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#and will have to crawl back to beg for forgiveness
mylittlevsoldier · 1 day
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Byler, El and the folklore love triangle.
Taylor Swift’s 7th studio album, “folklore” (along with the sister album “evermore”) has written between the lines a love triangle between one teenage boy, James and two teenage girls, Betty and Augustine.
Taylor herself has said, “Betty and James end up together but he {James} put her {Betty} through it.” 
However, the way byler and El tie into this is slightly different. 
The way the folklore love triangle works is like this, James and Betty were together and had some sort of falling out. Then, James went away for a summer and cheated on Betty with Augustine. But, after that summer, James basically ends up ghosting Augustine because he realizes that he really messed up with Betty and needs to make things right. So, he shows up to a party she was having and the kiss and makeup and start dating again and “end up together.”
Now that you know what the folklore love triangle is, I can tell you how Byler and El fits into all of this. 
How I think this works is Mike is James, Will is Betty and El is Augustine. And here is why.
James is obviously Mike because he is the one stuck between the two “girls”. The “girls” in this situation being Will and El. he can’t choose whether to be unhappy in his relationship or pursue the person he wants but hurt the girl he is with and put a target on his back. 
Will being Betty just makes the most sense. Will has been there from the very start. Even though Mike and Will obviously never canonically dated, they’ve been best friends since kindergarten. Also, Mike and Will have had SEVERAL falling outs and the one that always crawls back to Will is Mike, begging him forgiveness. 
 Now time to talk about El. Please don't get me wrong, I LOVE El. Please do not think that I am one of those bylers that hate El.I don’t. However, El is Augustine. She has simply not been there as long as Will has been. She is basically just a distraction for Mike in a romantic sense. Hear me out, Mike is using El as a shield to hide behind. So he can hide from his internalized homophobia. I am NOT saying that he thinks of El as an object. But it’s more on head, he’s thinking that he can’t possibly java feelings for Will because he has a girlfriend. And if he has a girlfriend, he can't be picked on. He can’t be a target. 
TIME FOR LYRIC ANALYSIS!!! 
Cardigan 
Cardigan is the song that tells Betty’s side of the story from her perspective. Which in this form is Will's side of the story from Will’s perspective. 
“I knew you.” 
Like I’ve said many many times Will has been there from the very beginning. Like, he was the first friend Mike ever had. 
“A friend to all is a friend to none. Chase two girls, lose the one.” 
I’m sure one of the many reasons Mike doesn’t want to break up with El and confess his feelings to Will is because he could and probably will lose both of them. Because if he breaks up with El, that’s already enough grounds for losing her not to mention the whole part about being in love with her brother. Mike could also loose Will because he could reject Mike for the sake of saving El’s feelings.
“And when I felt like I was an old cardigan under someone's bed, you put me on an said I was your favorite.” 
Mike has always been the first one to notice when anything with Will is off, the first one to find him when he’s wandered off while in an episode. He has been “the only one who cares about Will” from the start. 
“I knew you. Leaving like a father, running like water.” 
We all know that Mike runs from all of his problems and won’t stop running until he falls off the face of the Earth. But Will doesn't know why he’s running from him. 
“But I knew you’d linger like a tattooed kiss. I knew you’d haunt all of my what if’s.” 
Will knows better than anyone that the feeling of Mike lingers. It stays and it won’t go anyway and it’s bittersweet. 
“I knew you;d miss me once the thrill expired and you'd be standing in front of my front porch light.” 
Whether Will liked it or not he knew that Mike would be coming back sooner rather than later. And he wanted that way. He didn’t want to push Mike away. It would be impossible to push away the person that he has called his best friend all his life and the boy that has been with his sister for years. 
August
“‘Cause you were never mine.”
I don’t think that El is stupid, she has to know or have somewhat of a feeling.  But also, I feel like she knows that Mike would be better off with Will. And, honestly, I think she’ll be better with someone else who actually listens to what she needs. 
“I remember thinking I had you.” 
I think that in retrospect, it’s funny to El all of the things she tolerated from Mike. And I think when Mike and El break up she will realize that they simply weren't right for each other in a romantic sense. Platonic with a capital P. 
“So much for summer love and saying us” 
I genuinely think that when El and Mike broke up in season 3, they should’ve stayed broken up. They would have still been friends and still talked to each other. But if they would have broken up it would have been the best for both of them. It would have saved both of their feelings. 
Betty
“Betty, one time I was riding on my skateboard when  I passed your house. It's like I couldn't breathe.” 
I know for damn sure that Mike Wheeler could not go near that house after Will moved out. I feel like it would make him sick to his stomach when he looked at it. 
“The worst thing that I ever did was what I did to you.”
I know that Mike regrets the shit he did in Season 3. The fights, the blatant ignoring of Will to focus on El and his relationship that’s falling apart in front his eyes.
“Slept next to her but, I dreamt of you all summer long.” 
I think that Mike really started to realize that he likes Will around the end of season 2 and season 3. Which is also around the same time he starts getting more defensive towards Will. That's when it all starts going downhill. Because he is starting to realize this feeling and with El breaking up with him, he is losing things to hide behind. 
“The only thing I wanna do is make it up to you.” 
We all know that if season 2 Mike saw seasons 3 or 4 Mike, he would beat his ass. But I still think that there is a little part of Mike that still really cares about Will like season 2 Mike did.
This is a rework of something i did a really long time ago so if it seems familiar and you've been around my blog a while that's why!
people who wanted to be tagged:
@hollarious2
@artsyna
@wallywise
@lebylershipper
@ash-the-wise
@tender-emotional-music
@willbyerswatch
@hearteyes-wheeler
@paloma-ascends-into-hellfire
also! if you want to be on the normal tag list (aka you get tagged everytime i post an essay / longer post abput byler you will get tagged), please comment and let me know!
also watch out for something related to byler and folklore soon (wink wink)
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omaano · 1 year
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Big Blue joins The Mandalorian Meets Hades Project!
#I was sitting on that dialogue for a week orz don't judge me here. their love language is insults#in my defence I forgot how to draw in the past weeks and needed to fuss with this a little to reset my brain#paz vizsla#dinpaz#pazdin#the mandalorian#the mandalorian fanart#hades au#din djarin#my art#I'm actively thinking about what trinkets to assign to Paz but if I don't post it now I never will#I figured Paz would be great in the Asterius role in-game even if he has more of a theseus like shit talking kind of vibe lol XD#Like make it a Din and Grogu vs Paz and Ragnar kind of battle#where Grogu can eventually three-shot the other kid but if Din so much as brushes past Ragnar he automatically instant loses#and will have to crawl back to beg for forgiveness#I didn't have it in me to draw out a pocket Paz next to pocket Din in the bg#and I don't trust myself any to make it to the arena in hades rn either XD I haven't booted up the game in months#so I had to rely on background screenshots from when I started this project lol#just enjoy how absolutely bit and massive Paz is okay? I can fret with my perfectionism in peace over here XD#never drawing that minigun again NEVER#next one should be Bo-Katan and co as the furies because I really want to draw up Axe and Koska as well#you know whenever I'll have some free time like in July XD#I'll save my very specific Hungarian issues with the Vizsla name because I'm too tired to type out all that rant here lol#BUT WHY IS IT WRITTEN WITH A “ZS” WHEN ABSOLUTELY NOBODY CAN PRONOUNCE IT RIGHT????#just write it with a Z or an S and let me have my peace please this is driving me up the wall every single time I think about it#why name the House/Clan after a hungarian dog breed when then nobody bothers to pronounce that ZS right??#it's not like anyone would know that you're dropping a letter there whatthehell why#you're robbing me of precious hours of sleep here every second week#*cough* okay maybe you are not spared from my rant oops
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troglobite · 11 months
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was on mobile, retroactively putting this under a read more, now.
my former friend group just wrapped a two year long campaign for the dm's bday today
one of them shared abt it on instagram. her character's name was one i didn't recognize, & 2 yrs means they started it before/around the time i graduated from grad school, at which point they had already not been talking to me.
all the problems w that group--one of them was NOT the dnd campaigns themselves. they (including the dm) treated my characters like shit in a way where they had plausible deniability, yes.
but holy shit. that dm is SO GOOD. they are SO GOOD. what a first intro to ttrpgs i was lucky enough to have. &all of them were 100000% committed as players. rp, strategy, in character brainstorming & discussion--just amazing.
apart from being treated like shit, it was SO FUN.
and now. i uh. have this.
so. yeah.
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yuanology · 9 months
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m!reader fingering afab!geto while being 100% aware gojo's watching through the crack of the door so he decides to show gojo how sensitive his friend is and geto ends up squirting?? (lowkey embarrassed i wrote this, but yknow ignore it if you want😅)
what the Fuck .
gojo satoru was not a virtuous man. far from it, in fact. as a self-made god, satoru existed on a plane far above morality and whatever other human concept was created to define right and wrong. within infinity and the insurmountable power residing in it, there was only the man who wielded it and the humanity confining it.
even so, satoru still knew deep within his heart—the trembling, still beating thing residing underneath the constricts of his ribs—that he should not be doing this; that he should not be staying.
but satoru was not a virtuous man, and so he stayed.
because there, past the thin crack of the door, was his best friend—the same one he had known from childhood, the same one who had walked with him through the ins and outs of darkness—with his clothes stripped clean, thrown messily around the room, both of his feet planted flat on the bed, and his back arching off the mattress in a pleasured arch. between his legs, slick and heavy with evidence of his own debauchery, stood you—fully dressed, only the first two buttons of your collar open.
satoru knew of you. it was impossible not to. you were older than the both of them. when they were freshly entering their first year, you'd already matured where you existed in your third one. satoru himself had barely spared you a glance but in retrospect, he did remember suguru mentioning once or twice that he was training with you on the side.
fuck, satoru thought, dazed. if he had known this was what 'training' involved, he would have listened a bit better on what suguru had to say about you.
because you were holding his thighs apart, well-practiced fingers relentlessly pushing past suguru's slick folds, producing the loudest squelching noises. satoru couldn't see very well from this angle, but he could hear the sounds his best friend was making; fucked up and high-pitched, whiney in a way satoru had never heard him speak before.
suguru cried out your name, breathless and panting. "please," he was begging you, sounding close to tears. "please, no more."
you leaned in, mouth brushing over suguru's chest as you whispered your response. satoru couldn't hear you, even as his ears strained to catch a wisp of your words. but whatever it was, it must not be good because suguru is letting out a loud whine, one the turned into the strangled beginnings of a scream when satoru noticed that you had begun to pick up pace.
oh my god.
just as satoru took the first hesitant half step backwards, swaying in place, he hears your drawled out voice—cutting, brave, unyielding.
"now, where do you think you're going, satoru?"
satoru stiffened, and he realised that he wasn't the only one. suguru did, too—his body locking up as a new flush crawled across his skin. satoru had half the mind to apologise to his best friend in his head, a chant of i'msorryi'msorryi'msorryi'msuchashittyfriend looping in his head as if it could forgive him for not only being a pervert, but also for intruding on his best friend's secret.
satoru cleared his throat. he wanted to make an excuse, to apologise, but all that could tumble out of his throat was a hoarse, "um."
suguru let out a high whine at the sound of satoru's voice, as if he was spurred on by his audience. his back arched, his mouth parting as a deep sound escaped him. satoru watched, mesmerised, as the muscle on suguru's body rippled at the motion, your hands never once faltering in its ministrations.
"come here for a minute, satoru." your voice was calm, collected and almost clinical. as if you didn't practically have your entire fist buried in between suguru's slick folds, your thumb nudging at where satoru guessed must be suguru's clit if suguru's high pitched whimpers were anything to go by. "i need your opinion on something."
satoru swallowed thickly as he was drawn into the room, his motions dumb as if he was a mere puppet on your string. as he moved closer, he realised that there was more to the scene that he couldn't earlier see from his post by the door.
suguru's cunt was fucking drooling, slick dripping all over the place as his hips canted in the air as if to escape and to move closer to the pleasure. his hole would no doubt he gaping if you pulled your hand out, hungry for more. your thumb covered his clit wholly, rubbing at it mercilessly.
satoru felt himself twitching in his pants, throat working around the words stuck in his lungs.
"what do you need?" satoru asked, his voice wrecked. he would be embarrassed by it if it wasn't promptly drowned out by the sound of suguru's choked out noises.
without thinking, satoru moved a hand to rest on suguru's thigh, at the sight of his best friend in distress. he didn't realise what a great mistake it was until suguru did a full body shudder, a ragged gasp leaving him. satoru couldn't fucking breathe.
clearly, you didn't share the same sentiment because you were speaking again. "suguru wants me to stop, but i personally think he can come one more time," you said casually, as if this was a common conversation to have with just about anyone.
suguru let out a weak whimper, pathetic and desperate in a way satoru never knew him to be, at the sound of your words. you must have been trying to convince him about this for a while then.
stiffly, satoru nodded, not quite knowing how to react. "okay," he said dumbly.
he wasn't looking at you, too entranced by the sight of suguru with his legs spread wide open and his messy cunt being on full display, but he could hear the smile in your voice when you said, "well, what do you think? can he come one more time?"
satoru opened his mouth, a half-baked answer on the tip of his tongue, when he was interrupted by the sound of suguru's babbling.
"no. no, please. no more." there were tears in his eyes, dripping down his cheeks prettily, satoru noticed. suguru looked a mess, his hair a halo around his head and his hips lifted in the air as if he was nothing more than a cheap whore. satoru thought he was beautiful. "please. i can't. don't make me. please, please, please, pl—"
his words promptly turned into a loud scream, half-pained and half-pleasured, and satoru's head whipped around to look at the source of it. he swallowed thickly when his eyes dropped from suguru's face to his engorged clit, where your thumb was no longer rubbing at but rather, your earlier free hand was now gently tugging at the hood over it.
holy shit, satoru thought, his head spinning. because he just watched you pinch suguru's clit. you pinched suguru's clit. judging from the nonchalance of your gesture and the way suguru didn't try to fight back, instead canting his hips higher, this was something that you did often.
satoru was going to die. holy shit.
"shh, suguru," you reprimanded, silencing suguru's desperate sobs with a gentle pat to his thigh. suguru sniffled, but he stopped letting out those depressing sounds. "it's not you i'm talking to."
suddenly reminded that he owed you the debt of an answer, he blurted out an answer before he could think twice. "he can," satoru replied. "he's an overachiever, the dumbass. he can come another time."
suguru let out a loud sob at his answer, one that sounded a lot like betrayal.
satoru couldn't properly apologise to him, though, because your lips were curling into a sharp grin, looking like a cat who caught the canary, and satoru couldn't help but think that maybe, he was just in as big of a trouble as suguru was. maybe, with his answer, satoru had condemned not just his best friend, but himself as well.
you pulled your hand out of suguru with a lewd squelch, one that made satoru flush all the way to the roots of his hair—and oh god, he hadn't even realised he could burn up even more—and the way that suguru whimpered, both devastated and relieved by the loss, wasn't helping.
you took a step backwards, letting suguru's body drop onto the mattress. you gestured towards the now empty space between suguru's thighs. "on your knees, satoru. hands behind your back."
satoru couldn't do anything but comply. he dropped to his knees, his hands behind his back and his eyes now at level with suguru's fucked out cunt. holy shit. suguru was twitching, his pretty clit engorged and swollen from the earlier abuse and fucking pierced apparently. satoru exhaled sharply at the sight, his breath fanning across suguru's folds, and earning himself a short, aborted whine from suguru. oh my god.
satoru almost flinched when he felt your hand card through his hair, tangling your fingers into the strands as he guided your face closer to suguru's gushing pussy. "go on," you ordered him, your voice gentled by the sound of melodious laughter. "eat him."
thank you for the meal, satoru thought dazedly as his face was guided closer and closer, until he was buried in suguru's cunt and lapping up the taste of his best friend.
the response was immediate—suguru's thighs started quivering on either side of satoru's head, moving to rest on satoru's shoulders and pulling him in as if to suffocate him. satoru didn't mind, taking that as an unspoken order to start eating his best friend out like his life depended on it.
he didn't bother with hesitating or testing the waters. he licked a broad strip up the length of suguru's cunt, dipping in between his folds to gather the slick there at the centre of his tongue. satoru moaned at the taste, and he was immediately greeted by the feeling of suguru's walls squeezing around him as suguru met him with his own weak whimper.
"suguru's already sensitive." that was you again. there was notable amusement in your voice. "want me to help you make him come faster?"
satoru should say no. he wanted to stay buried in suguru's cunt forever, eating his best friend out until he was shaking all over the place. he wanted to make his best friend feel so good that he stopped being satoru's suguru and instead started becoming your suguru with satoru instead.
but he could hear his best friend's pleas even above the sound of his pounding heartbeat, the sound of suguru's suffering, and he couldn't let this keep going for much longer.
he nodded, the bridge of his nose bumping over suguru's clit in the process. suguru's thighs squeezed around him, a whimper escaping, and satoru quickly drew circles on suguru's hips in apology.
you, on the other hand, didn't seem to have the same courtesy as you told him, "suck on his clit, then open your jaw wide."
satoru obeyed even though he didn't really understand why you were telling him to do that, knowing that you likely understood suguru's body more than he did in this matter.
he pursed his lips around suguru's clit, sucking on it firmly, before he let his jaw drop open.
oh.
oh, holy fuck.
because suguru was squirting directly into his mouth, making a mess out of the lower side of his face, and satoru could only kneel there, his mouth wide open as he swallowed all of his best friend's slick juices. his head was light, and he couldn't breathe—both from the suffocation and the fact that geto suguru, his best friend, his one and only, just fucking squirted into his mouth.
when suguru finally let him free, thighs unlocking from around his head and limply falling onto the edge of the bed. satoru leaned back, unable to process what just happened, when he heard you speak again.
"don't forget your manners, suguru."
it was quiet for a moment, then he heard the small, almost shy, voice of his best friend. "thank you, satoru," suguru mumbled.
"you're welcome," satoru replied, his voice sounding fucked over. he couldn't correct himself just yet, though, his head still reeling.
he was still on his knees as he watched you rearrange suguru on the bed, peppering soft kisses onto his face and his collarbone and his chest in stark contrast to the way you had treated him earlier. there was the lull of soft conversation passing between the both of you, one that satoru didn't try being a voyeur of.
he was content with just kneeling there, his head filled with cotton and static. he didn't even bother with touching himself, still too entranced by the feeling of this all happening.
finally, your footsteps drew close to him. he tilted his head as he watched you approach him. you cupped his chin, tilting his head back to meet your gaze.
"messy," you noted, but the corners of your mouth were quirked into a smile. "but suguru's always been messy." satoru didn't have any response to that, so he simply nodded stupidly. somehow, that must be the right answer because you laughed.
you took a step back, taking a seat onto the edge of the bed. satoru's eyes tracked your movement almost curiously. he frowned when you patted your lap, as if you were expecting something from him.
"over my knee," you said. "i think fifteen should do. usually, i'd give more, but i'm assuming you're new to the scene, hm? don't forget to count."
satoru blinked dumbly. he stayed rooted on his knees. "what?" he asked hoarsely.
you raised a brow at him. "oh, satoru," you said, your voice placating. "did you really think that i was going to let you go unpunished just like that? over my knee. fifteen spanks and i want you to count."
when he still did nothing, your gaze darkened and your voice grew firm. "now, satoru."
oh, satoru thought smartly.
swallowing thickly, he moved to comply.
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monarchberrysblog · 1 month
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𝔩𝔢𝔱’𝔰 𝔪𝔞𝔨𝔢 𝔲𝔭
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18+ Miguel O’Hara x Fem! Reader
Summary: After arguing with Miguel over a touchy subject, you both come to a consensus.
Content Warning ⚠️: Soft! Dom! Miguel, Dacryphilia?, Praise (from Miguel), little nicknames (Mainly cariño and neña), and a little bit of Miguel being a complete munch. (if you don't know what that means, you're too young to read my content.) The reader is a pillow princess, overstimulation (nothing new), and unprotective P in V. (wrap it before you tap it). Miguel talks the reader through it, and Miguel cries. (I wish I were playing) (NOT PROOFREAD) (OOC MIGUEL)
Word Count: 3.1k+ words (holy shit…)
Author's Notes: Well, this occurred to me while soaking my hair in rice water 😭 But in all seriousness, here’s something sweet but smutty 😗😋 Hope you all enjoy it. If there are some plot holds, I'm sorry. I've been busy recently.
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To my girlies who have a praise kink, your secret is safe with Miguel. 💌
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It had been two weeks since you spoke to Miguel, let alone share a bed.
Miguel regretted that he yelled at you or how he compared you to Dana, his former lover. The truth was, you were far better than Dana. You were kind, patient, and understanding of his responsibilities as Spider-Man. He didn't know what came to him when he compared you, a literal angel, to one of the worst partners he'd dated beforehand.
You remained a pillar of support and unwavering patience throughout his double life. Despite the countless tasks, you never once complained. You were there to tend to his wounds at the odd night hours, offering comfort and care. During the frigid winter months in Nueva York, you never failed to have a warm and nourishing soup ready to soothe his ailing body. But now, asking him to come home soon was too much?
"Dana would never complain about me coming home late!"
"Well, I'm sorry that I'm not her!"
The same argument returned for the last few days until one instance ended it. It was the same argument managed, but he managed to end it—not as you expected.
"I should have never dated you! You are so demanding. Dana would never be like this." The second he finished, he covered his mouth with his hands quickly and backed away from you. He wanted to take back his words, but you didn't give him that advantage. Your silence felt suffocating to hear and to be around. But the sight of your lips quivering and your eyes at the brink of spilling tears. The urge to run to you and to beg for forgiveness rushed through his veins.
Before even having the opportunity, you are running away from him into your shared bedroom, like a small rabbit running away from its predator to seek shelter in a small hole in the ground.
As soon as Miguel laid eyes on the scene before him, his stomach turned, and he felt like he would be sick. It wasn't just that he had acted up—the complete lack of remorse he felt at that moment truly frightened him. Meanwhile, seeing you trying to hold back tears made the situation unbearable. But when he heard you weeping in your bedroom, the guilt he felt just got magnified.
/
The sound of thunder boomed throughout the apartment complex. Usually, this made you want to grab a soft blanket and snuggle in Miguel's arms. However, the events that led to this said otherwise. He was out in Nueva York while you were bedridden. The sensation of your pillow against your cheek buried away the melancholy and the tears that your poor pillow always caught whenever you got upset.
The now old Victorian complex now creaks and settles down every other occasion. The sound of a muffled evangelical leader seeped through the thin walls, despite the number of complaints Miguel had told the older man to turn it down. But now? The preaching from the frustrated man drowns out your sorrows as thunder continues to rumble throughout the complex.
The window sliding open greets you, snapping you out of the evangelical preacher's words. Veering over your shoulder, you see your boyfriend, Miguel, crawling back into the apartment, closing the old window, preventing the downpour from creeping in and soaking the red oak floors. The sight of him changing into his sweats and undershirt was enough to make you blush, but you ignored your instincts. The simple 'hey' he greets you made you toss and turn on the bed, ignoring him.
Your heart skipped a beat as you heard the words "Cariño, por favor" uttered from behind you. Your mind was racing, and you wondered whether to turn around and face him. The temptation to forgive and forget lingered in your heart for a week, but what he had said had left an unforgettable mark. The hurt and pain were too much to ignore, and you knew deep down that it was time to move on—even though you were too adamant for your good.
A small sigh of defeat fills the mere pregnant pause in the air as the bed creaks under the added weight on the bed before settling down. The blankets bunched around your chest and near your chin comforted you despite the smell of it being your favorite fabric softener combined with his scent. "C'mere…" He groans, grabbing you by the waist and pulling you into a spooning position. A loud whine from you wasn't the response he was expecting. He expected a giggle when he did so, but an adverse reaction said otherwise.
"Please don't be upset, cariño. I didn't mean what I said about, well—" Miguel suddenly stops. There is no other way around it. He messed up big time, and can see the hurt in your eyes.
You weren't Dana, something that Miguel always took for granted—the memory of having to deal with someone so parasitic, like a brain-eating amoeba, was emotionally draining. Even thinking about it is enough to make anyone tired. The emotional unavailability was the thing that got to him when it came to her, knowing that she wasn't waiting for him and cared about herself instead. The artificial bullshit was the only thing she desired, such as the dates and the gifts, not the emotional side of things, such as aftercare.
"What I said, it was true. You're not like Dana," A pause filled the space as you waited for him to continue. "You're not her, and it's something I adore." The simple kiss to your temple made you liquefy in his arms, but you remained silent, giving the silent treatment. "And I'm sorry about what I said; it was something I said in the heat of the moment." A nuzzle to the pillow was the only response he received, along with the low rumble of thunder.
As his lips touched your temple, a wave of gentle affection washed over you. The kisses continued to rain down softly, dotting your forehead, cheeks, and finally, your lips, like a fluttering of delicate butterfly wings. A tiny grumble left from you, not wanting to cave into his little kisses and advances that you ever so adored dearly.
The harassment of sweet kisses ended after ten minutes, and you turned your body to face Miguel. "…hey."
"Hey, cariño…" He hums, sneaking a kiss to your lips, which you allow. "…hey." You repeated, not knowing what else to say. "Hi." Miguel chuckled from the back of his throat and planted another kiss on the forehead. You stayed silent for the longest time until you looked up at him from where you rested your head on his chest. "I'm sorry too—" Miguel covered your mouth with his hand, nearly covering your entire face. "No, don't apologize. This argument was all my fault." He pulled his hand away from your lips, and a subtle sigh left.
"I shouldn't have exploded over one little thing. You rarely ask for me to come home a little sooner." His fingers combed through your hair, occasionally fixing some knots. "It shows that you care; you want me to be at home, safe and warm…" The pitter-patter of rain continued to play a steady tempo like a metronome at an adagio, not too fast, yet a bit slow. "I'm sorry for giving a poor excuse for blowing my anger at you. It was… stupid." He breathes out. "I had no reason."
You hummed and nuzzled closer to him. "I forgive you…" You mumbled, soon curling up to him for his warmth. "I should have known that asking for you to come home sooner is a bit too much—" You were cut off once again with a kiss on your lips, muffling your words. After you stopped and returned the kiss, Miguel pulled away after a moment and ruffled your hair.
"No, cariño. None of this is your fault. The blame is all on me." He rubbed the back of your head with his hand, lightly massaging the nape of your neck with his thumb. A small chuckle escaped from him. Seeing your messy hair makes him smile at the sight you gave him. Usually, you would throw a fit about how you looked, especially when the two of you went out. But now, you seemed loosened up and mellow.
He embraced you tightly, nuzzling into your neck as soon as you returned it. "I missed you so much… I don't like being mad at you," you muttered, slowly rubbing your fingertips against the nape of his neck. Then you started playing with his hair. A small smile formed on your lips as you felt his soft waves against the pads of your fingers. "Even with your suit, your hair is always soft. It never fails to surprise me."
Miguel only gave you a chuckle before pulling you to rest on his body and planting a long kiss on your lips, which you happily reciprocated. The soft, supple kisses soon evolved into something hungry and messy. The soft caress around your waist soon became handsy and coping with a feeling of being on one another. "I missed you, nena…" He mumbles in between kisses.
His kisses moved from your lips, leaving a small trail from your neck to your collarbone and, finally, on your plush lower stomach. “Nena… let me, please…” With a rush, you nodded, rubbing your thighs together slowly. "Here, let's help you out…" Usually, the man would rip your underwear off, but this time, he held back. He patted your hips lovingly, gesturing for you to raise your hips. "Raise your hips for me." You obeyed immediately, soon squirming out of your underwear and helping Miguel.
His arms hooked around your thighs, dragging your upper half down onto the mattress and having your pussy close to Miguel's lips. "Look at that, that kiss got you all wet…" Before complaining that you could feel his breath against your sensitive clit, Miguel indulged himself, devouring you slowly and slurping any remnants of your arousal. "My god, you taste so good…" He shuddered in between your folds and soon probed his tongue at your entrance. The light flicks from the wet, active muscles tease you enough for you to grasp onto the duvet underneath you and moan deep from your throat. "Oh fuck, fuck me with it…"
Hum is the only response you accumulate as you feel the wet tongue slowly tease your fluttering hole and soon feel Miguel lightly push his tongue at your fluttering hole. A small, needy moan filled the space while the wet muscle made you arch your back against the mattress. "Fuck, I want it inside…" You urgently whine.
"What do you want, cariño? Use your words, m'kay?" He muttered, slowly pulling away from your pussy and taking the time to savor you.
"I want it…"
"You want what? Please tell me what you want." He cooed to you and rubbed his thumbs against your thighs. The light breathing against your clit and entrance didn't help your case. Your high was making it nearly impossible to get on top of him and to take regime.
"I want your cock… please."
After a few moments of your demands and feeling his soft breathing against your pussy, he slowly slid you back down onto the bed, laying you down on the bed gently. "C'mere…" Miguel whispers sweetly before he gently holds you close and slowly rubs his aching length against your folds. The sensation of the fabric of his sweats rubbing against your bare skin was enough for you to moan at the feeling. "Wait, this feels…" He paused and looked down at you. "Are we okay? I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable." You could hear the sheer panic in his voice, but you only nodded, giving him the green light.
Reaching down, your hands worked quickly, and you pulled on his sweats and boxers. A low groan emits from Miguel, feeling his dick get freed from the restrictive clothing. "You wanna hump on my cock like a good girl?" He mumbles out heavily, slowly lowering himself and allowing his length to rub in between your folds slowly. "Oh god, slowly. Slowly, cariño…" He urgently breathes out, slowly letting his bulbous tip rub against your clit. The burning yet slippery sensation slowly builds up. The slow, sensual rubs are enough for more arousal to build up, making it feel like a slippery slide thanks to your arousal and Miguel's precum. "Mierda…"
"Do you want me to fuck you, and do you want my babies?"
You nodded immediately, squirming in underneath him on the mattress.
"C'mon, grab it and slide it in. You know how to do it."
It had been weeks since you'd had sex with Miguel, especially since the argument about Dana; it almost had been a month without any intimate contact. You slowly reached for his cock and lightly tapped his tip against your entrance, a little nervous about how it would be a tight fit. "Miguel?" You slowly whined, still holding onto his aching cock. "Do you need any help?" He hums, slowly getting himself comfortable. "It's been a while…"
He nods before he grabs his cock and helps you slowly push himself in. "Shit!" He suddenly hisses out, barely letting his tip inside of you while you claw at his arms and groan. "You are tight…" You looked down and saw that your poor partner barely kept it together. "Give me a moment, nena…" He murmurs out quietly, slowly thrusting his tip at your entrance.
"Just the tip?" You sweetly suggested, looking down again, seeing how desperately he wanted his length to disappear by simply slowly pumping into you. "Maybe… Just the tip…" Miguel nods, slowly letting his tip probe at your entrance.
/
The sounds of labored breathing and moans filled the apartment, drowning out the evangelical preacher from next door, along with the angry bangs from the other neighbors. "I want you…" You breathed out, slowly feeling him sink in his length until his happy trail brushed against your clit. "Then you can have me. I'm yours to do as you please." His voice was like warm molasses, a sweet honey running down with sweet venom.
Another shout from the older man next door causes Miguel to roll his eyes as he slowly thrusts into you, allowing his mushroom tip to brush against your cervix. "Shut up!" Miguel yelled out to the angry neighbor and returned his focus to you. "Can we go a little faster?" You meekly suggested while slowly moving on his length. "Ay, cariño…"
The sensation of his length twitching inside of you is enough to have the man nearly cave in and thrust into your fluttering walls to end the slow overstimulation on his tip. "Easy, easy…" He breathed out weakly, slowly grasping onto your hips. His talons digging into your flesh felt like tiny needles lightly prickling at your thumb while sewing. "You're a little tight, and it's been a hot minute." His breathy groan filled the space immediately, slowly moving in and out of your fluttering hole. Not listening to his demands, you began to move your hips down and slid with ease, allowing your arousal to cream on his length. "Let's piss the neighbor off."
It was a sick, twisted fantasy to anger your neighbors, especially with the fact that y'all had thin walls in the time-old apartment that could drive anyone crazy. Mainly because the older neighbors around y'all are rowdy and complain about every little noise you or Miguel produced, most the sound of a blender or even if some music played a little too loud to their liking. But to you and him, it was time to get back at them and be as noisy as possible.
His pace was languid yet deep, taking his time while letting out low, rough grunts. “You're doing well, cariño.” You respond weakly by letting out a mewl and only let your fluttering wall convey the message more. “I'm trying…” You whined, bringing him to your embrace. “Can you go a little faster?” You plead, feeling the slow, delicious burn from his girth. “You sure? I don't want to hurt you.” He nuzzled close to your neck, leaving tiny kisses.
“I can handle it.” You pant, slowly sink yourself into him, pushing yourself down on him. The veins running down his length brushed against your clit deliciously, with a loud mewl filling in the apartment. “Please, please, please.” You plead out loud. “I'm on birth control, please.”
“I want you to—” One quick thrust ended your words. A sudden scream of pleasure filled the space, feeling Miguel’s merciless tempo. “Oh fuck! Yes! Keep it at that!” You demanded while being underneath him. “Baby, I'm a little—”
The wanton moans filled the space while the banging of the neighbor on your apartment walls made this nothing but filthy. “Shut up!” Your hoarse demands filled the space while you banged your fist against the wall. His unrelenting tempo continued, feeling that burn you ever so missed desperately.
The wet, squelching noise made the scene more lewd for Miguel, along with your shared bed creaking underneath the two of you, barely holding on with whatever strength it could conjure up. You are underneath him while he can feel your arousal coat his length along with his precum. The pace felt nothing but filthy and desperate. The feeling of tiny water droplets landed on your cheeks, causing you to wipe them off before you look up and see your partner, your usual aloof, stoic partner, shedding tears before you. The rough pace continued as you clawed at his back, leaving faint, red marks before you felt your rippling finish come to you and embraced Miguel tightly. “Please, I'm close…”
With one single thrust, you felt him twitch inside you before putting his heavy load in you.
“You okay?” You peeped out to him while feeling him slowly slide out and wiping away his tears. “Yes, I'm fine. Just overstimulated myself a little.” Slowly, he pulls out, earning a tiny groan from you and immediately pulls you into a warm embrace. “I didn't hurt you, did I?” You shook your head no, taking in shallow breaths. “No, I'm okay. Just a little sore.” You mumble quietly. Little sore was an understatement…
“C’mere…” He pants out, pulls you into a warm embrace, and plants soft, lazy kisses on your temple and cheeks. “You did so good…” The lazy, slow presses of his body against you felt like a weighted blanket, along with his chest heaving against yours. His hands roamed your body, allowing his fingers to trace light patterns and memorize you. “What do you want for dinner, cariño? Do you want me to prepare you something or do you want that one pizza you like on Main Street?” He murmurs from your shoulder, not wanting to get off of you. An incomprehensive mumble is the only thing that responds to him.
“Pizza it is, then.”
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daytaker · 4 months
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The Gang React to You Ignoring Them
Lucifer
"How childish. They'll have forgotten by the end of the day."
By the end of the day, however, Lucifer has reached his fucking limit. But his pride will not only prevent him from begging you to knock it off-- it will prevent him from even acknowledging in your presence that he is remotely bothered.
He probably goes to vent to Diavolo -- that is to say, visit him for tea and offhandedly comment about your immaturity for pulling such a stunt, knowing that he'll just contact you and beg for him.
Mammon
"Oh no you don't! MC! MC! MC! MC! MC! Hey! MC! MC! Hey! MC!"
He will follow you wherever you go. At first he thinks he's hilarious, being an absolute pain in the ass, but the longer it goes on, the more dejected he gets. His energy level tanks and soon he's just lying on top of the nearest piece of furniture and whining for you to stop it.
If you manage to get him off of you long enough to escape him, he will just text you.
Mammon: MC Mammon: MC Mammon: Hey MC Mammon: Hey Mammon: MC
If you block him, he will just text someone else until that person becomes so annoyed that THEY beg you to stop.
When you finally give in, he pretends like he didn't even care that much. It was just a little joke between pals, right? Haha!
Leviathan
"So this is how easy it is for you to just toss me aside like a piece of garbage."
Levi will take this extremely personally. Depending on why you're ignoring him, he might blame himself and enter a spiral of self-hate. He'll hole up in his room, refusing to leave until you finally come in and either apologize or forgive him, whichever is appropriate.
He'll spend a few moody minutes acting like it's too late for that, but soon he'll be on the verge of tears, making you to swear on a copy of The Tale of the Seven Lords that you will never pull that kind of thing again.
Satan
"Really? Is this what it's come to? You understand how pathetic this makes you look, don't you?"
Like Lucifer, he won't be too bothered at first, assuming you'll get over things relatively soon. But if nothing has changed within an hour or two, he'll start to get testy. He'll send a text, sit in the same room as you and stare a hole through your head, and if you're still ignoring him after a while of that, he'll storm up to his room.
Depending on how emotionally charged the incident was that led to you ignoring him, he will be more or less capable of fending off an explosion of temper. Most likely, any acknowledgement you toss his way will ease the tension, so it might be a good idea to just shoot him a text asking him not to destroy the house, please.
Asmodeus
"But it's impossible to ignore me! You can't look away from a face like mine! See?"
I don't think you can ignore Asmo. Being the literal Avatar of Lust with powers to charm and an intense need to be admired and adored, he simply exudes an aura that demands attention. You should probably come up with a different strategy of attack.
Beelzebub
"...Are you mad at me?"
Why would you do that to him? How could you be so cruel?
If you did do it, it would probably confuse and sadden him. Confusion and sorrow both make him feel hungry, so he will go ahead and start eating his feelings within an hour of the silent treatment. Even if you're content to allow this to continue, the other six demons in the house aren't, and you will ultimately have no choice but to make up with Beel.
Belphegor
belphie.exe has stopped responding
Considering you'd already forgiven him for the whole murder thing, he can't comprehend how you've become so mad at him that you'd go so far as to give him the cold shoulder. He won't know how to respond at first, but he will quickly become an angry, sulky ball curled up under the blankets on his bed. If it takes more than a few hours for you to come crawling back to him, things will start to change. Belphie will return to the common areas of the house, acting mostly the same as usual, and he will not spare you a second glance. Even if you stop ignoring him, well, two can play this game, and Belphie is absolutely petty enough to drag this one out.
After a day or two of you trying to talk to him, he'll relent. He'll feel kind of guilty, having worked through most of his anger while ignoring you. He'll probably text you a lot for the next day or two, just to ease some of his anxieties.
Diavolo
"I don't understand."
You can't do that. That's illegal. Next character.
Barbatos
"Hehe. What a troublemaker."
Barbatos likes it when you ignore him sometimes.
Barbatos will not change his behavior at all, ever. You could spend the rest of your life ignoring him, and he would simply accept it as one of those unfortunate circumstances life sometimes throws his way. He would prefer it if things didn't go down that way, though. Basically, he'll let you come to him whenever you've gotten over whatever it is you're upset about. What a king.
Solomon
"Hmm? Are you sure that's a good idea?"
Solomon will act pretty much the same as usual around you too. He'll point out that you're ignoring him to whoever else happens to be around and bemoan the situation, but he won't actively appeal to you. Instead, he'll orchestrate a scenario that traps you in a situation where he is the only person you can go to for help. As soon as you do that, he'll act as if nothing ever happened. If you resume the silent treatment, well, he can always come up with another scenario.
Are you still sure it's a good idea?
Simeon
"I didn't realize you were so upset. I'm sorry (that/if) I hurt you."
Simeon will either immediately understand why you are doing this, in which case he will apologize (using "that") or he will have absolutely no idea what's going on, and he'll still apologize (using "if") to be on the safe side.
If you don't show any signs of breaking, he'll enlist Luke's help to make you an apology dessert of some sort. And how can you stay mad at him when he's offering you angel food cake with such a sad expression?
Luke
😧😠😣🥺😢
Wh- Whaaa...?! How dare you ignore him! That's so mean! It must be all the demonic influences rubbing off on you! Stop it! Stop it or he's going to tell Simeon!
And then he'll go and tell Simeon. Simeon will probably tell him to just wait until you've calmed down. If he thinks you're being unreasonable, though, he'll probably have a talk with you himself. Really? Pulling the silent treatment on an actual child? Sure, he's a millennium old, but he's still a child.
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obsessiveimpulses · 4 months
Text
Sleepless Nights
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summary: yuuta cant stop thinking about you
cw: masturbation, somnophilia , choking, pervert yuuta , cumplay?
an: srry if u couldn't tell by now i clearly have a thing for guys masturbating (is that even a thing .. well is now ig)
☆°•
Everyone had always wondered why Yuuta looked so tired all the time. His big puppy eyes were slightly swollen with deep purple bags resting right beneath his lower lashes.
Everyone always wondered... but you knew why. And the reason? It was much more sinister than the simple lie he gave, "Oh... my mind is always racing before bed."
It was late at night, and you were already fast asleep nestled close to Yuuta. His body just grazed yours as the summer heat lingered in the air.
The heat was no bother for Yuuta though - his thoughts were somewhere else. His lie of "too many things to think about to sleep" was sort of true. He just couldn't stop thinking about fucking you.
You laid there so beautiful to him, your mouth was ajar a little bit of drool seeped out. It made him so happy that no one else got to see this cute vulnerable side of you just him, only him. His eyes gazed down your body starting from your soft lips and followed down your neck. Marks from last night claiming your body trailed down your neck and finally ended in your collarbones.
His eyes trailed further following the curve of your back leading right down to your soft plush ass. He sighed. His view was blocked by your soft cotton panties, and his eyes glistened with hunger as he noticed the lace trimming. He imagined himself crawling over on top of you. Slowly peeling your panties down to reveal your bare butt he would massage your shiny skin with his mouth. His wet spit would remain giving you a glossy look.
Before he knew it, he was softly rutting against the mattress. Small moans poured from his lips. His teeth pierced his bottom lip as he tried to keep quiet; a metallic taste filled his mouth.
Trying to not be loud he covered his mouth with his hand. He wouldn't want to wake his princess from her slumber - no matter how much he'd desire to plow down deep into you. He would never want to corrupt you with his perversion. His ruts became rougher as he became more desperate for your touch. He imagined it was your thighs he was rutting into.
How strange it felt craving for your lust when you were right there. But he couldn't ever tell you how much of a pervert he was. How hard his cock got from just looking at your soft thighs. How much precum spilled from his cock just thinking about the way your hair framed your face as you slept. How could he have such perverted thoughts while you slept peacefully next to him?
He rutted against the bed his dark blue briefs covering his pale cock adding a layer of friction between himself and the rough mattress. His face contorted, furrowing his eyebrows in pleasure, if only you could see him now. How lewd he must look with his hand covering his mouth as he grinded himself against the soft mattress.
The thrill of getting caught rushed into his head. If only you opened your eyes now to see the lewd image beside you. How submissive he must look so desperate for you. You'd make him beg, beg for forgiveness, beg for you to fuck him.
As he grew closer to the edge, his ruts became rougher and harder, almost as though he was trying to fuck a hole into the mattress. He wanted his flesh against your flesh like a fucking animal.
The hand covering his mouth stifled his moans. Although it made it hard to breathe, he enjoyed it. The slight dizzy feeling it gave him made him feel euphoric as his orgasm drew closer. He thought to himself; perhaps he should do this to you so you could feel as good as him. He imagined his long cold fingers around your neck, watching as your face turned red in pleasure. The fabric against his cock became too much for him as the warm feeling grew into a tingle going up the spine of his cock.
His cock throbbed with the visceral overwhelming building of pressure. He wanted, no, needed to cum right now as his eyes rested upon your lips. The world dampened around him as recurring jolts of pleasure ran in and out of his cock. His moans became loud despite the muffling of his hand as he cried out for sweet release. His cock twitched as streams of white seeped out; it began staining his briefs. Beautiful whines and moans sang from his lips, only to become muffled by his hand clasping his face. He continued softly humping the bed, riding out his orgasm as his cock softened.
Slowly, he removed his hand from his mouth. Small pants escaped his mouth followed by winces due to his sensitive cock being brushed against the mattress from his movements. He reached down and scooped his cum up onto his fingers. Proudly, he inspected his cum drenched fingers before lifting them up to your mouth. He gently pushed the tips of his fingers into your mouth. Instinctively, you softly sucked his fingers. Fuck... even unconsciously you knew how to please Yuuta.
His cock hardened once again. Fuck no wonder I can't sleep, he thought.
And so with the bed shaking, the bitter taste in your mouth in the mornings, and the constant morning woods Yuuta had, how couldn't you know?
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lymtw · 10 days
Text
When Toji finds out that you get yourself off when he's not around, he's blatantly offended. You recognize jealousy on Toji's face when you see it. It's not always pretty, but sometimes you think it's the most beautiful way you'll ever see him. He looks at you with those eyes. Those merciless, yet disarming, green eyes. You've told him before that they are one of your greatest weaknesses, and since then he uses them to his advantage at any given chance.
Shiu called Toji to notify him about a last minute mission, and though you begged him to stay, he reminded you of how this could be the one that brings both of you out of the struggle to make ends meet.
You were blinded by the amount of time you had spent with him. A week straight, no interruptions until Shiu called. It was one of the best weeks of your life, and that only further devastated you when you couldn't talk him out of leaving.
To make things worse, he wasn't able to reconcile with you and comfort you before he left. Shiu was rushing him, but all he could think about was how you turned your back to him, not even wanting to look at him before he left.
He answered Shiu's phone call for three seconds, an enraged, "I'm going. Jesus, fuck," before hitting the end call button. He stands at your shared bedroom doorway for a few seconds more seconds, still only getting a look at the back of your head. "I'll be back, princess. Gonna make it up to you, so wait up for me."
The mission wasn't difficult at all. It was so easy that he even attempted to contact you while he scouted the close quartered area. You didn't pick up a single one of the six calls he made, letting them all go straight to voicemail each time. It was irritating. He wanted to hear your voice, he wanted you to listen to him, he wanted to tell you that he was rushing this mission so that he could sprint home to you.
Once he got his dirty work done, he tried your phone again, and again, but you were still letting his calls go to voicemail. So, he decided to text you.
Babe, answer.
I know you're upset, but i'm on my way home now
Baby, please
You read his messages, sighing before throwing your phone across the room. He never says no to Shiu when it's about a job. You've accepted this before, but after spending a whole uninterrupted week with Toji, feeling like things would remain that way for longer than they did, it was hard to remember that life was gonna merge back in again at some point. Your vacation hours would run out and you would have to go back to work, and Toji would be hired to hunt someone down again. It was just disheartening to find out that it would happen so soon, and that Toji would jump back into routine so quickly.
You see one of his shirts at the end of the bed and reach for it. It was flipped inside out and balled up, so you know it was worn by him. Just holding it in your lap, you can smell Toji's scent. You bring it up to your nose, and your heart begins to race. Toji wore this. He's not there with you, so that's the closest you'll get to him until he's physically in front of you again.
You bury your face into the rolled up shirt, inhaling deeply. The scent really works at pushing you to forgive him for leaving. His scent was debiliating. It brought vulnerability to a moment where it was just you on the bed you share with your man. You were missing him and wishing he weren't so obligated to his work. It stirred up feelings that couldn't be contained.
In this whirlwind of emotions, you couldn't reject the feeling that blazed in you the most. Your need for him. Your desire to have him all over you, with those hands that don't quit when you waver between feeling like you've had enough, and wanting more of him than ever.
You crawl back to the top of the bed, Toji's shirt dragging on the sheets beneath your palms. Your shorts are peeled off and tossed to the floor. You grab his pillow from his side of the bed, slipping it between your thighs before laying down flat on your stomach. You spread his shirt out on your pillow, and lay your face on it, allowing your mind to fill with thoughts of Toji. You used this internal shrine to fuel the languid roll of your hips against the pillow.
Toji called one more time. He was two minutes away from the house. Your phone is on silent mode, still on the floor on the other side of the room. Besides, you were too distracted to see your phone screen light up, anyway.
"We're literally here, already. Quit stressing," Shiu says when he sees Toji scoff after putting his phone down, a deadpan expression on the former's face. The second the van stops, Toji hops out, and without another word to Shiu, he slams the door shut.
The door barges open and slams shut behind him. Had you not been in your blissful haze, you would have been concerned. Toji's footsteps echo on the hardwood floor as he looks around in search of you. You're not on the couch, you aren't in the kitchen. Where the hell could you be?
"Ma," Toji calls, walking through the hallway. He peeks into the bathroom, not digging further because the light was off. He hears heavy breathing nearby, so he keeps going down the hall. It's one of two doors. Luckily, he chooses the right one.
He slowly creaks the door open, his shoulders dropping immediately at the sight on the bed. He sighs in awe, leaning against the doorframe.
Your hips rolled a little faster against the pillow now, your arms curled tightly around the pillow for your head. Your face remained buried in Toji's shirt, your moans muffled as you gnawed on the black fabric. You were so close to unraveling, you could feel it building up in your lower abdomen.
Toji really liked the little arch you made everytime you pulled back and then dragged forward to get the longest amount of friction between your legs. He could see your body trembling, and your moans were getting louder.
"Oh, Toji..."
The monster in his pants came to life, prominently bulging through his pants.
"F-Fuck... fuck me, please," you gasped, keeping your rhythm but grinding harder against the pillow. "Oh fuck, oh fuck..." you moaned, higher in pitch as you reached the brink of orgasm. You dragged your panty clad cunt across the pillow one more time before completely falling apart on it. Cries of pleasure shamelessly filled the room as you continued to shakily rut against the pillow through your peak. You whimpered, your abdomen quivering with your shuddered breaths as you kept grinding.
Toji's boxers were drenched with precum, just from watching you go wild on a pillow. You were thinking of him while he was gone. You wanted him. You called his name while you got yourself off to his scent on a shirt he wore yesterday, and now you're just there. A breathless, panting, needy, beautiful mess.
Toji straightens his posture and enters the room. He sees your phone on the floor and picks it up, the screen lighting to show his most recent missed calls. His footsteps pull you out of your climactic trance, a starry-eyed look on your face when you see him approach the bed.
"Couldn't pick up the phone even once?" He presents your phone to you. "Too busy fucking yourself on my pillow?"
"Toji..." you start, waved off immediately by his hand.
"Heard my name in there a couple times, princess. Thought you were upset with me." His eyes rake down your body, focusing on the way your thighs clamp around his pillow. He sees the wet spot on the front of your panties, and for some reason feels envy begin to bubble up in his stomach. His hand reaches for the elastic band of your underwear, simply feeling the material that hugs your hips.
"I was," you mumble.
"Uh-huh. So, instead of waiting for me like the perfect angel I thought you were, you made yourself cum on a pillow?" He scoffs. "Don't know about you, but that's borderline selfish to me." He notices the involuntary pout on your face, your guilty eyes trying to hold eye contact while he scolds you. "I make you cum. I fuck you until your damn claws are digging into my back. Tell me, doll, and be brutally honest, for me. How is it not enough?"
"I missed you..." you say, a last resort. All you can do is back yourself up now.
He laughs in disbelief. You really were ruled by your own desire. "Try again, doll."
"I needed you, Toji, and the closest thing to your presence was your pillow and a stupid shirt you wore yesterday. We have a dirty clothes hamper, you know?" You point at the tall basket in the corner of the room. "Maybe this wouldn't have happened if you had thrown it in there."
"Show me," he says, a twisted grin on his face.
"What are you talking about? Show you what?"
He pulls the pillow through your thighs so that you're centered on it again. "Show me how much you missed me." He sits in front of you, his hands resting on your hips. "Show me how this flimsy replacement for me, made you lose your shit."
You sit there, flustered by his silence as he watches you, waiting patiently for his hands to get gentle friction from your skin.
"Oh, you need some help winding up? I was so sure you were good at this, seeing as though you made yourself spill, but, guess not." He looks down at the front of your panties. The wet patch was growing with no movement from you at all. This made his ego sky rocket, but also reminded him of how unpredictable you could be. "I'm not gonna hold your hand the whole time, baby. You're supposed to be putting on a show for me."
His grip on your hips tightens and he starts assisting you with rolling your hips against the pillow. He watches your face, a bright shade flourishing on your cheeks when you make eye contact with him. It was like he had a spotlight on you, and he was expecting you to perform well for him under the harsh light.
You let out a shaky breath, your palms settling on his thighs. Your head hung low, hiding the bashful look of bliss on your face. It was a gesture that Toji did not approve of.
"Let me look at you," he says, still maneuvering your hips in a constant rhythm. You lift you head but turn away from him. "Keep those eyes on me." He manually turns your head, one hand releasing your hip in favor of forcing you to look at him. His hand returns to its spot when he has your glossy eyes on his. "I'm right in front of you. There's nothing over there that demands your attention, so focus."
"Toji," you whine, humiliation flooding your body.
"Gonna let go in a few seconds, so you better fall into some sort of rhythm, doll."
You try to pretend like he's not there, but it's hard to do so when he's staring straight into your soul. Watching every expression you make, watching every tremble of your lips, every swipe of your tongue. You feel total vulnerability.
His hands are off and you stutter for a second before picking up again.
"There you go," Toji mutters. You took control, and ground yourself harder against the pillow.
"Toji, touch me, please." You pull your shirt off, baring more of yourself to Toji. His lidded eyes take in the newly exposed skin. He can see your breasts rising and falling now as you breathe, and he can't deny how badly he wants to hold them. He gives in, his hands going to your back to unclip your bra. His hands immediately grope your boobs, testing the malleability like he always does. They're just so perfect.
"Aren't you a sight... You just have to be so fuckin' pretty all the time, don't you?" He rolls your nipples with his thumbs, taking in the way you shudder at the contact. "Fuck, it's hard to stay mad when you look like that."
You feel that familiar ache begin to form again, when the roll of your hips starts leaving a lingering pleasure behind.
"You're about to cum again, aren't you?" Toji asks, knowing the answer. His eyes are narrowed on you, his dick twitching even if his blood is boiling at the thought of you enjoying this so much. You're doing those little arches again where you pull back and your stomach is quivering every time you drag yourself back forward.
"Mhm..." your nails dig into Toji's thighs, using them as leverage to facilitate your movement even more. "Toji, can I cum?" you ask, your submissive tendencies coming out right on time, as usual. You like handing over control to Toji, even if it means you don't get to cum when you're seconds away from being an absolute mess. "Toji, can I, please?"
How can he deny you when you've complied with what he asked you to do? How can he turn you down when you're so driven with pleasure that you look like you're about to cry just from slowing down for a couple seconds, awaiting his response?
"Only if you do it on my hand." His hands still your hips, holding you down firmly to stop your movement completely.
"What?" Your cunt aches from holding back. It's pulsing, craving the return of stimulation.
Toji's hand slides into the front of your underwear, cupping your slickened folds. "Do it on my hand," he repeats.
"O-Okay," you comply, once again. You start rocking against his hand, the roughness of his skin adding more friction to your sensitive core. You were bound to snap any second now.
"God, you're so wet, ma. All for me?"
"Mhm... all for you, Toji," you whimper. "Gonna..." you gasp. "Oh, fuck-"
Toji devours your expression and the shaky pressure of your silkiness against his hand. His pupils are enormous, ridding him of almost all the green in his eyes. He loves the sounds you make, he loves that you adjusted to the spotlight he put on you and gave him the best show, but most of all, he loves that this was all the product of you just missing him.
You're left breathing shakily, your head hung low, and your eyes lidded with exhaustion.
"Did it feel the same?" Toji's voice brings you back. His hand retracts from your underwear, and he gets a good look at what you left behind on him, wiping it off on his shirt. It'll be removed soon enough, anyway.
"Not at all." You giggle. You look at him, your hands coming up to cup his cheeks. "You're irreplaceable, baby. Inanimate objects don't do it for me like you do."
He chuckles. Your voice is adorable, all quiet yet still able to communicate your reassuring words.
"I need a nap," you mumble, retrieving your shirt from the end of the bed.
"Wanna shower with me, instead?"
Your attention directs towards him like a homing bolt of lightning. He gives you a smug grin, and you know exactly what he's thinking.
"Spare me some company and one of those massages you're so good at giving, yeah?"
You give him a deadpan expression, almost refuting him until he hit you at another point where he knew you were weak.
"Please, mama?"
680 notes · View notes
i-drop-level-one-loot · 7 months
Text
🎃 Good doggy
Begging CW: Stepping, Dom!Reader with whiny, sub!male
(Reader) looked down at the man on his hands and knees before them with mock disgust. They had to bite the inside of their cheek to prevent themselves from smiling at the pitiful little man kissing their foot while crying. They had known for a long time that their neighbor had been watching them, breaking into their apartment to steal their underwear and play with himself on their bed, but they never said anything. It was cute, the way he smiled so shyly at them, pulling at his pants to try to hide his boner from them.
They had waited in hiding, deciding it was finally time to catch him in the act. But it was so difficult pretending to be angry with him when seeing him whine on the floor was turning (Reader) on.
"What did you think was going to happen, Jackson?" (Reader) snarled, praying that they weren't blushing. He flinched, accidentally squeezing (Reader's) foot.
"I-I just-" He stuttered through his weeping, rubbing the foot on his cheek. "I'm so sorry!"
This was better than (Reader) could have hoped for. "Hmmm... I don't think you are." They heaved a deep sigh, turning their head away from him.
"What?" Large teary green eyes looked up at (Reader) pleading. "I am! I am sorry!"
"Sorry for what?" They kicked him back lightly, watching with glee as he fell onto his ass, exposing the tent in his pants. Jackson yelped, trying to cover himself in embarrassment.
"I'm sorry for breaking into your apartment!"
(Reader) fought to hold back a smirk as they pressed their bare foot past his hands and onto his erection. "Is that all you're sorry for? You're not sorry for being a pathetic little pervert?"
His thighs jolted under (Reader's) sole, bucking ever so slightly into their touch. "I'm- I'm sorry for being a pervert!"
The pressure grew heavier as (Reader) leaned more of their weight forward, rubbing his shaft through his pants. "I don't think you are... I think you like this."
(Reader) removed their foot, making the wreck cry harder. "I'm sorry! Please forgive me!" They ignored him, sitting on their bed as he crawled over towards them, eyes continuously flickering towards (Reader's) crotch. "Please forgive me!"
From their new position, (Reader) couldn't hold back their joy any longer, touching his dick so softly with their toes that he whimpered, shuffling even closer to grind (Reader's) foot into his pants. "Do you like this? You perv?"
"Yes!" His words were almost unintelligible through his panting.
"Hmmm." (Reader) pretending to think while stroking his cock. "You know, I've always wanted a dog.. maybe if you ask me really nicely, I'll consider taking you in."
Jackson gasped, smiling stupidly up at (Reader) "Please! Please make me your dog! I'll be a good boy for you, please I'll do such a good job!"
(Reader) added pressure, rubbing faster as Jackson's panting became uneven. "I don't know... doesn't sound like you really want it."
"No! I want it, please, please make me your dog, I want to be your dog, please!" He grabbed their leg with both hands, licking their knee as he grew closer to his climax.
"Pfft! Ew! Are you about to cum? Are you going to jizz on my foot, just from me stepping on your dick?" (Reader) loudly teased, raising their voice as he shrunk in shame, but they still kept their foot moving against his cock.
"I'm sorry! Yes, I'm gonna- I'm gonna-!" He couldn't finish, eyes fluttering shut as he came. (Reader) revelled in feeling his warm fluid through his pants, dampening their foot.
Jackson looked worried, sad that he came so quickly. He finally got (Reader's) attention but he ruined it by climaxing too early! But when he finally got the courage to look up at (Reader's) face, he was shocked to see a deep blush across their content smile, causing his love stricken heart to hammer in his chest so hard he thought it was going to burst.
"Good doggy..."
1K notes · View notes
ajortga · 7 days
Text
can you keep a secret?
pairing: wednesday addams x fem reader
summary: you miss your girlfriend who's recently transferred to nevermore academy. your persistent whining is able to transfer you to nevermore and cling onto her the whole time there.
word count: 5k+
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based off request!
-
W and R are in a relationship, W transfers to Nevermore. W and R may not have anything in common, but they do on some things, like R being an outcast as well (a werewolf ), R insists their parents that they transfer to Nevermore too. After they successfully did, R immediately finds W, the outcast's curious to what'll happen to R (obvi doesn't know they knew each other).. Basically every student in Nevermore sees them together everyday. One, asks W who R is to W, she answers truthfully, "They're My Lover." everything and everyone just goes crazy
-
“Cara mia, we live next to each other,” Wednesday says softly, brushing your hair back as you braid her black silky hair.
You hum, a little sad, finishing to braid her two tiny braids that hung low to her chest.
“But I won’t see you in school, baby." A huff escapes your lips as your girlfriend sighs, giving up on trying to coax your madness.
“Or at all,” you add, “you’ll have a damn dorm with some girl that you’ve never seen before. It’s not fair.”
The raven-haired girl rolls her eyes, “I’ll cut off my heart with the sharpest knife I know if I ever started to love someone more than you,” Wednesday suggests, trying to make you feel better.
She cups your cheeks as you refuse to speak and rubs her thumb gently around the pink tint covering them. A way to always make you feel better. Yet she knows better because you certainly don’t look better.
“We’re both outcasts Weds. My stupid parents just won’t allow me to transfer because they think Nevermore is weird. Yet they went to school there. That's not fair."
“They’re just trying to protect you. I'd feel that way too for our daughter if Nevermore had hurt me. If someone ever hurt you, they’re death will be a long one. Sufferable and miserable. So bad that they’ll beg for forgiveness before they bleed out.”
Usually Wednesday would expect you to smile and giggle, but you’re not. Why does your girlfriend have to leave you?
“Can’t you stay?” You ask, voice tiny.
“As much as I sneak out, Mother has already informed everyone including your parents not to let me stay the night. They are used to my.. Tactics per say.”
Your sharp nails from your growth as a soon to be wolfed out werewolf emerges, clawing the wood you attached to your wall when this kind of stuff happens.
"I can sneak you in and I'll even build you a door in my closet," you suggest.
"No, Y/N."
"What if we install a life-like robot and I'll sneak out with you?"
"No."
You huff angrily, slashing the wood.
Wednesday firmly takes your hand, and your hand almost scratches her, yet it stops as you don’t want to hurt her, “Stop that.”
“No,” you state, tugging your hand away and sinking them into the wood, so hard that a big ass dent forms.
Your girlfriend sighs, rolling her eyes as she sweeps her bangs away from her eyes, “I don’t know what you want me to do bambina. Maybe I could.. Sneak you away from this horrid place. But at what cost? Nevermore seems strange. Not strange in a way I’d want to discover in mysteries though.”
She sees the way you sigh, disappointed. Upset.
“You’ll be there for a whole school year, it’s far.”
“I’ll bring my typewriter. Distance won’t change that, swear on my cemetery. I’ll write you letters at night, secretly take the principal's mailbox and send them to you. Or I’ll threaten Thing in my backpack and crawl till he can give it to you.” Wednesday isn’t kidding, her stare is cold, well usually it was cold, but not towards you. “He can suffer in thorns, I’ll stitch him up, just as long as.. You’ll write back?”
You nod, yet you don’t care about the letters, you care about her.
“You’ll send them?”
“Yes.”
“Every night?”
“Yes.”
“What if you begin to stop when you feel like it’s not working anymore?”
“I won’t Y/N.”
“You can’t know that.”
“Oh, but I do.”
"No you don't, you don't know the future."
"But I do know that I won't stop sending my letters. I can feel it."
You stop scratching the wood and you bury yourself on Wednesday, breathing in her scent as you try to comfort yourself. Yet even when the lights are off, your heart is pounding, feeling alone.
-
A tear falls from your cheek as you watch Lurch stuff his trunk, Wednesday talking to her mother and father, while hesitantly hugging Pugsley. 
“You’ll have so much fun.” Morticia says, with a smile, kissing her cheek and staining it slightly with her black lipstick.
“Define fun as boring and a punishment, sure,” Wednesday stiffly responds, yet softens as she looks at you. She takes her mother’s hand off her shoulder and approaches you.
“If you cry, it'll be raining all day. And you don't want it to be all gloomy for you? I don't want my socks wet. A poem, along with two pages written in a small font. One to express my day, and one to express that stupid love so you can sleep peacefully at night with nightmares.” Wednesday says, stopping for a moment, “sweet nightmares,” she adds.
You nod, yet your tear stained cheeks aren’t really helping, she reaches up and wipes it off with her thumb. Then let you hug her, you immediately bury yourself into her and she sighs.
“I’ll be thinking of you, till every grain of sand can be counted.”
You watch her approach the car, then slip in. She has the window scroll down, and you look at her. As the car engine roars, you bite your lip. And slowly watch it wheel away. Slowly jogging till it’s out of sight.
-
It’s been two weeks. And sure enough, Wednesday has kept her promise. She’s sent you letters you’ve kept in your drawer, they’re never repetitive, but always show you love. You like it like that, knowing that it isn’t a chore for her to write letters for you. If anything, they’ve lengthened in size as she's sent more and more.
It makes you miss her a little more. You have to hug your life-sized stuffed animal at night that she sprayed her perfume on. She also left half a bottle on your counter, just in case it runs out. Though it takes longer to sleep, it makes you feel a little better knowing there was something that was like a piece of her beside you.
Thing has visited you, and you know that little guy has a huge memory. You lost the letter you were going to hand Thing, and though you were a little sad, he moved his fingers and you realized you could speak to him for hours and he would tell Wednesday every detail. She had even wrote to you,
~
I owe Thing a thank you, yet he can be provoking at times. He had communicated to me for an hour, thirty minutes, and thirty two seconds about your day. I always wonder what secrets lay in the Addams Family. Yet I’m not quite comprehending why Thing has a big memory space.
Nonetheless, I think about you everyday. My roommate, Enid, has been unpleasant with her interesting taste of fashion and colors. It’s distracting. In a negative way. You’re distracting in a way where I can’t take my eyes off your enticing figure Y/N. Weems had bothered me the whole day, smothered me with questions and made sure I was doing fine. No wonder why mother got along with her so much. Those two are like the same person just one with smothered ink. But, something that sparked my particular interest was that you can dorm with two other people. Thing had told me that there was an accident at your school. If you’d like, which I’d appreciate, could ask your mother about transferring, say it’s dangerous. You aren’t a late wolfer, but convince her possibly that Nevermore can increase your chances. Wish you were here, I hate Mr. Tuesday. That white bunny is always staring at me during my typing time. But I can tolerate him a bit more, knowing you gifted it to me. You love Mr. Tuesday, so I appreciate your gesture. It’s not often I get visions, but they’ve almost made me want to experience them more. I see you in them, baking. Writing to me. It makes me almost happy.
Enid keeps trying to get to know me, she’s a strange soul, but she’s a werewolf, like you. You two are nothing alike, yet I think you two would get along a bit too much. Except you don’t blast random glitter pop music during the night. During my WRITING TIME. Even thinking about it rots my brain. But I miss you cariño. Sleep tight, I’ve left at least 300 things to hide in your house and you’ll never expect where they are. But everyone is special, it’ll make you at least smile a little when I tell you each night. Today’s item is snuck inside your bed, I used Mother’s chainsaw to cut through the wood, it’s a tiny version of Mr. Tuesday. I asked Thing the other day to sneak it in that spot and he sanded the wood back in. It should be a sort of door. But I crocheted it during my free time, there are times where I can’t think during my writing time. That is an understatement, but I only think of you. But I’m hoping you can enjoy it for today.
Love you, sleep cozily,
Weds
-
You smile as you look under your bed, now noticing the small outline from Wednesday’s chainsaw and you open the little compartment to see another crocheted white bunny of Mr. Tuesday. You nuzzle it and place it on your desk. You love him. You even spent a few minutes grabbing white yarn and attaching it to your tote bag.
You think about what Wednesday said, someone had gotten hurt in your school from being stabbed by a senior that was drunk. Obviously he didn’t mean it. But you had seen how anxious your mom got when she found out the news.
It was 11:23PM, and your mom’s room light was illuminated from the hallway. You get out of bed, ruffle your hair, and approach her room. Your only thought is Wednesday.
-
Before you could even ask, you already noticed her holding a black card, the logo of Nevermore Academy apparent. It said in bolded letters, 1965 Jericho’s long lasting Nevermore Academy. One for outcasts.
“Mom?” You said, your voice slowly quiet, and she looked up at you, waving you over.
“Hi honey,” she replies, “I’ve been thinking about the accident at your school. And I know you don’t like that place that much. And as much as I feel like I should keep you there. Your safety is important to me.”
Your excitement grows, you want to have that wide smile off your face.
“So?...” You question, wondering if she was saying what you were thinking she meant.
“And you keep bringing Wednesday up. So me and Morticia talked, and I talked with your father. We’re going to send you to Nevermore, but only if you want to. As long as you write to us every end of the week and call us. We want our little wolf to meet ones like her. It’s not often you find ones like us here.”
You nod.
“Yes!”
You didn't even think it would be that easy.
-
As soon as you get the news you squeal and call Wednesday early in the morning. She responds almost quickly, her voice on the other line, “What brings you to call me this early Y/N?”
“I’m transferring to Nevermore!” You say, you were much more excited but your tired voice betrayed you.
There’s a pause, then a small, “What?”
“I’m coming!”
A laugh and you can almost feel your girlfriend smiling with a toothy grin with her ear pressed to the phone.
“I knew your parents would let you go somehow,” she says, voice more excited, yet anyone else would not notice but you.
You can hear some rustling, “I’m going to ask Weems if you can dorm with me. I can kick Enid out for all I care, yet she isn’t horrible. Just, I’d rather spend it with you if she doesn’t allow a three dorm. Maybe I shouldn’t bring up a three dorm at all.”
“Thing, go back home and ask Father if Lurch can drive Y/N to Nevermore. Actually, include that if he won’t ask, I’ll shave his head off. Also make sure that he sprays two times of her favorite perfume, have her favorite sour candy ready, her headphones, her books, and tell him to pack some melon milk for her too. And her cow stuffie. Make sure he’s playing the playlist she made that’s saved in the car.”
There is a pause, and she makes a small, ‘oh oh’
“Baby,” Wednesday doesn’t call you that much, but when she does you’re over the moon. It usually shows that she’s happy. Really happy, yet her voice is still soft and composed, “I installed a door behind your clothes in your closet, guess we’ll unwrap the 300 presents when we go home. But I got another Mr. Tuesday there, he has some sort of costume on.” 
She pauses, you hear a random girl jumping up and down in the background, squealing about something as your girlfriend groans and presses her ear back into her phone, sending Enid an annoyed glare, “Pack your stuff, I’ll be waiting. I might as well cut my ears off if Enid won’t stop blabbing her mouth off.” You can tell that Wednesday turns her head to face her new roommate, she says louder, since Enid couldn’t hear her talking to you, “Better yet, slice her mouth off.” Then Enid’s squeals die down.
You grin through the phone as you grab out another version of Mr. Tuesday with a mushroom hat, you hug him tight.
The doorbell rings and you hear your mom open it, putting Wednesday on speaker phone.
“I’m almost done packing.”
“Y/N, honey. Mrs. Addams requests to see you,” your mother’s voice echoes through the hallway and you glance at the door.
You don’t know how Wednesday can hear it but she does, “I’m taking into conclusion that she received my message. Oh yes, she replied with those stupid icons. Yet it is one of a thorny rose and a gravestone.”
“Coming!” You stuff your bags, “Be right back.”
-
You almost choke as Morticia brings you into her embrace, hugging her back with an easing gentleness.
“Hello little one,” her soft voice says, the one you find comfort in as much as you do Wednesday’s. She gently rubs your hair, “I informed Lurch for your arrival, he’s outside whenever you’ll be ready dear. I’m so glad you decided to willingly join Nevermore. It has been a place that holds many memories. It’s where I met Gomez and fell in love. Maybe Wednesday and you can find the secrets in it. Go on journeys with her. Dig some graves, set them on fire."
It weird you out, but you smile, nodding, “To spend it with Wednesday is all I need.”
“You’re a special soul, a pure heart I can handle. Now go,” she waves you away, “Don’t keep him waiting for long.”
You give her one last grin and look over your shoulder before turning the corner.
-
After hanging up on Wednesday when you finish packing all your bags, your mother and father hug you goodbye and give you your favorite cranberry juice. Sweet.
It’s cozy in the Addams car, comfortingly with no talk, just the music Wednesday requested (forced) Lurch to play that lingers in your playlist. You feel like a butler with all the requests Wednesday smothered him with.
An hour passes and you can see the way the clouds slightly come into view, then you see the environment change as a sign that reads, “Welcome to Jericho! A Town of History”
Then, you finally see the academy in view, and Lurch arrives right in front, before taking your bags and guiding you to Principal Weems.
“It is my honor to have you here at Nevermore. This school has history, and where you’ll certainly grow,” her smile is wide, a little too welcoming it gets a little scary.
You just give small mumbles and nods, “Well, Morticia called me this morning and I quickly looked through your demographics. It also isn’t a coincidence that you have straight A’s. A 4.3 GPA. Many extracurriculars, and of course, you’re a werewolf. I see.”
“It is no surprise also that you had gone to the same school as another student who just enrolled, Morticia’s daughter, Wednesday. She sure is.. Different. But nonetheless talented. She had asked me yesterday afternoon if it was possible to have a dorm of three, and I’m assuming that you have been planning to dorm with her for the rest of the semester?”
She reads your mind, you immediately nod your head up and down, “Yes.”
“Well, most of the 3 dorms have been occupied, but her and Enid seem to have a slow relationship. I’ll have her in my office today, but by the end of the night or tomorrow morning I’ll give you my answer.” Weems scribbles on a note, writes some address and a name, “You’ll be rooming with Yoko, sound okay?”
You nod.
“Alright, I’ll call Enid up, for your guide.”
“..Guide?”
She nods, “Of course, we have many classes you can do, and people you can meet. She knows this place well, and I know that she’ll open up your shell.”
-
As Wednesday watches Enid leave, a soft grin forms on her face as she unties Thing from the random crocheted pink jacket Enid made for him.
Her eyes scan Enid as the door closes, then she turns to him, “I’m expecting Y/N is here. I’ve crocheted a questionable amount of Mr. Tuesdays.” She informs, “I shouldn’t have admitted that,” Wednesday sighs, as she pulls out the drawer next to her to reveal at least 40 assorted sizes of the same bunny. There were some in outfits, wigs. Wednesday almost finds it as therapeutic as her writing time. She crochets them whenever Enid leaves their dorm.
Thing smacks his head, and the braided girl glares at him, “Don’t judge me, I can cut off your fingers any time,” she threatens, seeing the way Thing surrendered with two fingers up in the air.
Then he moves around his fingers and does random hand movements.
“You think I’d follow Enid and try to make conversation with Y/N so much that Enid will get suspicious? You’d really think I’d do that?” 
Thing agrees.
“Then, you know me too well, let’s go.”
-
“Enid, glad you’re- Wednesday? It seems like you’ve tagged along,” Weems adds as she almost seems surprised, looking at her. If anything, the look in her eye is cautious.
“Yes,” Wednesday responds, trying to avoid the way your eyes almost smile as you look at her, but if anyone else were to look at you, they wouldn’t notice. “I’ve decided to accompany Enid, this is much more exciting than some other events at Nevermore,” she adds again, not entirely rude.
You sit in the middle while Wednesday takes the only left seat available, scooches her chair closer. Her hand rubs over yours after meeting under the covers of Weem’s desk. She takes note of how a small smile creeps on your face when Weem talks because of that.
“This is actually so awesome,” the blonde cheers next to you, making you turn your head and turn it, confused.
“We’re both werewolves silly! We should dorm 3 together! Wait, are there even any 3 dorms left?” When the principal shakes her head no, Enid sighs, “Then Wednesday can pair with Yoko. Actually, she barely even talks to Yoko, let alone handle her better than she’ll be able to handle me.”
You blink, glance at Wednesday for a moment and she shakes her head frantically.
“What if I dorm with her?”
The question leaves everyone silent, well everyone is surprised but Wednesday.
“You’d want to room with Wednesday while Enid rooms with Yoko?”
There's a lingering silence as you look around, “Why not? I'd like to get to know her better,” you lie. The most you want to do is get to talk to your girlfriend again.
"Oh. You don't want to, you know, get to know Wednesday before actually having to dorm with her?"
"Nope."
"Well, then that’s settled for your dorm. I’ll have to file Enid for a dorm change. But I’d like to ask if that is okay for both Wednesday and Enid.”
“Yes,” your girlfriend immediately responds, then coughs a little to cover up her excitement that’s masked behind her calm demeanor. “I can take a break from someone that is the complete opposite of me.
“I’d be happy to dorm with Yoko, at least I can have my music playing at night and my glitter-”
“My ears are bleeding Enid, don’t mention that word you just said.”
“Glitter?” Enid questions.
“No.”
You giggle from your girlfriend’s demeanor, squeezing her hand under the desk.
-
“This is Ophiela Hall! You don’t need to find your people here, you can make plenty of friends in other groups, but you have a group of werewolves! And what makes it even better is that we haven’t wolfed out!” Enid jumps up and down and you watch her legs bounce up and down, up and down. She’s like a whole party.
People give you two small looks, both you and Wednesday can tell they’re almost surprised she tagged along with someone whos new. It makes you smile a little.
Your girlfriend notices them whispering about you. Not anything bad, you seem like the sweetest person out of them all, but they’re whispering about the two of you. Even Bianca gives you a cautious look, but you’re too distracted to know what their saying as Enid keeps talking to you and dragging you along. Wednesday follows like a puppy.
“Enid, hey.” A boy speaks up, and you turn around at the new voice, he’s wearing blue and a beanie. The same tie everyone is wearing.
“Oh hi Ajax, this is Y/N. She’s new and I’m showing her around.”
A glare is thrown at Ajax as your girlfriend exhales. You give a small wave, “Hi.”
“You a werewolf too?”
You nod, seeing the way his hat kind of turns sideways, poking some peeking out snakes back into it. That’s scary.
The bell rings and you look around, confused, Enid grabs the paper you stuck in your bag.
“Oh, hey! Your next class is with Wednesday and I, it’s just plant anatomy with Thornhill. Come on.”
-
Somehow Wednesday gets Xaiver to move away from her, so now you’re sitting next to her.
“What the hell is this class?”
“Thornhill just talks about plants. The only entertaining aspect of this is that I like seeing Bianca fail to beat me. Though that goes in almost everything.”
The auburn hair girl turns around, with a wide smile and fairly big glasses for the size of her head.
“It’s a pleasure to have a new student, I’m glad to have you in our third period class Y/N.”
You embarrassingly smile, everyone looking at you, some with smiles and some with just small glances. 
“Could you give us the formula on how to turn this plant into a…” Thornhill goes on and you look at the plant, it seems it’s a Ghost Orchid.
You answer almost immediately, and Wednesday nudges you with her foot to almost say a ‘yay.’
Bianca stares at you as Thronhill clasps her hands together, “Exactly, you know your plants well. I’m sure you’ll excel here. Today we’ll have a change of assignments. It’ll be a challenge for duos against other duos and whoever answers first, and correctly for that fact, will earn a point till all the questions run out. Sound easy enough? Alright, let me get my cards ready.”
A knowing smirk grows in between you two, “We’ll win in no time,” Wednesday states, you look at the duos. It’s you and her, Enid and Yoko, Bianca and Divina, and other people you have no clue about, including Xaiver.
The game starts and before Thornhill can even get to the end of the question, you and Wednesday slap the bell, giving out the answer.
“Quick hands,” Xavier mumbles.
“That’s correct! Great job girls.”
The game goes on, and you’re tied with Bianca’s team. The silence can be cut with a knife as the two duos anticipately wait for the question. As Thornhill begins to read out the question, it takes you two a while to know the answer. Bianca and Divina seem stuck.
It’s several moments before the learning in your past catches up to you, slamming the bell and saying out the answer.
“Correct once again! You two win, great job! You can grab a succulent or stick to two pieces of candy that’s probably expired at the end of class.”
You and Wednesday high-five and to say the least, everyone is surprised because the braided-hair girl never let’s anyone touch her.
-
Weeks have past, and you’ve never been happier. Giving ideas for Wednesday’s stories that even she never thought about, helping her crochet more Mr. Tuesdays, so much that she had thing steal a laundry basket from Weem’s office, and even braid her hair and put black ribbons. She’s grateful to have you at Nevermore, her stories have been expanding because of you.
Your always stuck to her side, fencing playfully with her, even willing to go out in the woods with her. But she hasn’t went out since your arrival, knowing that you wouldn’t want to leave her side, and she certainly doesn’t want you getting hurt.
Even you and her worked together designing a matching cat on your black and white pajamas.
It’s fun when you two get to talk about life when you two are in your dorms, even better when you two are on the balcony and watching the stars. Wednesday plays the cello while you sing. She loves that she has someone that she puts her closed-off personality aside for.
“I love it, you look so pretty with bows baby,” you say, tying the ribbon.
“You look pretty with bows or without cara mia.” 
“Shut ‘p,” you say, smacking her arm lightly as she wraps her arms around you and rubs your hair.
It’s not long till Weems announce that it’s time for lunch.
Wednesday gets up, signalling you to come with her, but when you don’t, she comes back to sit next to you.
“I’m just looking for my necklace, you can go ahead, it won’t take long, promise.”
She sighs, and nods for a moment, then points at Thing, “Help her.”
Thing waves his hands as she blows a soft air kiss and closes the door.
-
It’s sprinkling a little bit when Wednesday is outside.
“How does Wednesday act so non-hazardous with Y/N? It’s honestly impressive.”
“That’s not impressive, how the hell does she not smack her or give her glares? Do you not see the way her eyes actually look normal when she looks at her? Not even normal, they’re gentle! Plus she was the first to go run and get a bandaid when Y/N accidentally got a paper cut.”
It’s like they summoned the girl, who’s holding a plate of her lunch.
Enid smiles and Wednesday sits down, looking at everyone.
“Are you seriously speaking about me?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“We want to know why the hell you are actually sweet with Y/N.”
“You could’ve used any word besides sweet.”
“Baby-like?”
“Even worse.”
“Don’t dodge the question,” Bianca adds, somehow now being in this conversation, “You killed the biggest spider that was crawling to her, for her.”
“She doesn’t like spiders. Who wouldn’t use not being afraid of spiders to protect someone who is?”
Bianca blinks, then wrinkles her nose, “If it was me you’d certainly let it bite me.”
“Well that’s different.”
Everyone at the table groans, “Exactly!”
“What did I tell you?”
“The only person you’d not let it bite is Y/N, we just want to know why.”
“I’m protecting her because she’s my girlfriend.”
Everyone turns their head to her, “What?”
Enid slams her fists to the table, “I fucking knew it. I knew it! Ajax, you owe me five dollars. I CALLED IT.”
“The Wednesday Addams actually has a girlfriend?”
“Why didn’t we catch on?”
“They’re kinda cute together- don’t even speak or she’ll actually cut your head off if you say cute.”
Everyone is arguing with each other, going crazy. But by the time they cool down and look at where Wednesday was sitting, her seat is empty.
Then everyone looks around and sees her draping her black jacket over your tiny figure, she pulls you closer to her chest as you hold onto her. (Let’s say she’s atleast 4 inches taller than 5’1 in this.) You tug her big jacket over your shoulders as you hug her. She holds onto you and guides you to the table, kissing your forehead and brushing your damp hair.
Even when she comes back, she bends down and takes the butterfly that’s resting on your hair and places it on your hand. “I heard somewhere that if a butterfly lands on you, it means that they see you as a beautiful flower.” 
“I never heard that before.”
“I know, I made that up.”
Everyone starts screaming again, making your girlfriend and your heads snap at them.
“Look at them!”
“Aw! So cute!”
“I want to say this is disgusting but they’ll be my roman empire soon enough.”
You turn back to her, seeing her eyes soften, almost happily, "You told them?”
“I didn’t know why they didn’t conclude to that in the beginning.”
Bianca groans, rolling her eyes as everyone is screaming, then Xavier chimes in. "Back to that spider scenario. I definitely think Wednesday would kill it for me."
You glare at him, clinging onto your girlfriend a little more like a koala. She rubs your back as you tighten your arms around her.
"Your sense of self-love is filled with stupidity. I'd kill the spiders that are harmless to you and leave the ones that are most venomous and ugly looking for people like you."
Xavier goes quiet, making a defeated grunt.
Everyone does their little, 'awws' again. You turn to her, now that everyone knows about your status.
“At least we can kiss in the hallways?”
“Maybe save that for the dorms.”
“Can we kiss right now?”
Wednesday’s eyebrows lift up, and she sighs, turning you away from the group and giving you a light kiss, as your lips press together, she nudges a small Mr. Tuesday now with inverted colors, a black bunny. They're both holding hearts and have a star over their head.
"Now Mr. Tuesday has a Mr. Wednesday," she says softly, tucking her black jacket tighter around you as you continue hugging her.
"And Miss. Y/L/N has a Miss. Addams."
696 notes · View notes
nochukoo97 · 8 months
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venom
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pairing: boxer!jungkook x boxer!reader
summary: after a nasty breakup with your ex, who was a boxer, the person who introduced you to the sport, you decided to make life easier for yourself and switch clubs. little did you know that your club leader, also known as ‘venom’ in the ring, would eventually spark your interest. no matter how much jungkook interests you, you can’t bear to risk another failed relationship, you’re still hurt and traumatised from the inside. but will jungkook manage to crawl his way into your heart?
warnings: MINORS DNI! dom!jk, sub!oc, oral (f&m), fingering, unprotected sx (pls dont), kissing, oc is a little whiny heh, i hope thats all
wc: 10k+
teaser | masterlist
When your ex-boyfriend, Jaehyun, had introduced you into boxing, you immediately fell in love with the sport. In fact, Jaehyun had personally trained you, he had been a boxer for many years, and he had been the one who had taught you all your skills and techniques you know today.
Little did you know this relationship that seemed perfect, both of you being interested in boxing, would turn upside down. Jaehyun had been the sweetest, most charming guy at the beginning of your relationship, but the moment you had turned 20, he had begun tormenting you, using boxing as an excuse to purposefully hit you a little harder than needed, to push you to the ground and belittle you.
The man who you once thought would be your forever partner, became your biggest nightmare. He became unrecognisable to you, making your insecurities shoot through the roof, degrading you to the lowest of the lowest.
Hell, you didn’t know how you managed to put through months of that treatment, before one day you eventually snapped after spotting Jaehyun with another girl from the club, Jisan, at the gym late at night kissing.
It broke your heart, but at the same time you knew that it would be dumb to stay on and even try to forgive him, no matter how many times he had begged at your feet to stay, claiming he would change and be a better boyfriend to you.
That’s how you find yourself trailing behind Jimin, the man who had offered you to join their club.
You researched beforehand, Jeon Jungkook, leader of the club, ring name ‘Venom’, he’s won too many competitions to count.
“Don’t worry, most of the guys here are pretty friendly, there’s another girl here too, so you won’t be alone either,” The man you follow tells you, he had introduced himself to you, Jimin, saying that he was one of the members of the club.
“That’s nice to hear, I didn’t really have good company at my old club,” You let a smile out, Jimin seemed friendly and approachable, your new start was already looking good in your eyes.
“Anyways, this is where we train,” He leads you through a glass door, the familiar sounds of heavy breathing and sand bags being punched immediately reach your ears, it’s almost satisfying, being back in boxing after a month of break.
“And that’s our team leader over there, we call him Venom in the ring,” He chuckles, head nodding towards the man going at the black sandbag.
You watch as he goes at the punching bag, eyes narrowed, focused, his black gloves attack the bag, the gold lettering on the gloves spells out his nickname, ‘Venom’.
“Jeon! New girl is here!” He calls out, making the man halt, turning to look at the both of you. Jimin’s words attracted the other members, there were a few who rushed to you before the team leader did.
“Damn, we got a pretty one,” The guy nearest to you nudgest your arm playfully, as you blink, unsure of how to react.
“Tae, stop it,” Jimin nudges the guy back, “Sorry, he’s usually like that, he doesn’t have the intention to make you uncomfortable,” he scratches the back of his neck.
“Leave her alone, go back to what you were doing,” You spot Jungkook pushing the guys away, grumbling as he approaches you.
Or should you not call him Jungkook? Maybe it was disrespectful.
“___?” You whip your head up to meet his gaze as he calls you, more in a questioning sort of way.
“Yes,”
“I’ve heard good stuff about you,” His stance towers over you, it makes you a little wary of his already brooding aura.
“I want to see her skills,” He tells Jimin, who nods in response.
“You ready? This is your first test to see if you can truly survive here, I’m not gonna go easy on you,” He warns you, tightening the strap on his gloves.
“I’m ready,” You walk over to your bag sitting at the corner of the room, fetching your gloves as you quickly wrap your hands and put the gloves on.
-
To say Jungkook was impressed, was an understatement. Hell, he did not expect you to dodge and hit every attack so precisely.
“You did well, good job,” He tells you, removing his gloves and watching as you smile back at him, panting slightly as you bow.
“What on earth did I just hear,” Another guy deadpans from the side, jaw dropping to the ground.
“There’s no way Jeon just let out a praise,” He gasps, “Come on man, in my six years of knowing you you’ve never complimented me once!”
“Whatever,” Jungkook grumbles back at him.
You make eye contact with Jimin, who also seems amused at the team leader’s behaviour. Was he not acting normal? Why was everyone so amazed by his words?
“I gotta say, ___, that was impressive, I’m Yoongi,” Another man, around the same height as Jimin, approaches you, extending a hand. You politely bow, shaking his hand.
It seems like joining this club wasn’t so bad after all, it seemed like a welcoming place with good support already.
-
unknown number: hi __, this is jungkook, jimin passed me your number.
unknown number: come early tmr, you’re gonna meet your trainer.
You pick up your phone, the screen lighting up caught your attention.
you: okay, thanks.
The next day you quickly head towards the club, grabbing a quick breakfast along the way. Before you push open the glass door to the entrance, you spot Jungkook training with another man whom you had not seen previously.
“___, come,” He calls out to you, heaving when he abruptly stops punching the mitts, “This is Woojae, he’s my personal trainer and I want you to train with him,”
WHAT?. Jungkook’s personal trainer?
“I’ve told him not to go easy on you, just because you’re a girl doesn’t mean you’re weaker than anyone else here, am I right?” He leans closer, whispering into your ear as his hand clasps around your arm.
“Yes,” You almost shudder at the close proximity, you’ve never felt this intimidated by someone before. To be honest, you were proud of your strong aura that you carried while boxing, not afraid to spar with even the burliest of team mates. Yet somehow Jungkook, or Venom, had a different effect on you.
“Hi ___, nice to meet you,” Woojae, quickly shrugs off the mitt on his hand, shaking your hand.
“I’ll finish up here with Jeon and then I’ll analyse your performance ‘kay?” He tells you, while putting the mitts back on, you nod your head, taking a seat on the floor to watch while wrapping up your hands.
You noticed Jungkook’s eyes had a different glint in it whenever he began boxing. The way his eyes would narrow, focused on whatever was in front of him, the grunts he let out after releasing a strong punch, his heavy breathing filling the air.
It was fascinating to you, having always dreamt of being in Jungkook’s position. But being a female in a male dominated sport was hard, if you were lucky, you had competitions with other females. But the majority of them were still males. Yet you didn’t feel this was a disadvantage, after all you still managed to win.
“___, your turn,” Woojae calls you out, as you quickly get up, getting onto the mat.
The first few minutes of sparring was not bad, it definitely wasn’t easy considering you could tell Woojae was not going easy on you. His attacks back at you were much more complicated, it often took you by surprise.
WACK.
You don’t even realise what’s happening before Woojae’s glove comes into contact with your left cheek.
A groan emits from your throat, hand reaching up to touch the area with your gloves.
“Gonna give up? Or are you gonna continue to fight like a strong fighter?” Woojae nudges you a little harshly with his glove, he definitely was not going easy on you.
But still, who were you to give up? You’ve been hit multiple times before, but this time it simply felt different. With your team leader’s gaze trained on you.
You quickly get back into your starting position, attacking back at Woojae. With each punch you throw, your ponytail swishes slightly, a pant comes out from your mouth.
Jungkook notices the change in your demeanour, you have this determined look in your eyes, hands up and ready to fight back. It’s impressive to him.
You weren’t about to give up so easily. You were gonna prove you are worthy of being in this club.
-
“___, out of my many years of knowing Jeon, he’s never once offered anyone else his personal trainer,” Mingyu, another team member whom you had recently gotten to know, whispers as he gazes to where Jungkook was, punching a sandbag.
“I’m sure it’s nothing,” You wave him off, chuckling, “Maybe he just wants to toughen me up with training so he assigned the same trainer?”
“Nah, I think you’re different. The other girl here, Yubin, she’s currently on holiday, but she practically begged Jeon to train with her and his trainer,” He starts, “It’s like a miracle to see him like this,”
Hoseok, you came to learnt who was also another teammate, leans in to join your conversation, “Yeah, and just warning you, shes like fucking delusional about him, our leader gets so annoyed whenever she clings onto him,” He laughs, as you nod, eyebrows slightly raised at the new information.
“___, I’ll start with you today,” Woojae comes up to you, reaching out a hand to pull you up from where you were sitting on the floor.
“Have fun!” Hoseok calls out, as you laugh at him, turning back to trail behind your trainer.
-
You had been told today was a match between Jungkook and someone else from a neighbouring team,
“That guy’s name is Eunwoo, he used to be best friends with Jeon, but they’re aren’t on the best of terms,” Jimin tells you, pointing towards the other guy in the ring, “Jeon’s in for a lot of money,”
Another thing you learnt was that Jungkook and Eunwoo had fought before, and after Jungkook had won, Eunwoo insisted on a rematch immediately.
The match was held at your club’s gym, people from different clubs surrounded the ring, chatters filled the room and both guys prepared in their own rooms. It seemed to be a huge thing, considering even though it was only two clubs fighting, there were at least five others who came to watch.
“Okay! Settle down, we’re starting now,” The announcer spoke through the microphone, catching everyone’s attention as the noise reduced to mutters.
“First, we have the one and only ‘Venom’, the previous champion!” Jungkook enters the ring, with Namjoon by his side, another team member. His eyes are trained on his opponent, who was currently outside the ring, preparing to enter.
“Next, it’s Eunwoo, who challenged Jeon back for a rematch, he seems prepared today,” Eunwoo enters the ring with his cornerman, chest puffed out as he approaches Jungkook.
“Nice to see you again Jeon, hope you’ll enjoy the taste of defeat today,” He sneers, coming a little too close to Jungkook for his liking.
“Fuck off, you better watch what you say,” Jungkook grits his teeth, his black mouth guard showing as he shoves Eunwoo back to remain a distance.
The crowd releases a series of ‘oohs’ and ‘damns’, as Namjoon pulls Jungkook a little further back, in an attempt to call him down.
The bell rings, both cornermen step aside, as Jungkook and Eunwoo approach each other, both their fists kept up.
Eunwoo launches the first attack, jabbing at Jungkook who blocks all the attacks, his fists remain up, not faltering once.
But throughout, Jungkook doesn’t attack back at Eunwoo, he only dodges and defends all his attacks, making the crowd confused.
“What the hell is Jeon doing? I placed so much fucking money on that guy, is he wimping out?”
“What’s going on with Venom today? I’ve never seen him like this,”
“Jeon, are you being a pussy? Gonna lose that ‘Venom’ title?” Eunwoo provokes, but Jungkook doesn’t respond, he only glares at him, dodging another punch.
“Why is he not attacking back?” You turn to Jimin, who’s sitting beside you.
“He’s using a new technique, but it’s surprising, he’s never practiced this before and it’s usually discouraged,” Jimin turns to face you, “He’s basically trying to tire Eunwoo out and conserve his energy till the last minute,”
Your mouth opens to form an ‘o’, nodding your head as you watch Eunwoo continuously provoke Jungkook.
“Come on! Are you sure you’re just gonna put your fucking hands up and dodge my attacks? Why? Too fucking weak to even attack back, what happened to you Jeon?” Eunwoo spits in his face, laughing while pulling his hand down to jab Jungkook in the rib, making him falter back and groan.
“Shit, he got hit pretty hard there,” Hoseok mutters beside you.
“Or is it because of that new girl in your club huh? Fancy her? Maybe when I win, I’ll ask the pretty girl to come and kiss me on the cheek, huh? Would you like that?” You stiffen at the mention, some people amongst the crowd letting out reactions and turning their gaze to you.
That was all it took for Jungkook to growl back at Eunwoo, deciding he was done playing games with the guy and waiting for him to tire out.
Jungkook quickly regains his composure, this time he isn’t waiting to tire the guy out anymore, instead he throws full-blown jabs back at Eunwoo, grunting harshly.
“Fuck! That really got you going huh?” Eunwoo attempts to dodge, slowly losing his energy.
“Eunwoo! What the fuck are you doing! Wake up!” His coach yells from the crowd, watching as Eunwoo takes a hit from your team leader.
Jungkook sends a jab to Eunwoo’s rib, causing him to falter, his glove makes contact with Eunwoo’s jaw, watching as the guy falls to the floor, groaning.
“Are you gonna get up? Or accept that I’ll always win you,” Jungkook sneers, launching another jab to the guy’s rib.
“10, 9, 8, 7,” The announcer begins counting down into the mic, Eunwoo attempts to get back up, but groans as his arms give way and fall back to the ground.
“Awww, gonna accept defeat again like the last time?” Jungkook leans down, pressing his glove into Eunwoo’s torso.
“Fuck- Off,” Eunwoo grunts, using all the strength he has left to push Jungkook off him.
“6, 5, 4,” The cheers begin filling the room, “3, 2, 1!”
“Venom takes the championship again! Jungkook wins the match!” The announcer lifts Jungkook’s arm up, signaling victory.
The room bursts into cheers and Jungkook smirks, turning to face his club. Eunwoo’s team on the other hand seemed the opposite, having lost all the money bet on him.
“Try again next time, huh Eunwoo?” Jungkook turns to his opponent, laughing as he exits the ring.
Eunwoo can only mutter curses under his breath, his cornerman quickly aiding him to stand up.
“___,” You hear Jungkook’s voice call out to you, as you whip your head up to face him.
“Did I do good today?” He leans down to whisper into your ear, as you shudder, his hot breath fanning onto your skin, “Hmm?”
Your cheeks are flushed, as Jungkook pulls back to read your expression. Why was he suddenly being so bold in front of so many people?
Of course, people amongst the crowd noticed this, they sent a few reactions, which made you even more embarrassed at the sudden attention.
“Yeah, you did great,” You can’t even look him in the eye, eyes trained on his chest, heaving heavily as he catches his breath.
Jungkook nudges your chin fondly, chuckling as he pats your head, heading over to his room to change and cool down.
“I’ve never seen our team leader do that in my whole life, what’s going on,” Jimin nudges you from the side, as the rest of your club members join in agreeing.
“Honestly, I don’t know either,” You mutter, cheeks still tainted a bright red from the previous situation.
-
“Hi! I’m Yubin! Nice to meet you, seems like I’ll finally have a friend,” The girl in front of you seems more friendly than you had expected. When Hoseok had mentioned Yubin to you, you had initially thought that she would be snarky and mean, maybe she wasn’t as bad as she seems.
Okay nevermind, you’ve definitely made an assumption way too early.
“Kookie, can you please help me hold my mitt?” You watch, wincing slightly at the scene before you. Yubin is clinging onto Jungkook’s arm, the tattooed one, as she holds out the mitts in front of her.
“Don’t call me that,” Jungkook grunts, shoving Yubin away from him.
She doesn’t take this too well, whining as she dramatically pouts in front of him, “Please? I want to train with you,”
Jimin cringes from the side, nudging your shoulder to check if you were witnessing the scene unfold before you. Oh, for sure you were.
“I can’t, I’m gonna start training,” He turns away from the girl, grunting under his breath.
“___, come here,” When Woojae suddenly calls you out, you whip your head up, grabbing your gloves and the wrap and heading towards him. The trainer makes Jungkook hold on to your mitts, to which Jungkook doesn’t reject.
Yubin doesn’t like this one bit, she immediately drops her jaw in shock, glaring straight at you as you approach the man.
“I need to wrap my hands first, hold on,” You tell Woojae, dropping your gloves to wrap your hands.
“Bring it here, I’ll do it,” Jungkook takes the roll from you, skillfully wrapping up your hand quickly.
“Kookie, how is that fair?” Yubin whines from the side, standing beside the both of you as she watches Jungkook finish up wrapping your hands.
“Yubin, get out, I’m trying to train with her,” He turns to glare at the girl, making her cower away.
“That’s so unfair, suddenly she comes in and has all his attention,” Yubin mutters under her breath as she walks away, but you manage to catch that. It somehow makes you proud inside.
-
“I want to spar with ___,” Yubin announces, as Jungkook crosses his arms, frowning at the girl sitting across from him. Most of the guys were sitting around at the couch, right before practice. Today was meant to be a more laid back practice, so it meant the trainers were not in the gym today.
“Why?” Jungkook questions the girl, “I’m not sure you’re at her level yet,”
Yubin gasps, purely offended at that, she stands up, declaring, “Don’t care, gonna spar with her today, I’ll tell her when she arrives.”
The sudden news definitely shocks you when you enter the gym, but nonetheless you still accept it, putting on your gloves and getting into the ring.
To your surprise, since you weren’t aware of what her level was, you managed to get her on the floor easily within the first few minutes of sparring. One jab to her rib and she had already landed on the ground, unable to get up.
“I think I broke my rib,” She sobs, sounds rather fake to you, but you still rush to her side, apologising as you ask her where it hurts.
“Piss off, you purposefully hurt me,” She grunts, launching a punch to your face unexpectedly.
You only feel the harsh contact between her glove and your nose, a loud crunch sounding out as you groan.
“Fuck, are you okay? Hey! Someone get a towel, she's bleeding quite badly!” You can hear Jimin yell, as someone scurries to retrieve the towel
Pain sears through your face, your nose throbs as you wince, hissing at the pain.
When you open your eyes, there’s a puddle of blood in front of you, blood dripping down from your nose as you quickly remove your gloves.
And yet Yubin has the audacity to fake whine, “Guys, I literally broke my rib here and you’re all attending to her?”
“Yubin, your rib is fine, I felt it just now, there isn’t even a bruise so quit complaining,” Tae groans, nudging the girl to get up from the floor.
“I’ll do it,” Jungkook comes back with a wet cloth, but pulls it away from Jimin’s grasp when he tries to take it.
“What?” Jimin is dumbfounded as he watches Jungkook carefully grab your chin, making you turn to face him as he wipes off the blood from your face.
“What the hell is going on…” Hoseok mutters, watching in awe as Jungkook, the man known for his powerful and brooding aura, tenderly wipes your face with a cloth. It astounds everyone to see their team leader be so gentle for once.
“Yubin, what’s your problem?” Jungkook turns to face the girl, eyebrows furrowed as his expression contrasts to his hands gently tending to you.
“She hit me too hard! Jungkook, can’t you see she almost broke my rib!” Yubin’s being unnecessarily dramatic at this point, and everyone else can see right through her.
“Don’t bother coming back tomorrow, you’re suspended from here until after tomorrow. The rules are clear, no foul play, and you clearly punched her after the sparring was over.” He orders her, making her exit the gym.
“Come, go to the medical room, you busted your lip too,” Jungkook grabs your hand, leading you into the room and closing the door behind him.
Your heart is erratically pounding in your chest, your breathing is slightly heavier, from both the previous sparring and Jungkook’s ministrations.
You sit on the couch in the room, hands fiddling with each other as Jungkook shuffles through the medical kit.
“Thanks for that just now,” You whisper, but Jungkook catches it, turning to face you, the corner of his lips turning up into a smile.
“Just ignore her, she’s usually like that.” He tells you, taking a cotton bud and applying the ointment on your busted lip. You wince at the sudden contact, hissing as the cut stings.
“Sorry, it’ll be quick I promise,” He tells you, eyes focusing on applying the cream.
Seeing Jungkook so up close does things to your heart, you notice his two lip piercings, the chain necklace he has on, his hair covering his eyes slightly.
You unconsciously reach up to swipe his hair out of his face, before quickly pulling your hand back once you realise what you were doing.
“Hmm?” He hums, looking back up to make eye contact with you. Jungkook’s heart pounds in his chest as he scans your face, cheeks tainted as your eyes stare back at his. Fuck, you do things to him.
“Am I making you soft? Why does everyone act so surprised when you do this kind of stuff?” You whisper, maintaining eye contact with him.
“Maybe you are,” He brushes a strand of hair away from your face, it makes your heart skip a beat. “Why? Do you want me to stop?”
“No,” You mumble, looking down at your hands in your lap. Your voice wavers as you reply, not trusting yourself to speak fully.
“So you’ll let me do this?” He leans in, breath fanning against your ear. Your breath hitches, his close proximity is so familiar to you, yet not. Even though it wasn’t the first time he was playing with you like this, it had caught you by surprise every time.
You stiffen slightly as you feel his lips make contact with your ear for a split second, eyes widening as he pulls back to face you.
“You’re cute when you're flustered. A whole different person. When you’re fighting you look like an angry cat,” He chuckles, teasing you as you gasp.
“No I don’t!” You slap his chest playfully, feeling at ease with the man already.
“Mm, okay,” He muses, turning back to place the ointment into the medical kit.
You clutch onto your chest for a second, processing what had just happened.
He’s about to be the death of you.
-
“___, there’s another girl from a team who requested to spar with you, her name’s Jisan, you’ll be in a match with her next week,” Namjoon approaches you, telling you.
“What?” You gasp, raising your voice a little as Namjoon is taken aback by your reaction.
“Nothing,” You sigh. There was no way Jisan, the girl Jaehyun had cheated with you on, had the nerves to even set up a match with you like that. But still, it gave you an opportunity to get your revenge back, so who were you to back down from this fight?
For the next week following up to the fight, you’ve been staying late at the gym, punching the same sandbag as you push yourself to work harder. There was no way you were letting yourself fall to Jisan.
“___, go home, you’re exerting yourself too much,” Jimin tells you, holding the sandbag to stop it from swaying.
“Can’t” You pant, resting your palms on your thighs as you catch your breath, “Can’t lose to her, need to practice,”
“I’m telling you, you’re gonna over exert yourself and not do as well during the actual match,” He warns you, but leaves you alone, packing up his stuff to leave.
“I won’t, I just need to train as hard as I can to beat her.”
-
Oh, how wrong were you.
Jisan currently has you pinned against the floor, you groan as she lands another punch square to your jaw.
“___! Get up!” You can hear Woojae shout from the side, but everything’s hurting from how hard the girl had punched you.
“Jisan! Jisan! Jisan!” That’s all you hear as the crowd cheers, the countdown already starting as you struggle against her.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought, no wonder Jaehyun left you for me,” She sneers in your face, as a tear escapes from your eye.
“Hah! What a pussy! Babe, take a look at her, pathetic,” She calls over to Jaehyun in the crowd, making you growl underneath her. It’s too late, the bell shrills, indicating your defeat.
You don’t bother to wait for Woojae to come and assist you down, instead, you run out of the ring, out of the gym and far away from the crowd, to a place behind the gym where no one went to.
It hurts your pride, especially to lose to someone like Jisan. You didn’t miss the way Jaehyun had laughed right in your face as he watched you get beaten up. It made you so mad that you let yourself lose to someone like her.
There was a sandbag hanging there, as you relentlessly attacked it, releasing all your pent up anger. Despite how many times you tried to punch the bag, your emotions built up on top of each other.
It’s like your world is crashing down, as you slide down and curl up into a ball, sobbing. Your pride was at your lowest, to be tormented by your ex, have him laugh in your face, have the girl he cheated on with you to beat you in a boxing match, it made you feel like you were worthless.
It’s been almost an hour as you sit against the wall, sobbing into your arms as you stare at the ground. Why did you have to lose? You spent so much energy into preparing for this match, yet you lost.
“___,” You hear someone call out to you, hand wrapping around your sobbing figure. But you push whoever was there away, there was no way anyone could see you in this state.
“Come here, it’s only me here, everyone else left,” You recognise the voice now, it’s Jungkook.
“Go away, I’m fine,” You sniff, whipping away the tear rolling down your cheek. It was even more embarrassing to you that Jungkook had seen you fail in front of his own eyes, and now he’s watching you weep pathetically because you lost to Jisan.
“It’s fine to lose you know, ___,” He squats next to you, but you only turn away, refusing to show your face.
“It’s not okay when that’s the girl my ex cheated with me on in my old club,” You spit out, a scoff coming out from your mouth at the thought of them.
Jungkook stiffens slightly at this, having not known much about your previous experience with your old club. He had only merely known that you had been with another club but it wasn’t ideal for you, which was why you had switched over.
“I have lost to many people like that before too, people who I want to get revenge on, you know?” He starts, sitting next to you, “But because I was so focused on the fact that I hated them, and I wanted them to lose so badly, I put aside my focus on actually implementing my skills during the match,”
You turn over to watch him through your teary eyes, noticing his gaze softening the moment he makes eye contact with you.
“And I know you aren’t weak for a fact, in fact everyone in the crowd could tell that it wasn’t the fact that you weren’t capable enough. We could tell you were distracted with something else, which is why I also came to find you,” He brushes your hair away from your face, tucking it behind your ear.
“I know how strong you are ___, or else why would I accept you into my club, hmm?” He tells you, “Don’t let this defeat indicate your strength and level in boxing, our whole team knows how strong you are,”
“The most important thing is to put aside everything else, and just focus on your skills in the match. Never let anything else falter you,”
You can’t help but smile at the praise, even though your heart still feels heavy after the loss, maybe his words took a little of that weight off your chest.
“If you want, I’ll spend extra time after training to train with you,”
You whip your head up, eyes widening in shock.
“Really? You don’t mind?”
“I wouldn’t mind since I can see the potential in you ___,”
-
So you and Jungkook had begun staying back after practice and training together, and the both of you had definitely grown closer than before.
“Good!” He praises as you relentlessly attack his hits, punching the mitts with all your might.
“One more round then we’re done,” You nod your head, catching your breath and taking a sip of water before returning back to the mat where Jungkook was waiting.
“Start,” You’re about to hit the mitt, preparing to launch a jab before you’re cut short, both you and Jungkook were shocked to hear the door to the gym open.
Practice ended at least a good hour ago, so everyone should have gone home by now.
But of course, you shouldn’t be surprised that Yubin was the one entering the gym, a fake gasp coming from her mouth as she runs up to Jungkook.
“Yubin, what are you doing here,” Jungkook shrugs her hand off when she clings onto his arm.
“Are you giving ___ private lessons? Can I join?” She flutters her lashes at him, pouting and attempting to give him puppy eyes, remember, attempting.
You decide to take matters into your own hands, why must she get in the way of you and Jungkook?
“No Yubin, we’re specifically only training together, besides, aren’t you supposed to be home now? I’ll see you tomorrow,” You tell her, grabbing Jungkook’s arm and pulling him back to the mat. He raises an eyebrow at you, smirking as he lets himself get pulled by you.
Yubin scoffs at this, she doesn’t have any intentions of giving up, as she approaches you both again.
“Jungkookie~, You’ll let me join right?” She asks him, standing a little too close to Jungkook to your liking.
“No Yubin,” He grunts, putting the mitts back on and ignoring her shocked reaction. You can only laugh watching her stomp out of the gym.
“Jealous, huh?” He taunts you, smirking as he watches your reaction.
“No, I just wanted to train, didn’t want her in the way,” You mumble, pulling your arms up to get ready.
Jungkook finds it amusing, but he doesn’t comment on your behaviour further, simply complying and returning back to train you.
-
To say you and Jungkook had grown close was an understatement, he would treat you to dinner or food after your training, and would constantly text you to check up on your health. You were content with this, but your heart said otherwise. There was always this small part of you that craved for more, that yearned for a deeper relationship with him. Yet the possibility of a new relationship failing just like your old one with Jaehyun, led you to push those feelings aside.
You sigh, punching the sandbag again as you snap out of your daze. Ever since Jungkook’s fight with Eunwoo, he seemed to be more interested in you, playing with your heart and teasing you here and there. It made you go crazy, thinking about him when you went to bed and the moment you woke up.
“Hey ___, what are you doing after this?” Mingyu taps you on the shoulder, catching your attention.
“I’m gonna train with Woojae and Jungkook, then I should be done for the day, why?” You tell him, holding the sandbag in place to stop it from swaying.
“Wanna get drinks with me? I’m bored and I wanted to go to this bar,” Mingyu smiles at you, waiting for your response.
“Sure, I’ve got to tell Jungkook to cancel our extra practice today, hold on,” You were definitely taken aback by the sudden ask, but you weren’t opposed to it either. Mingyu seemed like a friendly guy anyways, to you it was good to make some friends here and there.
You approach the said man, who was currently talking to Jimin.
“Jungkook,” He turns around to face you, the corners of his mouth pulling into a smile.
“I’ve got plans tonight with Mingyu so can we cancel the extra practice today?” You tell him, Jungkook’s eyes widen, since when did you have plans with Mingyu, his friend out of all people?
“Yeah sure,” He starts, “He asked you?” Arms folding as he looks over to the guy.
“Yeah,” You reply, noticing a slight frown forming on his face as he gazes over to Mingyu, but you choose to ignore it anyway.
-
“Okay you’re done today, good work,” Woojae pants, reaching out to bump his gloves into yours. You notice Jungkook standing at the side of the gym, so you head towards him.
“Did I do well today?” You playfully nudge him, giving him a smile as you await his response.
Instead you’re met with a cold “Yeah”, from him, Jungkook doesn’t even spare you a glance before he heads to one of the sandbags, beginning to jab at it a little too hard.
“Jeon, lay back a little, you’re gonna burst another one of those bags,” Woojae jokes, laughing as he packs up his stuff. Jungkook doesn’t respond, he only continues to punch it harder.
“Don’t worry about him, to be honest this is his normal self, ever since you came along he’s been more soft, so don’t be too surprised,” Woojae whispers towards you, as you only meekly nod.
But why was he being different all of a sudden? Did you do something?
“Hey ___, you’re done right? Let’s go,” Mingyu wraps his arm around you, as you giggle, following him. But you also don’t fail to notice the punching sounds in the back growing unconsciously louder.
-
It was the morning of your huge fight, you headed to the gym to warm up before the match, expecting to see Jungkook there. Yet when you enter the gym, you’re met with cold, hard silence.
Maybe he just wanted more sleep? He’ll be watching your match for sure right?
When you enter the ring, even though a whole crowd of people was cheering you on, a huge sum of money was placed on you, you couldn’t help but enter with a heavy heart.
Looking over to where your team sat, your team leader, Jungkook, was nowhere to be seen. The spot where he usually sits empty.
Was he really that mad at you to the point he didn’t come to your match? You honestly thought deep down inside, maybe you and him had something together, it made you want to believe in relationships again.
You don’t have time to look over and wait for the said man to arrive, as the announcer introduces you and your opponent.
Throughout the first round, you were constantly being attacked, you failed to defend yourself, your opponent managing to catch you at your weakest moments, jabbing you right and left. And everytime you tried to attack back, she managed to block your hits, tiring you out instantly.
You couldn’t help it, not when Jungkook was in your mind. Not when you couldn’t spot the man sitting amongst the crowd.
The bell shrills when you land on the ground, unable to get up. You still had one more round, yet you were ready to give up.
Woojae walks over to help you up, “___, what’s up with you today?”
“I don’t know,” You can’t even bear to look him in his eyes, head hung low as you walk to your prep room.
“Whatever it is, you have half an hour to sort it out, whether you lose or win, put in your best effort, not whatever happened out there,” He strictly tells you, before closing the door, leaving you alone in the room to gather your thoughts.
“Where is he? Did I really do something that bad to anger him?” You mutter under your breath, a string of curse words escape your mouth, frustration boiling from you.
“I’ve been watching you from in here,”
You immediately jump at the voice, chills running down your spine as you whip your head up. Jungkook’s standing against the wall, back leaning on the wall with his arms folded, you can’t read his expression, but he nods his head towards the TV mounted to the wall, the empty ring displayed on the screen.
“You scared me,” You whisper, letting out a sigh of relief, at least it wasn’t what you thought it was, some kind of ghost.
“Did you forget what I told you?” He approaches you, slowly walking towards your seated figure on the couch. “To not let anything else distract you and focus on your skills in the game?”
“That’s bold of you to say when you were the reason why I couldn’t focus just now,” You scoff, before stiffening up, realising that you had just exposed yourself.
“Hmm? You were thinking about me?” He leans closer to face you, both your faces inches apart.
Your breath hitches in your throat, your heart pounds in your chest, you’re pretty sure he might even be able to hear it.
“No, I mean, not really,” You turn your head to face away from his gaze, but he only puts a finger under your chin to guide you to face back to him.
“You sure?” He taunts you, a smirk clear on his face as he watches you flush. “It’s fun to see this side of you, hmm? All flustered under my touch?”
You can’t even reply to him, your eyes only widen as he leans further.
“So you won’t mind if I do this?”
Before you know it, Jungkook’s lips are on yours. Jeon Fucking Jungkook, Venom.
You halt for a second, before wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him back.
When he pulls apart, the both of you pant heavily, staring at each other.
“Been waiting forever to do that, you know?” He breaks the silence first, “Now since you’ve gotten your kiss, you better not be distracted in your second round in ten minutes,”
You gasp, still flustered from a while ago, “How am I supposed to focus now when you just kissed me?”
“Win the match and I’ll give you a reward later,” He pecks your lips, sending you a teasing smile.
You can’t even process what has happened, in the last twenty minutes of your break, Jungkook had kissed you. THE Jungkook kissed you.
-
This time, Jungkook sits amongst the crowd, you make eye contact with him before going up into the ring, it gives you a boost of motivation.
You’re curious, what reward would he give you if you did win? If you didn’t, would he be disappointed? But he just kissed you, so what does that mean?
“Last round!” The announcer calls out, as you step into the ring. You shake any thoughts off your mind, “Don’t think about anything else, focus,” you tell yourself.
You land a few jabs on your opponent, causing her to falter back. Another right uppercut to her jaw and she falls to the ground. You don’t let her take the opportunity to get up as you jab her again.
The countdown starts, as she tries to get up, with every second that counts, your heart beats harder and harder.
“3,2,1!” The announcer shouts, “___ takes the champion!” He holds up your hand high, as you smile, feeling a surge of relief. Finally, victory is yours.
You spot your team cheering up and down, Jungkook smiling proudly as cheers flood the arena.
“I knew you could do it!” You laugh as Jimin pats you on the back, the other club members had come over to congratulate you as well.
-
The whole club had decided to go out for a meal as a celebration for your first win, finding a restaurant near the gym.
You decide to text Jungkook, who was sitting across from the table to you.
you: so what’s my reward? 🙃
His phone lights up on the table, catching his attention.
jungkook: you’ll find out later
jungkook: follow me back to my apartment
Your heart thumps in your chest, looking up to make eye contact with the man.
Jungkook gestures towards your phone, signalling for you to check it.
jungkook: follow me outside, im going for a smoke break
“I’ll be outside,” Jungkook stands up, as the rest of the table nods before quickly engaging back in the conversations.
You quietly excuse yourself from the table, scurrying behind Jungkook.
“Come here,” He calls out to you, walking into the alleyway next to the restaurant. You scuttled behind him, watching as he pulls out a cigarette from the box and lights it, inhaling.
“I want to know my reward,” You demand, hands planted on your hips as you stare back at him.
“Patience sweetheart,” He sighs, turning his head to the side and blowing out the smoke.
“So what are we?”
Jungkook’s a little taken aback by the sudden question, but he doesn’t let it show, walking forward to cage you against the wall.
“What do you want us to be?” He whispers, pecking your cheek tenderly.
You don’t reply, tugging his collar to make him lean down, connecting both of your lips.
“Just want you,” You mumble after breaking apart the kiss.
“Yeah? You’ll get me later,” He chuckles, pulling his cigarette in to inhale another breath.
You almost choke on your saliva, gulping as you realised what he just said.
“But for real,” He laughs at your flustered expression, “Be my girlfriend?”
You nod your head, pulling him in for another kiss.
-
You and Jungkook should have definitely not left the dinner this early considering it was literally your celebratory dinner, but the both of you simply would have gone crazy if you did so.
“Kook, close the door,” You laugh through a kiss as Jungkook hums, mindlessly shutting the front door to his apartment with his foot.
“Fuck, been waiting to do this since forever,” He mumbles, as he trails kisses down your neck, sucking on a spot that makes you grip his arms a little tighter.
The apartment is filled with your soft moans, Jungkook kissing your neck passionately as he groans.
“Up,” He taps your butt, signalling for you to jump up.
You do so, and he carries you into the room, gently placing you on his bed.
You giggle as he peppers more kisses down, before halting to remove his shirt, his torso now full on display for you to see.
You use this opportunity to remove your shirt and pants, leaving you in your underwear, as Jungkook groans at the sight.
“Pretty girl,” He sighs, kissing down to your cleavage, as you giggle, playing with his hair and hands roaming his back.
“Kiss me,” You whine, tapping his shoulders to get him to move his attention back to your lips.
“So needy, huh?” He chuckles, “Gonna make this good for you, yeah? Give you your reward?”
He unclasps your bra, gazing intently at your boobs as he pinches one of your nipples, making you arch your back, a whine emitting from your mouth.
He trails down to your lower body, teeth clasping the band of your underwear as he pulls it down, the sight itself sends a rush of heat to your pussy.
“Jungkook,” Another whine, he shushes you quickly, nose nudging against your clit as you sigh in relief.
His tongue makes contact with your clit, sucking on it as you mewl, sensations overwhelming you already. His fingers begin to trace over your slit, gathering the slick as he slowly pushed two fingers in.
“Fuck, you’re so fucking tight, how is my cock suppose to fit in here later, huh?” He laughs, breath fanning on your pussy as you shudder.
“I can,” You tell him through moans, hands finding its way through his hair as you tug on it.
“Mm, gonna stretch you out,”
His fingers hit that spongy spot inside of you, as a choked moan escapes your mouth, chanting his name. Sensations overwhelm you as he continues to finger you, sucking on your clit, you’re so close.
“Mmhm- No!” Just as you’re about to climax, Jungkook quickly removes his fingers, your hole clenches, as you whine at the empty feeling.
Jungkook steps back a little, removing his pants as his cock springs up, slapping his stomach.
This time, you immediately take initiative, sitting up from the bed as you take his cock in your hand, slowly stroking it, making Jungkook hiss above you.
You peer up to him, making eye contact as you stick out your tongue to trace over the slit on his head, Jungkook groans at the sight.
“Good girl,” He praises you, as you sink your mouth further down, taking most of his cock, while you continue to stroke the rest.
You bob your head up and down, as Jungkook’s moans grow louder, his hands grip onto your head, slightly pushing your head down as you let out a strangled moan.
“Fuck, fuck enough,” He quickly pulls you back, angry cock red and throbbing as you smile, looking up at him.
“I was about to cum, you don’t know what you do to me,” He sighs, wiping away the drool at the corner of your mouth.
You climb back onto the bed as Jungkook follows you, crawling on top of you as he locks his lips with yours again.
“Ready?” He breaks the kiss, tapping the head of his cock at your entrance. You quickly nod, wrapping your legs around his waist.
A sigh comes from both your mouths as Jungkook sinks in, the stretch bringing you more pleasure than pain.
“You can move,” Jungkook nods, beginning to pick up a rhythm as he pushed his cock in and out of you, moans growing louder.
“Hnggh please” Another strangled moan emits your mouth, as Jungkook chuckles from above you.
“Please what baby? Use your words,” He whispers into your ear, sucking on the skin right below it, making you arch your back further, inching closer to him.
“Faster, please, need you,” You pant, hands roaming his back as he picks up his thrusts, watching as you roll your eyes back in pleasure.
“Yeah? Like that?” You nod, moaning as your nails drag along his broad and muscular back, pleasure overwhelming you.
“Right there! Don’t stop please,” You sob, tightening your grip on his back as he grunts above you, cock slamming into your pussy.
Your thighs begin to shake around his waist as you climax, Jungkook’s cum spurting into your pussy as he lets out a guttural moan.
Quickly pulling out, he kisses you, pushing the strand of hair away from your face. You pant, smiling into the kiss as the both of you catch your breath.
“Good?” He hums, pecking your forehead affectionately.
“Mm, best reward ever,”
taglist: @sparklingocean @idkjustlovingbts @moonstar127 @babybella337 @ane102 @synnfulqt
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marvelsmylife · 21 days
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Second Choice Part 2
Pairing: Azriel x reader
Plot: After three months apart from Azriel, you decide to pay Elain a visit in the spring court and make a discovery of your own
A/n I’m putting up a poll on which high lord you want to cause trouble in this relationship. Tamlin or Helion. Vote here
Second Choice Masterlist
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You stayed at Rhysand’s cabin for three months and refused to talk to Azriel, no matter how persistent he was. Rhysand had to create wards to keep Azriel from entering the cabin. While Feyre and Nesta thought Rhysand was being extreme with his actions, Cassian, Mor, and Amren thought he made the right call.
It’s a good thing he did that because every day, at the same time, Azriel would show up with a present for you. It would vary from day to day. Some days, it was jewelry, other days it would be flowers and pastries from your favorite bakery. 
A letter would be attached to every present he brought you. He would beg for forgiveness in each letter and promise you were the only one he loved and that he was willing to wait for you, no matter how long it took. 
You would burn all the letters and leave all the presents he gave you outside the cabin before crawling back into your bed cry yourself to sleep.
It wasn’t until one day you decided to travel to the spring court to talk to Elain. You needed to know if anything happened between her and Azriel at the beginning stages of your established relationship.
Rhysand was more than happy to take you to the spring court. He felt like you needed to get away from the night court for a while, and while he despised the spring court, he would travel there for you. “I know you’re still furious with Azriel, and rightfully so, but he really is sorry about everything, and he does love you,” Rhysand commented when you arrived at the spring court.
“I know, but I can’t even think about forgiving him until I hear Elain’s side, and even then, I still have doubts. I mean, does he genuinely love me, or is it only because of the bond,” you replied and looked over at Elain and Lucien’s estate.
Rhysand knew you were right and that you had the right to know the truth. “Let me know when you’re ready to go. I’m going to pay Tamlin a little visit while I’m here.” Rhysand was gone before you had a chance to respond.
Turning your attention back to the beautiful estate, and noticed a clearly pregnant Elain waddling over to you. “Y/n! It’s so nice to see you again,” Elain had a radiant smile on her face and excitedly hugged you when she finally reached you, “It’s been too long.”
“I know ! !! I didn’t even know you were pregnant,” you smiled back before gesturing to her bump, “How far along are you?”
Elain had a bright smile on her face as she cradled her baby bump, “Seven months. Come, we have so much to catch up on, and Lucien just finished setting up the dining room so we can eat lunch,” Elain looped her arm with yours and started walking towards her house.
After an hour of eating and catching up, you were all seated in their living room and decided to bring up the reason you were there. You explained what you discovered three months ago and wanted to know if she and Azriel were involved while your romance was still new.
“I will be frank, there was a brief moment when I thought about being in a relationship with Azriel, but nothing physical ever happened between us.” Elain turned towards her mate, “And I’m so thankful that nothing happened. Being with Lucien is the best thing to ever happen to me. I didn’t know true love until I accepted the mating bond and fully gave myself to him.”
You envied the way Elain and Lucien looked at each other. Nothing but love and adoration in their eyes. It was so precious it made you sick. Wait, no. You were actually nauseous, “Where is your bathroom? I’m going to be sick,” you asked and shot up from your seat.
Elain quickly ushered you to the nearest bathroom, and you proceeded to throw up for the next several minutes. “I’m so sorry Elain. I don't know what’s wrong with me. I’ve been feeling sick these past few weeks,” you apologized and rinsed your mouth.
“It’s ok. In my first trimester, I was throwing up a lot. Poor Lucien had to hear it every night. Don’t worry, it’ll pass,” Elain tried to comfort you, but you looked over at her wide-eyed, “You do know you’re pregnant, right?”
When you didn’t answer, Elain just hugged you and caused you to start sobbing. Realization hit you that you were pregnant and had to tell Azriel he was going to be a father.
@sidthedollface2 @crazylokonugget @cleverzonkwombatsludge @vhjlucky13 @fxckmiup @sheblogs @isa1b2h3
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benkeibear · 8 months
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⋆꙳✧༄ After a fight
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❖ Characters: Mikey, Draken, Hanma
❖ Reader: female
❖ Summary: How they behave after a fight with you
❖ WARNINGS: Mentions of cheating (no one cheats tho), harassment
❖ A/n: don’t want to miss a post? Sign up for my Taglist in my Navi! | Requested.
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☰ Mikey:
ꕤ Mikey doesn't even remember what the fight was about this time, it happens a lot with you two
ꕤ It starts with something small like him forgetting to take out the trash and you having to do it yourself but it always ends in tears and both of you screaming at each other and saying things none of you mean
ꕤ He hates it every time, unsure why he always gets so carried away and seems to forget how much he loves you when he says all these things
ꕤ Your tears are the thing that wakes him up, silence filling the room next to your quiet sobs and hics.
ꕤ Both of you can't even look at the other and Mikey decides to leave as always, recklessly driving on his bike to clear his head from everything that's plaguing him
ꕤ You used to scold him for that whenever he came back which only lead to more and more fights but you were worried sick that one day he has to get scraped off the pavement because he was too reckless
ꕤ deciding you ist stay up until he's back, letting the small light next to the couch on as you put on your favorite show as a distraction
ꕤ the hours passed and the sun slowly started to rise when he finally came back home to find you sleeping on the couch, the little lamp still on, your show still running as you clutched onto the plushie he gifted to you on your first date
ꕤ It broke his heart to see your eyes were puffy, knowing you cried yourself to sleep and he felt even worse when he realized that he was the reason for the tears shed
ꕤ with utmost care he crawled under the blanket to you and hid his face in your chest, his body trembling when he allowed himself to spill a few tears, unsure if you'd be able to forgive him once again
ꕤ he knows he fucked up and that he shouldn't have ran off like always but he doesn't know how to apologize to you when things were said he didn't mean, unsure if you'd believe any of these words
ꕤ He falls asleep in your arms, hands clutching onto you out of fear you'd leave him but you wouldn't. Not over some petty little fights like these
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☰ Draken:
ꕤ Draken didn't mean to call you a cheap whore when you were the one getting harassed but his temper took the better of him
ꕤ Of course he didn't mean it and he beat the guy up that dared to touch you like this but the stinging pain of bruised knuckles took away his ability to think properly
ꕤ He blamed you for the negative attention even though he knew it's wrong and he was just angry at the guy but he still took it out on you
ꕤ You looked at him shocked, eyes wide before tears collected in your beautiful eyes and you returned home, ending your date early and locking yourself into the bedroom
ꕤ Draken cursed himself when he let you go, knowing better than to run after you and beg you for forgiveness even though he wanted to apologize and pull you into a tight embrace
ꕤ He stayed out for a while longer, driving aimlessly around town before getting you the biggest bouquet he could find
ꕤ Once at home his heart ached at your quiet sobs that managed to break through the bedroom door and he gently knocked, leaning his forehead against the door only to hear you throw a pillow at the door on the other side “go away” you mumbled heartbroken but loud enough for him to hear
ꕤ He didn't protest and just sat down at the door, his back resting against it with the flowers on his lap as he rambled about how sorry he is and that he was in the wrong and how much he loves you
ꕤ He was pretty much begging for your forgiveness because you're the best thing in his life and he didn't want to lose you under any circumstances
ꕤ You needed a long while to calm yourself down, eventually wanting to talk to him face to face but when you opened up the door a sleeping draken fell into the bedroom, his hands still tightly clutching onto the flowers in his sleep
ꕤ the sight made you frown and you gently sat down to place his head on your lap, kissing his forehead “I'm sorry, too” you mumbled and let him sleep a moment longer
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☰ Hanma:
ꕤ fighting with Hanma is actually a rare occurrence, you two have little petty fights all the time but you end up laughing about it while calling each other all the names you know
ꕤ Real fights are rare and heartbreaking when they do happen from time to time but if they do, there's a real reason behind it and not just him forgetting to empty the ashtrays
ꕤ They also escalate quite fast, screaming at each other and often times shoving the other around. You would never hit the other but the frustration was far too big to behave properly
ꕤ It was just pointing fingers at this point because he came home with hickeys covering his neck. He claims nothing happened but how can you believe this?
ꕤ You ended up leaving the apartment, fed up with his behavior and he threw whatever he was holding at the door the moment you closed it behind you out of sheer anger
ꕤ Hanma would thrash half the apartment - but only his belongings while you were gone, not understanding how you can trust him so little
ꕤ Yes he was out with Kisaki and yes there were women with them but how is it his fault they can't behave and are all over him? He even told the woman who latched onto his neck off
ꕤ He was weirded out by the sudden affection in the first place, hating women who throw themselves at him when he was trying to maintain a healthy relationship for once
ꕤ So he didn't see a reason to apologize to you, texting you exactly what happened and swearing on his life that nothing happened
ꕤ You really wanted to trust him but his reputation made it hard so you ended up asking Kisaki who wouldn't lie to you, knowing you'll castrate him if you ever find out so he told you exactly what happened
ꕤ You came home hours after you left and Shuji sat amongst the wrecked things, the entire ashtray full, a bottle of alcohol half empty next to him and blood shot eyes but he wouldn't apologize, unable to get over his own ego
ꕤ When you did apologize he pulled you onto his lap and held you close “I told you, you can trust me. I would need to be dumb to betray the only good thing in my life” he mumbled, clearly not entirely sober but it didn't matter since he was speaking the truth
ꕤ You ended up falling asleep in his lap, cuddled up to his tall frame and his hands didn't let go of you, too worried that you'll be gone when he wakes up
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Networks: @enchantedforest-network @themovingcastlez @planetonet
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aluciahaz · 1 month
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Sub Adam who had been a brat all day and reader punishes him by edging him and making him beg for forgiveness 🙏🏻
he would try so hard to not give in but once he does it's nothing but sobs and whimpers, begging his mommy to let him cum and to call him a good boy<33
LETS GO!! i have to admit this is super long, sorry!! i feel like my fics keep getting longer and longer cause i just start throwing a shit ton of metaphors for no reason 💀💀 im trying to work on shortening them!!
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burns good
—adam x gn!reader (reader’s gender not specified but term mommy is used)
—includes: mommy kink, crying, overstimulation, multiple orgasms
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“come on just—stop, ngh! stop fucking with me-EE!” he jolts as you touch his cock again with your feathery touch before writhing against the ropes that bind him to his chair.
it’s been an hour of this. and although his words may be sharp, you can tell he’s losing his edge.
“maybe if you used your manners, you wouldn’t be in this situation,” you spit out, grabbing his face roughly to force him to look up at you, fire still behind his eyes.
you’ll extinguish it soon enough.
“why would i need to? i’m a legend—AH! ha, fuck!” he shouts as a quick slap from your hand stings his inner thigh, making him shiver in pain, but his flushed face shows his true emotions.
“you’re a slut, that’s what you are,” you say with venom, and the shudder through his body showed that your words ran through his veins like fast poison. he gazes up at you in almost awed disbelief, unable to respond with a witty response.
“you love it when i treat you like this, huh? is that why you act out all the time? acting like an asshole just so i can put you in your place? answer me.” you seethe, your fingers digging into his legs until they bruise.
his bites his lip, not wanting to confess the truth. but he can’t lie. not when you’ve got him cornered like this.
“maybe—NGH! fine! okay—yes—i do it on purpose for you to—fuck—to do this shit to me! happy?” he admits, his back arching as you touch his cock once more, teasing adam with the finish line that’s so far away.
“good boy. see? that wasn’t so hard, wasn’t it?” you see his hips try and buck up from his seat and quickly move your hand away, enjoying the pathetic whine of aggravation from him.
“now all you need to do is say it nicer! come on, you can do it,” you say, smirking at his hesitation. but his uncertainty wasn’t due to your patronizing tone, no. he wasn’t collected enough to catch onto that.
it was the subtle praise. the encouragement. he did something right, he’s getting your attention. good attention.
it makes his head swivel in delight, and even though he’s reluctant to follow through with your request—his pride was on the line!—he opens his trembling lips, his shaky voice conveying a lovely message.
“i act out so you…you can punish me, and—hnn—so you can drive me crazy, i—i…” he takes in a deep breath as you watch him intently, smiling at his confession. it only spurs him on more.
“i need it, please—mommy, please!” he begs weakly, yet his eyes scream for your help. they shine with tears from overstimulation, but what’s more noticeable is the pitiful desperation in his look that overrides his crying.
you can’t help but want more. he was pretty rude this week.
“please what? use your words, baby,” you coo, watching him battle between his ego and desires. his small whimpers as he tried to figure out what to do were adorable, but soon, he looks straight up at you, the victor clear.
“please let me cum!” he begs, his voice crawling into a high-pitched whine. it’s desperate, it’s sweet, and it only makes you want to play with him more.
“oh, but…baby, you don’t deserve it.”
those words were enough to make him wail and shake in his seat, but the feeling of your breath right against his ear and your harsh punishment sent him flying into a true spiral of delirium.
“nononono PLEASE! i’ll be good i’ll—hic—be…” his arms push against the binds frantically, trying to break out of them to just do something. anything.
for a few seconds.
“AH! hm—ngh! fuckfuck—!” adam’s voice is almost non-existent with half of his words filled with the raspiness of pain and the airiness from unrequited yearnings as another lash runs against his leg, red blooming on his skin.
god, he wanted you so bad. he wanted you to touch him, to make him feel special, to just let him cum after what seems like decades. he needed you to help him because even without these ropes, he knew he would never be fully satisfied without your hands on his skin.
but he had to serve penance for his actions. no matter how sweet he wailed, no matter how much he writhed, he had broken a covenant of sorts between him and you. and he had to learn that yes, his unruliness will not be tolerated, even if he begs—
sorry is not enough.
so you keep getting him close to the gates of heaven, only for him to fall back down from seeing stars. each time, he would cry without fail, and each time, his attitude would crumble.
now, there is no hesitation when he pleads for mercy, there is no question as to whether he should follow what you say, and there are no thoughts of defiance corrupting his mind. he was as unchastely pure as one could be, following every sinful demand you say.
you call him all sorts of things. slut, whore, pathetic, giving him whiplash from how kind you were earlier. it makes him cry earnestly, just wanting any semblance of praise to feed off of; to taste the sweetness of love that danced between your words
“i need it—hic—i—please, please be nice to me! m-mommy, mm! i’m so sorry! imsosorryplease, i’ll be a good boy—please, stop being so mean!” he sobs, shaking in his chair as you refrain from giving him what he wants.
adam’s voice quivers, and his breath hastens. his eyes are lidded like he’s inebriated, and he is. he’s drunk off of your words, your demeaning, cruel, vicious words, and they only motivate him more to beg for your forgiveness like a sinner at church.
when you speak again, he feels like a weight has been lifted off his chest, the thorns of your piercing words completely burning away with the warmth of your blessing.
“you’ve been so nice to me for quite some time. perhaps you can be good after all,” you observe with a hum, watching his eyes sparkle with excitement.
“yes—yes i can!” he says frantically, trying to persuade you to do something more. to let his head soar into the clouds and get dizzy from the height.
there was a brief moment of pause as you pondered if you should give in to his pleas, but considering it has been a while, you don’t mind handing him a brief blessing. one that will slowly grow further and further, his brain distorted by the constant pleasure that you put upon him. until he cries and says he can’t cum anymore, and the overstimulation was making everything feel too much.
too good. too perfect. perhaps heaven was overrated when things like this existed. when you existed with your perfect hands running over his body, kissing his neck with delicacy and following it up with bites filled with carnal pleasure.
it was a thought that’s crossed his mind plenty of times. well, when he’s able to think. as you let him cum, your fingers now around his cock as he thrashes in his ropes, screaming and wailing as you keep moving your hand, his legs trembling as you ruin him so well.
“w-wait! wait too much—ngh—fuck! mommy, please!” he squeaks, his whole body shuddering with his sobs as he tries to collect himself somehow, but he can’t fight this sensory overload. not even with the experience of being the first man.
there’s a certain feeling burning inside of him. like a flame that was comfortably warm, yet was flickering too high out of the fireplace, signaling danger. but he can’t stop getting closer, even if it melts his ability to think in the process. the burn of lust was just too good.
he didn’t even try to fight the fire, not even caring about his appearance as he begs for you to both stop and keep going, unsure of which poison to drink from.
yet, as he was engulfed in the divine flames of your sinful blessing, he couldn’t help but feel a bit happy as he sniveled, his tears glistening against his skin. you were giving him so much attention. it didn’t matter that the pleasure was intertwined with pain, it was just a more direct sign that you had all your focus on him, and that’s all he ever wanted.
“ngh..i can’t—i c..can’t…” he says weakly, his voice practically fading into nothingness. at some point, his position changed to him lying down on the bed, still completely tied from limb to limb. but you thought that after cumming for the third time, he deserved a more comfortable environment for the rest of the night in order to soften the cruelty of your hands.
and although his voice is cracking at the seams, and his body is at your complete mercy, the mere action of you having him moved to the bed made his heart swell. it was that slight affection that made the sting on his thighs feel so nice, the almost overbearing heat of your body over his feel so loving.
“you’re doing so well. come on, just one more for me, baby,” those words were the sweetest things in the world. it made every red mark and each brutal remark worth it.
“mmn…okay—AH! mommy!” he keened, weeping as his legs jolted up just barely, too weak to even react properly as your fingers delved inside of him, quickly finding the spot that made him shiver all over.
“so—so much! i feel—i can’t—!” his eyes shut tightly as he cries, unable to put his thoughts into words. but you’ve been here time and time before, his words aren’t necessary to understand what he’s thinking.
he begs with his tears, says ‘i love you’ with the arch in his back, and screams that he wants to cum against all odds with the dazed look on his face, his eyes slowly opening to show a man who’s lost the inability to speak with words, but fluent in the language of bliss.
as he cums with a silent scream, barely anything coming out of his used cock, you watch as his eyes run to the back of his head. you watch how his whole body stiffens in a single moment before becoming limp, pleading for you to take care of it.
you can’t help but oblige, gently removing the ropes that bind him, kissing each angry imprint of love on his body, and whispering words of well-earned praise to your angel.
adam can’t cry anymore, yet if he could, he would, as being overwhelmed with love and care was just as intense as drowning in lust and desire.
he feels so vulnerable, yet he enjoys it wholeheartedly. it allowed him to get pampered like some sort of royalty. perhaps he should start doing this more just to get treated like this.
but when he suggests for you to call him ‘king’ the next day you put him back in his place, rolling your eyes in annoyance. he never learns, but he doesn’t want to. your lessons felt so good after all. why would he want them to stop?
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tags: @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @mvskedxrtist @drlucichen @luciferspetduck
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qierxing · 10 months
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A/N: An interpreted continuation of @shiny-jr wonderful fic. This is one of the longest fics I’ve written…..carried by my love for Heartslabyul. Been chipping away at this every so often until now. I would strongly recommend reading Shiny’s part first, or else a good part of this will not make sense. Part two will be something that will be floating in the future.
TW/CW: Graphic descriptions of PTSD & panic attack symptoms, self-harm from bad coping habits, dissociation, dismemberment, references to Alice in Wonderland, made up lore LOL
I. II. | Isekai AU | Yan! Heartslabyul x Reader
"So she sat on, with closed eyes, and half believed herself in Wonderland, though she knew she had but to open them again, and all would change to dull reality…"
– Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, by Lewis Caroll
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i. Cremation
Ramshackle's mailbox is a pitiful thing.
It sits right in front of the small graveyard near forgotten covered in tangled vines and weeds. Unlike its surroundings which shine from recent renovations and repairs, the hinges still squeak loudly when the latch is opened and the outer parts are scratched and dented. On bright sunny days, it sticks out like a sore thumb.
And today, it's even more obvious.
The box now is in danger of tilting off its support pole, filled with the weight of lumpy letters, spilling out envelopes upon the dirt. Around it sits various colorful wrapped boxes and packages that are piled haphazardly across each other. You swear it gets larger each passing day.
“How many does this make?” 
A battered top hat pops into existence next to you, one of the resident Ramshackle ghosts who's been helping you around lately. (He had said you remind him of his siblings when he was alive. You're still unsure whether that was a good or bad thing.)
You let out a sigh through your nose. There's nothing to say about the situation in front of you. You wish they could disappear the minute you wish for it, yet the colorful wrappings and the various envelopes scattered around your feet don’t vanish the more you stare. 
“I’m really sorry about all this.” 
The ghost shakes his head, frowning at your apology.
“It’s not your fault, prefect.” 
The words are reassuring, but they don’t make the gross feeling go away when you crouch down and start picking up letters that have fallen out of the mailbox. 
From: Azul Ashengrotto 
Sender: Vil Schoenheit
Sent by: Riddle Rosehearts
All of them are addressed to you, of course. You can already imagine their contents: filled to the brim with regret and guilt, blotted words begging for forgiveness for the wrongs they’ve done. When you told the Headmaster that you didn’t want anyone visiting Ramshackle, that wasn’t an invitation for them to flood you with unwanted mail. Then again, perhaps you should have foreseen that they would do this. All of them are stubborn to a fault. It wasn't like your phone was any better until you’ve blocked all numbers making it go off endlessly like a shrieking parrot.
The resulting letters alone are thick enough to rival the textbooks Professor Trein assigns students. Pressing your lips together, you turn around to start heading back to your temporary home.The rest of the bulky packages can wait. The ghost helps swing the door open and Grim perks up from his seat in the living room as you set down the letters.
“Grim, can you get a fire going?”
“Now?”
He eyes the thick pile of letters with wary slit pupils and asks, “Aren’t ya…gonna read ‘em?”
You did. For the first few ones, at least. They were barely discernible, their apologies blurring by as they begged for your grace and mercy. That they would do anything to right their wrongs. If you didn’t know any better, you would say their reverence was akin to a cult. 
It makes your skin crawl.
After that, you stopped bothering to even  skim through. What is the point of continuing to make sense of lunatics? Of cruel games and intrepid players?
"We have the wood, and the house is a bit chilly, so why not?" You reply. Grim scrunches his eyebrows but doesn't object as heavy wooden logs are dumped into the grate. He takes a deep breath and blows upon the letters scattered on the wood, encasing everything in familiar neon blue flames.
You settle into the armchair next to Grim, staring into flickering blue flames. Grim curls up next to you, purring contentedly. All too easily, your eyes lull close to the sound of crackling flames consuming paper.
When you step out onto the front porch the next morning, you're overtaken by an overwhelming fragrance.
There's crimson red petals floating through the air. Fluttering in the crisp morning wind, they fall in your hair and the rest end up crushed under your feet. You'd feel bad if it wasn't so pungent; the very air feels like it's infused with the scent of roses. 
Your nose crinkles as you pick up the impossibly huge bouquet that is wrapped in silk and ribbons. It's certainly beautiful, you'll give it that. Yet this scent doesn't bring back good memories. It only brings vivid flashbacks of being lost among rose bushes, covered in dirt and scratches, trying so frantically to find a way out. When every single crack and snap was a possible life threat. 
You don't realize you're crushing the bouquet until something trickles down your fingers. It doesn't feel like blood pooling between your skin. Relaxing your grip ever so slightly, you find pin sharp thorns running down the stems where you were gripping. The fleshy meat of your palm is punctured cleanly in the shapes of the thorns. Was it left unclipped on purpose?
The card is the next thing you find with bloodied fingers, rumpling white cardstock and soiling it without a care.
To our beloved player,
We deeply apologize for the pain we have caused you and beg for your forgiveness. We will make sure to atone for our sins of harming you.
~H
The initial and the bouquet is too obvious of who it's from. Riddle must've penned it, because none of the card soldiers would ever write this formally. But it must've been Cater's idea to send the bouquet–Trey nor Riddle would've come up with such a sentimental and sappy idea. And Ace and Deuce would rather die than do such a cringey thing. 
The door opens again behind you. You turn to see a half-awake Grim groggily yawning. He stops once his blue eyes land on the bouquet in your hands.
"Whazz that?" He points a paw at the rumpled roses, and you hastily shove them behind your back. 
"Nothing." You say.
Grim makes a face before finally breaking the awkward silence with, "Do ya want me to go tell 'em off–"
"No." 
The answer is rushed and makes Grim's eyes widen. It's crazy, you know. But to have Grim try to solve the problem for you doesn't sit well with you. It's not like it's his fault for what you went through.
And maybe, deep down, you couldn't bear the thought of telling them nasty insults and curses to make them hate you more.
"I'll take care of it." You add, trying to reassure Grim, who only stares impassively. He shakes his head.
"Am I making another fire?"
"...if you can, please."
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ii. The Morgue
It’s been a couple of weeks since you’ve been brought to Twisted Wonderland. 
Yuu’s…body has been moved to another room. It freaks you out more than you would like to admit. It’s familiar, yet it’s not. It’s carved to your image, but with none of your personality. There’s something wrong with the way its eyes are tilted, the dip of its cheeks, the curve of the chin. An idealistic, dreamy mirror of yourself.
Still. You’ve seen many dolls in your lifetime, and even you cannot deny the life like artisanship. The seams of the joints are cleverly hidden and the skin is smooth and unfettered without any misshapen resin(or clay?)–these are marks of a true doll-maker.
“It’s your vessel.” Grim had said with a matter of fact tone. As if you weren't looking at an unmoving human body. “Everyone was freakin’ out cuz’ it just shut down outta nowhere.”
It must’ve been because you were brought here at that moment. The hypothesis doesn’t really make you feel any better. You should know better than to blame an inanimate shell of a vessel, but... 
You jerk awake, cold sweat running down your neck and face. It takes a second for you to realize you're not being encased in burning scarlet flames and it's not claustrophobic verdant green hedges surrounding you. The bed sheets are tangled, wrapped in a chokehold around your legs and torso. Instead of translucent leaves, the bed canopy curtain shields you from the moonlight pouring in. The soft snores of Grim sync with your ragged breaths in time.
Tonight's nightmare had been recurring for a while. Every single time you thought you had shaken it off, it comes back like a bad omen.
Instinctively, your hand runs over the bumpy raise of scars running down your back and neck. Most of them had faded with magical treatment and time, but there are some that still have rough skin that has hardened like scales on a dragon. 
Your fingertips curve inward and dig. 
You thought you were safe. The rose maze is large and encompassing: hiding would be the best move. You breath in–
– and you were face to face with the Crimson Tyrant himself.
His face contains no humanity, his eyes only reflect dark, dark anger and resentment. You thought you were staring into a never ending abyss. Something inky black catches your eye, and you realize with horror that blot is trapping your feet and leaving stains upon your skin.
"Stop right there, imposter!"
Your nails scrabble at the bumps and raises, tearing through them with obsessive speed. Faster, faster–it doesn't feel right, you have to scrub your skin clean of those foreign textures.
Adrenaline is the only thing keeping your legs from collapsing to the blot climbing its way up. You have to do something–
–something wraps around your neck and torso, and all air leaves you as it squeezes and knife sharp needles gnaw into bone.
Your breathing grows more hoarse as your nails scratch faster and faster, desperate to remove more of those vile clumps of impurities. 
"You will suffer as Yuu did." The verdict is declared with deranged gleeful vengeance. The tyrant points his scepter at your fallen body covered in thorny vines reminiscent of roses. Blot swallows your form and screams whole–
It's only when the familiar smell of iron registers in your mind, that you finally snap back to your senses. When you finally draw your hand back to view, it's covered in clotted blood and torn skin, both dead and fresh, all clogged under your nails. The open cold air now makes your neck and back sting sharply as blood trickles out of reopened wounds.
It's with a heavy heart that you quietly leave the bedroom entirely to wash away the blood in the kitchen sink. Crimson dyes the white ceramic for a brief moment before swirling away down the drain. 
The wounds sting and ache, but you can barely be bothered to tend to them as you resign yourself to the living room couch with a thin blanket. You think of Grim sleeping unaware upstairs and close your eyes. The old weathered grandfather clock in the corner ticks on and on with each second.
No, you can't blame a puppet for functioning for its purpose.
But you could tear its limbs out of its sockets so it could never walk anywhere again. If you plucked out its fingers and eyes, it wouldn't be able to find its way around anymore. Sewing the mouth shut would seal the deal.
Then it would truly know how it felt to have no choice.
Working as Sam's assistant helps take the mind off things. Crowley had begged you to resume classes as Grim's 'beast tamer', but something in you screamed at the thought of having to shed your feelings aside to return to what normalcy was. As if this world didn't run on the giant malicious cogwheels of fate and lines of code.
How painfully obvious it is that your mere presence is just a substitute. 
"Ah!" 
You look up from sorting products on the shelves to a surprised looking Riddle Rosehearts. No no no no–
You take in his sunken gray eyes and pale skin, before going back to shelving products. It takes strength to play dumb. Your shaking hands betray the fear growing within as they sort through stationary merchandise. Finally, the products are lined up neatly and you're trying to bustle away as quickly as you can–
"W-wait!" You try to ignore the half whispered plea, moving behind the counter with an unnatural speed. 
"Please, wait, I need something!" You do stop, because unfortunately, you can't completely ignore a customer in need. So you take a deep breath and grit your teeth, turning around with a polite smile. Stare straight ahead. Think not of smoldering flames and knife like rose thorns–
"What can I help you with?" He stares into your eyes, frantic and desperate. It's clear with the way his mouth opens and closes that he wasn't sure how to continue his case.
"If you aren't sure, take your time to browse, dear customer." The grin was starting to wear on your cheeks already with how much you struggle to keep it in place. 
Please just leave, you internally beg. You settle behind the counter, watching as Riddle bows his head and disappears among the shelves for his items. A tired sigh leaves your nose. 
Your hands keep shaking no matter how hard you clench and unclench them. 
He can't hurt me here. 
Sam is just a yell away and there's mace and a knife in your bag underneath the counter. 
It'll be fine. It's not the Tyrant.
A clink of glass catches your attention, as some ink bottles are pushed on the counter. 
"I've finished." Riddle's smoldering eyes choke you under their hues.
"I'll ring that up, then." 
The exchange happens quietly yet as you hand him the bottles, he pauses, looking down. "What happened to your hand?" 
Shit. There were still obvious swollen scratches and puncture holes imprinted on your hand. You completely forgot about bandages after Grim caught you with the bouquet the other day. You quickly hide your hand in your pocket. "I don't know what you're talking about."
He seems to want to say more, but is cut off when someone else comes up behind him, waiting to pay for their items. He only swallows hard and nods, setting out with only a guilty look back.
You finally breathe out a long sigh of relief when the door chimes echo behind him.
-
"That'll be ten thaumarks and thirty madols." 
This is the fifth time Riddle's shown up during your shift and bought ink. This time, it's a deep crimson color not unlike the shade that saturates his dorm. It reminds you of torn skin on nails from that night, and it takes a minute to shake those thoughts off as you pick up the bottles.
"Prefect, could I talk to you after your shift ends?" You turn to fix him with an incredulous stare, and he grimaces.
"I promise I won't harm you! Did you not get our letters?" But how can I trust you? On this cracked chessboard you are forced to play upon, you don't know where to place Riddle at all. He is too much of an unstable bomb that could blow up in your face at the wrong impression.
"Fine." He definitely won't back down until you agree to hear him out, and it's best to let him state his case once and for all. "My shift ends in an hour. I'll meet you outside."
"Excellent. I shall wait for you then, prefect." He takes his bag and leaves with a small bow.
The time passes all too quickly. Sam shoos you out before you can try to coax some overtime hours from him. And much to your annoyance, Riddle is waiting for you promptly as you step outside.
He looks nervous as he bows his head in acknowledgement of your presence. You'd almost feel bad, if it weren't for the fact that he nearly beheaded you at first sight.
"Have you received our recent letter and flowers?" A long silence follows, before you reluctantly nod. Your hand throbs as you open and close it out of habit. You just removed the bandages this morning, but the unbearable itch to reopen the scars is too tempting. Steel eyes are immediately drawn to the movement. "I see. Then I won't drag this out. Prefect, could we prove to you our sincerity to make amends?"
"What do you mean?"
"Exactly as I said. Please let our dorm express to you our sincerity to mend our relationship." The intensity of his eyes makes you sick to your stomach.
"You've apologized enough, Housewarden Rosehearts. I'm sure your card soldiers have too." Subconsciously, your hand drifts toward your neck.
He winces. No doubt it must be a sting to his pride that his numerous penned letters weren't acknowledged. "It's not just about apologies. We want to start over–turn over a new leaf, if you will, for our relationship. It would be a disgrace to the Queen of Hearts herself if I could not atone for what I've done."
Always with the rules. You're not entirely sure what Riddle means when he says 'mending your relationship', but it seems he's already set his mind to it. It would be hard pressing to get him to change his mind now.
"...sure." You reluctantly acquiesce. The tips of your nails brush against scarred skin before drawing back. You shouldn't. It took so long for the wounds to close again, for sinew to piece itself together, and for skin to finally grow back. You don't want another lecture by Crewel or Trein.
He brightens considerably with a look of relief. "Good. Then, please wait for our call." 
You watch in confusion as he trots off hurriedly after another deep bow. Wait for our call? What does that–
Something buzzes, and you realize it's your phone, lighting up with a notification from Magicam. You frown, tapping on the icon. A message? 
cay4cay sent a message request
The second you processed the username and profile picture, you instantly hit the block button. With a frustrated scowl, you shove the phone into your pocket. You deleted Yuu's account and only had a burner account for info purposes. How the hell did that social butterfly find your handle?
You groan. This is all too much.
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iii. Paying Respects
A letter arrives, but not by mail.
A jarring commotion rudely rips you from sleep's embrace. You groggily sit up, blinking once, twice, before realizing the noises were very much real and still happening. Who is this loud on a Sunday morning? Grim continues to snooze right next to you, unperturbed by the disturbances. You debate whether it's worth it to get out of the comfy covers. Then another yell echoes up to the room and you groan in annoyance. 
You slam the entrance doors open, ready to give the lecture of a lifetime before you stop in your tracks. 
Deuce Spade looks like he wants the ground to swallow him up whole. Even Ace Trappola, haughty asshole that he is, looks thoroughly ashamed to be caught in a compromising pose. The scene is so familiar that you can't seem to be confused. It takes a second of awkward staring from all three of you before you realize that you're still standing in your thin pajamas, out front in the public entryway in the cold.
"...May I help you?" The distant polite inquiry has them both flinching. They scramble to their feet, brushing off dirt and debris from their fist fight. 
"We're very sorry!" Deuce bows deeply, while Ace scoffs and looks away.
"Housewarden Riddle told us to give you this, so…" Ace shoves a white envelope with a seal boasting a crown insignia into your hands. The Queen of Hearts. You exhale through your nose. So this is what Riddle meant earlier.
You open the envelope gingerly, carefully inspecting it as if it were some kind of trap.
"We're going to have a party soon." Ace is still determinedly avoiding your eyes. "You can come…if you want."
You hold back a sardonic chuckle. Even after everything that's happened, he's trying to act like some kind of cool, suave guy. Your eyes drop down again and you open up the flap to reveal the elegant crimson cursive that decorates the paper.
You're cordially invited to Heartslabyul's monthly tea party. Please send your response ASAP.
Date: XX/05
Time: 14:00 - 17:00
A silence lingers in the air, heavy as a rock. You can tell without looking that the two were holding bated breaths waiting for your reply.
This certainly was out of the blue. But. It was Ace and Deuce. Riddle may have issued the order, but they must've taken initiative in delivering her majesty's decree. Stubborn and tenacious, yet they were still endearing with their loyal friendship. Who in this world would run across a whole desert for you?
That wasn't for you though. The intrusive thought immediately makes your lips thin. The card soldiers shift at the subtle expression change, nervousness painted all over their faces.
You would be lying if you said you weren't curious. Why an invitation to a tea party? It was rather unlike Heartslabyul–or at least most of them–to be indirect like this.
"Sure. I'll be there. I can bring Grim, right?" You flip over the card and envelope, raising an eyebrow at their stunned faces.
"Wait, you serious?" Ace stutters. His ruby eyes blink rapidly as his mouth gapes open. It’s clear he wasn’t expecting you to actually say yes.
"Why would I waste my time lying to you?" You sigh, crossing your arms. Granted, you never did send any response back to that ostentatious bouquet, but you were already preoccupied with the hundred of other letters and packages flooding your mailbox. 
"In that case, of course Grim can come!" Deuce says, looking like he's been released from an entire burden off his chest. It was no doubt plaguing him on what your answer would be.
"Great." You wave a careless hand, turning to close the door. You're so ready to go back under soft bed covers. "You can give my answer to your housewarden. See you then."
A hand grabs at your arm and tugs you back suddenly. You turn and open your mouth–
"You! You're the one that caused Yuu to shut down!!"
Wind blasts past you, leaving a thin trickle of blood down your cheek. Eyes wide, all you can do is stare at furious crimson eyes glaring you down.
"-Hey!" 
Those eyes. It's the same bloody crimson. The same sharp glint of raw bloodlust. Your right cheek aches terribly. Cold sweat runs down your back. Try as you might, you cannot suppress the reactive instinct to flee.
"Don't touch me." Your terse response has Ace retracting his own hand immediately. 
"S-sorry, sorry–" He’s scrambling to get past his mistake. If you were in a better state of mind, you would've laughed at his genuinely flustered state. "I–I didn't mean to grab you like that, it’s just that–"
"We also have something else.” Deuce cuts in, trying to cover for Ace’s blunder. He shoves something warm under your nose, and it takes a hot minute to process what you’re smelling. 
Lavender. The cookies within his hands are simple and aren’t decorated, but the buttery floral aroma they emit leaves you salivating. You slowly take it from his hands, staring at the carefully packaged bag. 
“...From Trey,” Deuce offers hesitantly after seeing your surprised expression. His tight expression and stiff posture betrays the way he is attempting to look respectable. “He's wanted to send you something for a while now.”
For a while? His dorm mates were all clambering to get any crumb of response from you. He might've had the manners then to understand that you wouldn't be delighted to hear from someone who only watched from the sidelines as you were being attacked. Did he only wait because his beloved housewarden didn't move yet? How typical.
“Tell him thanks for me.” The two of them shuffle their feet while exchanging glances at your freezing cold tone. 
"Don't mind us, prefect." Deuce elbows Ace, causing the red head to click his tongue and glare back. "Sorry for bothering you like this–we'll get going now!"
The two actually leave without more fuss, leaving you to twirl the invitation in trepidation.
When you look down again, the flowy calligraphy has been smudged by your fingers, ink blooming on your skin like blood.
"What does one wear to a tea party, Sam?" 
The question slips out before you know it, making the store keeper turn around and raise an eyebrow at you.
"And why is our little imp curious?" He teases. At your unamused face, his face splits into a garish grin.
"Perhaps you should ask Professor Crewel. After all, he does have quite the fashion sense." Sam strokes his chin in thought. "While we do have some outfits here, it might be best to get advice from someone who has been to these kinds of events."
And so, you find yourself standing in front of an indifferent Divus Crewel, who takes one look at you and takes another drag from his fashionable cigarette holder. He continues to shuffle through papers, all the while shaking his head.
“I should’ve known Sam would be the one to send you.” His voice sounds annoyed, yet carries no weight of anger. Much like how his bark is worse than his bite, Crewel isn’t one to heartlessly turn you away. “A tea party, you said?”
“Sam recommended that I go to you since you have more experience in this sort of thing.” Crewel does another critical once over of you, no doubt estimating your measurements for the look he’s thinking of. As expected of a former Pomefiore housewarden. He seems to already have an idea of what outfit would be best.
“I’ll help you, but you’re running some errands for me first, pup.” 
You shouldn’t have expected anything less from the alchemy professor. Now you’re stuck picking out ingredients in the botanical garden while you’re waiting for him to get the materials together for your outfit. 
Of all the botanical zones, it just had to be the tropical zone. The harsh artificial lights shine down as you lean down to pick herbs. While the temperature is bearable, you don't know how much more sweat your outfit can take before it gets soaked completely. The humidity is choking, and you feel dizzy from both the moisture and heat clouding your senses.
“Prefect?” 
You look up wearily from basil plants to see Cater Diamond in his labwear, with a face that mirrors your stunned expression.
Give me a break. Immediately, your awkward customer service smile falls in place. First her Majesty, then Tweedle Dee and Dum, and now the March Hare? But Cater knows how to read the room. Maybe he'll know to let it go–
Your hopes are dashed as he immediately bounces up to you with a grin. “Didn't think I'd run into ya like this. Whatcha doing here?”
“Er, Crewel wanted my help with getting him ingredients…” This conversation was quickly swerving into awkward territory. “Why are you here?”
“Ah, you know…” Cater chuckles sheepishly, “I got assigned to water the plants…”
You take notice of the steel watering can in his gloved hands, then the long green hose by his boots. “Ah.” 
“Guess that means we’ll be working together!” He chirps cheerfully and you cringe. Seven, anything but that! You quickly turn back to your basket and begin to pick up the pace in harvesting the basil. The quicker you finish, the faster you can get out of this deathly awkward situation.
“By the way, Acey and Deucey wouldn’t stop chatting about you accepting our invitation!” You flinch as Cater idles up next to you, using the hose to spray a generous amount of water over the patch of herbs. “It was pretty cute to see, y’know.”
“R-really?”
"Trey was also glad too. He and Riddle have been planning to make it the best tea party ever," he mock emphasizes. "They've been running the dorm ragged over the party deets. Cay Cay's been so busy with planning stuff!"
"That's not really necessary…" A feeling of guilt worms into your guts for a moment. You squash it. What Riddle and the others do is none of your business and no obligation of yours. 
"Right? That's what I said too!" Is he implying that you're the reason there's more work than usual? How shameless is he?
After a good minute of dead silence, Cater pipes up again.
"Sooo, prefect, whatcha been up to lately?"
You can't take it anymore. 
“Why are you talking like I have a gun to your head?” 
Ever since he made his presence known, he's adopted a high pitched cheery tone that grates on your ears. It was akin to a customer service voice, but you know Cater. That's his influencer speak.
Cater's chipper smile vanishes instantly.
"Whaaaat?!" You catch a glimpse of his snaggle tooth in his exclamation. He quickly turns and moves to water a patch of sprouts further away, "Like, what are you even talking about? You know ol' Cay Cay's just trying to lighten the mood!"
More like he's desperately trying to appeal to you. He knows which attitude will get him the most views, and the best expressions to rake in likes and comments. You often thought that trait was endearing in its own way when you saw him as a fictional character. Now that you're dealing with him as a human being, it just pisses you off to no end. How could he? You know Cater isn't known for his genuineness but….you thought he would at least act his usual aloof casual self. Then you would know that it wouldn't matter if you offended him.
The straw basket is finally filled with everything Crewel asked you for. It's with dirtied skin and sore muscles that you turn towards the exit without sparing Cater a glance.
"If you say so, Diamond." You hurl the words like a molotov cocktail, and it's very effective. Cater's eyebrows twitch and his hands clench around the watering can. It's one thing to call him by his last name, it's another to completely blow off the nickname he blatantly shoves onto you. "See you later at the party."
“Wait, wait, time out for a second!! Can you at least unblock me on Magicam?” The last sentence makes you freeze in your tracks.
When you turn around, Cater’s somehow still smiling that insincere smile of his. Your neck prickles with dread.
You trust me now, right? His crinkled lime green eyes gleam.
You're not fooled. He is desperate to appeal to you not from genuine adoration, but rather guilty obligation. Although he tried to scrub it from his Magicam profile, you saw the blurry reels and pictures of you fleeing for your life. The detailed descriptions underneath. Each one boasting deliberate timestamps meant for best exposure. He put a bounty on your head with his own hands.
Two can play at that game.
"Block you? I don't have a Magicam account," is your dry response. Cater continues to smile as his eyes close.
"Really? I swear that it was you…" His lips jut out in an insincere pout, tilting his head. You shrug apathetically, hoping the conversation runs itself dead.
"Well, if you do make one, hit me up okay?" Cater calls out after your retreating back.
Once you're in the school corridors and catching your breath, you dig your phone out with shaky hands and pull up Magicam.
Hitting delete account has never felt more relieving.
The outfit, in your quiet opinion, was not worth the mental gymnastics you had to do in the botanical garden. Not that you were going to say anything to the very teacher who has been known to treat his students like barking dogs.
"It should fit just fine," Crewel smooths out the crinkles in the fabric before handing it to you. "Go on now. Try it on."
A simple white with a red ribbon bow tie and black slacks. It was rather simple, which is just fine. You didn't need or want to stand out in this party. But you certainly didn't want to end up looking like a slob either. This suit your needs quite nicely.
Smoothing down your shirt, you give a spin as Crewel looks on unimpressed. He waves you off with a dry "Don't expect me to do any more favors for you, pup." You mischievously grin and wave him goodbye as you trot off with your clothes in tow.
The last rays of the sun sets the hallway ablaze with orange and yellow hues. You hum as you take the familiar pathway back to Ramshackle. With everything crazy that’s been going on lately, it gets too easy to be swept up in the moment. As you watch the shadows flicker between the stone pillars, you slow down to observe the scenery for a bit.
The sunset catches a glint and reflects bright white for a moment. You blink and it’s gone when you focus. You stop, confused at the intrusion. 
A loud click echoes behind you, but when you whip around, there’s nothing but the empty hallways.
You stand for a moment in place, waiting and listening apprehensively. Nothing else happens, and it’s with cautious paranoia that you turn around and start speed walking.
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iiii. Funeral
It would be impolite to show up to a party without something.
But now as you're standing before the mirror leading to Heartslabyul, you're having second thoughts.
What if it isn't good? You glance down at your box containing the simple custard puddings you were able to make just last night. You didn't really have the skills to make complicated sweets and the puddings only took three ingredients. And your outfit, what if it isn't up to the Queen of Hearts' rules–
"C'mon, [First]! Or else the food will be gone by the time we get there!"
You breathe out a giggle. "I don't think anyone can beat you on your eating speed, Grim."
"You don't know that!" He hops up and down impatiently, waiting for you to adjust the box in your hands.
Right, who cares about any of that?
You follow your companion through the warped glass.
The fresh spring breeze graces you first, then the refreshing scent of flora, and finally, the warmth of the sun on your skin. When you open your eyes, the stretch of viridian green pastures and vibrant flowers greets you. The land of Heartslabyul is as picturesque as you remembered on screen. It feels unreal.
And waiting for you at the end of the path is the very first dorm you've befriended.
"Weird. Where's everyone at?" Grim grumbles, ears twitching in irritation.
The entrance is completely devoid of any human presence. You don’t sense anyone in the building either, which is completely strange. 
Grim's right. Where is everyone? For an incoming tea party, wouldn’t there be various students rushing in and out for the preparations?
“Perhaps they’re in the maze?” You glance warily over to the tall hedges that bloom with beautiful roses. “Should we wait?”
“Ugh, that’s so rude of ‘em to keep us hangin’ though! I say we go lookin’ for them. Who knows how long we gotta stand out here!” Grim shakes his head, distraught at the thought of having to wait for his food. "Let's go to the kitchen!"
"You just want to see if you can eat something." You tut at Grim's scheming face. 
"Mya, so what?!" He yowls. "I'm going and you can't stop me!"
"Grim, wait–" You call anxiously, but your companion is already scampering off into the dorm. You're left with no choice but to take a deep steadying breath and press on. 
But the kitchen room is also empty when the two of you pop in. However, it seems like it was used recently, if not for the smell, then the sight of various dishes laid out on the counter would have clued you in. You sneakily compare your puddings to the spread laid out before you and wonder again if it isn't too late to put them away in a dark corner.
"What do you have there, prefect?" A low voice breathes in your ear. 
You and Grim shriek in tandem, with you almost fumbling and dropping your box and Grim’s signature sharp nails digging into your shins.
The looming presence behind you is revealed to be Trey Clover, who has an apologetic face after spooking the two of you. At least he is conscientious. 
"My bad, my bad," he chuckles, "I should've been more obvious about my arrival." He places a steady hovering hand behind your back. Just barely touching, yet close enough to feel its heat. Embarrassingly, the feeling is soothing enough that you can't find it in yourself to pull away.
"Sheesh, for real! You took some of my life with that, y'know Trey!" Grim hisses, detaching his claws from your poor legs. Trey only laughs and ruffles his head.
"I’m sorry about that Grim. Anyway, you guys came just in time," Trey begins to transfer the dishes onto a wheeled cart. "Food just needs to be carried out and the tea party can begin—but you have something, don't you?"
Regret seeps in when you think of your sad puddings next to all these gorgeous pastries and appetizers. 
“Uhm, I don’t think it’s really needed since you got all this,” you laugh sheepishly as your hands automatically hide the box behind your back.
“No way.” Trey’s smile is warm but firm. When he gently guides your hands to give up the box, you can’t find it in yourself to protest. “It can’t be that bad, since you made it.”
You're struck silent, and Trey immediately takes advantage of your state to press his hand to your back to usher you forward. His fingertips graze your side, and for a second, you swear his lips quirk into a smirk.
You follow alongside Trey as he pushes the cart out through the door.
"By the way, I'm happy to hear you liked the lavender cookies." You look over to see the baker smile warmly. "I would've tried something with the candied violets I had, but I ran out just as I was making them." He sighs as he shakes his head.
Something with the way he's worded it makes it sound like there was more to the story, but you don't care enough to pry further. Trey's golden orbs slide to meet yours discreetly, and you realize he's waiting for you to respond. You murmur an apathetic response back, and he visibly droops.
It's a long, quiet walk through the rose maze.
It seems your arrival with Trey threw everyone off guard. You don't know why they look so alarmed: the venue looks absolutely resplendent. Colorful lanterns dot the tree lines, swinging back and forth cheerily with brightly colored flags. The long table is draped with fine cloth embroidered with intricate lace patterns. There's not a single wrinkle to be seen in the fabric. And the rose bushes, blooming with both red and white roses, are pruned cleanly, not a leaf or branch out of place.
It is a tea party fit for the Queen of Hearts.
"And the guest of honor is finally here!" Easygoing as ever, Cater calls out jauntily to you both. He seems to be the only one not visibly panicking. "Trey, what took ya so long?"
"Had to get the dishes here, you know." He shoots a knowing glare at Cater, who flinches with a sheepish smile. "Someone was supposed to help me, which would've made it a lot faster."
Ah. Cater giggles nervously while twirling his hair. Ace and Deuce exchange disbelieving looks before shaking their heads. 
“Welcome, prefect.” Riddle greets you with a stiff bow. "And Grim." He hastily adds, seeing your companion’s face twist sulkily. The action makes you smile, if only for a moment.
“We’ve been waiting forever for you, Yuu—” Deuce jabs an elbow sharply into Ace’s side, making him cough and sputter mid sentence, but the damage has already been done. Another awkward silence reigns as everyone’s fearful faces are directed at you, trying to figure out how to best traverse the conversational minefield. 
“W-What Acey meant to say is–” Cater is cut off immediately.
"Uh, er, come to think of it, what's your actual name?" Deuce is the one who pushes forward despite everyone else’s horrified looks. As if he had uttered a profane exclamation.
"My…name?" You echo back. 
Right. Since all they knew was the puppet, they didn't know your true name. Heavy silence hovers in the air, even Grim was looking at you in anticipation.
"My name is…" Something chokes your throat. Reluctance? Or fear? 
"[First]. [First] [Last]."
They mutter it among themselves, tasting the syllables and weaving the rhythms of the letters. How strange. With sugar coated lips, their voices ring like church bells for prayer. You're born anew, for the way they look at you is enough to make your heart soar for several fleeting seconds. 
For a brief moment, you could believe that you were with your Heartslabyul again.
The tea party begins like a baby animal: slow, unsure, and always in danger of stumbling to the ground. But it’s Heartslabyul, and who else would know how to best host a party for its guests?
By the time the tea is being poured into your cups, a steady conversation has started naturally flowing between all of you.
“Is there something the matter?” Riddle asks for the nth time as he worriedly gazes at the way your eyes stray to the hedges and whimsical decorations beyond the table.
"Oh uhm…” You hesitate, still not meeting Riddle’s worried face. “Why are the roses both red and white? I thought one of your rules is that tea parties always have white roses." 
Riddle exchanges a look with Trey at your question. 
"That is true, [First], however…" He pauses, before continuing with a determined look. "Red and white roses are customary for parties celebrating with new friends."
“New…friends?” Your hand is frozen at your teacup.
Something fiercely warm fills your chest. There's cautious hope glimmering in Riddle and Trey's eyes. That wasn’t fair. How could they say something like that and not expect you to react? 
The party ends on a light note unlike its stiff beginning. The soldiers gather to see you and Grim off, but once Grim scampers off with his leftovers in paw, her Majesty moves to your side.
“Prefect–no, [First], would you come again?” He asks. His hands are trembling, tugging at your sleeve timidly like a young child again. “F-For an Unbirthday party, of course!”
It’s a request that’s not selfish, you note. Her Majesty’s card soldiers look on expectantly behind their monarch, and it takes everything within you to not collapse. 
“Of course. I can’t wait for it already.”
Your heart weighs heavy. They do not know that the promise is an empty white lie. Though you cherish them, you do not wish to act the role of a doll whose purpose is to play house. 
When they looked at you with those pleading eyes, who did they see? 
Yuu, the puppet they adored for its safe default responses and supportive words?
Or you, the player who has their own flaws and biased personality?
It's okay, you reason.
They won't be able to tell the difference between clay and flesh.
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v. Burial
You have a hunch about Yuu.
Only a guess based on many hypotheticals, but better than nothing.
If the puppet stopped working when you arrived, then shouldn't it go without saying that if you left this world, that it would return back to life?
The wooden door creaks open, stirring up dust and sending it flying into the air. You cough and sneeze, waving your hand to disperse the irritant. Serves you right. After all, you refused to step into this room since Yuu's body was hauled here. Didn't even dare to come clean the room. The dust settles and you can finally make out the puppet's silhouette from the waning light rays of the window.
It still adorns its proper NRC uniform, wrinkled in the spots where you had lifted it. It hasn't moved at all from its sprawled pose on the sofa. You remember the dread at realizing the only fitting school uniform you could possibly wear was on this puppet. It only cemented your resolve to break away from the puppet's image. Even if you had to resort to clearing out ancient closets and haggling with faculty, you'd rather take the raggedy shawls and worn flannel over the crisp blazer and button up the puppet wore. 
Its skin has become ashen gray, drained of any life. Old joints creaked in agony when you adjusted it to a sitting position for better examination. For a while, the both of you stare at each other.
Despair tugs at your mind. How long will you be trapped in this world? Has the Headmaster even done anything to help you get home? You snort. He couldn’t even bother doing anything when it was just the vessel. Why would that change now? 
Can you hear me?
The voice, so quiet yet clear, makes you whip your head around. No one's in the room. Are you finally going crazy?
You can hear me, right?
Is one of the ghosts playing a prank on you? You can't pinpoint the source of the voice at all.
I'm here–look!
With dread and fear pooling in your heart, your head turns slowly to meet the doll's eyes; whose pupils are now fixated on you.
The urge to scream and push away the doll is overwhelming. But in a world where the supernatural is natural, you suppose that dolls that can speak are the least impossible thing out there.
I can help you find your way home.
You swallow thickly. Pursing your lips, your grip on its arms tightens as you lean in. Something stirs, and it’s crazy, but you swear it hums in pleasure.
Listen to what I say carefully…
-
Decorations? Check. Refreshments? Check.
Outfits? Check.
So why does it feel like there's something missing?
"What's wrong, Riddle?" He turns to see Trey's concerned face. He gives an awkward smile back.
"I'm not quite sure, but something feels amiss." He explains, rubbing his neck. It's obvious enough to make him feel the familiar slivers of irritation slither through him. 
He tries to will it away. It's a good day, and there was nothing to be angry about. The player–no, [First]–had decided to give them a chance and agreed to come over to celebrate an Unbirthday party with them. Ace and Deuce are behaving as good, law-abiding card soldiers should be. The roses were saturated with dripping red, the dormouse had its nose smeared with jam–so what is this itch that won't go away?
"We can do a double check of everything again," Trey offers gently. “It shouldn’t take too long.”
Riddle shakes his head. “It’s almost time for them to arrive. I will not have them waiting on something that isn’t even a problem.”
“Housewarden~!” Speak of the devil. He turns with a frown at Ace’s loud shout, but it fades to a small smile when he sees you trailing after Ace.
"Hello, Riddle." You smile warmly at him, and his cheeks flush pink.
Wait. He stops. Have you ever called his name? He doesn’t have time to ponder this before he’s interrupted by Trey and Cater bringing in the food.
When everyone is seated and the party is in swing, he notices something.
“Is the food not to your liking, [First]?” He inquires as politely as possible, softening his tone to make it sound less accusatory.
You fluster, waving a hand. “Not at all. I’m just not that hungry right now.”
He decides to leave it, because it’s not as if it’s wrong, per se, if the guest wasn’t eating. He recalls Ace’s previous words to him.
“Housewarden, you really should loosen up a bit! Otherwise you’re gonna end up being a killjoy!”
He may be many things, but he is not a killjoy! Just because he was particular about certain things doesn’t mean he didn’t know how to let go.
But something feels off.
Then he realizes that while the conversation is flowing as usual, you are hardly speaking at all. You only speak when directly spoken to, and even then, it’s short, clipped responses.
He watches incredulously as you pour yourself a cup of tea and then drink it.
The golden scepter materializes in his hand as easily as breathing.
Everyone else reacts explosively, looking alarmed at the scene unfolding. Meanwhile, you merely stare blankly at the end of the scepter nearly several inches from your nose.
"Riddle, hold the phone, what are you doing?!" He barely hears Cater's frantic voice to his left. He's too focused on the way that…that thing is not reacting at all. 
"You. Where is [First]?"
It's silent for a moment, and then a disturbing crooked grin breaks out from its poker face. It starts cackling loudly and it makes his blood start boiling. 
"Start speaking or it's off with your head!" He screeches, scepter shaking uncontrollably in his hands.
"Boo, I was hoping you guys were stupid enough to fall for it.” The thing taunts, leaning back in their chair. 
Red fills his vision. How dare this thing use your visage and breath such vile words? Before he could register it, his arm swipes across. By the time his eyes clear and his breathing steadies, he's staring at a decapitated body that is mangled beyond repair. 
It takes another moment to realize he is not the only one who has raised their magical pen.
Trey is at his right, golden eyes dark as Riddle realizes he positioned himself to shield him. Cater mirrors Trey, but his arms are visibly shaking and his eyes keep switching from him to the broken body on the trimmed lawn. Ace and Deuce had positioned themselves to the backside, but they too, barely seem to be holding themselves together, clenched fists at the ready for physical blows.
“What…” he breathes, “is going on?”
The only answer he gets is the wind whistling through the grass blades.
He collapses to his knees as he fumbles with a body that has been torn asunder, but instead of flesh and bones, he only finds clay and chipped resin.
“What have we done?”
1K notes · View notes
heartelysia · 3 months
Text
busy thinking of...
toxic ex! gojo who only broke up with you because he needed to move on! at least he thought he did until you did move on without him, leaving him in the dust. he tries his best to forget about you! he really does, sinking his head into his palms the same way hes sinking his cock into the girl below him. but nothing feels good, nothing can make the aching emptiness in his chest go away, not if its not you.
god he didnt even notice how intoxicated he was with you until you left. you were everything he needed to fucking survive and you just up and left like your three year long relationship was nothing? toxic ex! gojo who will do anything for you back, buying a cup of overpriced coffee at your regular place just to bump heads with you every single day, buying you random flowers and leaving them in your break room of your workplace, texting you non stop even when you blocked most of his accounts.
toxic ex! gojo whos anger boils in the pit of his stomach when you rejected all of his advances, blaming you for all wrongdoings because this would've never happened if you loved him more! he would've mever broken up with you, he wouldnt have to go to the earths ledge for a tiny spark in your 'relationship', he would never have to end up with a fucking restraining order.
hes mad. hes mad that you moved on, hes angry that you left him without begging to stay together, hes furious that your life isn't in shambles. toxic ex! gojo needs you dependant on him, he cant just have you wandering off to another person so easily next time. so he does what any sane person does and stalks you from a distance until the restraining order expires, watching your life unfold in his hollow blue eyes.
dear lord knows how many things toxic ex! gojo has done to try and forget you but nothing seemed to work! from getting into multiple relationships, getting a brand new job in an area he has no experience in to travelling the world, yet everything he did seemed to remind him of your sweet smile.
as any other human being would do, as soon as the document hits its end, he shreds it up and makes his way to your home. you seemed too happy, forgetting about your ex entirely, getting random flings, meeting some new dude called toji, going on dates with said man. toxic ex! gojo couldnt allow that, you were his. you were his property even if you didnt know it and gojo didnt like sharing his property with others.
toxic ex! gojo who couldnt help but notice how many of your flings resembled him, personality or appearance wise, there was always something similar to your ex. that was until toji came into the picture, he was nothing like gojo and your ex felt his veins bulge in irritation. he was your first everything - from hand holding, kissing, picnic dates to sex - so you should still be with him!
he needed you back, he needed you to crawl back to him and plead for forgiveness but that never came. toxic ex! gojo who would break into your apartment when youre on dates with the new man, scoffing when he realizes you still left a spare copy of the keys behind the painting hanging above your door. god you were so easy. when hes inside your apartment, hes hit with the fattest wave of nostalgia.
he instantly heads into your shabby room that gojo stayed in whenever, inhaling the scent of your sweetness like it was an addictive drug. he swears theres a hint of his musk but it might just be someone elses considering its been two years. toxic ex! gojo didnt like that. he fucking hated that idea.
maybe thats how he ended up here, his voice whiny and airy as he desperately humps your pillow as he shoves his nose into the area where it covered your cunt. his poor cock was aching, his tip a burning red colour as the veins running down his thick cock throbbed each time he took a whiff of your panties. god he was so needy, after months of being unable to reach a satisfactory climax, just the feeling of rutting his hips into your pillow that you used daily made precum dribble out of his cock in buckets.
whilst youre happily on the date with toji, gojo is busy having seconds by staining any and all surface in his cum discreetly. he thinks hes never came this much just from masturbating, his balls wrung dry to the core just by the memory of your sweet cunt sloppily making a mess all over his balls and pelvis.
but when the front door of your apartment creaks open, gojo freezes, unable to hide the initial shock on his face. why were your sobs filling the silence?
part 2
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