardless of what others say—that he shouldn't have to diminish his capabilities or qualities just to let someone else overshadow him—and that's the arrow through his heart. Maybe you aren't as bad as he once thought...

Vil is a challenge. He has standards, and when you first meet him he compares you to an unwashed spud. It's clear that if you ever want to pursue a route with Vil you'll have to do something to catch his eye or earn his approval. The two of you likely grow somewhat close during the VDC and even more so during the happenings of book six. Outside of those main story events, you occasionally cross paths with Vil and sometimes you'll talk briefly. These interactions stick with Vil even after you've parted ways, and without even realizing it you occupy his thoughts. He's never had anything like this happen (at least, not when it comes to romantic interests), and if you're able to capture his attention so suddenly like this it must mean something. What that something is, whether love or otherwise, he will find out. And his romance meter will gradually rise as he does so. :)

Rook is a strange case. Everything he says sounds like it comes from an otome, but this sort of romantic flair is normal for the eccentric Rook Hunt. Though it's difficult to understand him and his real feelings, his romance meter is surprisingly honest and, unsurprisingly, just as shameless. It usually spikes when he's observing you from afar or if he's interacting with you in class. Rook is just so fascinated with you. You truly are curious, capturing so many hearts and seeming so unfazed. Just how do you do it? It's quite beautiful! He's already quite obsessive; if anything, the rise in his romance meter just makes him worse.

Epel thinks you're a godsend. You're the first person who didn't call him cute at first meeting! This automatically earns you points, and since he's also a first year like Ace and Deuce you'll likely hang out with him more often. The same applies to the other first years. Epel's interest in you stems from admiration. He genuinely thinks you're a really cool person, and the more time he spends with you, getting to know you and such, the more he falls. He's hoping to win your heart! Although with so many others also vying for your attention, it's a challenge he's determined to undertake.

Idia is difficult to romance only because he never leaves his room, so despite the lack of interaction he's been watching you from the very beginning. His romance meter is stubborn because he can't possibly fathom liking someone who isn't 2D, and yet here he is, salivating over you like you're a rare item in a game. ^^;;; Idia builds up his ideal version of you in his head, which is the only reason that meter rises at all. Of course he absolutely fails talking to you in person, for he's much too shy and anxious to approach you. You actually steal his heart when you smile at him while he talks to you through the text-to-speech program on his tablet. And then you say, "We can start small. Don't push yourself to do something you're not comfortable with." And omg he's going crazy. Who allowed you to say something so cool and so nice and so sweet?! >_< he's overheating because he's so shocked... orz

Malleus is a character who feels like the otome's endgame. He's charmed shortly after your first meeting. It's as if he was destined to fall for you with how quickly his romance meter fills. Despite his sweet and seemingly innocent affections, most of which are friendly because romance is very new to him, your romance moments with him only bring the two of you closer together. You spend a long time in the friend zone because Malleus mistakes every little gesture as something platonic or friendly. He's a little romantically dense at times, so you can never tell if his meter is filling because he likes you as a friend or something more than that. Don't be fooled, though. As sweet as he seems, Malleus is overwhelmed with the instinct to keep you close and forever his. Call it a dragon's nature to hoard or his own fear of being lonely again, but he can't let you go.

Lilia's romance bar remains relatively low because he's more like a spontaneous event. He pops up so randomly, so every encounter with him really does feel like fate. Lilia likely knows of you because you're the human Malleus has been spending time with, and he's so very fond of you. You'll just never know this because it's impossible to know what he thinks of you when he's so mysterious and vague in how he speaks sometimes. But you do have prior knowledge about Lilia (and all of the other characters from playing twst in your world) and so it's not so surprising to suddenly find yourself in an encounter with him. His romance meter usually rises when he sees or hears of how kind you've been to Malleus, Silver, and Sebek. You're just the sweetest. He adores you (too much).

Silver is the princely type! Your meeting is a typical otome cliché: he's sleeping and wakes up to you standing over him, and the sun shines down on you at just the right angle, which makes you look breathlessly angelic. And...he falls right back asleep, so you end up having to drag him to class so he won't be late. Perhaps that last part isn't very romantic, but Silver is quite touched by your kindness and also apologetic for causing you such trouble. To make it up to you, he wants to do a favor for you, only you insist he doesn't have to. He ends up sticking near you for the entire day until you finally give him something to do so he can repay your kindness. orz and afterwards, his romance meter has risen. <3

Sebek is another difficult route, mainly because of his devotion to Malleus and Lilia. He's very focused on becoming the best possible royal guard, and so it seems like he wants nothing to do with you. He makes it quite clear with how huffy he gets, always calling you "human" and not by your actual name. His romance meter never moves an inch up. If anything, it remains abysmally low. However, the more time you spend with Sebek, constantly correcting him with "It's (Name), not human!" and insisting you and Malleus are only friends when he accuses you of spending so much time with Malleus (which really only happens by chance, mostly), he begins to see new sides of you. Without realizing it, adoration blossoms amidst the many arguments he has with you.

#twisted chit chat #rendy-a #you think it can't possibly get worse when you meet the characters from other schools #but then you see they have romance meters too orz #brb going to noble bell to pursue the rollo route <3

[pieroulette]

𝐅𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧 𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥𝐬: 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 | Teaser One

2023 | 18+ | Series | ENHYPEN OT6 × READER | MASTERLIST

SUMMARY with the absolute order from the highest celestials, six high ranking angels were sent to capture and condemn you—an exceedingly sinful and overpowering succubus to the holy tower for eternity. Capturing you might not be so difficult with them outnumbering you, but the question is; would they be able to keep ignoring your irresistible charms while staying firm to their principles, abiding by the rules, and reciting their prayers forever?

GENRE angels and demons au, romance, reverse harem, angst, fluff, smut

WORD COUNT 1.7k

"Aaah~ aren't you a pretty little dumb thing?" You sang a song as you approached the cowering human, pressing your heels on his back which caused him to whimper in downright fear.

Your eyes fell upon an unconscious lady against the wall, her lips hanging apart with bubbles dripping from the corners of her lips. And then at the half unzipped pants of the middle-aged men beneath your heel.

What a cute sight, you thought. You only came to the red district to have some little fun with your favourite humans, to feed on their energy and so on. Your eyebrow raises at the thought of meddling with the humans committing sins, you shouldn't have to stop the man from forcing the lady against her will, yeah? The amount of pitch dark energies it would give you would be tremendously high and sufficient for your cultivation as a succubus, so why did you even bother?

At the back of your mind, a tiny voice called out in a moderate volume among any others. Maybe you could save her just for today, she ain't that strong enough to survive but maybe you could let her live one more day free of pain.

"Hm, why, why. Aren't you a big brave baby boy, why don't you show me how hungry you are?" Your finger swayed in a circular motion, casting a dark crimson spell within the man's orb which turn him into madness; his nails grew longer and sharp, screeching against the wet ground. His back arching to the point his lower spine grew out.

Your eyes mesmerised by your creation, you hushed the monster inside the club. "Go ahead, and have your feast."

Pitch darkness engulfed the sky, the city bustling with all sorts of noises and the road heavy with passing vehicles, crowds roaming around the street and alleys.

Walking down the street with your succubus' aura oozing too much with the hot crimson dress hugging your figure had all eyes regardless of gender thirsting over you, even though you didn't try that hard. You smirked at that, you never fail to make them fall for you anyways; asking you for a date that you very well know what it leads to, you politely declined them as your appetite has gone to the drain for no reason.

Pushing the glass door opened, the chill air inside the shop enveloped your bare arms—blending with the red dust particles around your body, replacing the crimson dress hugging you hips into a plain blue shirt with a full covered cardigan and a black skirt.

"(Name)! What are you doing so late outside, don't you have no idea how dangerous it is?!" The old lady with the round glasses on top of her nose, smacked your shoulders with a long sigh.

"Gosh, aunt. Nothing to worry about, I took the cab."

"Still! That's no excuse, didn't you hear that a pervert is roaming around the neighbourhood and a few female students have gone missing?!"

You shook your head in amusement, letting her rant on and on. Oblivious she was to your real identity, as you had kept it as a secret for a couple of years already, moulding your human skin to that of a simple human girl. You tied up your hair to a messy bun, putting your apron on as you went to your daily routine.

Arranging the costumes.

This place belongs to the aunt who had scolded you a moment ago, it's a shop that stood upon the business of embroidering all sorts of costumes or cosplays. It stood firm before the busy street, customers spilling in and out from the entrance every single day as soon as the sun rises. You surely weren't the only worker here, as there are other three that weren't currently present. None of them knew your real form.

It has been nearly a thousand years after you've been banished from heaven, looking back to the night sky—you snickered at memory flashing through your mind; of your fragile form weeping on the heaven's holy entrance. Not that it's important anymore, but surely it's chaos above there isn't? A lot more chaos, you wish rather than pray, for what is there use to pray when the gods above loathed your very existence.

You loathe them too, tremendously even, for what did have they done but threw you out? They didn’t even bother to hear any words from your lips, only sealing it with their powers that you’ve come to hated so much.

The bell rang slightly, unnoticed by you since you were in your thoughts, and your hands weaving the threads altogether. A couple of light taps on the counter had your attention, turning your head to the customer. “Oh- welcome to-”

A bright, prince charming of an image stood before you, taking your breath away instantly as you stuttered along each word you uttered. “What can I help you with, sir?” suppressing the inner smirk threatening to raise the corners of your lips, he sure is damn dashing as hell enough for you to feed on later.

“Um, hi.” He paused, his eyes looking away every couple of seconds. You obviously can see how struck he was at you, by your charms and so on. You wish you could grab a popcorn as you watch his eyelashes fluttering and the roses dusted on his cheeks. “I-ah, cosplay? I had a halloween party this weekend, so I would like to have some customised angel costumes for me and my friends.”

Angel. How cute. He wants to cosplay as an angel? You snickered at that particular word, sure he does look dashing enough to resemble an angel but you sure hope that he atleast doesn’t possess the filthy traits that one particular god had.

“Sure, is there anything you would like to add on your costumes?”

You guided him through the boxes filled with dozens varieties of materials, and you watched him as he took his time in each one of them with the notes flipped open on your hand and a pen on your other, you didn’t need it all, to be honest. Names, words, places and every word you heard are fully ingrained in your mind, never to be forgotten once uttered. That’s why, you had so much trouble with the downside of this ability despite the wonders of it. But the veil of deception you lifted upon you are to be carefully and meticulously tweaked to utter perfection, what is there to complain anyways?

You caught him stealing a few glances at you, a bit amused at his childish actions—you approached him as you wore the seductive smile on your lips. “Is there anything you want help with, sir?” Oh, how bad you want to take him right now. But darkness hasn’t enveloped the sky, and it would be inappropriate to the owner of this shop. Huh? You held the need to laugh at the word, “inappropriate” as if there's anything “appropriate” left in you though?

“See, I’m only asking this since.. Never mind.” he voiced out.

“Go ahead, sir. There’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”

“Would you like to be my partner to the party?”

Sure, why not? You happily agreed to his request without any hesitation, what is there hit around the bush for nothing? That ain’t your style; first come, first serve—the golden rules remain the same no matter how many a thousand years had passed.

Yet..

"M-mister, I haven't done nothing, have I? P-please don't hurt me! I'm only a weak girl! There's nothing I could have done to anger you, did I?!" Your arm accidentally slid on the edge of the table, causing you to drop to your knees. Letting out a yelp in the process, your eyes begun tearing up. Lips trembling, you shook your head. "Who are you two?!"

The bustling noises of Halloween party oddly turn into a piercing silence of nothing, all the sounds of life had flee away from the space and only you remain. An ability that you recognise from someone in particular, someone that belongs to a particular kind of creature.

"Quit your act, we know who you are." Sunghoon approached you, the man who is supposedly your customer that asked you to be his partner a week ago. "Lady Succubus, isn't?"

An excruciating silence engulfed a couple of seconds after he uttered those words.

"Ugh, what a bummer. Let me act for a little awhile, yeah?" Your weeping face was replaced with amusement, a low disinterested tone enveloping your voice as you wiped off the tears from the corners of your eyes, getting up on your feet you did as you lazily look at their way. "Angels? It's been awhile since I saw one. I thought they had given up on tying me down. But.." pausing in getting a better look at the two.

They remained silent, not uttering anything yet highly alerted at your presence which has you a tad bit annoyed but after awhile—curiosity arises inside you which had you wondered how many did the angels did the gods sent to you this time? What kind of rules do they had amongst each other or who had the upper hand or who was the weakest?

"—didn't know the gods had such adorable baby angels with them?" You shrugged. "Couldn't they send a much bigger one with muscles or something.. but I'm not complaining."

“B-baby angels?!” Sunoo scoffed in return, “Please, for your information, we’re almost a thousand year old.”

“A thousand years?” Tapping your tongue inside your cheek, you winked at them. "Dom, or sub?"

Taken aback at your bold flirty gesture, Sunoo shook his head along with Sunghoon, tilting his head downwards in attempts to cover the light blush on his cheeks, whispering. "Ugh, she's so-"

‘Why are you even blushing?! Take control of yourself, you’re a high ranking angel!’

‘I know, I know!’ Sunoo screamed telepathically at Jay who interrupted him.

"We're here to capture you, I believe there's nothing to say anymore." said Sunghoon.

"Aw, baby boys like you are gonna do what? Capture me? Might as well tie me down with some rope or something?"

“That’s what we intended to do, actually.” Sunghoon lifted his index finger, taking one last look at Sunoo. "Bound her to the holy tower."

A neon blue light engraved in the speed of light on the ground, patterns of whom you recognised forms into chains and flew out from the ground before your very eyes, entangling your wrist and your neck in a thick metal collar which tightens almost immediately at your resistance.

"Tsk, this is not the rope I was asking for though. But how cute, you think this could do anything to me?" you snapped your thumb against your index finger, particles of crimson dust emerging from the tips—forming into a giant dust creatures that flew around their form, the horrendous long fingers of those creatures tightened around their neck which causes their spell to lose it’s activation on your form.

Something flashes across your line of vision, before you could react—a man in a white shirt and pants, black slicked hair and a tall frame hovering yours—raises his hand up the air, slapping your right cheek that it caused your line of vision pointing towards the ground.

Wiping the blood on the corner of your lip, you scoffed as your eyes fell on the man, seemingly unfazed. "You hit like a bitch, try harder."

Your words alone had his eyebrows twitching in utter annoyance, “I could hit you harder, brat. Sluts like you–”

“Oh, I didn’t know the recent generations of angels got such a feisty tongue. And how so? I’d prefer it... in another way tho.” Your words dusted off cherry hues on the boy's fair cheeks. "Aw, are you blushing?"

“Blushing for a slut like you? The goddesses above are more worthy than you who use such words in order to gain the favour of men.”

"Taking such tremendous pride in your status as an angel, what an awful thing to do."

"Unlike you, who are ungrateful. Drenching yourself in filth despite being given the opportunity by the gods to cultivate yourself to the highest rank of angels, that's what I call an idiot would only do." Jay raised his eyebrow.

You licked your tongues against your fangs, amusement laced in your voice. "A feisty angel indeed, what kind of training did they put you on to be this harsh? Why don't you come to me and see that I can do better?"

"You're nothing but filth, I would never lay my hand on you. Look at yourself."

"Ouch, am I supposed to get offended?" You raised your eyebrow at the boy whose piercing gaze never ceases. "Try harder."

"Quit reasoning with her, Jay." Jungwon appeared behind him, placing his palms on Jay's back. "She's a powerful succubus, remember. Stick with the mission."

"Fine." never breaking his glare at your soul, “No one’s going to save you anyways.”

Forming their hands into patterns were ultimately interrupted with a smoke emerging right before their eyes, your silhouette appearing out of it causing Jay's eyes to widened and his lips hanging apart by the close proximity between you and him; your nose almost brushing against his.

"Cinderella's dead, everybody." You muttered with a bored look on your face, clapping your palms together as you gaze deep into his soul. “Bold of you to assume that she’s still alive.”

「 © talesofyuan on tumblr 2023 」 all rights reserved. do not copy or post without permission.

TAGLIST: @xxvyjoy , @0102luvr

#enha #enhypen #enhypen x reader #enha imagines #enha x reader #enhypen oneshots #enhypen scenarios #enha fanfic #enhypen x female reader #enhypen smut #enha smut

[youreallyshouldtalkmore]

Dark Imagination_ Part 2

A.N: Did I really just come up with a 10-part Genshin Impact Reverse Harem Vampire Husbando AU? Yep! But, I had to stop the count of husbandos somewhere, so I’m keeping it simple:

Zhongli, Alhaitham and Neuvillette are officially my top three husbandos, in that order.  So they will have the honor of being the main vampire coven we are following in this story. 

Genshin Impact MasterList

-------------------

It had been three days since you had arrived to this world. Although the sun rose and set like your world, you found yourself sleeping in and rising late to stay up into the night. It was hard for you to stay up all night, and none of them pushed it. Secretly, they were happy that you hadn't actively run away from them. 

Well, you thought about it. 

But what was that saying, better to deal with the devil here than whatever devil might await you out there? 

But you realized quickly that none of them attempted to harm you. Neuvillette and Zhongli went out of their way to chat with you, hoping that it would put you at ease. You barely saw or exchanged words with Alhaitham. Or rather, he made no move to speak to you any more than the day you came to this world. 

Such an evening found you, blowing your cup of tea in the tearoom, allowing the silence to be your companion. You were used to silence, after all. You turned the page in the book you found from their library. Once they gave you a tour, and you discovered it, you had been hooked. 

“Did you find something to your liking, once again, my dear?” 

You looked up to see Zhongli walking quietly into the kitchen.  

It was weird, none of them walked with audible footsteps, but they did have reflections in the mirror. Alhaitham had only snorted at this, “I’ve read what humans make vampires out to be. Yes, we have reflections, no garlic and crosses aren’t harmful to us. The only true thing is that we don’t like the sun, but we can manage that if we aren’t mortally wounded. And a vampire can be killed by destroying his heart.” 

It was nice to know that the legends of vampires were largely the same in both worlds, even though reality was different here.

“What are you reading now?” Zhongli asked with a small smile, as he took a seat next to you and began to pour his own cup of tea. 

“I kind of got capture after page one.” said by way of excuse to the story you were reading as you held the page with one finger and flipped to the cover of the book. 

Zhongli chuckled, picking up the cup and blowing on it, “If it pleases you.” 

You ducked your head at his words before peeking up at him. You had always loved tea and was astounded of the different types of tea that were available here. Many you were certain didn’t exist in your world. 

And you had no idea why, but watching Zhongli make and drink tea was like watching art. Even the simple act of him enjoying tea, captured your gaze. Over the last few days, you had spent time with Zhongli as he made his tea. One of which took six hours!! But you found you quite enjoyed the time spent with him. 

You looked back at your teacup before taking a sip. Then you went to pick up the teapot to pour yourself another when a gloved hand, folded over yours. You looked up with eyes wide. 

“Allow me…” 

You pulled your hand back, allowing Zhongli to pick up the teapot to pour you another cup. 

Not one drop splashed. 

You swallowed as your head dipped once again. A soft touch on your cheek, had you looking back up. His knuckles lightly touched your cheek as he frowned, “Did you get enough to eat today?” 

“Yeah, there was enough.” you murmured.

“That’s good. Then you are well?” 

You nodded, “Just fine.” 

You saw Zhongli’s amber eyes flash once as his touch ghosted down your cheek to your neck. You shivered as it went further, trailing down your arm, until he lightly grasped your wrist.  You should have pulled back, but for some reason you didn’t, quite enraptured by this new development. He gently pulled your wrist towards him, as his amber eyes glanced down at it. Then his thumb was gently running over your pulse. 

What would you have done if you knew he could hear your pulse the moment he entered the door? At that moment, you didn’t know that all three of them could hear the ebb and flow of your heartbeat even as they went to ground. Even as they sleep, the blood in your veins was their lullaby. It had never been as loud or as clear as now, since you were pulled into their world. You didn’t know that all three had planned to make you want for nothing, to entice you to stay in their world of your own freewill. 

Would they even let you go back? 

This was not something that any of them were willing to face right now. 

You gazed up at Zhongli, as his lips parted, allowing you to see the fangs that poked from them. 

Somewhere in you, you were aware you should stop this. What kind of storybook did you get dropped into? Did you even want to continue this dark story? Exactly what awaited at the end? 

Then Zhongli’s lips ghosted over your pulse making your heart skip a beat until his tongue darted out, swirling over the pulse of your wrist, once. Twice. 

Your breath hitched and your heart stuttered. 

“Zhongli….” 

You snapped your head up and snatched your wrist back to find Neuvillette standing in front of you, two across from the table. You were thankful for the interruption as you blinked. What would have happened if Neuvillette hadn’t come? You scanned around and sure enough, Alhaitham sat, in the furthest chair with his gaze in a book. His gaze briefly shot to you before moving back to his book. If you hadn’t been looking, you would have missed it. 

“Xiao, escort your Lord to get himself together.” Neuvillette commanded. 

Xiao appeared in the room and bowed, “Yes, sir.” 

Zhongli seemed to snapped to himself and looked apologetic, “F-f-forgive me…” 

Neuvillette interrupted, “Save it for later. Just get out now.” 

Zhongli snapped his gaze up to Neuvillette and bared his fangs, “Who do you think you are talking to?” 

You froze, ducking your head into your teacup that you had gripped. 

Neuvillette only gazed down at him, unimpressed. 

Xiao intervened, “My lord Rex Lapis, please. Think of your Blood Mistress. We needn't frighten her. That is all Monsieur Neuvillette meant.” 

That seemed to calm him down and Zhongli stood with a sigh, “Yes, you are…correct.”

Without a backwards glance to you, Zhongli exited, followed by Xiao. 

Neuvillette finally turned his gaze to you, “Are you alright, Miss. Y/N?” 

“Ahh, I’m fine.” 

Alhaitham flipped a page, “Your heart rate is through the roof. Breathe…” 

“You have nothing to fear. Forgive me for not arriving earlier.” Neuvillette sketched a bow, “And I’ll apologize for Rex Lapis. He is ancient and has been without his Blood Mistress for a long time now. Even longer than Alhaitham or I. He usually has rigorous discipline to be admired, but now that you are here, his control is taut. I do not say this as an excuse for him, merely to explain. But even I admit you are quite a temptation. Ah, perhaps it would be wise for me to keep this quiet right now, lest I cause you to misunderstand. Oh, dear, am I rambling?”  

You looked taken aback by his words, even as Alhaitham snorted, but Neuvillette lavender eyes continued to rest on you as he added, “...But even still, he as we all should exercise caution. Again, I make our apologizes.” 

You shook your head, with a small smile, “It’s fine. I understand.” 

“Thank you for your grace.” 

Part 3

#genshin impact #genshin impact fanfiction #genshin impact fanfic #zhongli #zhongli x reader #neuvillette #neuvillette x reader #alhaitham #alhaitham x reader #vampires

[raccoon-eyed-rebel]

Part 20

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Part 19 🟣 Part 21

A reverse harem vampire AU ft. Mikey, Marshall, August and Sherlock

Series summary: Somehow, you've managed to live with your boyfriend and his roommates for months before finding out they're vampires, but the real shock first comes when they find out you have a special quality. A quality the guys would love to make use of...

Warnings: SMUT, NSFW, 18+, MINORS DNI. P-in-v sex, fingering, angst, ongoing vampire shenanigans, more blood than we're used to... Mentions of a knife kink. Paranormal voyeurism... (I swear, regular tags and warnings just don't feel sufficient for this :') )

Word count: 4.7k (It's a long one)

A/N: Loving kisses, a successful date, a bitch, a good friend, a messy bite... I'd call this fluffy if it wasn't so... smutty.

@geralts-yenn @deandoesthingstome @summersong69 @ellethespaceunicorn @mis-lil-red @sillyrabbit81 @livisss @itsrubberbisquit @ktficworld @proud-aroace-beastie

“Mikey?” You threw the door open — and you should have known better. Your heart threatened to beat its way out of your chest at the sight before you. It was really just Mike, on his bed, phone in one hand, dick in the other. The scenario left very little to the imagination with regard to what he was doing…

Then you blinked, and all the evidence of what you’d run into vanished.

“Swe—” He stopped talking — again — and you felt your heart being crushed under the weight of that unfinished word. And this time you weren’t having any of it.

In a few steps, you closed the distance between you and the edge of the bed, where a disappointingly fully dressed Mike was sitting. “Sat it,” you said, putting your hands on either side of his face after hauling him to his feet. “Call me ‘Sweetcheeks’. Wrap your arms around me, hold me, look me right in the eye and say it.”

Despite your explicit and pressing demand, you were surprised when his arms snaked around your waist and he cleared his throat. “Sweetcheeks, I’ve been an idiot.”

“Yeah, well… what else is new?” you chuckled, and your heart jumped for joy when he joined you. Then, you looked at him: “We’re going out. Tonight. Dinner and a movie.”

“We can get burgers and head off to see Saw?” Of course he suggested a horror movie!

“You know I can’t sleep after watching scary movies, Mike,” you whispered.

“I know you can’t sleep alone,” he corrected you — and he was right. “I’ll protect you… Sweetcheeks.”

“Cool, it’s a date,” you said before giggling like a schoolgirl. At least the sound made Mike smile even wider. That was good, right?

“Dinner tonight, princess? I’m making chicken fried rice.” August pressed his lips to yours before you could answer.

“Sounds fantastic, August, but I’m going out. Mike and I are going on a date.” You tried to fight the smile off your face, but you just couldn’t manage.

August wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close, peppering kisses along your jaw before dipping his head down to reach your neck. “You’re happy, princess. I like it when you are happy.”

“Even when you’re not the one making me happy?” Why? Why did you ask that?

“I do make you happy,” August said matter-of-factly. “In fact, I make you very happy.” He lifted you onto the kitchen counter, standing between your legs, which you wrapped around his waist.

In the middle of your passionate kiss, Sherlock stumbled into the kitchen.

“Good morning you two,” he said, his indifference to the scene in front of him evident in his voice.

You pushed against August’s shoulders so he would let you go, and hopped off the counter, stalking towards Sherlock in a few big, angry steps. It surprised you that he wrapped you in his arms and kissed you — quite firmly, and inappropriately for a communal area of the house. It also surprised you that he was quite cold to the touch.

“I heard you have a date with Mike tonight?” he asked with a kind smile. “A wonderful idea. May I request some time to feed before you leave?”

“Only of you don’t ask me so formally,” you snorted. “I love you, of course you can eat. You’re not filing a tax form!”

“Well, then,” he said, his smile growing more mischievous, “would my beautiful love accompany me to bed, please?”

Your heart almost jumped out of your chest when you heard him say those words, before realizing that you always retreated to his bedroom to feed. It had just become a thing you usually did in private. Not for anyone’s sake, but simply to take full advantage of the calming sensation you felt, and to really give yourself some alone time with your guys. This time would be no different. No different at all.

“Please, make yourself comfortable, darling,” he said kindly when you stepped into the room. “I will get you some tea, and… August?” Sherlock turned around before the door opened and indeed showed August, standing outside, holding a cup of tea in one hand and a glass of water in the other. He sighed, while Sherlock chuckled. “Thank you very much.”

August grumbled something unintelligible while rolling his eyes before turning on his heel and disappearing, leaving you and Sherlock to it.

You took the glass of water and drank it quickly, not because you hoped to get this over with as quickly as possible, but because you wanted to crawl into Sherlock’s arms as soon as you could.

You waited a few minutes, just laying on his bed, curled up in his embrace with your head resting on his chest, while gathering your thoughts as well as your courage. Then, you kissed him. It surprised you that he was so greedy in his reciprocation, to the point where he quickly took the lead in your little bout of passion, pinning you to the mattress, the weight of his body comfortably crushing your soul back into your body. Sometimes that was just necessary.

What did bother you, however, was the fact that he seemed to be having no physical reaction to your kiss whatsoever. Why the hell not?

His lips traveled from your mouth to your jaw, and eventually to your neck, where you felt his fangs scrape over your skin.

Of your four partners, Sherlock had the gentlest bite, and he took the most time when feeding — save for Mike when he had access to his preferred location. You’d once asked him why, and he had answered that throughout the years, he’d had to feed quickly for such a long time, that he refused to now that he no longer had to.

“Thank you, darling,” he said quietly when he was done making sure your wounds would heal.

“Why do you always say that?” You’d never asked him that before, you realized, even though you couldn’t remember any time he hadn’t said it.

“You let me bite you. You voluntarily allow me to wound you so that I may feed on your blood. Darling, if that is not something I should be thankful for…”

You sealed your mouth over his to stop him from talking, and when you retreated, he smiled. A tingly feeling ran all the way through your body as you looked deep into his eyes, and you opened your mouth to speak. To your surprise, Sherlock put his hand over your mouth, a serious look in his eyes. His pupils were dilated, you noticed. Strange…

“Whatever you say next, I will have to obey. Please choose your words with great care,” he said, his voice strained, as if he had great trouble speaking.

“Thank you for explaining,” you said hesitantly after Sherlock’s hand had disappeared. “Can we get to the snuggling part of the event, please?” You needed to feel his arms around you once again.

“Of course,” he spoke slowly, “your wish is quite literally my command.”

“Can you tell me what’s going on?” you asked when he was curled up around you, pulling you close. “I thought we’d made it past the excessive caregiving aftermath of the feeding?”

“We have. You hypnotized me,” he chuckled. “It will wear off.”

You turned around in his arms and looked at him. “I didn’t mean to do that,” you said. It was strange; you felt guilty about it in a way you had never felt guilty about gaining access to Mike’s gift, or August’s. You had grown to thoroughly enjoy Marshall’s…

“It’s because I have a choice. There is no passive side to this gift, other than that I have been told I can be excessively charismatic,” he said as though he could read your thoughts. He couldn’t, which meant they had to be displayed clearly on your face. “You get to share in their experience, and they are glad to let you do that. I, on the other hand…”

“You don’t like the gift?” you asked carefully, sending this was not a topic he enjoyed discussing.

“I abhor it. That time I used it on you haunts me, still. And you were right to admonish me over it. If I had seen any other option, please trust that I would have gone that route. I am terribly sorry.”

“But you use it for good,” you suggested in a feeble attempt to ease the pain in his eyes.

“There is nothing good about taking away consent and free will,” he sighed. “Although the interrogations do require a consent form, so I suppose… It still makes me quite uncomfortable at times.”

“Sherlock, please be honest with me,” you said pensively.

“I feel the need to remind you that I have no other choice, darling.”

“Is it okay, when this happens, if I ask you to tell me you love me?”

“Certainly,” he replied, a hint of amusement to his voice.

“Then tell me you love me,” you commanded as you rolled on top of him, straddling his hips.

“With all my heart, my darling,” he answered before pulling you down into a searing kiss.

“Omg, hey Mike!” Rose walked towards you, closely followed by Jenelle. “What are you two doing here?”

“Movie date,” Mike said with a big smile. Dinner had been awesome, and standing here with him, his arm wrapped around your shoulders, felt like an absolute dream. “What about you two?”

“J got stood up by her date,” Rose explained, “so I came to the rescue!”

“She was hot as hell, too,” Jenelle sighed. “Here.”

Mike let out a low whistle when he saw the photo on her phone screen. “Goddamn. Too bad Tits McGee clearly doesn’t have a brain.” He pulled Jenelle in for a hug. “You are way too pretty to be treated this way. Wait, I can say that, right, Sweetcheeks?” He turned too you, and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“Yes, Mike, because you’d be right.” You weren’t going to be offended by Mike thinking J was pretty. She was, end of.

“Will you guys sit with us?” The movie had been out for a while, and there were only a handful of people in the lobby. Assigned seats, schmassigned seats.

“And listen to you guys making out all through the movie? No tha—ow! The fuck?” J had caught an elbow to the ribs from Rose, which didn’t go unnoticed by Mike. Mostly because J wasn’t exactly quiet about it, but still. Mike put two and two together unusually quickly.

“Alright, Sweetcheeks, how much do they know?” he asked, feigning annoyance.

“Just that you guys are working through something, nothing more.” J and Rose looked innocent. Or rather; they tried to. And failed.

“Everything, Mike,” you sighed. “They’re my best friends, and they know everything.”

“That’s okay, it’s all my fault anyway. We’re starting to… heal, I suppose.” It was sweet to hear Mike say it that way — and he was right, of course. “We haven’t kissed yet, though. So I wouldn’t worry about the making out part.” Even the oversharing was adorable, dammit…

He was right though; you spent the whole time staring at the screen — except when you snuggled into Mike’s side as well as you could (stupid chairs…) when things got scary. You did hold hands all the way through the film, though, which was really nice. You hadn’t really realized how much you’d missed his touch, even though he was fairly cold…

“Well that was horrible,” J said when you walked out of the theatre a few hours later.

“Are you kidding me?” Mike clearly disagreed. “That was great! Blood, gore, Jigsaw. And I got to hold my pretty girl again.”

“Oh, yeah, no, def,” Jenelle agreed with him. “Fabulous date movie. Horrible third-and-fourth-wheel-movie though. Rose?”

“Agreed, and can I just say that—”

“Out of my way.” A shoulder hit you from behind, sending you tumbling into Mike’s chest. “Right. Go snuggle with your bloodsucker, you vampire skank.”

“Bloodsuckers, plural, right?” You didn’t even know the girl who asked.

“Yeah, bitch has a whole harem. They snack on her.” Katie raised an eyebrow at you and smirked in a way that would put mean queen Regina George herself to shame.

“Oh my god, she’s literally a blood whore?” Again; who was that girl even?

“Listen, you might want to step the fuck off, you insufferable, miserable, narrow-minded, hillbilly cunt.” And she’d better listen, because Jenelle was about five seconds away from losing her shit.

“Fine. You’re not the kind of person I want to be seen with, anyway. You’ll get what you deserve,” she said as she turned around. “Just you wait.”

“She said what?” Now August was five seconds away from losing his shit, and even though Jenelle’s impressive five-eleven frame could be intimidating — especially considering she was taller than Mike if you added her afro to her height, which she always did.

“Jenelle dealt with it,” you said quickly, chuckling at the memory of the imposing law student using some impressive adjectives you couldn’t have come up with in a million years to put Katie in her place. It had been by far the most eloquent opprobrium you had ever heard in your entire life. No, you hadn’t known that word before you left for your date.

“She is an amazing friend,” Mike said. He was right. You could always count on her to stick up for you. Rose, too, but confrontation generally scared her. Jenelle grew up with four brothers, so…

“I wonder what Katie meant when she said I’d get what I deserve…” you pondered.

“You know we’d never let her get to you, right?” Marshall said before giving you a kiss on your forehead.

You nodded. “Yeah,” you said. “Mikey… Can we just go to sleep, please?”

It was strange to get into bed with him again, after weeks of practically avoiding each other, and it was no surprise that it took the two of you some time to figure out how you fit together at least somewhat comfortably — especially since Mike required some access to your neck. He hadn’t asked to feed, but you knew better.

“Go on,” you said, baring your neck to him when you’d finally settled in.

He looked at you, his face contorted into a strange grimace that told you he was uncomfortable with something…

“Are you sure, Sweetcheeks? I mean… I told you I’d go back to—” Without thinking, you kissed him. Hard — and so incredibly passionately that when you broke away, you were gasping for air.

“I’d rather die than have you feed off some…” Nope, that was not a nice thing to say about someone just doing their job. Try again. “You belong with me, Mikey. And…”

You fucking hypocrite. You’d made such a circus of making him call you ‘Sweetcheeks’ again, but there was something you hadn’t been able to tell him for weeks, too. It wasn’t just him. And it was time for you to bite the bullet.

“I love you, Mike,” you whispered, trailing your fingers over the side of his face. “And I’m incredibly glad we’re finding each other again. You can feel what I desire. If it’s anything other than you sinking your teeth into me…”

“Oh, there’s something else,” he mused. “But we’ll save that for later. I’m guessing no boobies?”

“Eh…” You considered it for a moment. “Let’s park that, for now? My neck is fine, though. But no more nonconsensual vampire marriages, Mike.” He didn’t need the warning — he was an idiot, not a jerk — but you couldn’t help yourself.

He had to flip you both over to be able to get to the side Sherlock hadn’t punctured that afternoon — seriously, sometimes you felt a little… used. You loved it, of course, but still.

Mike inhaled deeply, dragging the tip of his nose over your neck as he did, and sighed. “You smell so fucking good.”

For some reason, his words make your cheeks heat up.

“I thought I was going to go insane when Sherlock got to you this afternoon, I—”

Why did you feel the need to interrupt his confession — which no doubt was about to turn steamy soon — with your insecurities? “Could you tell what he desired?” The first rule for a peaceful life was still ‘don’t ask questions you don’t want to know the answer to’, right?

“He wanted to be close to you, and he wanted to feed,” Mike said simply. Was that all? “Have you considered talking to him, Sweetcheeks?”

Okay, fine! Now that everyone in the house had pointed out that that was what you should do… maybe you should give it a go.

“Now, where was I?” Mike’s soft lips trailed over your skin, sometimes placing soft kisses that made you whine softly. “You’re so warm, you taste so sweet. Especially like this. All worked up and hot for me…”

“Mike, we shouldn’t…” And why the hell not? You were so innately attracted to this guy that it bordered on completely ridiculous, and he already knew you were dying to feel him again. On top of you. Behind you. Inside you.

“I can hear your heart beat faster for me,” he growled, his lips moving gently against the skin of your neck, “I can feel the blood rushing to your cheeks — and your pussy. Your body and mind are screaming for me, Sweetcheeks. Make no mistake, I’m screaming right back…” He ground his hips into you to prove it, and chuckled. His fingers tentatively dipped beneath the waistband of your pajama pants.

Your permission was silent, your response was not. Mike wasted no time slipping his hand into your panties and seeking out your clit, making you gasp.

You came so quickly you barely registered it.

“Fucking dripping…” Mike growled before nipping at your earlobe. “All for me, Sweetcheeks?”

You nodded, but it wasn’t enough. “Yes.” Still wasn’t enough for him. “Fuck… yes, baby, all for you.” You’d pay good money to have that smug grin wiped off his face.

He dipped his fingers into you with ease — he hadn’t exactly been lying when he pointed out you were soaked — and pulled his hand back, which surprised you. Then, he wrapped his hand around his cock, biting his lip as the slow, lazy strokes forced moans from his throat. You just looked at him — mostly with fascination, but also a bit of confusion.

“What? This is as close as I can get to feeling you directly on my skin,” he muttered. He was adorably out of breath.

“I’ve considered getting an IUD, but putting them in apparently hurts like a bitch and—”

“So take August.” Mike shrugged, not minding the interruption in your moment at all — and also still stroking himself, which you found both oddly amusing and very in-character.

“What?” you said, thinking you had some idea of what he was getting at, but wanting to verify it nonetheless.

“Take August,” he repeated, slightly louder than before, “I’m sure he won’t mind playing walking painkiller if it means he gets to fuck you raw.”

“Deal!” you heard from the other room, and you couldn’t help but laugh. Soon, the door opened. “Seriously, I didn’t quite catch what you were talking about but I’m game.”

“You help her deal with the pain of getting an IUD, we get to ditch condoms, everyone wins,” Mike summarized. “Now fuck off, I’m trying to get laid.”

“You’re way past trying,” you chuckled. “Goodbye, August.”

“Awh, you’re not going to let me watch?” he teased. Alright, semi-teased. You knew for a fact he’d love to watch.

Next to you, Mike grinned, meaning he’d caught the surge of desire that had flooded you for a moment as soon as the words had tumbled from August’s gorgeous lips. Not that there was any way they hadn’t heard your breath hitch or caught any of the other specs of evidence that the idea excited you more than it probably should.

“Best I can do is let you listen in,” Mike decided before gesturing at him to get out. August gave you a questioning look, and you nodded, another rush of heat washing over you as you thought about what this meant.

‘Treat her right’ were his parting words to Mike before he made his way, presumably to his own room.

“Mmh, you always do,” you hummed contently as Mike finally left his cock alone and focused on you again. He smiled as he plunged his fingers back into you, finding the right spot almost instantly. It was a cute smile; eyes twinkling, fangs out… you watched him with wide eyes as he bit down on his lip, piercing the skin.

“Oh,” he chuckled at his own mistake.

The little bead of blood formed slowly, and you watched it happen, until it got too big to be contained and rolled toward the outside of his lip. You rarely acted on an impulse so immediately — and you were fairly sure you’d never acted so impulsively that it even took Mike by surprise — but there was no fighting this urge to pull Mike closer and… you didn’t quite kiss him. That would have been one thing, but this was something else entirely. You licked the blood off his lip. And you didn’t stop there, no. You sucked his lip into your mouth while Mike let out a very loud moan. A suspiciously loud moan.

“You did not just...” There really was no need to finish that question. Mike was probably embarrassed enough as it…

“Yeah, I totally did, Sweetcheeks,” he said, grinning at you like he’d gone insane. “That hadn’t happened in at least three decades, babe. Fuck that was hot. Kinky. All that good stuff. Did you… was it… just… any good?”

“I’m mostly still in shock over what just happened.” And the fact that it had made Mike jizz in his pants.

“I kinda do want to run this by Sherlock,” he said to your surprise, “I mean… developing a sudden taste for the good stuff could mean you’re transitioning. It's not technically possible, because I know we’ve all been very diligent and responsible about our garlic, but it doesn’t hurt to have it checked out.”

“She’s not,” you heard from the other side of the door as footsteps — Sherlock’s footsteps — passed by the room and disappeared further into the hallway. “I would have noticed!”

“Settled?” Mike asked. You laughed in response. There was something incredibly funny about August’s earlier intrusion and this one by Sherlock, and the way it didn’t even ruin the mood.

“Settled. Just a… I’m going to call it an impulse, for now. I’m not sure if it’s a kink thing.” Your cheeks felt like they were on fire, and they weren’t the only part of you that felt that way.

“God I hope it is!” Mike sighed as he snuggled up against you.

“What, so you can ruin another pair of pants?”

“Hey, fuck you!” He pouted at you, but you could see the grin lurking beneath.

“We were getting there, I believe.” You cocked an eyebrow and then Mike had finally had enough. For a second, he withdrew, pulling his t-shirt over his head, and then he pounced on you.

Your pajamas did not survive the carnage, and neither did his. He was hard, and you couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Didn’t I tell you? Significantly reduced cool down time,” Marshall sounded in your head, making you laugh even louder. Mike looked at you, not asking the question he clearly wanted to.

“Marshall,” you clarified, before yelling at the man to butt the fuck out.

Mike managed to rip four condom wrappers open so enthusiastically that he ruined their contents as well, at which point you finally pointed at the intact, unwrapped, latex nuisance you were already holding. He didn’t hold still while you rolled it onto his cock, and he sure as hell didn’t wait so much as a second to drag your ass onto his thighs.

He pushed into you at the same time he bit you, and you squealed. Rough and eager Mikey was fun. He had been from the beginning of your relationship, and he was now, and he would be in the future — that endless future you suddenly had with him again. He crouched over you, using one hand to grasp your hip, the other to pin your wrists to the bed while he drank from your neck, impatient and greedy and messy.

He fucked into you with something almost resembling a tender kind of rage, caring enough to avoid hurting you, but rough enough to bring you to the edge with just his cock — not something he was usually good at, you had to admit.

He came up before he finished, his lips red from your blood, which trickled down his chin. For the first time ever, you saw your monster in those bright blue eyes. And you loved him even more. The final few brutal thrusts were accompanied by low growls and swearing, and you stared at his face intently, noting the mellowing of his gaze after he opened his eyes again. Watching Mike’s ‘coming’-face was incredible. It was a very raw, honest moment — and for a significant amount of bonus points: it looked absolutely ridiculous —and it was beautiful. Intimate. Connected to you in indescribable ways.

“Wow. Okay, ehm… babe I made a fucking mess, alright? Didn’t mean to do that. Very sorry. We gotta get cleaned up…” Of course, he beat you to the bathroom.

In the hallway, you ran into Marshall, and there was no way you’d ever be able to convince even a single hair on your head that this was somehow a coincidence. He had to have heard.

“I did,” he said, his voice hoarse and his words punctuated by quick, shallow breaths he drew in as he looked at you. “I tried to stay in my room, but…” He raked his eyes over your naked form over and over again, committing whatever it was that he saw to memory before abruptly turning around and disappearing into his bedroom.

In the bathroom, you got your first good look at what Mike had meant. He had made a mess. Which, in this case, meant that your neck looked like someone had ripped your throat out, your shoulder was covered in blood, and it slowly trickled down, over your chest, between your breasts… in your mind, you heard Marshall again.

‘I want to watch you bleed.’

Well… you wanted him to watch you bleed as well.

“Fair warning,” Mike said as he wrapped his arms around you from behind and he glanced at you in the mirror. “He likes to play with knives. It won’t scar as long as you don’t need stitches and he can… treat the wounds the way we usually do.” He grabbed a washcloth and began to clean you up as he explained.

“How do you even know?” you said, your eyes wide with some mix of terror and fascination.

“We told you we met somewhere in the late eighties, right? He met me because I hung out with a group of goths,” he said, and some shards of that conversation came flooding back to you. Something about Marshall screwing around with Mike’s ex… “There was a lot of mixing chemicals to dye hair, and piercing your own eyebrows with sewing needles. That kind of stuff.”

“And they went nuts for the whole vampire thing,” you said, remembering the conversation a little better now.

“Yeah,” Mike said. There was something suspiciously apologetic to his voice. “I did, too. I mean. I was human back then. Okay, long story short; Marshall had this friend, Serafine — probably not her real name, but who cares? — and we used to… hook up.”

“You did what we do,” you said. It wasn’t a question, and the guilty look on his face told you more than you needed to know. This happened in the late eighties. Three decades ago. You didn’t even know him. You weren’t even born! “I’m irrationally pissed about this, Mike.”

“Yeah, I can see that,” he said. “But, ehm… why?”

“Because, Mike,” you said, slowly walking towards him, apparently scaring him enough that he backed up until he was standing against the wall. “You’re fucking mine.”

#mike hellraiser fic #mike hellraiser #mike (hellraiser) #hellraiser mike #mike hellraiser fanfiction #henrycavill fanfic #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill #henry cavill characters #walter marshall #hc sherlock #henry cavill sherlock holmes #sherlock holmes #august walker #august walker fanfiction #natural fic #naturalfic #mike hellraiser smut

[gglitch1dd]

Consorts and Royalty

You're the Emperor and its time for you to choose your Omegan Consorts. Four Omegas seem to have caught your eye.

This is a reverse Harem AU with Alpha reader and Omega consorts. Taken out from my One-Shot book and has its own book now.

Word count: 5k

Includes: Omega Kirishima, Bakugou, Todoroki and Midoriya.

Note: Reader is genderneutral. The term Emperor is used but its gender neutral too. Alpha Reader.

The great hall of the royal palace was filled with wonderous talk and laughter. Nobles and other dignitaries all mingled amongst themselves into the night. Among these nobles was a man who, unlike his comrades, would have rather been anywhere else.

He was beautiful and held an element of poise to him. His head held high in a feeling of superiority that he always carried with him. His ash blond hair shone brightly in the candlelit area and contrasted the long black silk robe he wore to appease his sire’s wishes. Made to look pampered and attractive. A fattened cow to the slaughter. The make up he wore that accentuated his blood red eyes would distract one from the clear scowl on his face.

“My, my, my, Duke Bakugou… you look remarkable tonight.”

The blond turned around to meet eyes of candle apples. Red enough but having a sort of magenta hue to them. Walking to stand in front of him, carrying two champagne flute glasses was a redhead taller than himself, but not by much. Maybe just an inch or two but definitely broader. The redheaded man wore a cape on his shoulders with a tight corset black suit. He handed over a glass, a smile on his lips.

Bakugou scoffed. “Please, Eijiro, do not flatter me.” The blond looked away as he frowned.  “You know the old hag forced me into this.”

Kirishima chuckled at the mannerism of his best friend. Never surprised or shocked but still happy nonetheless to know he hasn’t changed. “I am surprised you managed to lose your sire at such a momentous occasion.”

“Momentous? Tch.” Bakugou scowl deepened. He took a sip from his glass. “It is just the start of the season overshowed by a rumour.”

“An important rumour.”

“Important to who?”

“Our country.” Bakugou shook his head as he looked away. Kirishima looked around the hall easily. He was one of the taller Omegas there so he could see rather well. “To think… a few of us might be chosen by the Emperor themself to be part of her Royal Consorts. The Tides of the Empire.”  Kirishima looked with a soft hopeful gleam in his eyes.

Bakugou looked up at his best friend. He looked him up and down almost in disgust. He turned himself around. “Don’t fucking speak to me again.” He started walking away.

Kirishima laughed at the blond’s reaction. “Aww, come on Katsuki. No need to always be the one discarding the idea of finding a mate.” Kirishima easily caught up with Bakugou, finding his natural place next to him. The two of them slowly and easily made their way through the crowd of people. “If you don’t want the Emperor, I’m sure you can find some Alpha here that tickles your fancy.”

“Like who?”

“Well…” Kirishima looked around as he was suddenly needing names. “Ah! What about some of our old playmates, like Lord Ojiro?” He asked as he pointed out the other blond male a few meters away from them, far enough to not hear their conversation.

Bakugou scrunched up his face. “I would rather drown myself in a chamber pot.”

“Baron Sato?”

“I would never settle for an Alpha with bigger lips than me.”

“My cousin, Tetsutetsu.”

“Too much like you but not quite, plus he likes spinach too much.”

Kirishima shook his head, not surprised but still in defeat to Bakugou’s standards. He took a sip of the bubbling champagne in his glass. “Well then who? Who here would you remotely be fine settling down with?” He asked trying to find a hint to what Bakugou defined as acceptable.

Bakugou looked left and right. No one here remotely piqued his interest. He had too high standards for Alphas he had grown up around, knowing too much about them already to want them no matter what his biology told him. He hummed as his head slowly settled on the redhead in front of him. He raised his flute glass. “The only person that remotely lives up to my expectations here is you.”

 Kirishima choked on his drink. He covered his nose and mouth with one hand as he stared down at his best friend with wide eyes. He closed his eyes and chuckled. It wasn’t something they exactly never talked about, not something they never fantasised about but life wasn’t that simple.

Kirishima shook his head and didn’t say anything. Bakugou took a step forward, his frown turning up into a slight smile. “Come on, Eijiro. We can run away from this. Me and you. No one would be the wiser until it’s too late.”

“Except your sire,” Kirishima pointed out with a pointed look making Bakugou release a small growl at the mention of her. “Leading Duchess Mitsuki Bakugou and my sire, Leading Marchioness Tekea, would have us rung by our necks when they find out.”

“If.”

“When.” Kirishima said adamantly. Bakugou looked up at him. He didn’t say anything but his eyes said enough to the redhead. Kirishima released a heavy breath. He wished they weren’t in public right now and he wasn’t wearing the black and red lace collar around his neck like every Omega had to wear. If they could slip away he would comfort Bakugou but right now they would have to make do. “Katsuki I-”

“There you two are. I thought I heard the complaining of Kacchan come from this way.” Walking towards the pair were two other omegas. Walking with a soft amused smile on his face over to them was a green haired gentleman in a velvet green waistcoat and a white button up. He nodded his head over to the now aggressive looking blond. “Kacchan.”

“Deku.”

“Prince Todoroki.” Kirishima chirped out in excitement.

“Marquess Kirishima.” The prince greeted back with a soft smile at the excitement Kirishima had towards him. He stood at Midoriya’s side. He bowed his head, his hands joined under his long sleeves of his own long luxurious robes. His hair down with some of his locks, in an intricate lace of red and white, were in a bun on his head.

“Kirishima-kun,” Midoriya started with a genuine smile to the redhead. “are we still on for training later next week?” The heir of the All Might Lands asked, his hands joined behind him.

Kirishima’s eyes widened as he remembered of his arrangement with Midoriya. He nodded his head excitedly as he joined his hands together. “Yes, without a doubt.”

Bakugou looked between Midoriya and Kirishima very confused. He knew the two of them were good friends from when they were younger but he didn’t know the two of them interacted whenever he was not around. He felt clueless and Bakugou hated feeling clueless.

Before he could say anything Todoroki made his way to stand in front of Bakugou. He was around the same height as Kirishima so just about two inches taller than the blond. “Lord Bakugou, we’re both wearing similar outfits. I knew we were best friends.”

Bakugou turned to Todoroki annoyed. “We are nothing of the sort.” He glared.

“Mine’s just white and red and yours is black. How lovely.”

“Shut up, IcyHot.”

“We’re always in sync.”

Before Bakugou could loose his top, trumpets blew catching everyone’s attention. Next to the big doors by a grand staircase stood Iida Tenya. He stood up straight, hair slicked back in a dark blue suit that matched his hair. He cleared his throat as the ballroom quieted down. His head was high as he got ready to do one of his many duties. “Announcing the illustrious Emperor of Kairium, The Great Current of the Empire, Emperor Y/N.” 

The doors opened and you stepped forward, your head high as your crown sat on your head safely. You looked over the sea of people, some from your own empire, others from neighbouring to distant lands. The congregation bowed at your presence. You smiled as you descended the steps, Iida following dutifully behind you. Once you made your way to the bottom you raised your hand. “Greetings, to all here tonight and welcome to the start of the season.” You addressed everyone as they all clapped. “Tonight, marks the start of our beloved season but it also marks a season not only for all Alphas here but also for me.” You nodded your head as you motioned to yourself. “Yes, the rumours are true that I am to choose my Omega consorts this season, and by the end of this season we will have our Tides of the Empire.” You announced.

There was excited chatter amongst everyone at that. Kirishima gave Bakugou a pointed look as he stood beside the blond. “Did I not tell you, Katsuki.” He whispered. Bakugou’s eyebrows furrowed as he kept looking forward. He was speechless. His mother would no doubt push him towards you and he could already tell what was to be of his fate if otherwise.

You smiled and placed your hands together. You raised a single hand and everyone went quiet. “Now, to every Omega and Beta here, I wish you all the most wonderful season. Follow your hearts and your spirits, it will lead you to the right choice. To the Alphas here…” You scoffed, a hint of competitiveness syncing in. “Let the best Alphas win.” The Alpha part of the audience obviously laughed finding it amusing. You finished your words and made your way with your head held high over to a throne set up for you. “Tenya…” You spoke hushed as you made your way over to your seat. “How many Omegas do I have to meet?” You asked as you moved up the four steps to the platform your throne was on to the left of the room.

Iida moved behind you dutifully. An arm in front of him. “All of them, your majesty.”

You furrowed your eyebrows slightly. “All of them?” You asked, your voice higher pitched.

He nodded his head. You held back a frown as you took your place on your throne to the left of the room. You sat up straight, your legs crossed one over the other. You could feel eyes on you like normal. It wasn’t something you weren’t used to as emperor. You looked over to Iida, you lifted your hand up to tell him he could start with the introductions.

Then the long process of being introduced to every single Omega here started. As Emperor you had to give your blessing to each of them for the coming season. You had to learn each one of their names, their portraits, their rankings. You felt overcome with them, but here you were flawlessly greeting each of them and each of them hoping to be given a title for this season.

Those that caught the eye of the emperor at events would be given a title for the season. Obtaining a title was almost a guaranteed position as a royal consort. No one knew how to obtain one though, even the most perfect of Omegas might not achieve one. It was all up to the Emperor. Which could be said true of your dam, the First Royal Consort, her title was The Butterfly of the Season. She could dance and glide through the air as graceful as a butterfly. It was magical whenever she would entertain at events, leaving people gaping and breathless.

Gaining a title from the Emperor was all any one wanted. All but Katsuki Bakugou.

“I want to go home.”

“Oh shush!” Mitsuki quickly scolded her only child as they stood together getting ready to be summoned as the next to be summoned to be presented before the Emperor. She lifted Bakugou’s head up higher. “Don’t slouch.” She pinched his cheeks making him hiss. “Get that awful scowl off your face. You have to be the image of perfection.” She folded her arms as she stood to his right. “Isn’t that right Masaru?” She asked her mate who stood next to their son.

Masaru looked to the two blonds. Bakugou was still scowling, clearly not wanting to be part of any of this. Masaru gave his pup a kind smile. He placed his hands on his son’s cheeks. He looked him once over. He placed a soft kiss on Bakugou’s cheek. “You look amazing, Katsuki. Just be yourself.” He advised. This made Bakugou instantly ease up at his dam’s words.

“No, do anything but that.” Mitsuki told him as she shook her head. “If you want to woo the Emperor, you have to be esteemed.” Bakugou’s eased state left as quick as it came. He glared at his sire with fire in his eyes. Masaru sighed in dismay, seeing that his effects of calming his son was flown out the window. The two began to bicker amongst themselves.

Next in the que to be introduced to the emperor were the Todorokis. Todoroki stood next to his older brother, Natsuo. Natsuo had his head up as he stood dutifully next to his younger brother. Natsuo looked over to Todoroki. Even though the youngest son of the Todoroki empire was quiet in nature and stoic as always, Natsuo could see that he was nervous. It was the smallest of things. How his breathing picked up and how his fingers, moved under his long sleeves.

Natsuo chuckled. “Don’t worry, Shoto. You are the image of perfection, you do not need to fear.” He told his brother. Todoroki looked over to Natsuo unsure but he nodded his head. Natsuo could see he wasn’t entirely convinced. Natsuo moved a strand of hair out of Todoroki’s face to be behind his ear. He smiled. “I’m being serious Shoto. This doesn’t define you. Just do what you always do.”

Iida Tenya stood at your side as the group in front of you went back to enjoying the evening. “Next we have the Royal family of the Todoroki Empire.”

Natsuo faced forward. “Show time.” He whispered. He stepped forward with Todoroki at his side to stand in front of you. Natsuo himself wasn’t there to say anything but was just a chaperone to his younger brother.

Todoroki looked up at you. His eyes widened ever so slightly at being faced with you face to face. You sat with such an eased posture yet there was an aura of confidence to you and how you held yourself. Todoroki bowed his head, his hands together in front of him covered by his long sleeves. The two long strands framing his face ever so delicately opposed each other, red and white. “Your majesty.” He greeted.

You smiled down at him. The image of grace and effortlessness. The Todorokis were an advantageous partner to have. Not one that you or your Empire desperately needed but it would be nice to have them on your side. Yet you weren’t one to choose a partner based off of how advantageous they were. You were interested in this silent prince that seemed chackled to his position. “Prince Shoto Todoroki of the Todoroki Empire.” You nodded your head to another royal. “I am glad that you were able to join us for our season. I hope you have been enjoying your time in my Empire.”

Todoroki had his head down in submission to your rank as Empire. His posture and poise the image of perfection and was clearly the envy of this season from the gazes he was receiving. Some from Omegas and their dams and sires in envy and annoyance, others in admiration and some from Alphas in want and interest. He caused attention in his own silent cold way. “My time here has been more than pleasant, your majesty. Thank you for your hospitality.” He answered without fault nor flaw.

That had you even more intrigued. You wanted to see a side to him that wasn’t flawless, that wasn’t sculpted to perfection. You wondered whether you could bring that side out of him. You would have to keep Todoroki around to see. “Good. Do you have any hopes for this season?” You asked.

Todoroki looked up at you, his heterochromic eyes meeting yours for a fraction of a second. An iron grey and a chilling blue. He looked at you through his lashes before returning his gaze lower away from your eyes. “Only the best, your majesty.” You noticed the smallest of smirks on his lips.

You adjusted your seating now that you got a glint of that hidden side to him. You scoffed silently as you looked down at him intrigued. Todoroki’s shoulders “I strongly agree with that answer, Prince Shoto.” dropped slightly in relief of now having your interest. You brought your hands together. “I hope you enjoy this evening and you have a blessed season.” You concluded.

“Thank you, your majesty.” He thanked you with another bow. He stood up straight. He followed Natsuo who took him away from you, his head facing forward.

You looked to Iida to introduce the next one. “Next we have the Marques of our Empire, the Kirishimas.”

You turned your gaze back forward. In front of you were the infamous Generals of your armies. The Kirishima family was known for their strength and their skills on the battlefield. They were the most loyal family you had ever had the pleasure of meeting and were known for their presence of being beasts among men.

Standing in front of you was a member of your court, Marchioness Tekea Kirishima with her mate Marchioness Yua Kirishima. The two of them were chaperoning their son, who was in front of them. Eijiro Kirishima. He had the broadness of a Kirishima, not as tall as his Alpha sire but still held a strong presence to him. Not a conventional Omega and that is what made you interest.

He bowed at the waist one arm bent in front of him. He looked up at you with candle apple eyes that were red but had a sweet pink hue to them. His wide big eyes made delicate with the way his perfect lashes swept every time he blinked. “Good evening, your majesty.” Kirishima bowed before  you, a soft smile on his face. It seemed like a smile that belonged there, genuine and eased.

You smiled back at the sincerity to him. He clearly held everything on his sleeve before him. “Evening, Marquess Eijiro Kirishima, son of Leading Marchioness Takea Kirishima.”  You greeted him back. You decided to tease him a bit. “I hope you have enough grace of that of your swordsmanship.”

Kirishima chuckled, his eyes still down casted. He knew what you were on about. Being a Kirishima, he grew up more on brute force and having to be strong. His family taking pride in their abilities in combat, no matter the second gender. Often that put him at a bit of a disadvantage than the other Omegas that were overcome with growing up to be dainty and delicate. He was always a bit to muscular or overall big. But he grew up lake any other noble Omega having to learn etiquette, dancing and how to hold out your pinkie at a certain angle.

Kirishima was a hard worker, a dedicated learner and never let anything stop him. “You flatter me, your majesty.” He said with a slight chuckle to his voice. “However, I believe that everything has an element of grace to it, from dancing to sword fighting. You need not worry about me, your majesty.”

You laughed lightly at his response. Kirishima immediately looked up at you once he heard your laughter. It was a rare commodity to him. One that was real and one that he caused. “Worry about a Kirishima? Have more faith in me and your house, Marquess.” You shook your head, but had a broad smile on your face. “Your house has never once disappointed the crown nor those that have sat on it. My family and pack is eternally grateful for the efforts that your house has put towards the throne.” You looked over to a beaming Takea Kirishima. You nodded your head towards him in recognition. Takea and Yua both bowed towards you at the compliment.

“Thank you, your majesty.” Kirishima spoke full of pride in his name. “Your favour is highly appreciated.”

“As you can see Marquess Eijiro, I could not have more faith in your house. I have faith in you.” You smiled down at him. “That I am certain.” You sent him a small wink. His eyes widened slightly and his face burned with heat as he flushed. He looked away from you making you chuckle. Omegas were too cute to tease. “I hope you enjoy this evening, and you have a blessed season.” You sent them off.

“Thank you, your majesty.” He thanked you, standing up to his full height.

You hummed almost silently as you watched them leave. You wanted to keep him around as well. You found him cute.

“The heir to the throne of the All Might Lands.”

You turned your attention back in front of you. Another cute one. Standing in front of you was a curly green haired man. He had big green eyes that were as green as grass and looked just as fresh. He bowed before you at your presence, willingly and knowingly. He seemed to also wear his heart and his sleeve. He had a soft smile on his face. “Greetings to the Great Ocean, Emperor Y/N.”

You smiled as you leaned to the side slightly. To have an heir to the throne of a neighbouring land address you as such with such a deep bow, you felt a surge of confidence in that. “You praise me, Prince Izuku. I hope you have been finding my lands and gardens to your satisfaction.”

Midoriya kept his head down and nodded. “Your lands, especially the royal gardens, are beautiful, your majesty.”

You chuckled. You motioned to him. “They must be nothing compared to your lands.” You told him.

The All Mighty Kingdom was known for their field of open flowers and fresh greenery. They had such fertile lands and soil that grew the best produce. Not to mention it was as if being part of nature itself being there. They were beautiful fresh and green as far as they eye could see. It was more of a farming kingdom, very peaceful and often abstained from any political conflicts unless necessary.

Midoriya was titled air to the throne as he saved his village from raging monsters from the north. He was titled the People’s Prince for always giving back to his community and spending more time with them than anywhere else. When King All Might asked to meet the young Omega, he instantly grew fond of him (and his mother). Thus after King All Might got married to the now Queen Inko, Midoriya was given title of heir as King All Might had not sired any pups during his long reign.

Midoriya shook his head. “Your majesty, thank you, but if I may…” He looked up to you, meeting your gaze for just a moment, asking for permission. You raised your head with a brief nod granting it. He released a small breath. He stood up straight and took a step forward. His hands together. “I believe it is the arrangement of the flowers that truly make it beautiful. Nature’s unique arrangement of a flower field, in its disorder with rare pattern or reason, holds a uniqueness to it. So with your gardens,” He motioned with one hand. “The arrangements of every bush of roses or grown tree is mesmerizing.”

You were glad about his answer. You looked down at your lap. “My dam organized the arrangements. She handles everything to do with the gardens.” You turned your head to the side, quiet for a moment. You had a thought. “Prince Izuku.”

The Omega perked up at his name and title. He straightened his posture and turned all his attention to you. “Yes, your majesty?”

“I would like to have you work on an arrangement for the upcoming picnic soon.” You turned your sights back on him. “If what you say is true, I want you to impress me.” You fiddled with one of the many rings on your fingers.

His eyes glinted in hope of the challenge. Being given a task by you, the emperor to prove himself was a great an honourable thing. He smiled and nodded his head excitedly. You chuckled at the action finding it cute. “Yes, your majesty. I won’t let you down.” He bowed.

“I doubt you will.” You expressed. “Enjoy your evening, Prince Izuku and I hope you have a blessed season.”

“Thank you, your majesty.”

You watched him leave too. The heir to the AllMighty lands. You wondered if going after him would be a good idea. He seemed sweet, cute and determined but at the same time if you obtained the lands through him it would heighten your empires worth but make you a target as well. You would have to be very careful on who you chose. Sometimes the choice your heart wants isn’t what your empire needed.

“The Dukes of our Empire, the Bakugous.” Iida announced taking you out of your thoughts.

You turned your head forward and then you saw the Omega you had often heard the name of at court. Behind him stood his parents, chaperoning. Mitsuki and Masaru Bakugou. Mitsuki, a member of court, and a force to be reckoned with. If her son was just like her as they all said, he would be a tough one to crack.

Bakugou looked up at you on your throne. Nothing passive or unyielding about him. He was a challenge. You liked challenges. His red eyes burned into yours like that of pure melting lava and his flawless skin seemed almost that made of actual porcelain. He was enviously attractive and yet held an expression as if you had knowingly kicked his dog. He bowed in front of you, head down, but you felt it was more customary for him than he was doing so willingly.

You hummed as you tilted your head to the side. “Duke Katsuki Bakugou.” You looked him over in intrigue. “How are you?”

Bakugou felt revolted by such a question. How was he? He would feel better if he wasn’t trapped in such extravagant clothing meant to make him look like a prized bird. He kept his face without emotion. “Well, your majesty.”

You could tell he wasn’t giving you a full honest answer. An answer to please you and a general one to make it so that he wasn’t lying. Yet you wanted a real answer from him. “I hope you are enjoying the night?” Bakugou  hesitated to answer. There. You sat up at that, ever so slightly. The answer you wanted to hear. If you pushed a bit you might get it. This whole evening up until Todoroki most of the answers were given to you just to please you or to make them look good. You wanted a true unfiltered answer. If you were going to pick Omegas as your consorts you wanted to truly know them. “Speak your mind.” You granted him allowance.

Bakugou frowned and the moment Mitsuki noticed that she felt doomed. She withheld a deep sigh knowing her son was going to throw all this effort away. Bakugou straightened up slightly. “I feel like a cow to the slaughter.” He expressed plainly to you.

You raised an eyebrow in intrigue. The onlookers watching, watched with wide eyes and pursed lips. There was one thing about Bakugou, it was that he was not afraid to speak his mind. Whether that was a good or bad thing, no one knew. You chuckled. “You feel pampered?” You asked him. “On display?”

He thought about the words you used. “Treated like a prized courtesan in your court more likely.” He was comparing to the way people watched courtesans with hungry eyes and with want to how he felt now. All the season was about to him were Alphas sporting for the most beneficial and best Omega as part of their household and to produce pups. He didn’t want an Alpha who thought of that before thinking of who he was.

You raised an eyebrow. “You assume I treat my courtesans in such a way?”

Bakugou shrugged. “How else would you treat them?”

“I assure you, not how you feel.

“If the knot fits, your majesty.”

The statement went flying out of his mouth before he could stop himself. Bakugou quickly clamped his mouth shut with wide eyes as he realized what he had just said. To you. The emperor. Masaru’s eyebrows shot up in surprise and Mitsuki was seething with rage as she turned to her son. Bakugou covered his mouth with his hands. Kirishima bit down on his bottom lip in fear for what was to come. Everyone was dead silent around you as tension built.

Bakugou never felt such a rush of fear go through his body. His mother always told him his loose tongue would get him into trouble and here he was. Bakugou opened his mouth to apologise. “Your Majesty, I-”

The sound of laughing was heard. Everyone turned their attention to you. You had your head in your hands concealing giggles to yourself, but not longer than a second later did you drop them and look up with a loud laugh. You placed a hand to your chest as you turned to Iida. “Tenya! Did you hear that? Ha!” You chuckled loudly as you turned to look at the dark-haired Alpha next to you. “That was such a witty response, I’ve never thought of it. ‘If the knot fits’. How original.” You laughed. Iida visibly dropped his shoulders, glad you took it as something funny than get offended over it. He let out a soft chuckle. You turned your attention back to the ash blond. You looked at him for a while as your laughing died down. You looked down at Bakugou with a smirk and piercing eyes. The blond felt like he was being observed under a microscope. He flushed and looked down in embarrassment. “I am amused.” You announced. “You amuse me, Duke Katsuki.”

You stood up from your throne catching most of the attention of the evening. You walked to the side of your throne to wear a giant shell was facing upwards towards the ceiling. You placed your hand in the water that filled it and retrieved a beautiful orange shell with white hues to it. You looked at the clip once more, you nodded your head satisfied. You walked over to Bakugou, descending down the 3 steps that put your throne above everyone else. You stood before him and placed the clip by his hair line.

The blond was frozen in his place, extremely confused and thoughtless as to what you were doing. When you were satisfied you looked at it in his hair. A bit out of place but pretty enough to look like an accessory. You turned back up the stairs. Once you reached the top again you turned back to everyone. “Katsuki Bakugou, the Spitfire of the Season.” You announced the first title given this season. The soft gasps and chatter of the announcement soon filled the hall. You looked back down to the blushing blond who stared up at you with wide confused red eyes. “Save me your first dance.” You told him as you turned to sit back in your chair.

“Th… thank you, your majesty.” Bakugou bowed at your presence before walking to join Kirishima, Todoroki and Midoriya silently. He drifted away from his parents towards them. Bakugou looked like he was shaking slightly, eyes wider than they had been and his breathing uneven.

“Katsuki.” Kirishima expressed, staying close to the blond. “You’re shaking.” He whispered as he took the blond’s hands in his own. Kirishima kept his hands over Bakugou’s to try and still him and give him comfort.

“You gave us quiet the scare, Duke Bakugou.” Todoroki expressed hushed as well. They didn’t want to seem rude but they wanted to check in on their friend.

Bakugou felt frozen like he could barely move. Midoriya took place on the other side of Bakugou. “Congratulations Kacchan.” Midoriya praised with half a genuine smile and half a smirk of amusement. “You got a title.”

Bakugou shakily turned his head back to look at you. You were addressing the next Omega after him, a smile on your face like always. Yet even though you seemed focused on the Omega in front of you, it seemed as if your attention was also on their little huddle together. Bakugou turned his head back, his skin pale and his body not cooperating.

“Fuck.” He whispered.

-Glitch1d

Hey Yall. Sorry I've beem MIA on here, but hey, for those of you who haven't seen this on AO3, here it is. The whole fic is linked down below. This was Katsuki's chapter, each boy gets one. I am currently working on the Second chapter to Arranged from the KiriBaku Omegaverse week so don't worry.

#omega bakugou #mha x y/n #bakugou x reader #kirishima x reader #eijiro x reader #bakugou katuski x reader #bnha omegaverse #Omega Kirishima #Omega Midoriya #Omega Todoroki #Omega Bakugou Katsuki #alpha reader #gn reader #omegaverse #alpha!reader #a/b/o #izuku x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #todoroki shouto x reader #omega kirishima x reader #omega bakugou x alpha reader #bnha #omega midoriya x reader #bratty bakugou #bottom bakugou #bottom kirishima #bottom behavior #mha

[platinumrosetail]

So I’m planning on making two different record of ragnarok books.

One for Buddha x female!reader and the other one a reverse harem.

I only have the Buddha x reader idea so I’ll be putting done some of my ideas for the various one but first I would like to show y’all the Buddha x reader fanfic idea!

The idea is: the reader was the wife to guatama siddhartha otherwise known as Buddha in the future. After her husband left she didn’t really have anything to do in that world so she took her son and left back to her world; the world full of magic almost ever turn you look if you’re able to see the rukh that flows in that world. After the battle with the medium she and her son were summoned and meet with two Valkyrie sisters; brunhilde, and göll. The reader joined in the fight to save humanity even if the humans are from another world.

The reader will be the sibling to Solomon and daughter to David from magi (such a underrated series that needs more seasons 😭)

Now onto the ror male various x F&M!reader ideas!

1: x Pokémon!reader (arceus, Pokémon trainer, or mew) (arceus and mew might have connections with some of the characters as in relation to those specific characters)

2: x genshin impact!reader

3: x atla/lok!reader

4: x one punch man!reader

5: x seven deadly sins!reader

6: x fairy tail!reader (going to need to watch from where I left off from). Vote: 1

7: x naruto!reader

8: x jjk!reader

9: x mha!reader

10: x venom!reader

11: x herobrine!reader

12: x Ben 10!reader

13: x magi!reader (different one from the idea above)

14: x scarlet witch!reader

There were others but I would need to start watching them so I had to leave them out because I have either not watched it entirely or still on the first few episodes though I might add them once I further down the episodes/season if I can (I procrastinate like a lot 😅)

Ways to vote is by commenting, though you can also message me if you want to do that way

So the one with the most vote will be the one I’ll make for the male various fanfic. 😁

Hope y’all have a wonderful day/evening/night!!

#anime #anime x reader #various x reader #x reader stories #crossover #anime crossover #yandere x reader #record of ragnarok #reader insert #female reader #reverse harem #record of ragnarok x reader #magi x reader

[hannie-dul-set]

STAR STUDDED BAGGAGE [2].

SYNOPSIS. the saying “never meet your idols” exists for a reason. you just didn’t expect the reason to be because said idols would end up declaring that you’re their alleged lover from a past life (past lives, rather). now you have three big celebrities vying for your attention, and it’s not as dreamlike as you imagined it to be.

PAIRINGS. choi yeonjun, choi soobin, choi beomgyu x female! reader. GENRES. reincarnation! au, celebrity! au (soloist! yeonjun, actor! soobin, rock band member! beomgyu), slight college! au, slight historical! au, rom-com, angst if you squint, reverse harem woohoo. WARNINGS. swearing, multiple instances where personal space is invaded HAHAHHA, the boys are very dramatic please understand their yearning hearts. WORD COUNT. 4.5k.

NOTE. woohoo! next chapter to this shitshow! some parts may be a bit confusing and vague....sometimes ominous....but all will be known in due time HAHAHHA (may be tempted to give a spoiler or two if u ask). hope you enjoy! please let me know what you think of this chapter and the story so far!

MASTERLIST | NEXT >

CHAPTER 2 — these meet-cutes aren’t cute at all.

YOU DON’T KNOW HOW TO READ LIPS. But you don’t need to know how to get the idea that Taehyun is shooting an insult at you right now. His face says it all. “I said you look like hell,” he repeats after you’ve removed your headphones, the music still leaking out even after you’ve settled it down the cemented table. 

“Taehyun’s right,” Gaeul pipes in, and Woohyun seconds it. “You look like crap. What did you do last night?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” you grunt, melting into the table. The sound of Yeong-Il’s Second Life is still just barely playing in the background thanks to your loud as fuck headphones volume. “We finished our exams. Of course I stayed up until six in the morning watching dramas.”

Three disappointed stares and one of full respect. “Dude, you’re crazy,” says Huening. “What did you watch? Night Has Come? My Demon? You should’ve invited me. I feel betrayed.”

“Both,” you reply, but you don’t seem all too happy after consuming over twenty episodes worth of dopamine. You’re frowning. You slam a fist down the table and let out a groan. “But they don’t fill the Choi Soobin shaped hole in my heart— fuck! Why isn’t he getting employed? Why hasn’t he been posting on his Insta? It’s been six months since his last drama. I miss him already.”

Huening’s attempts to console you consist of a few pats on your back. Gaeul’s attempt is a lot more effective. “Didn’t you win a slot to Choi Yeonjun’s fansign this weekend? Aren’t you coming?” You spring up with a gasp. “Girl, don’t tell me you forgot.”

“I did! I fucking forgot because I have a deadline on the same fucking day, fuck! I want to die. I can’t do this anymore.”

“Are you still going?” asks Woohyun.

“Of course she is! Deadlines come ten times a week, but the chance to meet Choi Yeonjin comes one in a million!” Gaeul exclaims, then grabs you by the shoulders with a very serious look on her face, as if she wasn’t just disappointed that you sacrificed sleep just to watch a bunch of dramas. “Tell him I’m in love with him. No, wait, I need to tell him that in person. Tell him to wait for me. I’ll get in next time for sure.”

You whine out something that sounds like an agreement. “I haven’t prepared an outfit yet. This is so depressing. Gaeul, help me.”

Taehyun, who doesn’t share any of your unhealthy fixations, still hasn’t crawled out from his state of disappointed concern. “Just make sure you don’t miss your Saturday deadline,” he says. You roll your eyes in response.

“This is me you’re talking to. I may not seem like it, but I have my shit together. You don’t have to worry.”

They hate to admit it, but it’s true.

Your friends have always wondered how you managed to balance your hellish course load, your evening shifts at The Grind, and your hobby of fangirling over pretty and good looking men. The only reason you were able to binge two dramas until daylight is because you’ve finished all your midterm requirements before taking your exams, and you’ll definitely be able to attend the fansign because you’ll somehow finish a thirty-page paper in one day, in between classes and your work shifts.

They’re quite convinced you’re insane. The lifeless look in your eyes as you flit through your flashcards to review for a recitation later is a testament to that insanity.

But sometimes, a little spark of life manages to slip through.

Like right now, as you check a notification in your phone in the middle of reviewing.

“Shit, fuck, shit— oh my god. Yeong-Il dropped an interview, fuck, hold on—”

“Whoa, really?’ Woohyun digs his nose next to you. You guys have a graded recitation in thirty minutes, and you’re walking to the classroom with a blank face zeroed in at your phone screen in landscape instead of the flashcards you have now tossed away into your bag, paying no mind to your surroundings to the point that Gael and Huening have to make sure you’re still walking in the right direction.

Taehyun isn’t sure whether to be impressed or concerned. They can’t even tell you off because they know you’ll somehow find the answers to Prof Yang’s questions anyway.

APPARENTLY, THERE’S A CAR ACCIDENT OUT FRONT. On top of having a tiring day of rehearsals and the interview with Beomgyu exposing his delusions on the internet being dropped earlier (they didn’t edit it out, those rats), Yeong-Il isn’t having a good day, so it’s to no one’s surprise the the tension inside their van on the way back to their dorms is rather palpable.

Beomgyu, however, doesn’t feel said tension. Or maybe he just doesn’t care because he’s closing his eyes, ready to nap while all the rest of the vehicles surrounding theirs are honking their horns, and while Jeongin and Jimin are monitoring the interview on a phone. The part where Beomgyu talks about his alleged first love comes up. “Beomgyu,” Heeseung groans, covering his ears with a neck pillow. “Did you really have to say all that?”

“Ahh, quit nagging. No one’s even taking it seriously,” he grumbles, arms crossed and turning over his body to face the window instead of his bandmates.

“Yeah, people are just raving about how romantic Beomgyu is,” says Jimin.

“And making edits of him and Heeseung,” adds Jeongin. “They’re mistaking your stressed-out glances at Beomgyu as signs of unrequited love—”

Heeseung shoves a hand against Jeongin’s face to shut him up. “Still. You should be more careful of what you say in front of the camera, Gyu.”

“Nyenye. You should be more careful of what you say in front of the camera, Gyu.” 

They’re friendly as usual. Heeseung can’t put in the last word because Beomgyu has completely transformed into a sleeping position— yet he can’t seem to sleep and rest despite being absolutely fucked out and tired. He lets out a groan, squirming in the car seat. “Ugh.” The car still isn’t moving. The road is still a mess. All he wants is to rest as soon as possible, and he can’t even have that. All he wants is to see you again as soon as possible, and he’s starting to feel like he can’t have that as well.

Beomgyu gives up. He begrudgingly opens his eyes and looks at the state of the traffic out the window. It’s getting dark. Streetlights are being lit up one after the other, and he watches people moving faster than the frozen cars, like the road and the sidewalk are on two separate spaces of time.

A thought enters his head. What are the chances that you’ll be one of the people walking along the sidewalk right now?

“They’re making way for an ambulance.”

It’s a fruitlessly hopeful thought, he knows. It’s a silly possibility to entertain. But still. He can’t help but examine each of the faces passing by in the hopes that maybe, just maybe, his wish from four-hundred years ago will finally fucking come true. 

“Damn, when are we getting home?”

Right when Beomgyu gives up hoping and tries to fall back asleep again, he spots a familiar face walking down the sidewalk. Wait a minute—

“Man, this sucks.”

He jolts up, There’s no way. There’s no way Beomgyu wouldn’t recognize that expression— stone-cold, looking as if the very thing in front of you is a worthless bug waiting to be stepped on, warding away any possible attempts of anyone bothering you. There are no knives in your hands, but a phone and a paper bag. You’re not adorned in the blue, red, white, and gold like he’s used to, but a large coat draped over your shoulders.

Still. Even if your face is covered by a mask, or if you’ve inhabited the body of a completely different person.

“Beomgyu, wanna play are round when we get—”

There’s no way Beomgyu wouldn’t recognize you.

Looks like the chances are high after all.

“Beomgyu?!”

The van door slides open. Beomgyu feels the cold air hitting his face as he rushes in between the gaps of the traffic-saddled cars and the spaces in between. He hears Heeseung and Jeongin and Jimin calling after him but he doesn’t give a shit. Not now. Not when he’s sure he finally has you within reach, closing in the gap between you before you can disappear into a corner. Not when all he has to do is stretch out his hand, breath caught in his throat and heart racing, and pull you by the arm so you can turn around and look at him.

And you do.

Your phone crashes to the ground, and you’re looking at him like you want to punch him in the face. Beomgyu’s heart skips a beat.

“What the hell?!”

“It’s you.”

Beomgyu watches your brows knit together, your mouth falling into a sneer. It’s like looking into a time machine. Holy shit. 

“It’s really you.”

That look of annoyance. There’s no denying it. Night has fallen. The only thing illuminating your face is a single streetlight hanging above, but he’d be stupid to mistake you for anyone else. The arm that shakes his hold off is yours. The eyes that are glaring at him— sharp as knives— are yours, yours, and yours alone and he can get lost in them for hours on end. “The fuck? Do I know—” 

Your name falls from his lips for the first time in centuries. It’s always been blurry, always at the tip of his tongue the moment his memories from four-hundred years ago came crashing back to him like a storm. But now, it comes off naturally the moment he sees you. It rolls off his tongue like it’s the only thing he was ever meant to sing.

He says your name once more. Your eyes widen in alarm.

“Are you a stalker?”

“I love you.”

“Excuse me?”

“I love you,” he repeats, breathless. “My biggest regret was failing to tell you how much I loved when I still had the chance.”

“What the fuck? What are you—”

Beomgyu reaches out for your hands, tugging you closer. Your skin burns him. Warm. Alive. “Now that I’ve been given that chance, I’m not letting go of you anymore.” He pauses, practicing the words inside his head before saying, “Let’s get married.” 

“What?!”

“I love you. I missed you. Let’s get married right now.”

You don’t say anything. You’re silent. Beomgyu feels his stomach wrench and drop and hurt all the way to his chest and lungs because why—

Why are you looking at him like that? 

“I’m going to call the fucking cops.” Once again, you shove him off, pulling your hands back and pressing them close to your chest. “There’s a crazy fucking bastard on the— shit! My phone! The screen is cracked, gosh! I haven’t even finished paying for it, for fuck’s sake, you have to— ex—excuse me, are you crying? Are you actually crying? What the hell?”

Beomgu’s vision is cloudy and his cheeks are wet. He knows you’ve always been spunky. You’ve always had an attitude and you two didn’t start off on the right foot, either. But why are you acting like you don’t know him? Like he’s some sort of fucking stranger? 

“Hey, I should be the one crying right now! You broke my phone! What is wrong with—”

“There you are!”

Suddenly, he doesn’t see you anymore. Heeseung’s voice comes crashing in and he gets shoved aside, eyes stinging and mind still in a daze. “I’m so, so sorry for my friend over here. We can’t pay for the damages right away, but please take this. Again, we’re so sorry! Hope you have a great night, still!”

No. He can’t let you slip away again. Not when he can finally hold you in his arms like all the countless times he hasn’t. “Dude, what are you doing?!” Heeseung yanks him back before he can run after you down the sidewalk. “Quit being weird. Why the hell are you crying?”

Beomgyu is having a hard time understanding. He’s not sure if he can’t, or if he simply doesn’t want to believe this— but your eyes don’t lie. He can tell if you’re annoyed by him just by looking at you. He can tell if you’re angry, regretful, elated, or drunk from the onslaught of his affections, so this time— he can clearly tell as well.

He can tell just from the look in your eyes that you don’t remember him.

That all those years of waiting for you was all for naught.

SOOBIN KNOWS THAT HE SHOULDN’T BE HERE RIGHT NOW. He knows that he’s supposed to be on a diet, and he knows that he has a photo shoot for a magazine this weekend. He even got rid of his stash of instant ramyeon because of that, deleted all those delivery apps because this’ll be his first schedule after a few months of taking a break.

But he is here, at one in the morning, in between the isles of the 7-Eleven nearest to his apartment building, because cravings sometimes trump rationality, and god he sure is craving for a cup of noodles. Or two. Two sounds good. And since he’s already here, might as well put a pack of milk bread in his basket. A can of Sprite too. Manager Lee is gonna kill him, but at least he’ll die full and satisfied.

“Hey, hold the door open for me.”

“Don’t you have hands?”

“Nice! They have empty seats outside. Waiting here. Buy me some donuts.”

Ah, shit. Soobin pulls his hood over his head and readjusts his mask. Sounds like a group coming in. He should pay later once the store’s emptier— meaning, he has no choice but to browse for more snacks to add to his basket. Totally not because he wants to, no. 

“Why’d you bring your laptop all the way here? You can continue working in Woohyung’s apartment.”

“Yeah, girl. There’s still a lot of time before the deadline.”

Soobin doesn’t want to eavesdrop, but the voices are talking pretty loudly. He’s dropping a few packets of yakgwa cookies into his basket while listening to a group of college students mourning about their courses. Good thing he chose not to pursue tertiary education. 

“I need to finish this as soon as possible if I want to attend the fucking fansign. Crap, I should’ve switched majors when I had the chance.”

He abruptly stops snack surfing. Wait. Pause. Hold on.

“Should’ve done that before junior year.”

“I know. Shut up. Get me a popsicle, please. Chocolate. Thank you.”

That voice—

“They ran out. Only strawberry or melon. Pick one”

“That’s fucking balls.”

“You’re so eloquent.”

“Suck my fucking dick.”

Okay. Nevermind. It’s kinda weird to hear a voice that sounds eerily similar to the love of his life’s saying so much obscenities. You only spoke pretty words to him before, so maybe he’s just tripping. There’s no way you’d swear so much, so he continues browsing the snack aisle. Maybe he just misses you so much that he’s starting to mistake a similarly sounding voice as yours and subconsciously letting his hopes up.

“Hyun, by the way. I forgot to mention. I met a Choi Beomgyu lookalike last night on the way home from work. It was fucking wild.”

Then again, he thinks, arm paused hovering above a bag of chips. People didn’t really say suck my fucking dick in Joseon era.

Soobin stops filling his basket and starts moving out of the aisle, following the sound of your voice.

“I almost fell in love on the spot, but the guy wasn’t right in the head, I think.” Closer. You’re starting to sound closer. “He knew my name. He kept acting like he knew me and asked me to fucking marry him? I even dropped my phone because he scared the shit out of me. I don’t know, it was wild.”

Where? Where are you?

“Dude, really? No way.”

“I’m serious! I’m telling you—”

Where the hell are you?

“I even got a card from his friend when he dragged the Beomgyu clone away. I have it here, take a loo— wait. Wait. Isn’t BH the agency that manages Yeong-Il? Am I wrong— oh, sorry!”

There you are.

There’s a stain on his hoodie. Bright pink. It matches the popsicle you’re holding, the varsity jacket you’re wearing, and the color painting his cheeks because you’re right in front of him. You’re actually right in front of him right now— face flushed with panic, eyes rapidly blinking. “Are—are you Choi Soobin?” someone says. Not you. You’re still profusely apologizing while trying to wipe away the stain with your jacket sleeve.

“That’s ridiculous, Huening. Go get me some tissues! I’m so, so sorry, oh gosh. I should’ve been paying more attention.”

You’re here. It’s actually you. His heart is racing. He can’t fucking breathe. He’s not sure if he should cry, scream, or all of the above.

But there’s something different. There’s something wrong.

“I can tell Choi Soobin from a picture of his ear! I’m telling you it’s him!” Your attention is pulled away by your companion tugging on your arm. “You’re Choi Soobin, right?! Jipuragi? Figured Obscurity?”

“Dude, you’re making him uncomfortable! Why in the world would Choi Soobin be—”

Soobin pulls down his mask, tugging on its fabric. When you turn back to look at him, your popsicle drops to the ground and you let out a gasp.

Your eyes are shining. You’re beaming. You do recognize him. You do know him.

“Oh my god. Oh my god, I’m such a big fan.”

Just not in the way he was hoping for.

“Y—yeah. Would you like a picture?”

You let out a squeal. So does your friend. This isn’t how Soobin expected his reunion with you to go about. This is wrong. He had it all planned in his head like a screenplay, and all that was left was to execute it without fail.

The moment he sees you, he was supposed to spin you around and hear your laughter fluttering in the air. He was supposed to hold you in his arms and give you the first kiss he’d been saving in this life because he’s been waiting for you all this time, yearning for years and years to give you the life he wasn’t able to in the past. To make up for everything you missed because in this life— there’s no class system to keep you apart. There’s nothing stopping him from loving you out in the open.

He didn’t expect to give you his autograph and take a fan selca with you after years of waiting.

This is so wrong. This is so freaking wrong.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” who he assumes is your friend says, and you’re smiling so, so brightly while looking at the photo of you and him that everything he wishes to say and profess and confess just lodges in his throat, blocking everything in its path.

“Thank you! Don’t worry, we won’t post this anywhere,” you say. Soobin holds back the inhuman urge to tell you why settle for a photo, when you can have him instead?

“S—sure. Anytime.”

“Ah, we should probably give you some privacy now. Huening, stop gawking! Anyway, fighting! We’re looking forward to your upcoming dramas!”

Just like that, you leave. You walk out of the store and join the rest of your friends outside, and he sees you showing off the signature he left on your receipt from the window, when he could give you so much more than that, when you could show off that you already own his entire heart. This...this really isn’t how he wanted to reunite with you. And the underlying reason for it something he doesn’t want to entertain.

“YEONJUN, YOU’RE UP IN TEN,” says a staff member. It’s the last week of promotions, and Yeonjun is getting his hair and makeup retouched one last time before he’s set to go uponstage to open the fansign. His manager tells him not to do anything stupid, or scandalous, or all of the above onstage— an almost everyday reminder that Yeonjun, more often than not, isn’t interested in listening to.

“Noona, you should trust me more,” he reacts, a slight whine in his tone. Manager Kim’s expression is nothing but dubious.

“At the very least warn me before you do something insane so I can prepare.”

“Will do,” Yeonjun grins, and his manager waves him off. Screams erupt the moment he emerges from behind the stage curtains, and everything else just comes naturally for Choi Yeonjun— not needing to second guess when he blows a kiss mid-performance, stirs the crowd with a comment or two, and making sure that all eyes are on him, almost as if he was born on every stage he steps foot on.

And to think he started this career without any desire for stardom.

Now, there’s nothing he desires more than blinding lights and the visceral sounds of cheers.

“A—ah, hello!” 

Well. There is one thing.

“Crap, I—I’m so nervous I don’t think I can breathe.”

“Oh no,” replies Yeonjun to the fan sitting before him, marker in hand as he flips open the tabbed page on the nth album splayed out on the table. “Should I give you CPR to help you start breathing again?” 

The girl lets out something sort of a squeal. He grins out a laugh and asks for her name and if she’s eaten anything yet.

“Thank you! Oh— oh, wait, one more thing—”

“Next!”

It’s a fast paced rotation. It always is. But Yeonjun uses the split second before the next person carousels in front of him to make a quick scan across the people lining up, across the people waiting in the audience seats, clinging onto the sliver of probability that this may finally be the day where his years of yearning for the ghost of past can finally end— well overdue for god knows how long already. 

He reuses and rehashes the same lines, same dialogue, and same greetings for the next person, and the next person, and the next and the next and the next. It’s just one face after another. Not that he’s bored, or unappreciative of the fans that spent their time (and truckloads of money) to see him. But it’s human to feel a sense of disappointment when the face he wants to see doesn't turn up after the fifth, tenth, seventh, hundredth, thousand, nth face, fansign after a fansign.

“Next.”

His wrist is getting sore, back is getting tired, but Yeonjun readies himself for another round of mindless chat, missing the opportunity to do his routine scans when he closes his eyes to roll back his shoulders. 

“Oh.”

Yeonjun hears the voice in front of him say. It’s a singular syllable, not even a word, but it’s enough to snap him wide awake.

“Oh my gosh,” you say again. Yeonjun doesn’t feel his fingertips. “You’re even prettier up close, whoa, this is crazy.”

He’s frozen. The usual ments and words and lines that usually flow naturally off his tongue don’t come. His brain is empty. The ink from his marker seeps into the album page underneath his numb hands. He hears his manager say something, but his manager’s voice is so far away— so, so, so far away, but the face he;s been yearning for in his memories is now, all of a sudden and without warning, within an arm’s reach, right before his eyes.

The marker stumbles out of his grasp. If Yeonjun reaches an arm out right now—

“U—uh.”

—he’d be able to touch your face.

“O—oh, holy shit, okay so we’re doing this now.”

And he is. The very feeling of your soft skin, unchanged from the feeling stored in the capsules of his memories, burns stronger than the adrenaline he feels when he’s onstage under the spotlight.

It’s real. You’re real.

You’re right in front of him right now.

“Choi Yeonjun, what the hell are you doing?!”

The hiss of his manager from behind is ignored when he suddenly springs up from behind the table, and you let out a yelp when he drags you up along with him. He’s holding both of your hands, thumbs brushing over the ridges of your knuckles before pulling them closer to his chest. There’s whispering in the background, along with the snaps and flashes of the numerous cameras littered everywhere in the venue.

“Yeonjun.”

He pays no mind to them. Instead he brings up your hands to his face and presses a kiss onto your knuckles. 

There’s a scream and gasp and a yell coming from somewhere. 

“I’ve been waiting for this moment.”

But all he’s focused on is the swirls in your widened eyes, dizzy and taken aback, voiceless with your mouth hanging open. Yeonjun furrows his brows. “Why don’t you look happy to see me, my love?” You hack out a hard cough and Yeonjun drops your hands in surprise. “What’s— what’s wrong?” he stammers, leaning forward and closing into your face while you turn away from him, digging more unease into his bones because this...this doesn’t seem right.

“Sh—shit, I think I need to sit down, oh my god,” he hears you say, and it hits him. Yes. You were never good at expressing your affection. Yes, yes. Perhaps you’re just overtaken by a surge of emotions, that your appearance looks like that of constipated confusion of trepidation as a result of being overwhelmed by the fact that you’re so in love with him and that you’re happy to see him again.

Yes. That must be it. You’re both sat back down, and he scribbles something on your now ink-stained album. “Next.” And when you’re just about to bow and leave, he says your name— one that he thought he’s forgotten— and you freeze.

“Why do you look so surprised?” he laughs. “There’s no need to be shy. Should I kiss you again to ease your— ack!”

“Next! Next person!” 

Suddenly, you’re being scurried away. “No, wait!” he yells out, but the moment he tries to get up again, he’s jerked right back.

His manager is holding the back of his collar, and you’re disappearing into the crowd. Was…was Manager Kim always this strong? He can’t even budge, can’t even run after you after he’d finally been reunited with you again.

“Choi Yeonjun, that’s enough!”

He blinks, remembering belatedly just where he is right now.

There’s still a line of people waiting for him. Yeonjun drops back to his seat, his manager losing her grip on his shirt, and he brings himself back after a round of inhales and exhales. It’s alright, he thinks to himself. It’s gonna work out. “Sorry about that,” he hums, smiling at a now different face sitting in front of him. “What did you tell me your name was?”

You’ve been separated from him yet again, but this time it’s fine. He’s not anxious. He’s certain that it won’t take centuries for you to return to each other, no— it won’t be long until then because this time, he’s not dead. 

You’re both still alive at this point in time.

And that enough assures him that he’s going to find his way back to you.

“Next!”

STAR STUDDED BAGGAGE. © hannie-dul-set, 2024.

#txt x reader #choi beomgyu x reader #choi soobin x reader #choi yeonjun x reader #tomorrow x together x reader #txt x you #yeonjun x reader #soobin x reader #beomgyu x reader #choi soobin x you #choi beomgyu x you #choi yeonjun x you #txt fluff #txt fanfic #txt imagines #txt scenarios

[20forty9]

I Didn't Mean To Haunt You

Chapter IV - Candles On Fire

Summary : The spirit spars with Maheas and doesn't realize the mistake it has made will lead to terrible consequences. You go on your first mission with other people, but it doesn't go all according to plan. You have to learn that it's okay to be vulnerable with people you are starting to trust.

Word Count : 9.4k

Contains : Violence. Very vague mention of top scars. I think that's it, please let me know if I'm missing anything!

Pairings : Gojo Satoru/Reader, Geto Suguru/Reader, Everyone/Reader (Reverse Harem)

Cross-posted on Ao3

A/N : So I know I said I wouldn't update in two weeks, but I lied. I lie for fun, apparently. I pumped this chapter out like my LIFE depended on it (confirmed Gege was holding the gun to my head... especially with those latest leaks brah I can't believe it). LOTS of Satoru and Gojo in this chapter! And just a short flashback to Suliman, probably the shortest one I've written so far... Some small fluff too, for once! I must really be feeling sick... I'm also curious, are there any characters you'd like to see more of? OR, actually, who are YOUR favourite characters from JJK that you'd like to see involved in the story? Remember, it's Multi x Reader, so it can be anyone! And is there anything you're not vibing with in this story so far? Feedback means the world to me and keeps me logging back in every day to check if I have any new comments. Trust me, your support goes a long way and keeps me motivated, so thank you to my regular commenters!

Curiosity is the wick in the candle of learning. ~William Arthur Ward

Suliman is utterly obsessed with the spirit’s powers, to put it simply – though even that word couldn’t put enough emphasis on it. Every day, she would create training dummies of different sizes made out of her strange purple tendrils for it to use as target practice, showing off its destructive fire capabilities. 

Though it was glad to be able to use an element without any drawbacks, the way Suliman observed, refusing to tear her eyes away for even one second, disturbed it deeply. Knowing her, she already had a few plans in mind on how to use it for her benefit. 

After absolutely eviscerating another training dummy, Suliman approaches the spirit, stepping over the leftover ashes, slowly clapping her hands. 

“Good,” she simply says. “I think I’ve had enough of you training on something like this. I have a better idea.” 

With a click of her fingers, her entourage of men walk over, followed by the kid the spirit had an encounter with a little over a month ago – Maheas is his name , if it recalls correctly. The dirty-blonde boy holds a sword in his hand, donned in clothes appropriate for exercise. He looks up at the spirit anxiously, a small frown on his face, probably remembering their first meeting. 

“Maheas, from this day forward, this spirit will train you,” Suliman explains to the boy, gently placing a hand on his shoulder. “You are my most promising acolyte, I want to shape you to be the best, and this will surely help you achieve your goal.” 

His gaze drifts to the woman, apprehensive. But when she gives him a soft smile, it seems to weaken his resolve. 

“I won’t let you down, Madame. I’ll work as hard as possible, and become even stronger than that thing!” Maheas points an accusatory finger in the spirit's direction. “I can probably beat it right now!” 

“Oh, is that so?” She tilts her head to the side, the smile never wavering. “Well, why don’t you show me? Make me proud.” 

“I would be honoured.” 

Suliman takes a step back, followed by the men, giving both the spirit and the young boy enough space to spar. 

Unimpressed, the spirit stands firmly in place, not moving a single muscle. It doesn’t want to fight a kid, but it looks like it has no other choice. It remembers their first encounter, when Maheas punched it in the gut and managed to summon enough cursed energy to do some damage in its weakened state. As long as it doesn’t let him hit it directly, it could end this fight in mere seconds. 

“Prepare yourself, spirit!” Maheas says, pointing the tip of his sword in its direction. “I won’t go easy on you.” 

It has to fight the urge to roll its eyes, raising its fists in front of its face and bringing its left leg forward a bit, bending at the knees. With a raise of a thick red eyebrow, it provokes the young boy enough to charge forward, swinging his sword back. The spirit side-steps his attack quickly just as he brings the weapon down right where it was standing, getting it stuck in the ground. 

The sword must be slightly too heavy for Maheas, as he struggles to pull it out, giving the spirit just enough time to move a hand underneath the young boy’s arm, bringing him closer to it before it knees him in the stomach, just strong enough to knock him back and leave him breathless on the ground, but not enough to actually injure him.

Just like that, their fight is over – if you could even call that. 

After taking a deep breath, Maheas sits back up, staring daggers at the spirit. If looks could kill… 

“I want a rematch!” He declares, but when he tries to stand back up, his legs wobble and he immediately sits back down. After getting knocked down like that, the spirit knows he’ll need a few minutes before he can use his legs properly again. It motions with a hand for him to keep sitting, imitating deep breaths. 

“I don’t listen to you,” Maheas says, though he does it anyway, crossing his legs and harrumphing. 

“You did well,” Suliman says as a butler approaches the young boy with a glass of water. “You’ll only continue to improve as you train. I don’t want either of you to hold back on each other, do you understand me?” 

That seems to be a dangerous request, the spirit thinks to itself. It looks over at the boy’s discarded sword laying on the ground, deciding to pick it up and weigh it in its hands. It is definitely too heavy for a boy of his height and weight, and also too restrictive. He’d do well with a polearm. 

There’s a light smack to its side, bringing its attention to the red-faced boy who is – surprisingly enough – already standing on both legs, yelling at it. 

“Put that down, it’s not yours!” He continues weakly punching it with his small fists. 

It decides to look over the sword once more, completely ignoring Maheas, shaking its head in disappointment. 

“What seems to be the problem?” It reads upon Suliman’s lips when it looks over at her. 

She waves the butler over, who brings a piece of parchment paper and quill dipped in ink at the ready. The spirit looks at the objects, confused. 

“You barely talk, so write what’s on your mind instead,” she says. 

It hesitates as it grasps the quill, the tip of it pressing against the paper, still unsure. It doesn’t know how to write . 

“My, you really are pathetic, aren’t you?” Suliman’s lips are still quirked up in a small smile as she gently berates it. “Fine, just speak instead.” 

It swallows nervously, suddenly becoming increasingly more uncomfortable. It doesn’t know what vowels to emphasize or vocalize. It shakes its head no instead, pointing at the sword and making an ‘x’ with its fingers before gesturing at Maheas. 

“Are you saying the sword isn’t a good weapon for him?” She asks, crossing her arms. Thankful she understood it, it nods. The young boy standing next to them looks mildly offended, stomping a foot on the ground. 

“You calling me weak?!” 

The spirit shakes its head back and forth again. 

“I think it’s saying that another weapon would suit you better,” Suliman patiently explains it to him, and it nods at that. “If that’s the case, why don’t you show us what will work better?” 

Each of the men that were standing on guard brandish their weapons, each of them being different. They stand tall, backs straight and situated in a line, and hold their weapon in the palm of their hands. 

“Go on,” she encourages the spirit. 

Its eyes scrutinize over each of them before they land on a man holding a polearm. It walks over to him, pointing at it then looking back at Suliman. 

“Well, go on then,” she urges Maheas with a gentle push to his back. He reluctantly makes his way over to stand next to the spirit, taking the polearm from the man standing in front of the both of them. 

The spirit notes that it’s definitely too long for someone of his height, but with a few adjustments, he’ll be able to move more swiftly and have more versatile attacks. It will significantly extend his range and striking power, too. Compared to the sword, this is a much better option for the young boy. 

“How does it feel?” Suliman asks Maheas, observing him. 

“It’s okay, I think,” he replies, weighing the weapon in both hands. He still seems unsure, but with time he’ll become more used to it. 

“Wonderful. We’ll make you one that suits you better so you can properly train with the spirit by tomorrow,” she says, motioning at the man to take his polearm back. 

The young boy smiles widely at the prospect of a new weapon, thanking her over and over again. Suliman pats him on the head in a motherly way, giving him a smile of her own, but the spirit notices that there is no genuine warmth behind it. She adjusts her dress slightly before leading Maheas away, leaving a request to the men to bring the spirit back to its room. She waves goodbye to it as she walks with the young boy through the gardens and back to the greenhouse. 

The spirit can’t help but think it has made a grave mistake. 

 

The following day after the big thunderstorm, you wake up with a sudden start, feeling your alarm clock vibrate underneath the pillow. You click it off, setting it on the nightstand, and immediately sit up, wiping the sleep away from your eyes. It feels like your blood is already pumping – today is a big day, after all. It’s your first official mission, no less a mission with other people. Today is a day where you can prove his worth and show your loyalty to the higher-ups. 

You already have some clothes set aside for today – your usual sleeveless compression shirt and dark brown cargo pants and converse. After taking a shower and changing, you open the blinds to let in the morning sun shine into the room through the leaves of the trees outside. After the terrible weather from yesterday, it seems that today is a beautifully bright day. 

You smile to yourself, grabbing your notebook and pen. Closing and locking the door behind you, you exit the dormitories, heading to Yaga’s classroom so your team can be debriefed. As usual, you’re the first one there, so you take a seat at the desk you claimed during your first time there, putting your legs up on the table. 

“How are you feeling today?” Yaga asks as he looks up from his laptop, a pen in his right hand, papers in his left. It looks like he was doing paperwork for a mission the others must’ve been sent on recently. 

You reply with a thumbs up and a bright smile, which makes the older man relax, leaning back in his chair. “I’m glad to hear that.” 

While you both wait for the others to show up, you doodle silly drawings in the notebook to fight the boredom. You’re not an artist by any means, but it still helps to pass time. You drew the fish that were in the sign language book from yesterday, but this time, the koi fish is swimming happily with the two other betta fish in a small pond. 

You get pulled out of your intense focus when a manicured finger taps down on the top of the notebook, bringing your gaze up to meet Shoko’s. 

“Cute drawing,” she says, leaning over to see it better. 

You sign thanks a little bit flustered, flipping the notebook to a blank page. 

- How are you doing? :) 

“I’m good, thanks,” she replies, hopping onto the desk next to your own. She turns to look at her teacher. “Am I on time, sensei?” 

“Take a look at the clock yourself,” he seems to grumble. 

Five minutes past their agreed meeting time. “Ehh, close enough.” 

It takes another ten minutes for Gojo and Geto to show up together, fashionably late as always. Instead of wearing the hoodie he used to wear with the hood up to protect his eyes, Gojo has now switched into the full normal school uniform, along with the glasses you gifted him. 

“Yo!” The white-haired man casually greets Yaga, a wide smile spread across his face. 

“Fifteen minutes,” the man replies. 

“Huh?”

“ Fifteen minutes late!” You can nearly feel the ground shake from how loudly Yaga yells. “Are you two morons ??!” 

“Sorry sensei, it’ll never happen again, we promise,” Geto says, bowing at the waist in respect. When he notices Gojo doesn’t bow either, he shoves a hand at the back of his head to force him to follow. 

You share a deadpan look with Shoko. You seem to be having the exact same thought — it’ll happen next week, guaranteed. 

“...Well, now that you’re all here, we’ll debrief and you’ll leave as soon as I’m done explaining,” Yaga says, closing his laptop and setting his papers in a neat pile. “This curse has been reported near an abandoned concert venue, just on the outskirts of Hachioji. It’s a bit of a drive, but bear with me. It shouldn’t be too difficult–” he levels a deadly look in Gojo’s direction, “–it’s a simple Grade 2. Just remember to put a veil up, and don’t get injured. Shoko is staying behind today.” 

“No complaints from me,” she says before rolling her head side to side, trying to loosen up a kink in her neck. 

“Behave, you two,” he tells both Gojo and Geto before turning to you. “And you… just– I don’t know, do what you usually do, but don’t be a pain in the ass.” 

You salute him with a goofy smile spread across your face, making the teacher glare at you halfheartedly. Unbeknownst to you, the two young men in the room snicker behind you at your behaviour. 

With the meeting adjourned, the three of you walk through the Jujutsu school’s campus to make your way to the transport car, where the driver waits for you patiently. You all clamber into the car, Gojo sitting in the passenger seat because of his ridiculously long limbs. He seems that he doesn’t know what to do with them either, awkwardly shifting the seat back to make enough room to be comfortable. You sit directly behind him with Geto to your right. 

The car immediately speeds off, the view of trees and houses quickly blurring together. You wistfully look out of your window. The sun shines brightly through the leaves of the trees, making you squint a little and turn your head to the right, facing Geto instead, who is already looking at you. 

“Are you looking forward to exorcising your first curse?” He asks, resting his cheek on his fist. 

Thankful you didn’t forget your notebook today, you quickly write on the paper. 

- Yes, I hope we’ll make a good team. I’m aware you two are capable, but we should learn to work as a team properly. And I’m NOT(!!!!) just saying that because I’m scared of what Yaga might say if we end up causing a mess, I genuinely want to help with making Tokyo more safe. 

You doodle a small smiley face at the end of your paragraph, hopefully to drive your point home. You’re more than aware that the two of them are adept at this, but they can’t be the only two to do so. They should be able to rely on others, especially someone that doesn’t need as much rest, food or water like most humans do. 

“It’ll be a learning experience, for sure,” the raven-haired man humbly replies, before his eyes seem to sharpen, sending a teasing look in your direction as he reads the rest. “You’re sure you’re not afraid of Yaga?”

You shake your head back and forth vigorously, your arms forming an ‘x’ in protest. Absolutely, but I won’t tell these two that. 

Gojo abruptly turns around in his seat, leaning over the center armrest (and apparently pissing off the driver while doing it) and shoves his phone in Geto’s face. 

“Look, look!” He says, waving the phone around wildly in front of his friend’s eyes. 

“Dude, calm down,” Geto scoffs, yanking it from Gojo’s hands to take a look. “Seriously, Digimon?” 

“X-Evolution is finally out on DVD, we gotta watch it!!!” 

“Didn’t you see that movie, like, six times since its release?” He raises an eyebrow, shooting him a judgemental look. 

“Actually, it’s more like seven. Or eight,” he pauses, pushing his sunglasses up along the bridge of his nose. “Wait, actually, no, it was ten.” 

“You look like a total nerd,” Geto looks down at the screen again. “And somehow you want to watch it again ?” 

“Absolutely.”

The white-haired man says it with the most serious expression you have ever seen that you can’t help but snort lightly, covering your mouth with your hand when you realize it grabbed both of the men’s attention. For some reason, it makes you feel incredibly uncomfortable. So you settle back in your seat, leaning your head back and only turning your eyes back onto their lips to read the conversation once you’re absolutely sure Gojo’s piercing gaze is fixated back onto his friend. 

“Let’s pick up the DVD after the mission,” he says, grabbing his phone back from Geto’s hands, still continuing to lean over the armrest. 

“You mean you’ll pick it up,” he points at him. “I am not paying for that. You are literally rich.” 

“But it’s more special and meaningful and romantic when we pay for something together!” He whines, wrapping his long arms around the headrest and hugging it in faux-comfort. This man truly loves bringing out the theatrics , you think to yourself. 

“Allow me to disagree with you on that,” Geto says, a deadpan look on his face, before turning his head to the window. 

He seems to be saying something else, you can tell by the way his jaw moves, but you can’t see his lips from this angle. Whatever it is, it makes Gojo laugh and point at him, but by this point you don't bother following the conversation anymore, too confused. What the hell is Digimon, anyways? What’s a DVD? Sighing to yourself, you look outside, watching the scenery pass by. 

A little over half an hour passes by when the car makes it out to the outskirts, driving along a slim road. There are farmhouses and fields, buildings placed further apart from each other as it becomes more remote. Tokyo city has nothing compared to the lush greenery on Hachioji’s outskirts, and you can tell that it’s much more quiet here compared to the city. There’s no familiar rumbling of trucks that you have become accustomed to when walking along the pavement, instead it’s peaceful. You wonder if the birds chirp more loudly here. 

The driver drives up a steep hill, and the distant sight of a mountain covered in thick, healthy green trees greets your group. The car goes up, up, up and around the streets that bend along the hill before you come across a split in the road. The driver turns to the left onto an unpaved road, gravel bouncing against metal, and suddenly the sun seems to disappear underneath the canopy of leaves. 

The deeper you go onto this unpaved road, the less you come across houses, until there are none left. Instead, old, empty, rusty steel drums spray painted with arrows and different symbols replace them. There’s nothing around except for ‘ No Trespassing! ' signs. 

The vehicle comes to a sudden halt, and you feel the door underneath your palm shake slightly, meaning that the car is unlocked. You open the door with your notebook in hand, happy to stretch your legs out after spending nearly an hour travelling. You feel the dry twigs snap underneath your feet, dead leaves brushing against your ankles. The smell of fresh air fills your lungs, and you take a deep breath in. This is as close to heaven as it gets . You reach back into the car to grab your polearm that was laying on the floor in its holder, putting the strap around your chest so the weapon can rest against your back, leaving your hands free. 

There’s a quick tap on your shoulder, and you turn around to be face-to-face with Gojo, who looks at you over the rim of his sunglasses. Bright blue eyes stare at you, and you realize that it’s something that you’ll have to get used to, unless you want that smug bastard to tease you every time you get nervous from looking at him in the eyes. 

“Let’s go,” he says, thumbing behind him. “We have to walk a bit, and the driver is gonna stay with the car. Hope you like to hike.” 

You have to leg over the horizontal chain attached to two poles to block any cars from passing, and Gojo nearly trips over it, his hand immediately reaching out to your arm to steady himself before he can fall face first and accidentally eat a pile of dirt. 

“ Nice one, ” you sign with an eyebrow raised, the white-haired man standing back at full height, rubbing his hands against his uniform as if trying to wipe your cursed energy off of his skin. 

“I don’t know what you just said to me, but I don’t like your attitude, kiddo,” Gojo replies, taking a ‘ parent-disappointed-in-you ’ pose, arms crossed, hips jutting out. He’s about to retort with something else before he closes his mouth instead, jogging ahead to catch up to Geto, who was waving the two of you over impatiently. 

“Let’s just get this over with instead of messing around, alright?” The raven-haired man sighs, an exasperated look on his face. 

“You just wanna show off,” Gojo says, tucking his hands into his pockets before sauntering off. 

None of you speak a word amongst each other until you make it to a big, rundown building. It’s not as big as a stadium, but the concerts held here back in the day must’ve been fun with such an open area. 

“I wonder why they had a venue out in the middle of nowhere,” Geto says to you as he walks alongside you. “Seems a bit strange.” 

- More space? Beats me. 

You turn the page to face him after you finish writing, giving him a shrug of your shoulders. 

You’re just about to ask where Gojo went until a flash of bright white hair makes itself known in the corner of your eye. You see him waving at you both, motioning you to come closer to the building. 

“Slowpokes, over here!” 

Geto rolls his eyes, but follows him inside, and you follow suit. 

You’re greeted with a dark lobby, burst pipes leaking water and forming deep puddles on the ground. You can immediately feel the water seeping into your canvas shoes and socks, making your face scrunch up in distaste. At another glance, there are multiple stands labeled ‘Food’, ‘Alcohol’, ‘Merchandise’, and more. This must’ve definitely been a popular place. The paint is peeling off of the walls, and there’s graffiti sprayed against any space that isn’t occupied by mold or dirty, dripping water. You walk over to a concession stand, inspecting it and turning your back to the front doors where your group first walked in from. 

“Do you think Nirvana played here?” Gojo asks Geto, pointing at the large closed doors, presumably leading to the concert hall itself. 

“Are you fucking stupid?” 

Gojo pouts, kicking a fallen piece of pipe on the ground. “Jeez, you only had to say no.” 

Just as he’s about to open the big doors, he pauses, his whole body freezing up. Geto, upon noticing this, feels a wave of guilt wash over him, assuming his words actually insulted his friend. 

“Hey, you know I was just kidding, right?” 

“Get down!” Gojo whips around suddenly, calling out your name. Luckily, you had been looking at the two of them just as he spoke up, and the instant you read his lips, you duck, not even thinking twice. You feel a violent crack of air whip the top of your head – if you hadn’t moved in time, your head would’ve been sliced clean off. 

Twisting your body around, you look up, coming face-to-face with a group of low-levelled curses, one of them having long, razor-sharp cleavers for arms. They’re all mangled and twisted, ribs protruding out of their sides and wearing paper masks with strange symbols trying to imitate facial features. Their skin is almost human-like, but the fact that every inch of them is somehow warped together quickly puts that thought to rest. You reach for your back, about to pull out your polearm from its sheath, but you’re beaten to the punch as Geto runs up behind you, launching himself in the air and kicking Razor-arms in the face, sending it stumbling backwards. 

The other curses quickly retaliate, one of them trying to gain the upper hand while Geto is still in the air and grabbing his leg, slamming him down onto the hard floor. They’re about to bring down a finishing blow, but get interrupted by you finally taking out your polearm and slashing at their masks, making the group stumble back. Gojo immediately rushes over, splaying out his arms before bringing them together again and making rushed, complicated hand movements. The reaction is instantaneous – a large blue orb starts forming and the entire group of curses get sucked into it like a magnet, crashing together before turning into nothing. 

You and Geto get back on their feet. You’re shocked at what you just saw, mismatched eyes wide in surprise. Gojo just completely evaporated those curses as if it was nothing to him, not even a single drop of sweat wasted on them. This must be why he’s on such a constant high horse .

The white-haired man looks at you in disdain. “You’re a cursed spirit and you didn’t even feel your own kind?” He rolls his eyes. Well, there’s that classic Gojo that you first met – so much for his unexpected kindness from yesterday. 

You look around for your notebook, hoping to explain your lack of reaction better. Unfortunately, you find it where you nearly got decapitated, in a muddied puddle of water, completely ruined. Wonderful, you think to yourself. You can’t even be angry at the fact you were so careless just to toss it away at the first breath of danger, just annoyed. 

“Maybe you didn’t want to kill them,” he continues, making your eyebrows raise. It was hard not to be genuinely offended by that comment. “After all, they’re you.” 

“ They aren’t me at all, ” you try to be patient as you sign, but you can’t help the feeling of anxiety that pangs in your chest, eyebrows furrowed and lips downturned. This is not how you wanted your first mission with others to go. 

“Satoru, that’s enough. If you want to nag them about this, do it later,” Geto interrupts the two of you, motioning vaguely to the big doors you had yet to go through. “Let’s get this done first.” 

Gojo decides to heed to his friend’s demands, mercifully giving you some space. You trail behind the white-haired man, looking down at your water-logged shoes, feeling a heavy weight on your shoulders. That is, until Gojo grabs you by the bicep to tug you forward to walk beside him. Surprised at the sudden action, you look up at him. 

“You’re too quiet, I won’t be able to hear if you get snatched up by a curse,” he explains through gritted teeth, looking up at the graffitied ceiling through his sunglasses. Refusing to actually acknowledge you, as if you’re more of an annoyance than teammate. 

You look forward, not bothering to dignify him with a reply. A tight feeling in your chest makes itself known, unpleasant and uncomfortable. 

“Seems weird to me that we haven’t run into the Grade 2 curse yet. Yaga didn’t tell us there would be any others besides it,” Geto turns around to face the two of you when you approach the door, an unsure look in his eyes. 

Gojo shrugs nonchalantly, walking up to the doors and tugging on the handles to pry them open. As soon as they swing ajar, a thick cloud of dust permeates through the air, making all of you cough violently as you breathe it in. Carefully, Geto takes the first step in, taking a flashlight out of the deep pocket of his pants, turning it on to illuminate the concert hall. 

The ceilings are high, and the venue has a main floor, balcony, and gallery. The seats are old and wrecked, a layer of dust, dirt and mold covering them all. Some are knocked over by miscreants, others are completely missing, and some are left untouched. The stage itself is decorated with even more graffiti, not a single inch left blank. 

Geto and Gojo are conversing about something, standing closer to each other than before, and it frustrates you to no end that you can’t tell what they’re discussing because of how dark the room is. If only the windows weren’t blacked out, then the room would have just enough light for you to lip-read. 

You’re about to wander off on your own to find the curse until there’s a powerful rumble underneath your feet, nearly making you lose your footing. Suddenly, a gigantic monstrosity crashes through the stage, sending wood and debris flying everywhere. The creature has multiple limbs, the most prominent features being its two front arms covering its ears, an unhinged jaw with far too many rows of teeth, with snot, sweat and tears running down every single orifice on its body. Its complexion is stark white, and there are strange neon tattoos along its other limbs. 

This must be the curse Yaga was talking about. 

This is definitely more powerful than a Grade 2 curse. 

Even with your lack of awareness of cursed energy, you can certainly tell that this is far beyond whatever was reported. 

There’s another powerful shake in the ground as the beast opens up its mouth, sending spittle flying everywhere. You ready your polearm, prepared to exorcise the curse, but you notice the lack of attack from your teammates. Gojo should be jumping at the opportunity to show off and waste another creature. Concerned, you take a quick glance behind your shoulder and notice that both Gojo and Geto are hunched over, covering their ears and clenching their jaws so hard that you can notice a prominent vein in the raven-haired man’s forehead popping out. 

You run over to them, hesitantly placing a comforting hand on Geto’s back. Eyes that were once screwed shut crack open to look up at your worried gaze, and he weakly points to the huge curse on the stage. 

It suddenly dawns on you – the rumbling wasn’t from the pure size of this curse breaking through the wall, it was from its mouth. It’s screeching so loud to the point where everything is shaking. 

The curse stops screaming for a moment, turning its deformed body to look around, its singular huge eye locking straight onto you . A dense string of drool pools from the corner of its mouth onto the ground, creating a disgusting, thick puddle of mucus below it. 

Taking the short distraction to his advantage, Gojo starts to make those complicated hand signs again, but unfortunately the curse notices too quickly – it opens its mouth to continue shrieking at your group, making glass shatter all around you. It completely incapacitates Gojo and Geto, whose hands immediately go to cover their ears again. Upon closer inspection, you notice drops of blood running down both of their jaws; the curse is so loud it makes their ears bleed. 

And you can’t hear a thing. 

The resolution comes to you much more easily than you expected. You grip your polearm tightly in your left hand, running forward to give yourself enough momentum to throw yourself upwards, twisting your body in the air to bring the blade of your weapon forward. Just as it’s about to pierce the skin of the curse, it opens its mouth and makes such a powerful blast of noise that it sends you flying back in the air, roughly landing on your back against some seats on the top floor, in the gallery. 

You cough violently as the breath is knocked out of your lungs, but quickly gets back up onto your feet. The curse is already aiming one of its gangly legs in your direction, and you level it with a glare, unmoving until it brings its hand down. The second the large limb gets close enough for impact, you push your foot against the ground, sending you sideways and putting just the right amount of distance to avoid getting hit. 

Its arm gets jammed between the seats and concrete of the third floor, and you take the opportunity to hop onto the forelimb, running along it and bringing your polearm forward to take yet another swing at the curse. Just as expected, the curse tries to screech at you again, so you jump up, going above its head and somersaulting in the air to bring your weapon down. Just as you feel the blade make impact with solid skin, a mouth appears right where the blade is and swallows it whole. You don't have enough time to register the shock, but still have half a mind to use the rest of your momentum to fall back down onto the ground floor, where your teammates are still hunched over, clutching at their heads in agony. You can’t even begin to imagine the pain that must be rattling throughout their brain. 

You huff, wiping the sweat from your brow. With no more weapons in hand, you decide to take this curse seriously and be more cautious. This isn’t just a Grade 2 anymore, this is something definitely dangerous. But…

You don't want to use your powers in front of others. Knowing that you are capable of this destruction will only make others more fearful of you, and it’s the last thing you want. You don't want to be isolated again, or working and living with people who don’t trust you. You just want to help. 

You’re considering his options, glancing back at Gojo and Geto for a moment, a wave of concern washing over you. If you don't get rid of this curse soon, they’ll probably lose their hearing completely, if they haven’t already. Fuck, if only things weren’t so damn complicated–

You see the shock written across Gojo’s face before you feel the impact against your side. His blacked-out sunglasses dropped down to the tip of his bloody nose, the sides of his face covered in blood, but he still had enough consciousness left in him to register the curse creeping behind you, eyes widening as it pulls back a large hand and whips you across the room. 

You break through multiple layers of wood, feeling splinter after splinter embedding in your skin and ripping it open as they get caught onto other debris. Finally, you slam against the furthest wall, concrete cracking against your back from the sudden shock. Blood spurts from your mouth - definitely a few broken ribs - and you feel dizzy, but you can’t pass out just yet. You force yourself onto shaky legs, looking at the creature that seems to be preparing to release another bloodcurdling scream. 

Fuck it.

There’s a sharp spike of pain that courses throughout your body as you raise your right arm, aiming at the curse. With a snap of your fingers, an enormous explosion of cyan fire mixed with purple flames ignites the entire stage, crawling across the curse’s skin and making it wail out in pain – or at least, that’s what you think it's doing. You can feel the heat against your skin, sparks igniting and scorching the exposed part of your arms, sweat beading your forehead. Tears and mucus fly everywhere as the curse’s limbs reach out for release, anything, from the burning that is spreading all along its body. Multiple hands crunch concrete and wood underneath it, bringing half of the ceiling down on top of it, but the flames burn brightly until the violent rumbling underneath your feet becomes a simple vibration, then turns to nothing . 

You bring your right hand up again, palm facing the violent flames, then bring it back down to your side, making the fire dissipate completely, leaving behind a mountain of ashes and thick clouds of smoke in its wake. 

And just like that, it’s over. 

You breathe in and out deeply, ribs painfully screaming out in protest at the action, and you clutch at your side to try and alleviate the pain. That curse had quite the punch to it , you think to yourself. Looking up, you walk through the smoke to return to your teammates and check on them. The uncomfortable warmth from using your fire lingers in the building, making you feel like you’re in a sauna. Your nose scrunches as you wipe the sweat from your forehead with the back of your hand, only to feel the moisture gather again. 

You know they’ll be horrified and disgusted. You feel a pang of sadness and guilt – they’ll never want to face you again. Gojo was right, you are a cursed spirit. You’ll only bring destruction and death to the people around you. You’re a monster.  

You do not expect the sight in front of you. Geto smiles at you in relief when he sees you appear through the thick clouds of smoke, though his eyebrows are knitted in concern when he sees you clutch your side. Gojo, however, beams at you, bright white teeth on display. His hands are covered in blood, but he doesn’t seem to mind it in the least. 

“Holy shit, why didn’t you tell us you could do that?!” Gojo exclaims, walking up to you and wiping the blood on the pants of his uniform. “You’re not as weak as I thought you were.” 

You stare at them, confused. Shouldn’t they be worried that you’d use this power against them? Isn’t this exactly what Gojo and the council of elders were afraid of? Eyes unblinking and unfocused, you give him a half-hearted shrug, feeling like you can barely move a muscle all of a sudden. 

This feels wrong. Bile rises at the back of your throat as uneasiness creeps along your spine – shouldn’t you be punished for unleashing your power like that? Gojo and Geto are obviously putting up a front. As soon as you all return to the school grounds, you’ll be thrown into confinement again, you’re sure of it. There’s no way this can end well for you. 

“Damn, my head is killing me,” Gojo says, bringing you out of your inner turmoil. “Let’s head back, I need to fix my poor eardrums.” 

Geto wordlessly follows, your eyes glued to the ground below you as your eyes go back to feeling clouded, mind feeling foggy as your body moves on autopilot. The tips of your fingers are tingling, hands and arms feeling numb as you feel like you’ve detached from yourself, a third-person view to your own life. You feel nothing until you collide into Geto’s muscular back, feeling your ribs throbbing in pain. 

Wondering why the raven-haired man came to a sudden stop, you focus back on the moment at hand, looking up at him. Geto looks concerned, eyebrows furrowed as he clasps his chin in between his fingers. He eventually closes his eyes in frustration, lips downturned. 

“Did any of us put up a veil?” He asks. 

Gojo turns his head around slowly, the smile on his face frozen. You feel cold sweat gathering at the back of your neck.

“Oh, fuck.” 

It’s pitch black by the time the car returns to campus, all staff and students already tucked in for the night besides Gojo, Geto, and yourself. It’s nearing one in the morning, as Gojo forced the driver escorting you to stop by a DVD store to pick up the latest Digimon movie, then dinner, then snacks too. Thankfully, he paid for everything. 

The best part about the situation is that Yaga is an early sleeper, so none of you have to face his wrath about messing up the veil until tomorrow morning when you have to debrief. You’re all too tired to deal with being slapped over the head by a ruler. It’s the small mercies that make all the difference. 

The streetlamps and the moon are the only things illuminating the pathway to the dormitory building, all three of you lugging your own plastic bags filled with goodies back to Gojo’s room. You place it down next to the door as the white-haired man goes to unlock it, and turn to leave to go back to your own room until you feel a large, warm hand grasp your right wrist. Your head snaps back, turning to face Gojo. 

“Where’re you going?” He asks, frowning and tilting his head to the side. “We’re all watching a movie together, c’mon. You don’t have a choice.” 

Your mouth drops open slightly, confused. “ Okay, ” you sign with your free hand, letting it awkwardly hang in the air. As subtle as possible, you yank your wrist free from Gojo’s hold, feeling the warmth spread along your arm through the bandages. 

Gojo’s room is tidy, for the most part. There’s a pile of dirty clothes in the corner of his room, right next to the laundry basket, and his bed is left unmade, blankets strewn everywhere. However, the desk is set up in a precise way, the chair is tucked in, and all the pens are lined up straight. The posters in his room are mostly all of Digimon and some other movies that you don't know. The TV is parallel to his bed that is pressed up against the wall, exactly like yours is, and there are a few bean bag chairs on the ground in front of it. 

Geto immediately launches himself on top of one, letting his body sink into it and letting himself relax. Gojo sets up the large array of snacks on his desk after putting his pens away, putting his favourite ones on the right. You continue awkwardly standing in the middle of the room, observing him as he puts chips in a large bowl. His head twists to the door suddenly and he opens it up, revealing Shoko. 

Her brown hair is a bit of a mess, and she looks exhausted, but she manages to muster a small grin when her eyes land on you, waving at you. 

Wordlessly, Gojo pulls out the chair underneath his desk and sits in it, Shoko immediately walking behind him and puts her hands over his ears. A small glow of cursed energy emits from her hands soon after, and you can see the way the white-haired man visibly deflates in the chair. A few minutes pass, and she strolls over to Geto, leaning over to do the same thing to him. 

She goes to you last, hands hovering in the air. 

“I’m still not sure if I can even heal you, considering last time,” she says, looking at you with a hesitant look in her eye. “But your ribs need to be looked at, at the very least.” 

“What do you mean, you can’t heal them?” Geto asks, lifting his head up from the bean bag. 

“I tried to heal their nose, but I couldn’t,” she replies rather simply. “Sorry, this might hurt a bit.” 

Her hands press against your ribcage, and you inhale sharply, trying to stay still as Shoko’s cursed energy resonates against you. 

“See, it’s not letting me,” she says, looking at you then at the other two men. “I can feel their injuries – just bruised ribs – but I can’t properly heal them. I can feel that they’re hurt, but it’s like every single part of them is, and my technique can’t pinpoint the source of where they’re actually injured at the moment.” 

Geto looks over at you thoughtfully, his gaze raking up the entire length of your body. His eyes land on the bandages carefully wrapped around your arms, still securely in place even after the encounter with the curse. His eyes narrow – maybe Shoko’s cursed energy is focusing on whatever is hidden beneath the bandages. You notice his stare and nervously shuffle in place, which makes Shoko grab you by the biceps to keep you still. 

“Don’t move,” she tells you, frowning. “Do you have any more clean bandages?” 

You nod your head, holding a finger up. Be right back, you mouth, then walk out of Gojo’s dorm to go to your own room. You unlock the door, being greeted with a pitch-black room. Quickly flicking the lights on, you rummage through one of the drawers of your dresser for the bandage wraps. You feel the familiar scratchy fabric brush against your fingers, and grab a roll out. As you go to close the door and make your way back to the group, you take a final look at your room. 

It feels more empty and desolate than usual. You’ve never associated this feeling with your own dorm room before, and it’s not something you like. There’s a tug at your chest, something at the back of your mind telling you to return to the others, and you decide to listen.

Shoko smiles when she sees the bandages in your hand, taking the roll from you and motioning you to take your compression shirt off, tugging at the edge of it. 

You press your lips together awkwardly, feeling incredibly uncomfortable. Maybe you should’ve just stayed in your room, after all . However, the look she gives you says enough – you don't have much of a choice. You exhale deeply out through your nose, acquiescing. The shirt is covered in the curse’s mucus and sticks to your skin, nearly making you gag as you take it off, feeling the slime stick to you. 

“Jesus, what the hell were you guys fighting?” Shoko’s gaze is fixed on the two other men who look equally grossed out, thinking at the bodily fluids from earlier. When she turns her head to look back at you, her eyes immediately land on your exposed chest, eyebrows raising slightly. “Ohh… I kinda guessed.” 

The scars on your chest aren’t something you’re ashamed of, but it’s still something that you consider private. You understand that you’re taking his shirt off purely for medical reasons, but it still feels like you’re exposing a side of yourself that only one other person knows. And now, other people know, people whose opinions you care about. 

“I appreciate you feeling comfortable enough to do that,” Shoko says your name, looking directly into your mismatched eyes. “It means a lot.” 

That makes you smile for the first time in hours. You nod, looking down bashfully as the eye contact is a bit too much for you right now. Your eyes eventually flicker to both Gojo then Geto, the latter giving you an encouraging thumbs up. You notice that both of them have changed into different clothes, out of their dirtied uniforms and into t-shirts and sweatpants. You look over to the white-haired man, who has shoveled a bunch of sweets into his mouth. He’s saying something, but it’s too hard for you to lipread when half his face is covered by food. Gojo seems to realize this, swallowing everything down in one large gulp and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. 

“We don’t care about that stuff, dude,” he tells you. “You don’t have to worry about us judging you.” 

You sign your earnest thanks, warmth spreading across your cheeks. 

“Yeah, seriously, I’m more worried about the bruises,” Shoko says, pointing to the darkened skin.

She then raises your arms, unfurling the bandage roll and starting to wrap it around your torso. The pressure is uncomfortable and makes your body ache, and you can’t help your eyes from scrunching closed – it’s been a while since you’ve gotten injured like this, and it doesn’t seem to get any easier. 

As soon as she’s done bandaging you up, you reach for your discarded shirt before Gojo’s hand stops you, grasping your wrist. He seems to have a knack for touching you. 

“Nuh-uh, no way are you putting that back on when it’s covered in that shit,” he yanks the shirt out of your clutches. “And get out of those pants too, they reek. You aren’t allowed in my room if you keep wearing those.” 

“You know, if you want to see them naked that bad, you could’ve been more subtle,” Shoko teases Gojo, a wide grin spread across her face, provoking him to try and trip her with his long legs. 

“Fuck off,” he says, though the tips of his ears are turning red. “That isn’t what I meant, go smoke outside or something…” He proceeds to shove a white t-shirt and some grey sweatpants into your arms before addressing you. “Just go change in the bathroom.” 

You nod, a smile playing upon your lips. Though Gojo’s attitude towards you has been fluctuating like crazy today, you’re grateful that the man still has enough decency left in him to give you clean clothes. 

You close the door to the bathroom, turning the light on and being greeted by the sight of yourself in the mirror. Your face immediately drops. The reminder of Suliman’s permanent mark on you stares back at you, the magenta eye seemingly haunting every corner of your mind. You look down to your left arm, thankfully still covered. There’s no trace of the curse mark peeking through. 

You quickly tug the oversized t-shirt on, the fabric soft and delicate against your skin – it must’ve cost Gojo a pretty penny for it. Next, you take your ruined cargo pants off, tugging the sweats up. The ankles of the pants are way too long and cover your feet, but you’ll have to work with it. After tightening the drawstring of the pants to make sure they don’t slip down your hips, you give yourself one last look in the mirror. 

You only see the version of yourself that you were with Suliman. A mess of a monster, clinging to any humanity blessed upon it. A glutton for a life worth living, but the hunger for curiosity was its ultimate punishment. At any moment, Geto and Gojo will most likely realize what a terrible creature you are and become disgusted with you. 

You can’t look at yourself any longer, opening the door of the bathroom and joining the others again. You force yourself to ignore the thoughts gnawing at the back of your mind, determined to enjoy the most of your night.

Gojo has the TV turned on now, delicately placing a metal disc in the strange contraption underneath the television. He has a notebook and pen in his other hand, and the second his eyes land on you, he stands up straight, walking over and grabbing your hand to place the notebook and pen in your hold. 

“There you go,” it’s hard to tell what he says because his mouth barely moves, as if he’s trying to keep the conversation just between yourselves, but you make out just enough to understand. Gojo then steps back, flopping onto the other free beanbag chair, a black brick with buttons in his hand – you have never seen anything like that before. 

- What’s that thing that Gojo has? And what’s the round shiny thing? And the thing under the TV? 

You nearly shove the notebook in Geto’s face, making his shoulders shake lightly with laughter. 

“You’ve got lots of questions about things, don’t you?” He tilts his head to the side, a small smile on his face. “That’s a remote, he’s putting the DVD in the player so we can watch a movie.” 

“...You do know what a movie is, right?” Shoko asks as she walks over with a bowl of snacks in hand. She puts a big pillow on the ground, plopping herself right in between the bean bags. 

You nod your head, deciding to sit down on the edge of Gojo’s bed, legs dangling right behind Shoko. 

“Which one’s your favourite?” Gojo turns around to watch the conversation unfold, finger hovering over the ‘play’ button. 

You shrug. Yaga has talked about his favourite movies in the past, but you never ended up watching any together. 

- I don’t know, I’ve never watched any before. 

As soon as you turn the notebook around for the others to read, Gojo’s face drops, and he looks horrified. 

“You are the most boring person I know,” he says, instantly getting a slap on the back of his head from Geto. “Ouch!”

“Do you have any self awareness?” Geto glares at him. 

“But their life sounds so dull! No boba or movies? What the hell was sensei doing, was he keeping you locked up in a dungeon or what?!” He raises his arms to gesture at you. 

Well, it wasn’t a dungeon. Though you decide to keep your hands by your side instead of saying anything. It would probably make Gojo more aggravating. You just aggressively point at the remote instead, then at the TV. 

“Gladly,” he replies, pressing play. “Prepare to be amazed .” 

Shoko turns to look up at you from the ground, a conspiratorial look on her face. “I think this is a good time to tell you that Satoru is the biggest Digimon nerd on the entire planet. Don’t be fooled, he could ramble about the entire lore for hours.” 

You quietly laugh as Gojo gives her an offended look. “I am proud to know every single detail about Digimon, thank you very much.” 

“That is not the flex you think it is,” Geto says with a deadpan look on his face, before he takes a handful of chips into his mouth. Noticing your eyes on him, he offers the bag to you. “They’re barbecue flavoured.” 

You happily munch away on the snacks as the movie rolls, the colours completely enrapturing you. The closed captioning was the cherry on top, too; you’re able to understand everything so easily, a wide grin on your face as you follow along with the story. If only you could have that in person whenever someone talked to you, then you may not feel so isolated from everyone else. Absent-mindedly, you grab one of the pillows on the bed and hug it in your arms, hunching over as your head rests on top of it and crossing your legs. 

All of your friends seem engaged, cheering and laughing. The characters look incredibly strange, but their designs are enticing to you, and Gojo seems to love this movie, so you keep your entire attention on the screen. 

However, the weight of everything that has happened today seems to finally be catching up to your body, and you feel your eyelids droop, a muted yawn slipping past your lips. Gojo’s bed is so comfortable, the mattress soft and malleable underneath you, so you can’t help but lay your body down, half-opened eyes still trained on the screen. The colours seem to mix together eventually, and you can’t keep your eyes open, letting the comforting embrace of sleep lull you. 

You don't even feel it when you fully fall asleep. 

There’s someone shuffling the covers, trying to be as delicate as possible as to not wake you up. You’re so tired that you let them move you around, feeling your head sink into the softest pillow you’ve ever felt. Then something warm envelops your body, and you fall unconscious again. 

Halfway through the night, you wake up again, fully opening your eyes. It’s completely dark in the room, save for the blinds drawn back, the moonlight illuminating some parts of it. You’re covered by a fluffy blanket, still laying over the duvet – someone must’ve placed it over you. You see Geto and Shoko both sleeping soundly on the floor on futon mattresses, the beanbags discarded to another corner of the room. 

But, where is… 

You feel movement from behind, and cautiously turn around, seeing the back of Gojo’s head, his white hair now a blue hue from the moonlight. He seems to be asleep too, shoulders slowly moving as he breathes slowly in rhythmic patterns, shoulders relaxed, and you smile. After the long day you’ve all had, you deserve a good night’s rest. 

You go back-to-back once more with Gojo, prepared to fall back asleep. You tuck your chin into the fluffy blanket, ready to close your eyes, but your gaze lands on the nightstand next to the bed. 

The notebook and pen that you were given earlier lay on the nightstand, with Gojo’s sunglasses neatly placed on top of the open notebook. 

Three different handwritings are scribbled on the paper. One is messy, almost ridiculously so, the other is neat, and the last is incredibly precise. All three read the same thing. 

- Goodnight. 

You smile. 

And you finally let yourself fall back asleep.

#jjk x reader #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru x y/n #geto suguru x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru x you #jjk x female reader #jjk x male reader #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #jjk x gender neutral reader

[catierambles]

Alternate Instincts Ch.6

(you get two tonight because they're short)

Pairing: The Rogue’s Gallery (Geralt, Syverson, Mike, August Walker, Walter Marshall) x Stephanie Daniels (OFC)

WC 640

Warnings: ...*shrug*

After making his declaration, August pulled away from her as if she burned him, stomping back into the cabin. She didn’t go back in for a few minutes afterwards, seriously contemplating getting her shoes and walking to the access road, making her way back into town where she could call a taxi home. She’d get the rest of her things at some point, or they could throw them away, she didn’t care.

In the end, she went back inside, not really keen on the idea of the long walk and the prospect of Jordan finding her alone out in the dark. The house was quiet again and she crashed on the couch, pulling the throw blanket around herself, but not sleeping until dawn.

“So,” Stephanie started as Walter pulled away the next morning, “Am I five for five, or am I missing one for a perfect score?” He just smiled at her, leaning in and pressing a soft kiss to her lips, making her eyes close. “I guess I have the whole set, then.”

“Four Alphas, one Beta.” Geralt said, “You’re a female Alpha.”

“And to state the obvious again,” She said, opening her eyes to look at him, “I’m not a wolf.”

“Don’t matter, apparently.” Sy said, folding his arms over his chest. “We got no way of verifyin’ if your blood transfusion came from a wolf, but I don’t think any of this would have happened otherwise. You ain’t a wolf, not fully, you can’t shift, but you got somethin’ inside ya doll, somethin’ that our wolves recognize.”

“Yeah, okay,” She said, “But is it me? Or the wolf whose blood I got after my accident?”

“How old were you?” Walter asked.

“Fifteen.”

“It’s you.” Walter said, “Even if it happened last year, it’d be you. The blood you got has already been cycled through your system and replaced with your own.”

“Aren’t you, like, a completely different person cells wise every seven years?” Mike asked and Walter shrugged.

“Basically.” He said, “Seven to ten. There’s nothing left of that wolf inside you anymore, Steph, but it left a paw shaped imprint on you that our wolves can feel.”

“Second question.” She said, “Do you have any control over who your Mate is? What if they’re shitty or you’re just not attracted to them?”

“Yes and no.” Walter said, “If our wolves just pay no attention to someone, human or otherwise, then there’s no way they can be our Mate.”

“Okay…”

“But our wolves noticed you, and they recognized you, that makes you our Mate.” He said, his hand still at her low back from when he had pulled her close, his thumb moving over her t-shirt. “You can feel them, can’t you? Our wolves.”

“I felt…something.” Stephanie said, “And I saw…I think I saw your wolves. They were only split second images, but Geralt, yours is white, yeah? Like your hair?” He nodded, “Sy, is yours like a russet brown? Kinda earthy?” He nodded as well, “Augusts’ is pure black, so we’re good there, and Walter, yours is…” She paused, sighing a little through her nose, a furrow creasing her brow. “Yours is almost a dark chocolate color?”

“Exactly.” He said and she hummed. “What, love?”

“This has got to be one of the weirdest reverse harems ever.” She said.

“I understood maybe halfa that.” Sy said and she snorted.

“You know how some animes or mangas will have one kind of plain looking guy, nothing really spectacular about him, and a bunch of super hot women that all want his dick?” She asked and he nodded slowly, “That’s a harem, reverse harem is what it says on the tin.”

“One gal, buncha guys?” Sy asked and she nodded. “Well you ain't plain lookin’.”

“And, sweetcheeks, you're awesome.” Mike said and she snorted but didn't say anything.

#henry cavill #captain syverson #walter marshall #august walker #hellraiser mike #geralt of rivia #alternate instincts

[natsspammityspamspamham]

Why You Should Watch Romantic Killer

This is the new anime series that premiered on Netflix a few days ago! Before you inevitably cancel your subscriptions, give this show a go! Trust me, it'll all be worth it! (I'm personally riding on my sibling's Netflix, so I got to watch it officially!)

Edit: I think it’s important to mention since it’s in the very nature of the show that nobody is actually forced to fall in love with Anzu or vice-versa. It’s all purely consensual in terms of that even though the wacky circumstances are not.

I even made gifs for this post just to convince you, reader of this post!

Story

A high schooler named Anzu Hoshino is living the life. She has games, chocolate, and a cat named Momohiki. One day, her life is turned upside down by the devil-- I mean wizard, Riri. Riri confiscates her three most prized possessions with the ultimate ultimatum: Fall in love or live life without your most cherished commodities. Living in this awful world, Anzu swears to not fall in love out of pure spite for this arrangement and for Riri, but unfortunately, Riri has plans in store that might make things harder than they seem. (source: me)

For such a nonsensical story, it fricking works. I like it. As someone who's aroace, I feel this. I really do. I don't object romance, but I sure am not looking for it, and I would be pissed and spiteful too if my belongings were taken.

Characters

Anzu is so much fun. She has got to be my favourite reverse harem protagonist of all time. Her reactions to everything are absolutely priceless, and I love how they incorporate random references. I never thought I'd see Kazuo Umezu face incorporated into a fricking romcom! Characters like her and Bakarina make the genre worth watching (even if Bakarina is too... baka at times). I want everyone to experience this anime without me giving too much away.

The side characters are good in their own right. Sure, Riri is annoying, but that's kind of the point. They canonically don't have a gender so the "they/them" pronouns were used in the subtitles I'm pretty sure. Tsukasa is pretty cold, and I felt indifferent about him until I found out his reasoning for being like that in the last few episodes, and let me just say, whatever you're expecting, it's probably not going to be that. I've never seen a show handle that type of situation for men quite like this RANDOM ROMCOM did. It puts its male characters into situations where they don't need to be strong, and they aren't criticized for it. That right there is positive masculinity. I like it. It diverts the idea of traditional macho masculinity, especially those of archetypes in dating sims. The characters and their dynamics actually seem pretty natural for such an unnatural situation and setting.

Music

Yooo, that soundtrack fricking fits. I like it. Sure, it doesn't stand out, but with the absurdity of this series, I'd be lying if I didn't laugh when a certain string track came on. I don't even think that was the point (I think it's supposed to be when the audience swoons).

That ending theme fricking slaps harder than it needs to. I watched the opening once. Look, that opening skip button is so tempting. I only watched the ending once, but it was the background music for the voice actor interviews, so I got to know it better.

Voice acting

YOOOO, THIS IS THE PART I WANTED TO TALK ABOUT. Sure, they hired your local "ikemen" to play the "ikemen" characters, but can we talk about Rieri for a second? She makes this show good. Her and Mikako Komatsu apparently auditioned in a pair, and you can see, hear, and feel that chemistry. It is absolutely fantastic. Not many anime have had me laughing out loud, but I kid you not, I laughed a few times watching this. And yes, Umehara and Gakuto did sound good. I will give them credit where it's due. They did fulfill the ikemen part really well. Almost too well.

Art

You know what? Even though the art was pretty mediocre, I'm going to give it a pass. It's hard to make a coloured manga. And it's hard to make an anime look good. Plus, they probably spent all of the budget on Anzu's face to the point where the guys look mediocre at best and can only be given "ikemen status" based on their voices alone.

Conclusion

I get why this anime might be a bit mixed in the aroace community, but I think we should enjoy media as it's handed to us. And what was handed to us is a genuinely good show that requires zero brain cells until the last half! Zero brain cells? That's me too!

Unlike most of the shows that I watch, I will rewatch this. Without a doubt. I'm rewatching it as we speak. Even for specific moments that made me laugh.

#long post #romantic killer #romakira #rie takahashi #seiyuu #umehara yuichiro #umehara yuuichirou #kajiwara gakuto