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pin-k-ink · 2 days

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capitance // gojo satoru

tw ⇢ teacher-student relationship, implied age gap, dub-con, sexual tension, teasing, aphrodisiacs, fingering, manhandling, hair pulling, making out, squirting

wc ⇢ 9.2k

The training room was thick with tension as you kicked off the floor, spinning through the air with a flurry of calculated strikes. Gojo watched appraisingly, that intense gaze of his seeming to pierce straight through you as you danced around invisible foes.

"Again," he commanded simply after you'd completed the sequence.

You nodded, sweat already beading on your brow as you reset your stance and began the intricate forms once more. Gojo's first official student - those words were both a privilege and a burden. He pushed you harder than anyone, expected more, demanded you dig deeper and find those hidden reserves of power and potential.

"Keep your core tighter on that transition," he cut in sternly, circling around you. "You're leaving yourself exposed."

You adjusted accordingly, muscles straining with the effort of perfecting each move, each block and strike. Gojo could be relentless and his criticism unsparing, but it only fueled your drive to improve further. To quieten that insufferably arrogant voice that insisted you needed to be stronger, faster, better.

Finally, trembling with exertion, you completed the last hit and stood panting. Gojo was silent for a long moment, considering you through those impenetrably dark lenses of his.

"Adequate," he said at last with a slight nod. "We're done for today."

It was probably the highest compliment he gave, and you tried not to let the swell of pride show on your sweat-soaked face. As you reached for your towel, Gojo lightly trailed his fingertips along the back of your arm in a disarmingly gentle gesture.

"Soon you'll make a decent opponent for me," he murmured lowly. "I look forward to it."

A shiver raced through you at his touch, at the edge of challenge and something else deeper in his graveled words. You stared up at him, caught in the latent intensity you so often glimpsed burning behind those obscuring lenses.

Gojo had been your mentor for years now, but recently it felt like something had...shifted between you. Charged the air with undercurrents and implications you couldn't quiteput a name to. He always kept you off-kilter, doubting, wanting to prove your worth.

"Maybe then you'll stop going so easy," you countered a bit breathlessly.

The barest ghost of a smirk played across his lips at your daring reciprocation. "Is that a request to be...rougher?"

You felt your face flush hot at his deliberately ambiguous phrasing, at how easily he could fluster you. Gritting your teeth, you willed yourself not to look away from that probing stare. Two could play at these games of provocation he so often instigated between you.

"If that's what it takes for you to take me seriously," you shot back with faux bravado.

Gojo chuckled darkly at that, leaning down closer until you were nearly eye-to-eye. Until his lips were a scant few inches from yours. The sudden shift of proximity, of charged tension, went straight to your core.

"Be careful what you wish for," he warned in that low, almost purring timbre. "I just might take you up on that offer..."

Then, as quickly as the charged moment had ignited between you, Gojo straightened and the spell was broken. Ruffling your damp hair fondly, he turned and began gathering his things, leaving you flustered and frustrated and yearning for...more of whatever that had been.

Over the next few weeks, Gojo seemed to delight in finding new ways to unsettle and provoke you during training sessions. He'd "correct" your stances with lingering hands on your waist or thighs, stands just a bit too close so you felt the heat of his body behind yours, murmur directives in a lowered timbre against the back of your neck.

Each time you'd stiffen, gulp, fighting off the shiver that wanted to race through you at his intentional closeness, at the implication of intimacy in his simplest actions and words. You refused to be the one to back down first from this dangerous game of batted glances and loaded innuendos.

"Is this making you uncomfortable?" Gojo purred one afternoon as he pressed a palm flat on your abdomen, ostensibly adjusting your core position.

You bit your lip, trying not to focus too much on the firm planes of the muscle underneath your hands as you grasped his forearms to keep steady.

"Not at all, sensei," you replied in a tone that was almost convincingly even. "I'm just focused on my training."

"Is that so?" he rumbled, and you could hear the dark amusement in his tone as his fingers drifted perilously lower on your torso. "My apologies if I'm... distracting you."

You sucked in a sharp breath at the clear challenge and suggestion there. Gathering your nerve, you glanced up at him through lowered lashes.

"I think I can handle whatever you dish out," you countered boldly.

Gojo's eyes narrowed at that, a frisson of interest and something more feral flickering through them as he held your daring gaze. His thumb stroked along the jut of your hipbone in a maddening caress.

"We'll just have to see about that, won't we?"

The tension mounted exponentially after that. Each exchange, each sultry look and whispered barb became foreplay - seductive promises and indirect invitations laced into every innocuous interaction. The air between you grew heavy with unsated wanting, with the thrill of denial and dawning need that you could both sense but refused to name aloud.

It was like existing in a constant state of sweet, aching suspense. Training was suddenly rife with stolen glances, with Gojo's fingertips lingering a moment too long on your sweat-slicked skin as he repositioned your forms. You drank in every bead of perspiration on his brow, every ghost of a smirk, ready to catch it and mirror the heated challenge right back.

And always lurking there were those maddening contradictions - Gojo's disarming affection and casual intimacy, like ruffling your hair or hip-checking you playfully, even as his clever tongue wove heated innuendos and goading flirtations. Masterfully keeping you off-balance and inwardly aching for something, anything to finally break and put an end to the delicious tension.

It was a dizzying, dizzying dance of provocation and restraint, of silent dares and loaded silences. All made even headier by the forbidden dynamics of student and master. You knew things were swiftly reaching a precipice - that one of you would eventually shatter and make an irrevocable move.

The only uncertainty was who would be the one to finally crumble and give into temptation first.

The next afternoon you entered the training room, muscles still deliciously sore from the previous day's exertions. Gojo was already there stretching languidly, shirt riding up to reveal a tantalizing glimpse of taut abdominal muscles.

"You're late," he remarked without looking up, voice laden with perpetual displeasure.

"Sorry sensei," you replied, perhaps a touch too lightly as you stepped onto the mats. "I got...distracted."

That made him turn, eyebrow quirked as he regarded you with an inscrutable expression. An unspoken challenge seemed to pass between you in the crackling silence as you held his piercing stare. As if he knew you were being purposefully obtuse and debating whether to call you on it or not.

In the end, Gojo simply scoffed and shook his head, rising fluidly to his feet.

"Just get warmed up," he commanded gruffly. "We have work to do."

You smirked at his ruffled demeanor but obediently began your stretches, relishing the slight burn as you extended into each position. Every innocent movement and breath suddenly felt charged, infused with latent awareness and heat between you.

Across the room, Gojo retrieved something from a small locker - one of the heavy-duty combination safes, you realized with a start. He extracted a handful of vibrantly colored gummy candies from within, popping a few into his mouth as he turned back toward you with a contemplative look.

"You know, I've been having the most puzzling problem lately," he mused offhandedly. "It seems my stash of confections has been getting...depleted recently."

Your heart stuttered at his words, cheeks flushing guiltily even as you fought to keep your expression neutral. Did he know? How could he? You'd been so careful, moving quickly and soundlessly each time you broke into that unassuming little safe.

"Oh? That's...unfortunate," you replied with studied nonchalance, continuing your stretches.

Gojo hummed absently, gaze suddenly feeling unbearably weighted as it roved over you slowly.

"Yes, quite unfortunate indeed. These imported delicacies are precious commodities. I can't imagine who could possibly be brazen enough to help themselves to private reserves..."

His voice had taken on that low, husky register that never failed to send a shiver of pure want down your spine. You risked a glance up to find him eye-fucking you quite overtly now as he took another tantalizing bite of candy. The sweet burst over his tongue as he drew the confection between his lips with clear relish.

"It would be quite the bold soul, wouldn't you agree?" Gojo murmured darkly. "To steal right from under my nose like that..."

The suggestive metaphor and smoldering look he leveled at you made you falter, nearly missing the next stretch. You swallowed hard, mouth suddenly dry as you met his gaze unwaveringly. Could he tell? Did he suspect you were the thief pilfering his saccharine indulgences?

More importantly...was he goading you to finally admit it? A reckless thrill lanced through you at the idea of being caught red-handed, at whatever molten consequences that could bring with it.

"I-I can't imagine someone being that reckless," you managed to reply, proud at how steady your voice remained despite your hammering heart.

But something must have shown on your face, given you away. Because suddenly Gojo's lips curved in a slow, predatory smile that made heated arousal bloom low in your belly.

"Can't you?" he rumbled, voice dripping sinful suggestion. "How disappointing."

Then, holding your feverishly curious stare captive, Gojo pulled another fat gummy between his lips, letting it rest there a beat before taking it in with a heated suck. You helplessly traced the motion, mesmerized as he rolled the treat over his tongue with clear relish. The air itself seemed to turned molten and cloying sweet.

"Perhaps I've been underestimating you after all," Gojo purred once he'd swallowed. "How...illuminating."

The implications and challenge in his words, in the dark heat of his gaze, made you feel utterly undone. Like all this time he'd been baiting you, waiting to see if you'd rise to taking what you wanted.

And oh how deliciously tempting that forbidden offering looked in the moment...

The revelation that you were the daring culprit behind the missing sweets hung thick and intoxicating between you and Gojo. He didn't voice the accusation aloud, didn't directly confirm his newfound knowledge. But the lingering looks, the subtle curve of amusement on his lips - it was clear he knew the truth now.

And rather than calling you out, rather than chastising his precious student for such boldness...Gojo seemed utterly delighted by your secret transgressions.

Over the next few days, he began leaving out obscenely sized bags of gummies and chocolates near the safe when you trained. Blatant encouragement and permission for you to continue caving to your cloying, covert desires. Each time you'd eye the treats with thinly veiled longing, Gojo would merely arch an eyebrow in silent challenge.

The dare sparked bright in his gaze - go on, try and resist that aching sweet tooth in front of me. We'll see how daring you truly are.

You flushed hotly each time but refused to be the one to break first. To admit to the forbidden cravings that had you sneaking sugary kisses at all hours. Gojo's eyes danced with dark mirth, reveling in your stubbornness even as he clearly plotted to unhinge your resolve.

The tension only thickened when he started bringing in increasingly exotic treats from his travels. Delicacies and confections that made your mouth water just imagining their lavish decadence. Goading you, tempting you to be brave enough to engage in this deliciously subversive game he was orchestrating.

One afternoon, you entered the training room to find Gojo lounging casually, languid and catlike as he slowly sucked on a plump strawberry. The slow drizzle of juice down his lips and chin was utterly obscene. You swallowed thickly, rooted in place as he pulled the fruit from his mouth with an audible pop, lips staining a luscious crimson.

"You know..." he drawled lazily. "These delicacies are meant to be savored and appreciated fully. It's a shame to let them go to waste just gathering dust in a safe, don't you agree?"

The blatant innuendo and heady promise in Gojo's stare made your knees wobble. He lifted the treat with deliberate leisure, letting his tongue glide over the slick, ripe flesh with relish before taking another sinful bite. A droplet of strawberry trailed over his bottom lip, prompting him to slowly, indulgently drag his tongue along to capture it.

The wanton indecency of the display robbed you of breath. Gojo's molten gaze never left yours as he savored every toe-curling second, beckoning you closer to these sinfully lush temptations with each slick sound and motion of his mouth.

You wanted nothing more than to surge forward and chase the lingering taste and sticky sweetness on his lips. To finally break and upend the game entirely by taking what you'd been aching for this entire time.

The sudden heat in Gojo's eyes told you he sensed your wanton desire, that hairsbreadth yearning to shatter control. His tongue swept over his lips again in clear provocation, welcoming you to make your move.

The precipice was there, thrillingly close. Any moment now one of you was going to inevitably tumble over the edge into unbridled temptation.

You could feel the breath stuttering in your lungs as Gojo leisurely licked the glistening juices from his fingers, one by one. His gaze remained firmly locked on yours, hooded and smoldering with unspoken challenge.

The open invitation to finally snap and give in to this tempting game hung thick in the heated air between you. Gojo was practically daring you with each indecent sweep of his tongue to be the one to shatter restraint first.

Your body felt electric with simmering want, with the desperate need to surge forward and chase the lingering sweetness on his lips. To finally claim a taste of the illicit indulgences you'd been coveting from afar for so long.

Slowly, almost mesmerized, you found yourself drifting closer until you were just within arm's reach of your tormenting mentor. Gojo's eyes danced with dark amusement at your faltering resolve, at the way you helplessly traced the path of his tongue with rapt attention.

"Well?" he murmured huskily. "Are you going to continue depriving yourself? Or are you finally going to be brave enough to take what you want?"

His heated words were like a physical caress licking over your heated skin. You shivered at the blatant decadence they promised, at how easily Gojo could undo you with just his low rumbling timbre.

This was it - the breaking point you'd both been choreographing towards through weeks of heated games and sensual broiling tensions. Gojo's eyes glittered with ravenous promise, willing you forward into the abyss of temptation.

He made no move to halt your approach, to put an end to this madness. If anything, his lips curved in a sinful smirk of encouragement as you leaned in those final few torturous inches between you...

Just as your lips were a hairsbreadth away from finally, rapturously connecting with Gojo's in a bursting dam of pent-up desire, you startled yourself by abruptly pivoting at the last second.

Instead of claiming the forbidden taste you'd been desperately coveting, your mouth brushed tantalizingly along the strong line of Gojo's jaw as you let out a quavering exhale. You could have sworn you heard a low, ragged groan rumble from deep within his chest at the denial.

With a dizzying rush of emboldened daring, you didn't stop there. Your lips meandered in a scorching trail along the column of his throat, feeling his pulse hammering wildly beneath as Gojo instinctively tilted his head back.

You could taste the faint tang of salt and clean sweat on his heated skin as your mouth wandered inexorably lower. Dragging over the juncture of his shoulder, the careless V of his half-unbuttoned shirt, until finally—

Until finally you stopped a scant few inches from the object of your true temptation - the ripe, glistening strawberry clutched between Gojo's suddenly tense fingers.

You met his wide, dazed stare through lowered lashes thick with challenge as your lips parted, flicking out the barest tip of your tongue to taste the tantalizing juices beading along the strawberry's plump skin.

The sound Gojo made then was utterly inhuman - a strangled rumble of shocked arousal that went straight to your core. His grip on the fruit went white-knuckled, restraining himself from surging forward and upending this entire dynamic.

But you weren't quite done tormenting your tormentor yet.

Holding his heated gaze firmly captive, you wrapped your lips around the lush curve of strawberry and slowly drew it between them - sucking with maddening leisure until you'd taken the entire treat into your mouth. The rich burst of sweetness flooded your senses as you hollowed your cheeks, deliberately swirling your tongue against the tender flesh in a sinful mimicry of other desires.

Gojo's chest heaved raggedly as he watched you devour the forbidden fruit with shameless indulgence. His pupils were blown wide, lips parted and glistening. You made sure to hold his stare throughout, to let the graphic sounds of your mouth fill the weighted silence.

Only once the strawberry's tart sweetness had been thoroughly savored, only once every last juice was deliriously lapped up, did you finally release the stem from between your lips with a lush pop.

"Sweet," you murmured huskily in blatant understatement. "Though I do prefer...darker indulgences."

The weighted tension that fell between you and Gojo after your brazen strawberry display was so thick it felt suffocating. You could practically taste the roiling desire, the rattled restraint just barely keeping your tormented sensei anchored in place.

His eyes had gone swarthy and predatory, muscles coiled like a panther poised to strike as he visibly warred with himself. For one searing, eternal moment, you thought Gojo might finally snap and launch himself across that diminishing space separating you.

You held your ground, chest heaving shallowly as you boldly met and matched the searing heat of his stare. Silently daring him to upend the dynamics entirely and claim the indulgences he'd been relentlessly goading you towards.

But whether through sheer force of will or shock at your gambit, Gojo's restraint held - for now. His jawline carved into stark definition as he ground his teeth hard enough you worried they might shatter. You could see his throat convulsively working as he swallowed down the growl of pure, unleashed want clearly fighting to break free.

"You..." he rasped at last, voice wrecked in a way you'd never heard before. "You..."

He seemed utterly at a loss in the wake of your subversion. Gojo, who always had the sharp retort, the quick quip to disarm any situation. Now utterly poleaxed into unravelling silence by your unexpected boldness.

You simply arched an eyebrow, feigning innocence despite the thrill of heady power singing through you. Waiting with wicked patience to see if he could regain his footing enough to retaliate and escalate this game...

Gojo's nostrils flared as he sucked in a shuddering breath, pupils still blown wide and fathomless as obsidian. When he found his voice again, it was low and dripping with dark promise.

"This isn't over between us. Not even close."

The stark vow made arousal lance bright and hot through your veins. You refused to be the one to look away first from Gojo's smoldering stare.

"I certainly hope not, sensei," you replied with sugared sweetness. "I'm just getting started."

A muscle ticked high in his cheek at your brazen tone. For a beat, it looked like that might be the breaking point - like Gojo would finally abandon his tattered restraint and surge forward to silence your taunting.

But in the end, he merely expelled a slow, steadying breath through his nose. When next he spoke, his voice was deceptively mild and even. Almost bored, if not for the banked flames still flickering dangerously in his eyes.

"We'll see about that. Don't get cocky, little one. You have no idea what you're playing with."

It was clear dismissal, Gojo gathering the fraying threads of composure around himself like a cloak as he abruptly turned on his heel and stalked out of the training room without another word. But the sheer roiling tension, the promise of retribution still simmered heavily in the air long after he'd departed.

You allowed yourself a small, triumphant smile as you watched him go. Oh yes...this game between you was only just beginning to esculate. And you had every intention of matching Gojo's provacations until one of you finally, inevitably shattered.

The night seemed to hum with potential as you crept through the deserted training hall, footsteps hushed in the stillness. Anticipation thrilled through your veins with every whisper of movement, the familiar clandestine thrill singing bright in your blood.

You knew the path to Gojo's private locker by heart at this point. Could trace the way blindfolded, each turn and shadow ingrained into muscle memory from your countless covert sweet raids over the past months. A secret intimacy in and of itself.

Pausing before the unassuming door concealing your prize, you swiftly spun the dial and entered the familiar combination. The heavy clank of the lock disengaging made you shiver with giddy excitement. With each indulgent foray, the risk of getting inevitably caught only seemed to heighten the forbidden allure.

Anticipation sang bright in your veins as you cracked open the door to Gojo's private sweets locker. A fresh haul of sinfully rich treats awaited you inside - plump macarons glistening with sticky fruit compotes, decadent chocolate-dipped berries, and delicate petit fours drizzled with lavish ganache.

You quickly scanned the sugary bounty before making your selection, already feeling your mouth beginning to water. Plucking up a ruby-red macaron bursting with tart raspberry filling, you brought the delicate pastry to your lips and took an indulgent bite.

Rich cream and bright berry flavors flooded over your tongue as you closed your eyes to better savor the experience. You could feel the sweet jam smearing ever-so-slightly over your lips as you sank your teeth through the tender shell. An absolute sinful indulgence in and of itself.

When you finally opened your eyes again, a wicked thought suddenly occurred to you. You glanced around furtively before reaching into your pocket and pulling out a sleek tube of deep plum lipstick. Holding it up to the dim locker lighting, you examined the shade - dark enough to leave a blatantly unmistakable imprint, yet still an enticing deep berry stain.

Perfect for the deliciously naughty clue you had in mind to leave behind.

With one last conspiratorial look over your shoulder, you used your finger to clean up some of the sticky macaron mess around your lips. Then you applied a generous coat of the dark lipstick, pressing your lips together to evenly disperse the color into a lush pout.

Finally, you leaned over until you were nearly nose-to-nose with the gleaming interior of the sweets locker. Bracing one hand on the cool metal, you turned your head slightly and deliberately pressed an indecent, open-mouthed kiss against the safe's pristine inner lining.

When you pulled back with a soft pop, a blatantly obscene lipstick imprint remained behind in the garish plum pigment. An intimate, sultry calling card that would be impossible for Gojo to overlook the next time he went to indulge himself.

The idea of him discovering such an unabashedly provacative token amidst his precious sweets stash made molten heat bloom low in your belly. Of the confrontation, the delicious escalation that was sure to follow once Gojo realized you were the one flagrantly escalating this game between mentor and student.

Try as you might, you doubted you'd be able to feign innocence in the face of that damning clue left behind.

You smirked wickedly to yourself as you finished resetting the locker's intricate lock and spun the dial. Now all that remained was to await Gojo's discovery - and his retaliation against your sultry provocation.

This game of restraint and release was rapidly spiraling out of control. And you had every intention of remaining its relentless instigator until one of you eventually, inevitably shattered completely under the weight of temptation.

Let the delicious torment continue...

The next afternoon found you purposefully focusing your mind during training, trying not to let anticipation over Gojo's inevitable discovery distract you overmuch. You could feel the weight of his contemplative stare boring into you as he paced in slow, measured circles nearby.

"You seem...unfocused today," Gojo remarked at last, that low rumble of voice snagging your attention despite yourself. "Something on your mind?"

Feigning nonchalance, you paused mid-form to regard him evenly. "Nothing out of the ordinary, sensei. Why do you ask?"

His lips curved in the barest hint of a smirk as he continued circling you with cat-like grace. "No reason. Simply an...observation."

Something in his tone, in the weighted innuendo underlying the word "observation" made the fine hairs prickle on the back of your neck. Did he know? Had Gojo already discovered the lipstick imprint you'd brazenly left amidst his private sweets?

You refused to be the one to break the heated silence first. To give him the satisfaction of flustered confession. Instead, you arched one cool eyebrow in silent challenge, silently daring him to make an overt accusation if he thought he had grounds.

Gojo's smile widened by a fraction, dark eyes glinting with what looked like deep approval at your unwavering nonchalance. He idly ran his thumb over his bottom lip as if deep in thought.

"You know..." he murmured conversationally. "The most fascinating thing happened earlier when I went to indulge myself in my private locker's...reserves."

Your pulse kicked up by several excited notches, but you maintained an aloof facade as you waited for the other shoe to drop. For Gojo to reveal he'd found your deliberately seductive hint.

Instead, he merely hummed faintly and inspected his thumb as if searching for some lingering stain or smear. Meeting your steady gaze once more, Gojo allowed his lips to curve in a wicked smile dripping with sinful delight.

"I detected the most intriguing...fruity bouquet when I opened the safe. Like someone had left behind a rather intimate little kiss amongst my treats."

The blatant innuendo made heat bloom bright in your cheeks despite your best efforts. You opened your mouth, a retort already forming, but Gojo pressed forward in a languid slink that left you momentarily poleaxed.

"So tell me..." he practically purred, deep voice like velvet sin caressing your heated skin as he leaned in close enough for you to feel his body heat. "Should I be concerned one of my private indulgences is being...thoroughly and repeatedly savored without my knowledge?"

His gaze was nothing short of smoldering brimstone as it slowly raked down to your lips, then back up in a molten trail of promise and unspoken challenge. You swallowed hard against the want suddenly rasping in your throat.

There it was - the direct confrontation, laying his cards out on the table as he waited to see if you would finally buckle under the simmering tension. Admit to your crimes boldly escalating this dangerous game between you.

Your heart thundered riotously in your chest as you maintained Gojo's heated stare. You could still attempt to refute the evidence, to feign innocence and continue taunting him down this path of exquisite temptation a while longer.

Or...you could take the plunge and see exactly where the shattered edge of restraint between you ultimately led to shameless indulgence.

Slowly, you allowed your tongue to sweep over your lips in a deliberate glide - tasting phantom sweetness lingering there and watching Gojo's pupils blow wider. Unwavering challenge sparked bright in your gaze as you leaned in until your mouths were a succulent hairsbreadth apart and you could feel his ragged exhale ghost over your lips.

"Why don't you come a little closer," you murmured in a voice gone husky and dripping sin. "And find out for yourself?"

A muscle ticked high in Gojo's clenched jaw as he visibly fought to maintain the last tattered shreds of control. You watched his throat work convulsively as you traced the tempting curve of his bottom lip with your gaze.

Whatever simmered behind that fiery stare held the promise of unleashed, primal intent. You could feel the sheer undercurrent of want and restrained desire rolling off him in suffocating waves.

This was it - the precipice the two of you had been hurtling towards through heated denials and greedy back-and-forth indulgences. One of you was about to finally go crashing over the edge into unbridled, unrestrained temptation.

And this time, you couldn't even begin to predict which of you would shatter first.

Gojo's eyes smoldered like molten brimstone in the weighted silence after your brazen invitation for him to "find out for himself" about the sugared sins you'd been committing. You could practically see the internal war raging within him - the fight to maintain his rapidly shredding restraint against the primal urge to finally shatter all barriers between you.

His chest rose and fell in harsh breaths, giving away the tumultuous storm of arousal you'd stoked with your defiant words and unrepentant gaze. For one dizzyingly suspended moment, you thought he might actually concede defeat and surge forward to claim the indecent liberties he'd been taunting you both towards.

But then, with what seemed like a herculean force of will and gritted teeth, Gojo managed to wrestle back some semblance of hard-won control. You watched the tendons flex in his straining jaw and neck as he swallowed thickly, forcibly reining himself back from that irresistible edge.

"You..." he began, then stopped to clear the roughened rasp from his voice. "You have no idea what flames you're stoking, little one."

His tone retained that dark graveled promise of sin waiting to be unleashed. Gojo leaned impossibly closer, near enough that you could smell the heady, masculine scent of him - like sandalwood and the barest hint of citrus. He trapped you in the banked inferno of his stare.

"If you knew what was truly good for you," Gojo murmured in a dangerously heated undertone, "You'd stop pushing me to finally make good on those brazen taunts of yours."

His gaze pointedly raked over your lips before returning to your wide eyes - a clear indication that he knew precisely which provocative gestures and indulgences had been the last straw in eroding his restraint. You felt a fresh blaze of molten heat scorch through you at the blatant reminder.

A beat of loaded quiet pulsed hotly between you as Gojo searched your features with ravenous intensity, silently demanding you heed his veiled warnings. Daring you to continue down this path of escalating temptation towards its inevitable conclusion.

But almost as soon as the challenge kindled behind his eyes, Gojo reined it in with another harsh inhalation through his flared nostrils. You watched his throat convulse once more as he visibly wrestled his rapidly unwinding control back into place.

When next he spoke, his tone was low and ominously measured - a clear front to conceal the maelstrom of restrained want still simmering beneath the veneer.

"Whether you choose to curb those self-destructive impulses is ultimately up to you," Gojo stated evenly. "But make no mistake - I won't be responsible for the consequences if you persist in needlessly provoking me much further."

The words landed like a physical blow, sudden and disorienting after all the heated innuendos and provocations that came before. He was putting up a wall now, you realized. Throwing up those implacable barriers between you in an attempt to claw back his fleeting control of the situation.

And damn if his efforts to create that distance, to retreat from the precipice you'd both been teetering over, didn't somehow only stoke the flames of challenge burning brighter in your veins. If anything, you felt even more recklessly determined to keep this dangerous game escalating between you - if only to see just how far Gojo's self-restraint could truly be pushed.

So you simply arched a single taunting eyebrow and regarded him steadily, refusing to be cowed. "Is that a threat...or simply more incentive for me, Sensei?"

A muscle ticked high in Gojo's clenched jaw at your insolent rejoinder. His lips peeled back from gritted teeth as he visibly struggled to contain the growl rumbling up from his chest. That carefully curated mask of composure very nearly slipped once more.

"Don't test me, pet," he all but snarled. "I can promise you won't enjoy having to discover where the limits of even my restraint ultimately lie."

With that final dark-edged warning, Gojo abruptly spun on his heel and stalked out of the training room - shoulders tense and fists clenched in a clear display of how very near to shattering he'd brought himself.

You watched him go, heart thundering wildly as tremors of excitement and want continued lancing through you in searing waves. There was no mistaking or denying it now - Gojo was nearing his limits. And unless one of you found a way to relieve this cataclysmic tension, you both might very well end up swept away by the sheer, unrestrained force of it when he finally reached his breaking point.

The delicious possibilities of what that unbridled release could bring had your mouth watering in heady anticipation.

The thrill of forbidden temptation sang bright in your veins as you crept through the deserted training halls that night. You traced the familiar path to Gojo's private sweets locker almost subconsciously, anticipation building with every whisper of movement.

Despite his ominous warnings after your last provocative encounter, you found yourself utterly unable to resist seeking out another clandestine indulgence. If anything, the prospect of pushing your teacher’s restraint that much further, of seeing what deliciously dark consequences awaited if you persisted, only stoked your reckless daring.

You licked your lips unconsciously as you deftly spun the dial on the safe's lock, the metallic clicks seeming to echo obscenely in the stillness around you. Each turn felt charged with illicit promise as the tumblers gradually released.

Finally, the heavy door fell open with a low groan of steel. You felt your pulse kick up in excitement as the dimly lit locker's contents were revealed.

There, amidst the usual assortment of gourmet chocolates and delicate pastries, rested a small satin box you didn't recall seeing before. Something about its conspicuous placement, about the air of clear enticement surrounding the mysterious confection made your mouth go dry with want.

You knew you should simply take your usual treats and depart before potentially being caught out. But the siren call of discovering just what sinful indulgences might be hidden inside that intriguing little package proved too difficult to resist.

With a furtive glance over your shoulder, you gingerly plucked up the box and slowly cracked open the hinged lid. A burst of rich, heady fragrance immediately washed over you - velvety dark chocolate mingled with exotic spices and intoxicating floral notes.

Inside nestled a assortment of glossy, liqueur-filled truffles glistening with glazed cocoa butter. Each one looked utterly sumptuous and impossibly decadent. Without even thinking, you found yourself reaching out to pluck up one of the confections, mesmerized by the depth of flavor promised in its simplistic form.

The first molten bite practically melted on your tongue in a rapturous burst of creamy ganache and tart-sweet berry compote. You closed your eyes with a faint moan of bliss as the lavish flavor notes danced over your palate. These were easily the most exquisite chocolates you'd ever tasted.

But no sooner had you swallowed down that indulgent first bite, than a strange heated flush began blooming beneath your skin. You furrowed your brow, puzzling at the disconcerting yet somehow delicious prickling sensation now racing along your limbs in tingling waves.

Before you could analyze it further, a low dark chuckle suddenly sounded from the shadowed corner of the small locker room - setting your pulse to jackrabbiting as you whirled around.

"I wondered just how long it might take you to stumble into that particular snare," the familiar velvet rumble intoned.

Gojo emerged slowly from the inky corner, looking like some sort of large jungle cat lazily rising from where he'd clearly been lying in wait. The dim lighting turned his obscuring shades into twin dark mirrors that reflected your rapidly paling features back at you.

Your tongue felt thick and heavy in your mouth as Gojo prowled in a slow, predatory circle - effectively caging you back against the cool metal of the safe. His lips curved in a sharp, haunting smile that sent a fresh frisson of molten unease trickling down your spine.

"Did you truly think I wouldn't notice the, ah...inconsistencies in my supply?" Gojo tsked softly, shaking his head in mock remorse as he continued closing the distance between you. "That your little criminal endeavors would go undetected indefinitely?"

You opened your mouth, some faint denial already forming on your lips. But another searing lash of that disconcerting liquid heat suddenly flared low in your abdomen - robbing you of breath and composure.

Gojo's smile turned distinctly more feral at whatever must have shown on your face in that moment. "Ah, so you're just now starting to feel the first delicious effects of the aphrodisiacs, are you?"

His words struck you like a physical blow as comprehension dawned in a sickening rush. The strange, overwhelming arousal now rapidly suffusing your limbs and core...of course it had to be the result of an aphrodisiac imbued within that seemingly innocuous selection of chocolates.

Gojo had planned this entire seduction from the start - lacing his private stash with sinfully intoxicating confections, then waiting for you to take the bait like the impulsive, reckless pupil he knew you to be.

You tried to stumble backwards, to seek some meager distance and control over whatever molten Gojo had set into torrid motion inside you.

But your teacher merely tsked again and continued his unhurried advance until his body heat practically radiated over your feverish skin. Until you could feel his breath fanning tauntingly over your lips as he leaned in close with dark, wicked promise.

"No more running now, pet," Gojo purred in that low, sin-stained rasp. "I do hope you're finally prepared to face the...consequences of repeatedly testing my restraint."

The last threads of your control swiftly began to fray under the relentless onslaught of the aphrodisiac and Gojo's searing proximity. You trembled helplessly, mouth gone bone dry as overwhelming need began whiting out the edges of your vision.

Gojo seemed to revel in your tormented struggle, in how utterly undone you were swiftly becoming as his intoxicating machinations took root. His smirk was all razor-edges and merciless intent as he reached out to toy with a lock of your hair, the ghost of a caress somehow even more inflaming than a firmer touch.

"We've been baiting this exquisite tension between us for far too long now," he rumbled in a voice gone dreamily viscous with dark promise. "It's long past time to finally stop fighting and give into those simmering cravings entirely..."

You whimpered softly as another scorching shudder lanced through you, desire now rapidly eclipsing any lingering caution or defenses. Gojo's shades had slipped enough for you to glimpse the banked inferno of naked lust now smoldering in his eyes.

There would be no more games, no more playful denials or flights of willpower after this night. Gojo had expertly maneuvered you both to the very edge of that shuddering precipice. Now there was nothing left to do but finally embrace the inevitable freefall into wanton, unbridled indulgence together.

This delirious moment of reckoning had been simmering for far too long between you both. And now...now all that remained was to give yourselves over to it in a crashing wave of temptation as Gojo leaned inexorably, irresistibly closer—

Gojo's dark chuckle resonated through you like sin made audible as he drank in your trembling struggle against the relentless onslaught of desire he'd orchestrated.

"Such delicious fortitude," he rumbled in voice gone gravelly and rough with banked restraint. "But we both know that craving, that exquisite ache, is only going to grow more...insistent with each moment you persist in denying it."

You whimpered faintly as a fresh wave of blazing need crashed over you in searing affirmation of his words. Your core felt like molten friction, like being slowly consumed from the inside out by wanton hunger.

Gojo watched the storm of anguished arousal play out over your features with ravenous delight. He reached out with agonizing leisure, calloused fingertips trailing over the heated flush staining your cheekbones in a scarcely-there caress that somehow only stoked the flames raging within you higher.

"Now then," he practically purred, voice dropping into an obscene register that had you quaking. "Why don't you be a good girl and show your sensei just how thoroughly you've learned the principle of giving in to temptation?"

His fingertips trailed lower, drifting in a searing line down the slender column of your throat. You gasped at the deliberate intimacy of the touch, entire body arching shamelessly into the contact despite yourself.

Gojo's lips curved in a sharp smile of vicious victory as his thumb grazed torturously over your wildly fluttering pulse point. "That's it, pet...fight it all you want. We both know how this is going to end."

You barely registered his murmured taunts as Gojo continued mapping out every fevered inch of your overstimulated skin. Each brush of his callused fingertips against your overheated flesh felt like being licked by open flame, reducing what little restraint you'd been grasping at to smoldering ash.

It was too much - the reckless thrill, the exhilarating lack of control, the sheer rapturous potential of finally letting yourself tumble over into oblivion with the one person you'd been denying this cataclysmic attraction to for far too long.

A strangled sound resonated up from your chest - part moan, part growl of pure unleashed yearning. Then you were surging up and crashing your lips against Gojo's in a searing, needful kiss.

He froze for only a split second at your sudden boldness. But then Gojo's hands were combing ravenously into your hair, lips parting in a slick glide to deepen the contact as a guttural groan vibrated from low in his chest.

Your mouth moved in frantic synchronicity as you finally, blissfully surrendered your restraint to his capable hands. The taste of him - exotic spices and dark, smoky sin - flooded your senses until you felt utterly dizzy with delirious gratification.

Gojo took ruthless advantage of your momentary weakness, his wicked tongue spearing past your lips to tangle with yours in a molten duel of need and possession. He slanted your mouth this way and that, a wild clash of slick heat and carnal desperation igniting between you.

You clutched dizzily at his shoulders, his hips, anything to anchor you as Gojo plundered the exquisite velvet of your mouth with clear expertise and primal intent. Each lap of his sinful tongue only stoked the raging wildfire of your desire higher, hotter, brighter--

Until there was nothing left but searing sensation. Nothing but molten slick heat and the delirious surrender to finally releasing that long-denied, rapturous gratification at last.

When the two of you eventually broke apart, panting and utterly debauched, the air between you had gone molten and sultry. Your lips felt bruised and swollen, still tingling from the delicious onslaught of his mouth.

Gojo's smile was wickedly satisfied as his darkened gaze flicked back and forth between your eyes. "Well now...I suppose I should've anticipated my favorite student would be a biter."

You flushed at the teasing, at the memory of your teeth sinking into the full, succulent swell of his bottom lip as he'd taken command of the kiss. But your embarrassment quickly morphed into something more heated as Gojo's fingers idly traced the seam of your kiss-swollen bottom lip.

"But since I can't seem to stop indulging you..." he mused. Then, lightning-quick, Gojo snatched a fistful of your hair and tugged hard.

A shocked gasp tore from your throat at the sudden jolt of pain-edged pleasure. But before you could properly respond, his mouth was back on yours - devouring you with a ravenousness that threatened to steal the very breath from your lungs.

You groaned, arching into his demanding grip as Gojo continued to ravage your lips in a heady rush of want. The feeling of his body pressed so intimately against yours, of those calloused fingers still gripping tight enough to sting, of his tongue lapping greedily into your mouth - all of it combined to send fresh bolts of heat spiraling through your core.

You felt as though you were being slowly immolated by the flames of your own desire. Like some dark, sensual creature had taken possession of your body and mind, leaving nothing behind but pure, wanton need.

And if the way Gojo's free hand was currently mapping a greedy path over the feverish swell of your hip was any indication, he was just as far gone as you. His palm slid possessively over the curve of your ass, squeezing the supple flesh as his lips continued their ravenous onslaught.

When at last he pulled back, Gojo's grin was all predatory hunger and sharp, lethal satisfaction. "Let's see what else my favorite little thief can offer, hmm?"

Then his hand was delving between your thighs, sliding into the soaked satin of your panties to find the molten slick of your core. The first brush of his fingers against your throbbing flesh sent a full-body shudder wracking through you, a low whine of need echoing up from the very depths of your chest.

"S-Sensei--"

Your broken plea earned you a low, dangerous growl as Gojo's lips found the curve of your jaw. "You keep calling me that," he murmured, the words a sultry rasp against the shell of your ear. "And I'm liable to get ideas, pet."

You moaned helplessly, already feeling yourself spiraling closer to the brink. His fingers continued stroking you, exploring the molten, needy heat between your legs as he pressed open-mouthed kisses along the side of your neck.

The combined sensations were enough to shatter what little was left of your restraint. You clung to Gojo's shoulders, rocking mindlessly against the deft ministrations of his hand. Each pass of his calloused fingertips against your heated flesh, each sinful lick and suckle against the sensitive skin of your throat, only served to drive you further towards the precipice.

When Gojo's teeth suddenly scraped against the tender flesh below your ear, a strangled cry of pleasure tore from your lips. You could feel yourself careening toward release, the pressure and tension winding tighter and tighter with every delicious stroke.

Gojo must have sensed it too. Because his pace only increased, his touch growing rougher, more insistent. His free hand continued fisting into the silken strands of your hair, the dual points of stimulation only adding to the searing intensity of the moment.

"Go on," he urged, voice a rough, heady rasp. "Be a good girl and come for me."

Then his thumb was grazing over your clit, stroking you in a devastatingly perfect rhythm. A strangled cry escaped your lips as the molten pressure building within you finally shattered. Your whole body shuddered and spasmed, hot, clear fluid gushing out to stain the floor.

Gojo continued working you through the delirious aftershocks, coaxing out every last drop of release. You gasped and whimpered, clinging to his shoulders as the final tremors finally subsided.

Your vision was still hazy, the room spinning slightly as Gojo withdrew his fingers. You watched dazedly as he lifted his hand, the slick shine of your arousal coating his fingers in a viscous, unmistakable sheen.

His lips curved in a sharp smile as he regarded you through half-lidded eyes. "So, so sweet," he practically purred, voice thick and syrupy with decadent intent. "But I'm afraid my favorite little thief has yet to fulfill the principle of 'giving in to temptation' fully."

Gojo brought his hand to his lips, tongue snaking out to taste the evidence of your arousal. A low, heady groan resonated up from his chest, like a man savoring a forbidden treat. You felt a fresh wave of molten need course through you at the decadent sight.

"I have a feeling," Gojo mused, voice dripping dark and honeyed sin. "That this will take several lessons in self-restraint. Several thorough demonstrations of exactly how much I've been...holding back until now."

You felt another pulse of desire flood through you at his words. You knew the two of you should stop before things escalated any further. That you'd already pushed the limits of this dangerous game between you beyond the point of no return.

But the look in Gojo's eyes as his gaze raked over you - predatory and unbridled and full of ravenous want - made it clear the night's indulgences had only just begun.

There would be time for regret and shame later, for reckoning with the consequences of what was surely a doomed affair. But for now, with that delirious edge of want and depraved anticipation still singing through your veins, you could think of nothing you desired more than to finally give in to this reckless, irresistible temptation--

You opened your mouth, a retort already forming. But Gojo merely smiled that sharp, sinful smile and surged forward. His mouth slanted over yours, swallowing the last remnants of your protests and rational thought as he pressed you back against the cool metal of the sweets locker.

Your arms went around his neck, hands delving into the silken fall of his hair as his lips moved hungrily against yours. Gojo's tongue swept into your mouth, stealing your breath and the last shreds of your willpower in a single, sinfully delicious rush.

The taste of you - tart-sweet and addictive, like forbidden fruit - made a heady groan rumble up from deep within his chest. You could feel the proof of his desire straining against the confines of his pants, pressed hotly against the feverish flesh of your belly.

Gojo's mouth left a trail of burning fire wherever it touched, his hands mapping out the curves and planes of your body with an expert's deft touch. Every flick of his wicked tongue, every caress and slide of his palm, only served to stoke the inferno of lust blazing within you.

It was impossible to tell where one of you ended and the other began. All you knew was the delicious heat, the intoxicating friction of his mouth on yours. The feeling of Gojo's body pinning you against the locker, the hard lines and planes of his chest and abs pressing tantalizingly against your softness.

And when he finally released you, panting and breathless and thoroughly debauched, the sight of his eyes - dark and wild and full of primal intent - made your heart race faster than it ever had before.

Gojo's gaze roved over you, drinking in the evidence of his ravishment with a smug, possessive satisfaction. His thumb trailed lightly over your kiss-swollen lips, and you couldn't resist darting out to taste the salt and musk lingering on the pad.

A low growl rumbled up from deep in his chest, the sound sending a fresh thrill of anticipation racing down your spine. Gojo leaned in, his voice a sultry, seductive purr against the shell of your ear.

"I can't wait to see what other sinful indulgences my favorite student might have hidden away."

And then, in a blur of motion, Gojo spun you around and pressed you face-first into the cold metal of the locker door. Your breath caught in your throat at the unexpected move.

His palm ghosted slowly down the curve of your spine, the deliberate contact sending a shiver through you. His voice was a low, wicked promise against the back of your neck. "Let's find out just how deep your cravings for this exquisite tension run, shall we?"

And then his fingers were delving back into the soaked satin between your legs, teasing and stroking you to the brink of madness. His lips left a searing trail of kisses and bites down the side of your neck, marking the tender flesh for anyone to see.

Each press of his calloused fingers against your molten core made you tremble and moan, helpless against the overwhelming onslaught of sensations. Your body moved of its own accord, hips rocking shamelessly against his hand as the pressure built higher and higher.

Gojo's breathing was ragged, his free hand fisting in your hair as he continued his relentless pursuit. You could feel the evidence of his arousal pressing hot and insistent against the small of your back, the sheer evidence of his desire only adding fuel to the blaze within you.

It was too much, too intense, too overwhelming. The feel of his fingers inside you, the heat of his breath against your fevered skin, the scent of his cologne mingling with your sweat and sex. It was all too much.

You threw your head back, gasping and shuddering as the pressure finally crested, the world seeming to shatter apart beneath the force of your release. Gojo continued stroking you, coaxing every last bit of pleasure from you as the waves of pleasure washed over you.

You slumped against the locker door, utterly spent and sated, as the final tremors of release subsided. Gojo's lips brushed lightly against the nape of your neck, the gesture surprisingly tender after the ferocity of his earlier attentions.

He stepped back, allowing you to catch your breath and regain your bearings. The sight of his smirk, equal parts smug and satisfied, made a blush creep into your cheeks.

"So," he drawled, voice low and husky with lingering desire. "Have you learned the proper lesson, my little thief?"

You licked your lips, tasting the salty-sweet tang of sweat and desire. Your heart was still racing, body tingling from the aftereffects of release.

And despite the heady satisfaction still coursing through your veins, the craving for more lingered.

"I'm not sure," you said, voice trembling slightly. "Maybe we should continue the lesson...just to make sure I understand."

Gojo's smirk grew wider, sharper, hungrier. He stepped forward, pressing himself against your back. You could feel the evidence of his own desire straining against the confines of his pants.

"Oh, I think we'll have to continue this lesson until I'm certain you've learned it," he murmured, the words a low, seductive purr against the shell of your ear.

His hands slipped beneath the hem of your shirt, calloused fingers brushing teasingly against the feverish skin of your abdomen.

"After all," he continued, tone dipping into a dark, suggestive register. "It's never a bad idea to be thorough when instructing my favorite student."

#jjk smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader smut #gojo satoru x reader smut #gojo x reader smut #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x reader #gojo smut #gojo x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo satoru #jjk gojo #jujutsu kaisen smut

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lunatiics · 3 days

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pretty girls (pt. 2) | planymphia

Word Count: 1.7k

Summary: Nymphia was never supposed to know how Jane really felt about her. Fuck those House of Love cocktails.

A/N: Truly weaponizing my BA in Creative Writing for this.

Part 1

—

“She’s just so pretty to me. You’re so pretty to me, sister.”

“Why? Is it because I’m wearing black?”

“No, I’m just obsessed with you.”

Jane had said it because she was drunk. Seriously. Just because she was drunk. At this point, weeks into the competition, she had given up on denying her feelings for Nymphia to herself. But that didn’t mean the other girls had to know. Or that Nymphia had to know.

The morning after the goth runway, Jane woke up anxious and hungover. She had overdone it with the cocktails in the lounge and was now paying the price. She groaned and rubbed her eyes, dreading going onto the set, especially when her confession to Nymphia came floating back to her.

She’d get over the hangover soon enough. She was more nervous about facing the other girls. One girl in particular.

Over the last few weeks, despite Jane’s best efforts, she and Nymphia had gotten close. Very close.

After the talent show, Jane had promised herself to keep Nymphia at arm's length, knowing she was her biggest competitor, and because, for some unknown and totally unimportant reason, Nymphia made Jane’s heart leap every time she smiled at her. Gross.

But ignoring Nymphia turned out to be easier said than done. Because even though Jane tried her best to avoid her, it seemed as though Nymphia wasn’t on the same page.

During the first week that all the girls were together and making their outfits for the ball, Nymphia parked herself right next to Jane’s table. Throughout the day, she constantly peeked over to see what Jane was doing. She shot teasing comments Jane’s way about her garment and oh-so-innocently asked where Jane had ranked her in Rate-a-Queen.

From the moment Nymphia picked the table next to hers, Jane felt like a deer in headlights. She did her best to volley back with Nymphia, clinging to her front of a cool and unshakable demeanor that she so easily wore in front of everyone else. She managed to make some joke about her immunity potion, but as her eyes flickered to the cameras, she wondered if everyone could tell how shaken she was. It chilled her how Nymphia immediately seemed to see right through her mask.

Eventually, Nymphia locked into her own garment and left Jane to her work. But Jane could feel Nymphia’s presence next to her, even when they weren’t speaking.

As they got ready for the runway, Jane tried to place herself as far away from Nymphia as possible, her mind still spinning from their earlier interactions. Nymphia’s garment was impeccable, and a strange mixture of awe, jealousy, and insecurity was running through Jane. Maybe if she could have a second to herself, she could control the wave of feelings coursing through her.

But she didn’t get a chance. Once again, Nymphia sat down right next to Jane and began bombarding her with questions. How did she feel about the runway? Was she nervous? Where was she from? Nymphia had never been to Boston. What was it like?

In the mirror, Jane saw the cameras focused on them. Her heart was racing. Her instinct was to throw up her walls and make an incendiary comment to avoid actually being real and talking about herself on camera. She wasn’t ready to be vulnerable in front of everyone; maybe she would never be ready, but especially not so soon.

But Nymphia seemed so honestly curious, and her smile was so sweet and endearing that Jane couldn’t not answer her. As they got to know each other while they got ready, Jane’s awareness of the cameras faded away. She stopped focusing on the role she was supposed to be playing and started actually being herself. She caught herself gazing into Nymphia’s eyes once, maybe twice, four times as Nymphia told her about Taiwan, moving to Brooklyn, and her relationship with drag. Jane almost forgot where they were and that there was a competition going on—she wanted to sit, listen to Nymphia talk all night, and admire the sparkle in Nymphia’s eyes as she talked about her art and her family.

When Nymphia won that night and threw herself into Jane’s arms after they went to the back of the stage, Jane was happier than she had been for her own win.

This was not supposed to happen. Nymphia was not supposed to be giving Jane this much attention. That was not part of the plan.

And Jane really was not supposed to like it this much.

—

Slowly but surely, Jane stopped fighting the pull she felt toward Nymphia.

It wasn’t just that Nymphia was beautiful—and she was. It was that she was someone Jane admired, wanted to learn from, and wanted to learn about. When she wasn’t by Nymphia’s side, Jane missed her. Nymphia wasn’t a meaningless flirtatious ego boost. She was so much more.

As the weeks passed, their teasing comments and mirror-side conversations turned into long hugs after a day of filming, saved seats next to each other on the bus to and from set, and light touches of comfort on a shoulder or thigh when they each needed it. One day before walking into the werkroom, Nymphia was visibly exhausted, and Jane, without a second thought, scooped her up and carried her in. It seemed like the most natural thing in the world. It was only when she put Nymphia down and saw the rest of the girls’ wide eyes staring at her that it seemed like maybe a strange thing to do.

Jane wasn’t usually a touchy person. Nymphia was with everyone, but especially with Jane. Whenever she could, Nymphia always found a way to have a hand on Jane’s, rest her head on Jane’s shoulder, or wrap her arms around Jane from behind, pressing their bodies together. Even when they weren’t speaking, when she was touching Nymphia, Jane seemed to understand her completely. Nymphia seemed to like being close to Jane, too—though, sometimes, Jane couldn’t understand why. They were so different, but when they were together, it felt so right.

With anyone else, Jane would have frozen up at their closeness, probably made some biting remark about personal space, and shut it down. But with Nymphia, she was entirely comfortable. She even found herself reaching for Nymphia, initiating their contact, especially when Nymphia was stressing out about a challenge or crying at an emotional video one of the girls received from home.

Jane loved how comfortable Nymphia was expressing herself. She felt everything Jane felt inside but wasn’t afraid to let it out. Jane couldn’t help smiling when Nymphia would flail around the werkroom, letting out all her worries and frustrations. The other girls saw it as strategy, but Jane knew better. Nymphia couldn’t help but be herself. It was one of Jane’s favorite things about her.

It was so embarrassing, and she’d never ever admit it, but spending time with Nymphia gave Jane the courage to be herself. As time went on, she (slightly) let down the walls she had spent so much of her life building. She wasn’t as outwardly expressive as Nymphia, but she had more to share than she initially had let on, and she ended up sharing more than she thought she would before going into the show.

Jane could tell the other girls had noticed how Nymphia had affected her. She treated Nymphia so much more delicately than everyone else. Jane had even felt the shift in herself; she was more at ease, more comfortable opening up. She had pulled back on her for-the-plot flirtation and out-of-pocket reads. She didn’t need them as defense mechanisms anymore. She even made a (failed) attempt to be congenial, which shocked them all, Jane included. But spending time with Nymphia had given her faith in being herself, all sides of herself.

And Jane had noticed a shift in Nymphia, too. She was feistier, more ready to read the girls. Jane thought Nymphia seemed a bit more confident, maybe embodying some of Jane’s delusion. It made Jane’s heart warm to think that with all Nymphia had given to her, she may have given something back in return.

That didn’t mean Jane was completely off her guard. Her coldness and fear of vulnerability came in waves. Sometimes, she let herself fully bask in Nymphia, thankful to even have met someone like her. And sometimes, she would get in her head and worry that it was all pretend.

Jane was well aware they were filming a show, and this could all be for the cameras. It didn’t seem like Nymphia would play mind games like that—even though the other girls would disagree—but Jane couldn’t be 100% certain. To protect herself from being humiliated, she let herself lean into what she felt for Nymphia but never outwardly questioned what was going on between them. They were two people who enjoyed each other and were having fun. It was causal. Literally not a big deal at all.

But then came Jane’s drunken speech about how pretty she thought Nymphia was. How obsessed she was with Nymphia. That blew the whole “causal” thing out the window. Sure, it was true, but why did Jane have to say it? It was going to be harder to brush off as acting. And what did Nymphia think? At first, she seemed taken aback. But then she smiled at Jane’s compliments, saying, “I liiiiiive.” Jane couldn’t gauge what exactly that meant. They hadn’t talked about it after.

As she climbed out of bed, Jane winced at the thought of seeing Nymphia today. The more she thought about it, the more she was certain there was no way Nymphia could feel what Jane felt for her. She had fucked everything up, actually putting their whatever-it-was into words. Nymphia was smart; she was probably playing her liking for Jane up for the cameras. And Jane couldn’t blame her—if she weren’t so enamored by Nymphia and could treat their connection as a fun little side plot, she would do the same.

If she could pretend this wasn’t real, she would. But the line wasn’t blurry. It was crystal clear, and, against all odds, Jane had crossed it.

#planymphia #rpdr

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joojeans · 8 hours

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˚◞♡ ⃗ I Dare You Pt. 3

♡ Bestfriend!Nicholas x Afab!Reader

♡ Summary: You’re sitting on the floor with your friends playing a juvenile game–truth or dare. Things have been spiraling out of control for some time now, but what happens when you’re dared to turn on one of your best friends without touching them? Can they handle it? Can you handle it? Spoiler alert: neither of you can. Find out how things go from seriously fucked up to seriously fucked, one member at a time.

♡ WC: 3.9k

♡ Content: lbr nicholas needs a warning all on his own, nicholas is falsely confident at the beginning, the boys are on each other's asses, reader is head empty only nicholas (real), oral (f. receiving), fingering, unprotected sex (be smart), 'baby' used a couple of times, creampie

♡ PREVIOUS | SERIES MASTERLIST | NEXT

“You’re so cute. You can barely handle telling us a little dirty secret without your ears getting all red.”

You can barely hear Nicholas–your attention on K’s phone as he shows you a funny video–but you know he’s talking to Euijoo. It was just his turn during this round of truth or dare. You think you remember the question being about a fantasy of his, but you weren’t really paying attention, to be perfectly honest. You thought K wasn’t either until you hear him scoff at Nicholas’s teasing, looking up from his phone with a taunting smirk.

“I wouldn’t talk if I were you. You get a tent in your pants if the wind blows the wrong way.”

You look up now, choking back a laugh at a smug Euijoo and an annoyed Nicholas, tongue pushing into his cheek.

“Hey, fuck you.” Nicholas retorts, half playful, half deadly serious.

“Prove it then.” Euijoo. Silence follows for a second as everyone looks at him curiously. His ears are burning slightly from all the attention, but he’s determined not to back down right now. “It’s your turn. Let’s see how easily you crumble with a little attention.”

“Bro, unless you’re planning on making a move on me, I’m not following.”

Euijoo hesitates for a moment, realizing he hasn’t thought his plan and its implications through. He reluctantly looks in your direction but he can’t bring himself to say what he was thinking. Luckily for him, Fuma seems to understand. He chuckles.

“Y/n, I think he’s suggesting that you should be the one to give this a go.”

You watch as Nicholas’s eyes grow wide, shocked. Somehow even more shocked, Euijoo sits up straight from his spot on the couch, shaking his head insistently. “N-no. I didn’t mean that. You don’t have to do that. I don’t know what I was thinking. I don’t think I was–”

“Euijoo, relax. It’s fine.” You laugh, a fondness in your heart. “Obviously I should be the one to give this a go. Look at me. He wouldn’t be able to resist.” You wink, hoping to soothe his nerves. It seems to work, his shoulders relaxing and his bright smile creeping back onto his face.

You dart your eyes next to him: Nicholas. He looks antsy–nervous?–thinly veiled with surety. As expected.

“So? Are you going to let me try? I believe this is your dare, so it’ll look really embarrassing for you if you chicken out.” You’re poking the bear. You’re smug.

Nicholas exhales a laugh, his eyebrows indicating his surprise at the situation he’s found himself in. “I’m not going to stop you.”

You smirk. Perfect. “Okay, so what are the rules?” You ask, glancing at everyone else for guidelines. Nicholas probably doesn’t have much of a say here.

“I think…” K starts, humming as he ponders. “Everything is fair game as long as you don’t touch his dick. That would be too easy.” The other men mumble their agreement, heads nodding.

“Easy enough. You ready?”

Peacocking, Nicholas sits further back into the couch, spreading his arms out along the cushions on either side of his head. He lets his legs fall open, inviting you to his entire body. No verbal confirmation needed.

You don’t believe him. You know you can get him to fold. Without wasting much time, you stand up and make your way to the couch. Once you’re standing in front of Nicholas, his eyes firmly on yours, Euijoo quickly moves from his end of the couch, taking the seat on the floor next to K.

You’re just gazing at each other. He’s looking up at you like he’s expecting your best effort. You’re looking at him like you can’t wait to fuck with his head. Smiling much too sweetly, you slowly lower yourself to your knees in front of him. His eyes follow you, a glimmer of fear igniting in them. You know exactly what he’s afraid of. He knows he’s fucked already. He’s still trying to pretend that’s not the case.

“Hi, Nicholas.” You coo, both hands curling over his kneecaps.

“Hey,” he says simply. He doesn’t plan on giving you much to work with. That’s okay.

“I hope you’re having fun tonight.” Your hands glide slowly up the tops of his thighs, venturing to the outer sides as you move higher, careful to avoid his crotch. His eyes are trying to decide whether to look at you or watch your hands, ping ponging back and forth. “I know I am.” Your hands move up to his hips, finding the waistband of his jeans. Your fingers curl into the belt loops on the sides.

And then you pull.

Just enough to yank his body down the couch a bit more. Just enough to have his torso almost parallel to the ceiling. The soft, surprised gasp that pushes out of his lips is gorgeous.

Just this much is enough to extinguish the confidence in his eyes almost completely.

You fight the urge to smirk at him, keeping up the innocent appearance despite your actions being anything but. You untangle your fingers from his belt loops, your hands hovering by his sides as you look up at him. “That’s better, isn’t it? Much more comfortable this way.” You muse the words, not believing them, but selling them to him anyway. You keep your eyes on his as your thumbs hook under the hem of his t-shirt. You push your hands up slowly until his stomach is exposed to you and then you stop. His lips are parted in awe.

In an attempt to lighten the tension that’s building up in his body, Nicholas forces a laugh. “Y/n, what are you even doing? This is ridiculous…”

“Mm.” You hum, tilting your head like a confused puppy, your lashes batting sweetly. You don’t humor him, instead leaning down towards his stomach. You see his skin jump as you approach it, your lips far too close. “Pretty,” you mumble, bringing your hand up to stroke the small tuft of hair above his jeans. He tenses more. You smile.

“Y/n.”

You pause for just a moment to look back up at him. You want to give him the opportunity to stop you if he’s uncomfortable, but he doesn’t say anything more. You know it’s just stalling. So you continue, moving your hands to hold his waist securely as you close the space between the two of you, placing gentle, open-mouthed kisses on his stomach.

You can tell from the shaky exhales and the single fuck that you both know he’s lost already. You don’t need to do much more, but you’re having a good time. You move your lips over his skin, covering every inch of his stomach with a wet kiss.

To your surprise (and pleasure), you feel Nicholas’s hand slide into the back of your hair, his fingers curling to hold you there, to keep you doing what you’re doing. The unexpected move makes you freeze for just a moment, your attention momentarily drifting to a stirring in your stomach. You’ve got to finish up. You are not supposed to be the one turned on by this.

Eager to put an end to this before it gets out of control, you set up for your final move. Your lips kiss down the soft happy trail guiding you to his jeans. You don’t have to see Nicholas to know he’s watching with bated breath, secretly hoping you’re going to properly finish him off.

Alas, that would be against the rules.

Taking advantage of his hope, you move your lips just over the waistband of his jeans, collecting the button in your mouth. You pull just slightly with your teeth and then the worst thing imaginable happens: Nicholas moans.

Oh no. Now the sensation in your stomach is wafting lower, taking up residence between your plush thighs.

You let the button snap free of your teeth and pull back slightly. You internally recenter yourself as best as you can, taking notice of the fact that Nicholas’s jeans aren’t hiding his obvious arousal. Seeing your success lets you forget your own growing arousal momentarily, a proud smirk on your lips as you look back up to Nicholas. “Well, would you look at that?”

Groaning when he realizes you’re really going to stop here, Nicholas rolls his eyes and grabs a pillow, placing it over his lap. “Oh, fuck off. Any of the guys in here would have responded the same.”

The room erupts with snickers. Not sure where to sit now that Euijoo is in your spot, you move up to sit next to Nicholas on the couch. He’s mindlessly playing with the rings on his fingers, trying to distract himself from his own urges. You almost feel bad until you remember how smug he was.

Everyone tries to steer the night back into a less tense direction for the next few minutes, but it’s not working for Nicholas.

“I think I’m gonna head out.” He says suddenly. “Thanks to all of you, I now have a problem to take care of.” Assuring everyone that he’s not upset, he playfully throws the pillow he was holding at Euijoo and smiles the way he always does. He turns to look at you, equally playful. “Thanks, y/n. You’re truly evil.”

You watch as he stands up, tucking his phone into his pocket and grabbing his keys from the table. He says his goodbyes and then he’s gone. Just like that.

Or so you think.

Only moments after the front door closes behind him, your phone vibrates in your pocket. You pull it out only to find a message from Nicholas.

Meet me at my place in 20.

Oh. Oh.

You look up, relieved to see none of the guys are paying attention to you, too busy staring at K’s phone screen like you had been doing earlier. It’s a perfect out, you realize.

“Well…” You start, waiting for them to look at you so you know you have their attention for the small act you’re about to put on for them. “I think I should get going too. You guys are entertaining yourselves and I think I need to wash my mouth out with soap after what you made me do.”

K laughs. Fuma and Euijoo nod their understanding, wincing as if they were the ones that were touching Nicholas like that. No one protests.

As you step out of the uber outside Nicholas’s apartment, reality finally settles in.

What am I doing here? Why did I just do what Nicholas told me to do without thinking about it? Why did I make up an excuse to come here? Why am I not changing my mind? Why are my feet already making their way to his door? Why am I knocking?

Nicholas opens the door and only then do you realize how fast your heart is beating.

He looks exactly the same as he did before but you’re not seeing him the same right now. Without a word, he steps to the side, inviting you in. He seems to be pretty sure that you’ll do so, but can you blame him? You just came to his apartment without so much as a question. You step inside, feeling the light of his apartment dim as he closes the door behind you.

You’re just standing there now. You feel and must look awkward, but you’re not sure what to do. You have an idea of why he might’ve invited you, but you don’t want to assume and look like a fool in front of him. So you just stand. Waiting.

You glance down when you feel Nicholas’s hand capture yours in his, gently pulling you to him as he leans against the wall perpendicular to his front door. You’re pressed to his chest–hands resting there–and your eyes are locked on each other’s. He lets go of your hand, letting his hands take up residence around your waist instead. His hands feel secure on your lower back.

Everything is way too quiet for how bizarre this is.

“So did you have fun?” It’s like he could sense your objection to the silence.

“I…” You swallow, not quite sure how to answer. “Yeah.”

A small smirk on his lips, a peek of pretty teeth. “Yeah?” His tongue glides over his bottom lip, one of his hands playing with the hem of your shirt at the back. He never takes his eyes from you. “So then we should keep having fun, right?”

You narrow your eyes, partly to disguise your intrigue. “That’s what you called me here for? It was a dare, Nicholas. I didn’t come here to fuck you.”

“I didn’t call you here to fuck you. I just thought we could maybe…” His eyes fall to your lips, his smirk widening. He glances back up to your eyes, briefly searching for a hint of opposition and finds none. He drops his head slightly, pressing his lips to your jaw, kissing across it until he’s in perfect proximity to your ear. “I thought maybe we could make out a little. What do you think?”

You don’t think. You can’t. All you can do is feel the burn from his lips and imagine that feeling everywhere else. Your eyes close briefly as you try to find some semblance of self-control. Nicholas must notice because he allows himself a soft chuckle before taking hold of your chin. Your eyes open again and he’s looking down his nose at you. “If you don’t tell me you’re not interested, I’m going to kiss you.”

You can’t even pretend to yourself that you don’t want him to kiss you, but you’re too stubborn to admit you want it. So you keep quiet, swallowing the remnants of the resistance you never had to begin with. As promised, Nicholas leans in, hand still holding your chin in place for him, and presses his lips to yours.

It starts out light, lips barely moving against each other, afraid to do more than they’re supposed to. Nicholas’s free palm presses flat against your back, pressing you even closer to him, and your mouth opens in surprise. Nicholas takes this as an opportunity to test the waters, licking into your mouth, slowly, carefully, pleased when you moan in response. He drops your chin, his hand sliding into your hair instead as he pushes the gentle kiss into a heated meeting of lips and tongues, his other hand sliding down the back of your jeans, palming the flesh covered by flimsy panties.

Everything is escalating quickly all of a sudden, but it doesn’t feel like that. It feels good.

You let your body fall against Nicholas’s, trusting him to keep you on your feet. One arm moves around his neck, the other hand feeling the skin beneath his shirt. The skin your lips were on not so long ago. You feel the muscles there tense beneath your fingers, his mouth punctuating the effect of your touch by taking your lip between his teeth. He bites hard enough to warn you, but not enough to hurt. You’re not deterred.

Your heads are tilting this way and that, mouths opening and breaths taking on weight as you kiss each other like you’ve been dreaming about it. It’s messy and desperate. He’s trying to pull you impossibly closer and you’re trying to memorize the feeling of his skin. You don’t miss the way his hands tighten in your hair and squeeze your ass each time he pulls a moan from you. You don’t miss the way he’s straining against his jeans, grinding yourself against him, pleased yourself when he groans into your mouth.

He pulls back, shaking his head to clear it, his hands freezing where they are before dropping to his sides. “We should stop.”

Your head is still spinning. You’re still reeling. “I–why?”

Nicholas leans his head back against the wall and looks at you, panting. “Because we’re getting to a point of no return.” He pauses, exhales heavily. “And I want to respect your boundaries.”

No.

You’re panting too, looking at him, searching his eyes. “What if I changed my mind?”

He cocks his head, unsure if he believes you. “You better not be playing with me right now, y/n.”

“I’m not.”

Famous last words.

Nicholas scoops you into his arms, carrying you to his bedroom. His lips are on yours the entire way, not giving either of you a second to think yourselves out of this. He carefully lays you down, hovering over you as he follows. His hands are all over you now–ghosting, groping, gliding. You’re pulling at his shirt and he’s all too happy to pull it off for you, only needing one hand to do so. He tosses it away before his hands focus on yours, sliding it up your body so he can kiss your stomach, his fingers working the fasteners of your jeans.

You use the moment to try and catch your breath, your back arching into every kiss Nicholas places around your navel. So fucking pretty, you hear him mumble more to himself than to you. You sigh dreamily, pushing your hand back through your hair as Nicholas lifts your hips to pull your jeans off. He kisses up the insides of your legs starting from your feet until he’s reached his target–your wet, panty-clad cunt. He presses a kiss to the center before peeling them away, smirking as he listens to you whimper for more contact.

His mouth finds your now-exposed sex like a starved man, tongue swirling around your clit and dipping down through your folds to gather your arousal, to taste it. He hums his satisfaction, eyes closing as he lets himself enjoy feasting on you. You’d swear you’ve never felt anything like it. Your hand grabs at his hair, pulling for some sense of grounding, and he groans, the vibrations only adding to your pleasure.

Nicholas takes your clit into his mouth and sucks, allowing his eyes to open and look up, wanting to see the way your body shakes in response. You do just that, moaning louder than you anticipate, and Nicholas eats it up. He doesn’t want to make you cum too quickly so he releases your clit, letting only his fingers glide through your slick. “You’re so wet, y/n,” he notes with a smirk. Just an observation, he’d say if you were to challenge him.

“Just take your fucking pants off,” you quip with a smirk of your own.

“Yes ma’am.” He’s grinning now, one hand pumping two fingers into your cunt while the other undresses his lower half.

His fingers feel good. His rings are adding to the stretch and the cold metal makes you shiver. “Fuck,” you sigh, sure you’re in a wet dream. Nicholas chuckles lowly before removing his fingers, much to your dismay. He moves back up your body, letting you watch as he cleans your arousal from his fingers with his mouth. You watch in awe, feeling new waves of it pooling between your thighs. He winks when he finishes, his face hovering just above yours, his hand gripping the side of your neck.

“Last chance to tell me to fuck off.” You can sense his hand stroking his cock between your bodies, waiting only for your go ahead. The cocksure look on his face says he knows you won’t be doing that.

You roll your eyes, both annoyed and fond. “Don’t make me change my mind again.”

Nicholas grins, lowering his mouth back to yours. He’s more nibbling and tugging than kissing this time, his hand guiding his throbbing cock inside you. You both hiss at the initial stretch and resistance, both pairs of eyelids fluttering from the relief. He pushes inside you slowly, making sure not to cause you any discomfort while he bottoms out. “Fuck, you feel so good.” The rasp in his voice is enough to make you clench around him and he hisses again in response.

You tilt your head back as Nicholas’s hand travels up the side of your neck, taking hold of the side of your face as he starts to move, thrusting into you at a pace you both can adjust to well. He keeps your face turned to his with his grip and even though it makes everything feel more intimate than maybe it should, it’s also really fucking hot. “Feels good, baby?” He asks, his eyes boring into yours, his hips slowly picking up their pace. You nod because yeah. It feels so fucking good. Too good, maybe.

You like the feeling of Nicholas keeping you in place the way he wants you. You like the way he’s constantly kissing you as he fucks you, groaning against your lips when he thrusts into you particularly hard, grinning when you moan his name. You like the sight of his hair dripping with sweat and his thick silver chain dangling above you. You like the way he pays so much attention to you, especially when he starts fucking into you at a relentless pace that neither of you will be able to withstand long. You like the way he asks you if it feels good, if you want more, if you’re going to cum for him when he feels you quivering beneath him.

“Fuck, I’m going to cum too.” His voice is so low now that you almost can’t hear him properly. He finally looks away from you, eyes trained on your lower halves. His mouth is open as he puts all of his concentration into hitting just the right spot inside of you, sucking air through his teeth as he staves off his own orgasm until he can pull one out of you. “Come on, baby, cum for me. Let me feel you.”

But you don’t need to be told. He’s hitting that sweet spot that makes you see stars, your head pressing back into the mattress under you and your hands clutching at his arms. The moan that accompanies your orgasm is lewd, echoing your gratefulness for release. You twitch as he fucks you through it, equally grateful for your orgasm so he no longer has to postpone his own. His eyes squeeze shut as he releases inside of you and he’s never looked prettier–jaw tense but open, brows furrowed, skin gleaming with sweat. The strangled moan is on loop inside your head, music to your ears.

As Nicholas comes down from his high, he opens his eyes once again, smiling weakly but happily at your fucked out face. He carefully pulls out of you and gathers you in his arms, rolling the two of you over so you’re laying on his chest. His chest is heaving beneath your head, his arm securely around your lower back. Again, you feel like this is maybe a little bit more intimate than it should be, but it still doesn’t feel that way. It just feels comfortable with Nicholas.

You stay silent for a few minutes, both of you catching your breath and recovering. As your brain comes back to you, you have a question.

“Nicholas?” “Yeah, baby?”

You ignore the ‘baby.’ You’ll correct him later. “When we were playing the game earlier, were you imagining what it would be like if I gave you head?”

He laughs. He wasn’t expecting that to be the question right now. “Uh…yeah.”

You laugh now. “So…why was I the one that got head then?”

Nicholas thinks. He thinks some more. “...Ladies first?”

You both laugh this time. He’s implying there will be a next time, you think to yourself. You don’t correct him. You’ll do that later too.

#nicho #nicho smut #&team smut #andteam smut #andteam nicholas smut #&team nicholas smut #nicholas smut

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itsdappleagain · 10 months

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a tale as old as time: a neurodivergent suicidal artist bro and the centuries old greek goddess who comes down to earth to inspire him. they might kiss. if they do that the muse might get executed by her own father. and the artist might as a result kill himself. but they might kiss

#xanadu posting #their relationship is subtly fucked up i love them #sonny? love at first sight. wow a foxy lady who listens to my ideas and doesnt laugh at them #hello to the only reason im not throwing myself off a cliff into the ocean!#kira? shes just like mm i want The Great Gift of Xanadu guess ill go down and stop that poor bastard from offing himself to help me get tha #then she really casually mind controls him and the entire santa monica pier for a hot second #their love story is such a fucking roller coaster #yeah kira would break all three fundamental rules for him. she would risk being executed for breaking these because she loves sonny too muc #to resist #yeah they find out that their love is fake and actually a curse placed on them in order to sabatoge kira #and then. unlearn that because leg warmers are amazing and eros/cupid sucks absolute balls at their job #yeah there are three songs in quick succession begging kira not to leave #and immediately after kira berates sonny for being an idiot #and then..sonny sings another one about how sad he is that she's leaving. and then i think almost tries to kill himself again #and then he immediately changes his mind and climbs to mount olympus and tries to fistfight zeus #like why. why #have i mentioned this is an absurd comedy #there are next to no moments played seriously

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dredgesnails · 1 month

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i genuinely think the people who insist the life series is scripted just don’t understand the difference between something scripted and something that’s been given a basic premise and directives that everyone involved in agrees to play along with for the bit. like, no, specific moments aren’t scripted, but there’s a reason the series isn’t just “best pvper wins” and it’s because they deliberately prioritise entertainment over pure skill because the same person winning every time just wouldn’t be fun.

like, for the most part they’re a bunch of drama kids who have been given the perfect playground to act out the shakespearian tragedy of their dreams (some more so than others) (hello rendog) and they’re given the tools and situation to do so but everything else is just improv. and they’re also just having fun like i think we should all remember they’re doing this to have fun with their friends and play on a server where anything goes and they can grief all they want and sometimes they’ll just make stupid mistakes like walking off the side of a diving board and dying because they were so miffed about losing to a best tower competition they forgot where the stairs were, or blowing themselves up with their own tnt trap because they placed one block in the wrong place.

also i think people forget just how generally predictable people are in general, like after five seasons you can definitely start to guess how people will behave because they’re just like that. joel is reckless and he likes to poke the bear, martyn is good at staying alive but not good at keeping hearts (the difference between winning limlife and going out early in secret life), scott is good at the social game and a formidable opponent but also terribly self sacrificial, bdubs will betray anyone he’s allied with if offered something good, etc etc etc

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designernishiki · 1 year

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I never finished the telephone club stuff in 0 until today (currently replaying 0, trying to 100% the game) and like. actually. what the fuck was up with the bad-end telephone club dates. like. not even exaggerating, completely unironically, it is fully implied that kiryu got fucking raped. multiple times. as a joke. that’s absolutely fucking wild

#it’s so fucking jarring #I mean kiryu is sexually assaulted all the damn time (mostly by women #because he’s a man so it’s okay :) ) but this is like. full-on implied rape.#unclear what kind in particular but that’s really unimportant #it literally gets to the point where after one of them- a woman old enough to be his mom (mind you he is hardly even legal and definitely #not at the maturity of most 20 year olds in this area) forcibly takes him to a hotel and the next thing we see is him outside that hotel #with his health bar completely depleted keeled over like he’s exhausted and in physical pain/discomfort #muttering to himself ‘that didn’t happen. that didn’t happen.’#like #this was?? played off like any other end-of-substory comedic moment #bitch that wasn’t funny at all that was actually the most disturbing non-storyline scene ive seen in this entire game #he is straight up traumatized from being physically and sexually assaulted by someone twice his age and just has to shove it in the back of #his head and hope he forgets about it somehow because. well. he’s a man.#like wow we’re really just. gonna glide over that one huh #fucking christ dude #I seriously wonder how much that shit has haunted him and damaged his perception of physical affection/etc #anyway this is gonna linger in my head for a while #kiryu #rambling #yakuza 0 #y0 #kazuma kiryu #cw sa mention #cw sa

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chirpos-pencil · 6 months

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Ah, I just finished my second Danganronpa 1 playthrough. Very refreshing and my head is filled with juicy new drawing ideas. Really, what an amazing game!! 🥰

#The trust Makoto puts on his friends and fighting off any thought that says otherwise 💚#Makoto's and Kyoko's growing bond as the days passed by is just 💚💜#Makoto reminscing about the dead like #at some point in chapter 5 I think; if you visit the library and click on the bookshelves;#he says something about “Hifumi being upset that there were no comicbooks”#and in the Rec room if you click on the othello board #he wonders if “Celeste ever found someone to play othello with her”#and in Chapter 6 after Monokuma opens all door; when you try to interact with Sayaka's door #he says “It has nothing to do with the investigation. No time for detours now. *Right Sayaka?*” ouughh #and if you click on that 'drum-like thing??' next to the wooden lockers in the dojo #he says “I can imagine Sakura out here trying to train”#and that part of the game with all the options being 'The Togami family fell' Chills!#and lastly of course the incredible final moment; Makoto shooting 'Hope' bullets to his almost-despaired friends #also makoto's japanese voice is going to live rent free in my head now. So do some other characters' voices!#and genocide syo's laughter is also gonna live rent free. Kyehahahaha!#Seriously; this game!! 💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛#chirpos chirps

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scootarooni · 1 year

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Imma be real yall

I'm so burned out from pkmn

#like in an official sense at least #still love me some good fan content!!!#but official game wise i think scarlet is where my journey is gonna end 😔#been playing since og red version before i could even really read lmao. treasured every moment with this franchise-#-and will continue to through replaying and fan content and fan games but i dont see myself throwing down more money for the games anymore #i think i should have give up after gen 7 becos swsh was ass lol. scarlet was fun but i have not touched that game since beating it #im just tired of paying full price for a half-finished buggy game and paying for a post-game and the push for dlc preorders--#introducing half thought out gimmicks only to drop them the next gen #not to be That Guy but i do think we're finally at the point where there are too many pokemon #i made fun of ppl for saying this back in gen5 and 7 becos like. new exciting things were still being added to the meta!#but now it just feels stale #like ok this gen we're just gonna give u sweepers and kill stall tactics #ok this gen we're gonna give u a bunch of broken/stupidly powerful pkmn have fun #to everyone who is enjoying their time with these games! i am genuinely happy for you!!! i wish i was right there with you!#but its seriously burning me out #scout.txt

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oloreaa · 2 years

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God of War is a full course meal masterpiece

#aaaaaaaa this game is amazing #literally!!!!!#greek and norse mythology in one!!! grumpy father and his BOY #*deep voice* B O Y #amazing graphics amazing storyline this is 10/10 #gonna be my next obsession for a long time #anyways check it out its super long but super worth it #im watching the bf play through it and we're just started helheim at the moment #its so cool this game is seriously 10000000/10 #god of war #siya speaks

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fishareglorious · 2 years

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JOLLIBEE?!??!!! IN MY GACHA GAME???

I could not resist once again the siren’s call of pulling so I pulled in the weapon banner to see what I would get. Idk if these are good weapons.

Girl you are on fucking fire

Also Noelle got to level 81 just by being in my party 90% of the time. You go girl

Time to blast “Miko’s night” when a Yae Miko player enters or something

#genshin impact #playing genshin #i dont have those vase things that play music in my teapot #also how tf are those two dudes living in jueyun karst not bothered by the two dendro slimes living next to them #seriously when i do their commissions i literally get hit by those little bastards the moment i finish the commission #well i have yanfei so i set them on fire and end up burning the entire area lmaooo

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ikiprian · 2 months

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Tim swears Phantom could’ve been a Titan. Maybe he should be, at this point. They have enough in common to justify it.

“Jeez,” Phantom groans. Abruptly, he drops the levitation and hits the roof without sound. He stretches out on his back like a cat, sore muscles straining in a way Red Robin deeply relates to. “Fighting the living sucks. At least with ghosts I can swing as hard as I need. Already dead means they get back up! But mortals? Way too squishy.”

Red Robin huffs in agreement. “Yeah,” he says. After a moment’s consideration, he lies down, too.“It’s a hundred times harder than people realize. Batman’s always going on about perfect control in training. About how to have it, you gotta be twice as skilled as the other guy. Even without your super-strength, I worry sometimes.”

“How do you do it?” Phantom asks. In a move only achievable to those without bones, or perhaps Dick Grayson, he twists himself over. Gloved hands cup his cheeks. His legs kick back and forth, like they’re gossiping at a slumber party. “I mean. You said you train, so obviously there’s the physical ‘how.’ But how do you keep your emotions nonlethal? How do you keep yourself in check, make sure you’re pulling back?”

“I mean,” says Red Robin. “Murder is illegal, so.”

Phantom sighs. “Yeah. Maybe it’s easier for you.”

… Hm. Maybe Red Robin should redo Phantom’s risk assessment.

Before he can raise too high an eyebrow (though even moving that muscle smarts, ow), Phantom elaborates.

“Ecto-based entities have trouble with their emotions,” he explains. “It’s easy to get lost in an Obsession, or a big feeling like grief. The rest of the world… it bleeds away. Helps to have another emotional anchor to keep it at bay. I use fear.”

“Fear?” Red Robin glanced over.

“Sometimes sheer stubbornness,” Phantom admits. “But a lot of it is fear.”

With a considering frown, he drops his head atop his arms. Exhaustion, regret, reluctance play out on his face. For someone the Bats know next to nothing about, Phantom’s body language is an open book.

“I saw, like, an alternate future version of myself once where I become evil and try to take over the world? So now I gotta be good to keep that from happening. The fear of that future keeps the pressure on me. Makes me focus up. Y’know?”

Tim sits up. “Seriously?”

Phantom nods. “Uh-huh. Kinda bizarre, I know—”

“What the hell,” says Tim. Three consecutive days together and a concussion must loosen his lips, because holy shit, no way. “Dude! Me too!”

“Huh? Seriously?” says Phantom.

“Yeah! I totally saw myself turn evil. Like, Batman but with guns. Guns Batman. I had to fight him and everything. He tried to kill my friends and erase my memory to make sure I couldn’t un-invent him by going back to change the past?”

“Oh my god.”

“What?”

“Oh my god, me too!”

happy wips wednesday!

#they get on like a house on fire after this convo #danny totally gets to meet the titans #do you guys ever think about titans tomorrow #dcxdp #dpxdc #kipwrite #kipsnip #danny fenton #tim drake #prompt #dead tired ship #<- up to interpretation really #honestly not much of a wip tho this was just a warm up #but warm up wednesday doesnt sound as good

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pennyellee · 4 months

Text

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐠𝐧𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐌𝐏𝐀𝐆𝐍𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐅𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐈 | 𝐉𝐉𝐊 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐁 𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐀𝐔 pairings: heartthrob!jk, yandere!jk x fashion employee f!reader genre: dark romance, smut, porn with plot, 90s word count: 14K beta read by @chaoticpuff17 (ily) masterlist

summary: You, a determined fashion designer, find yourself entangled in a collaboration with the irresistibly charming and egotistic heartthrob, Jeon Jungkook. Will this partnership remain strictly professional, or will he make the lines blur?

warnings: minors dni 18+ | sexual tension, emotional distress, teasing, fingering, unprotected sex, jk is selfish af, jk is delulu, oral (fem receiving), forced oral (m receiving) spanking, squirting, cum swallowing, creampie, yandere behaviour, obsessive behaviour, choking, rough sex, pussy pounding, bruises, manipulation, gaslighting, strong language, oppressiveness

disclaimer: this story is purely fictional, it does not depict real-life events or involve any actual members of BTS. This story will contain strong language, explicit content, obsessive behaviour, alcohol drinking, illegal activities, oppressiveness, which we do not condone.

author's note: so as I said in the preview, this did not go as planned but I really enjoyed writing this to the point that I might do a part 2, perhaps 3, but we'll see about that. JK is delulu af here and the reader does not think through everything. For those who did not read preview and came upon this just now - originally what i wanted to build around was how Rachel Green from Friends was offered a job at Louis Vuitton but it was in Paris and Ross did not want her to go - that was supposed to be the whole plot (with slight changes ofc), well and somehow it went a bit darker than i intended so instead of rom-com, i'd rather listed it as dark romance and yandere. Hope you'll enjoy it! Love, always.

1996

“He said what now?!” The sentence burst out of you with a high-pitched tone, nearly causing your latte to spill all over your pristine white blouse and grey blazer. Not exactly the ideal way to kick off a new month, you mused as your friend dropped the bombshell about a certain someone.

“That you’re the future mother of his children,” said your friend, an amused smirk playing on her face. “I seriously don’t know how you can still resist him, girl.” But resist him, you did.

Jeon Jungkook was undoubtedly one of the most sought-after and sexiest heartthrobs of the decade, possessed the best face card in the industry and carried the biggest ego in all of New York City. You could vividly recall the day he strolled inside of your office with the head of your department. A cocky, playful grin plastered on his face the moment his eyes landed on you.

Right from the very beginning, you made it crystal clear to Jungkook that your relationship would be strictly professional during your collaboration on the Calvin Klein project. He was given his own collection of men’s wear, and the job to work with him fell upon you.

You knew that this was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for you to elevate your standing within the fashion circle. Jeon Jungkook’s fame was immense, and your name would be signed on the collection too. It’s not like you are head over heels that your name would be associated specifically with Jeon Jungkook, but you understood right away that this could put you on the radar. Your boss had even hinted at the possibility of a higher position within the department.

He constantly teased you, flirted shamelessly, and crossed boundaries by touching you as if you were his girlfriend. It was wildly inappropriate, especially given that the two of you had never even gone out for a work dinner or lunch alone. There were always other people from the team, and yet he always managed to find a way to sit right next to you. But it seems Jungkook was still living in an illusion where you were his girlfriend.

Your gaze shifted to the majestic Twin Towers, standing proudly in the distance, as you let out an annoyed puff of air.

“He’s ridiculous,” you finally declared.

“Or cute,” countered your friend, opposing your viewpoint. She found this pseudo-relationship with Jungkook amusing, but a small part of her secretly wished you’d just give in and go out with him. It was quite some time since you were in a relationship, and Jeon Jungkook would definitely be a nice catch. You were not interested. Or you tried to persuade others that you aren’t.

“No, ridiculous,” you retorted again, lips pursed, and brows furrowed.

“Oh, come on, give him a chance finally!!” she exclaimed.

“Absolutely not! He’s egoistic, manipulative, a cocky little bastard with damn good hair,” you said, your tone rising as you reached your final proclamation, which had simply slipped out of your mind that way.

“See? One good thing — good hair. Marry him,” she laughed it off.

“Now you’re being ridiculous, and I’m going to be late for work.” You said while dusting your black skirt, grabbing your purse, and leaving a few bucks for the coffee. The song on the radio stopped your departure for a moment, listening to the familiar voice coming from it, you rolled your eyes.

“That’s a clear sign, Y/N. Give it a chance!” she called after you, and you couldn’t help but throw a side eye her way, though a small smile tugged at the corners of your lips nonetheless.

As the day passed, you found yourself increasingly entangled in the whirlwind of meetings, fittings, and photoshoots with an ever-present Jungkook. The photoshoots, in particular, became a source of both frustration and amusement. However today, a bigger problem surfaced.

“Why’s he half-naked, Lucy?!” You hissed at your assistant. Normally, you are very kind and respectful to everyone, but Jungkook had managed to irk you the moment you stepped into your office, finding him already seated in your chair with that smirk you despised. Bringing a coffee for you, which you never drink, or donuts that you always share with the department - not eating one yourself.

Jungkook, adorned in the latest Calvin Klein designs you two had meticulously crafted together, claimed a personal touch of his persona— at least, that’s how he described it. He looked effortlessly handsome, the camera adoring him, but what grated on your nerves was that his attention was solely focused on teasing you.

“We also have shirts, why is he not wearing one?!” You continued, expressing your disagreement to what was before you. What angered you even more was that you could not stop staring at his abs.

“We shot with shirts earlier. They said the underwear and jeans will appear more artistic if his V line and abs—”

“Alright! Alright!” You stopped her in mid-sentence. You didn’t want to look that way nor you didn’t want to admit that showcasing his V-line would enhance the aesthetics of the jeans. Therefore, you took a deep breath and walked towards the refreshments, you were in need of a second cup of coffee.

You heard the photographer call for a break, but you were focused on calming yourself with a steaming cup of coffee. Despite your irritation, you couldn’t deny that he looked breath-taking in the outfits you had designed, and it infuriated you.

Suddenly, two arms were laid flat on the table’s surface, caging you in between. You could imagine his devilish grin. He did this way too often, whether it was his fingers lightly tracing your arm or tucking a loose strand of your hair behind your ear, looking intently into your eyes until you were fighting yourself to not get lost in his Bambi eyes.

“We’re almost done for today,” he whispered seductively into your right ear, his lips almost touching it. Your breath stammered.

“And yet you did not learn a single thing about professionalism or work ethic.” You bit sarcastically, turning slowly to face him.

Jungkook’s grin only widened at your remark, and you couldn’t decide whether you were infuriated or slightly flustered by his audacity. He leaned in even closer, his breath grazing your ear as he spoke in a low, husky tone.

“Tutor me then, in bedroom — preferably” he suggested, his lips still dangerously close to the shell of your ear.

“I don’t think so. You’re beyond help,” you shot back, trying to assert control over the situation. His proximity was distracting, and you couldn’t afford to let him undermine the fact that you were in charge.

Jungkook continued to hover over you, the photographer calling for everyone to regroup for the next set of shots. You seized the opportunity to escape his magnetic pull, smoothly slipping out from between the table and his arms, deciding to escape to your humble office, seeking solace in the calmness it provided.

It wasn’t long before the shoot officially ended, and you knew damn well, that the man wouldn’t leave you alone. The door creaked open, and you turned to find Jungkook leaning against the frame, that infernal smirk still etched onto his face.

“We did a good job, why don’t we celebrate it over at my place, baby?” he complimented, but there was an undertone of something else in his voice. You overlooked his physique and leaned back in your chair, narrowing your eyes, making a clicking sound with your tongue.

“Jungkook, again, this was a professional collaboration. Nothing more,” you asserted, emphasising each word. If you did not say this sentence at least a hundred times you don’t know. He never takes it seriously; it appears as he is still trying to hammer his way into your guarded heart.

He pushed himself off the doorframe and sauntered closer. “We’ll see about that,” he said, leaving you with a cryptic grin as he exited your office. The only thing you could do is sigh.

Before you went to continue working, you heard how Jungkook’s voice echoed from the hallway.

“I bet I can change your mind, sweetheart!”

You rolled your eyes, muttering under your breath.

“Not a chance.”

The denim collection with Jungkook was taking shape, and the buzz surrounding the collaboration grew with each passing day. A success, your boss was much more than pleased.

This success, however, meant even more for you. You were on cloud nine, basking in the glory of your hard work and the prospect of a ground-breaking partnership. Totally, forgetting to play unreachable when it came to the clinging boy who starred in this iconic collaboration. And that must have given him a false hope, perhaps a narrative in which you were his girl.

You were sitting in your office when you hung up the telephone after speaking with the vice president of Guess that contacted you earlier last week, offering you a part in a project for their brand, in Los Angeles. A dream come true for you. Leaving this place, after years of building your career from scratch, felt overwhelming. You loved working under Klein, yet it was time for you to take it higher. Your boss did not offer you a new position, and therefore, you did not hesitate to take the job opportunity and elevate yourself in fashion ranks.

It was an offer too tempting to resist, and you found yourself diving headfirst into the project, not even looking at the door when someone stepped in without knocking.

“You may leave the reception reports on the table, Lucy,” you said once feeling a presence in your office, not raising your eyesight from your computer, writing the prompts for the project Guess wants you to lead. Your twelve days’ notice already printed out, ready to be signed by your boss. You planned to stop by his office after you would finish writing the draft and sending it to the Guess team together with the copy of your portfolio that you needed to make before you leave.

When there were no reports left on your table after a good long minute, you looked up.

“You can’t just leave.” he said, standing tall in the frame of the door, stepping inside once you finally gave him your attention. You could sense a hint of desperation and anger in his voice.

You raised your brows at him. How does he know? The mere thought of you leaving for LA, leaving him behind, was enough to make him confess the depth of his feelings.

You leaned to the leather armchair and listened to him closely.

“What are you talking about Jungkook?” His eyes betrayed a mix of anxiety and vulnerability as he blurted out his fears.

“What about us? What about everything we’ve built together?” He stepped closer to your desk, looking directly to your eyes. You were taken aback by the raw emotion in his words. The air in the room thickened.

The once-confident man now stood vulnerable before you, stripped of the bravado that had defined him. And you were utterly confused and surprised how delusional this man is.

“What are you even saying, Jungkook?” you questioned, your tone a mix of confusion and frustration.

“You can’t leave me!” He raised his voice an octave higher.

“Calm your tits. I’m a grown-up woman. I can do what I want.” You sassed back at him, tired of this made up situation-ship in his head. He scoffed, a bitter smile playing on his lips.

“We’ve built something special, and I can’t watch it crumble because of some job offer!” He continued his rampage. You took a moment to breathe his words in, closing your eyes and counting to ten to calm yourself.

“Jungkook, I appreciate your honesty, but I can’t give you what you’re asking for.” This caught him by surprise. Instead of screaming at him, you chose to play the I’ll stay calm and professional card.

His eyes widened in disbelief, a mix of confusion and hurt clouding his features. “What do you mean?”

Choosing your words carefully, you said: “I genuinely value this project we worked on together, but it’s time for us to part our ways.” To fool him was your goal.

Jungkook’s shoulders slumped, the weight of your words settling upon him. “Who are you lying to, Y/N?” His words shocked you.

“I’m not lying Jungkook, I’m telling you the truth to your face, as you were too stubborn to hear it before.” You stood up from your chair, moving to lean on the front of your desk, to show him he cannot get to you.

The room fell into a heavy silence as Jungkook looked deep into your eyes, searching for the truth in your words.

“So, it’s all about the career for you? You’re willing to sacrifice everything else, including us?” Your jaw clenched, but you maintained your composed façade and with flaring nostrils and clenched teeth, you spoke.

“There is no us, Jungkook. Get it into your head already!” So much for being calm. The room crackled with tension as the argument reached an impasse. Jungkook shook his head, a mixture of disbelief and frustration.

“I can’t believe you’re throwing away what we have because of some job.” Your eyes widened even more and the fact he would not listen boiled your blood.

“Do I need to spell it out for you? I’m not your girlfriend! I was never your girlfriend, and I will never be your girlfriend!”

But Jungkook wasn’t ready to accept defeat. His frustration reached a boiling point too, and without warning, he grabbed you by the shoulders, pulling you into an intense, angry kiss. It was a clash of emotions, a tumultuous blend of passion and anger that fuelled the fiery exchange.

Your initial instinct was to resist, to push him away, but the intensity of the kiss ignited a different kind of fire within you. His lips moved fiercely against yours, gripping your ass in his hands, making you moan to his lips. Your hands found their way to his hair, fingers threading through the dishevelled locks as the kiss deepened, your frustration causing to tug them. He growled from pleasure at the sensation.

It was a collision of lips and tongues, a heated exchange that spoke volumes without a single word. Once his hands disappeared under your skirt and the heat intensified, a sudden surge of clarity washed over you, breaking the intoxicating spell.

With a forceful push, you broke away from the kiss, creating a space between you and Jungkook. You locked eyes with him, your chest heaving as you struggled to regain control of the situation.

“I need you to leave,” you stated, your voice cutting through the lingering tension, you leaned against the desk, your heart still racing from the intensity of the moment.

Jungkook, still caught in the haze of desire, tried to close the distance again, but you held up a hand, halting his advance.

“Leave!” You growled, turning your back to him. You didn’t want him to see your face anymore, because soon enough, tears would break from your eyes. You’re overwhelmed.

A loud bang of the door signalled that he finally understood and left. Breaking down with tears streaming down your cheeks you gasped for air. Tears blurred your vision as you struggled to regain composure.

You’ve counted to ten again, wiping your tears. You felt taken advantage of. He went too far this time. But this was only the beginning of his tremulous and wicked plan he had for you.

You packed your purse, ready to leave your office, you just needed to grab your work portfolio that you needed to send over to Guess. But the space it always inhabited, on the conference table, was empty. And you had one lucky guess who the thief was. “Fucking bastard.”

In the days that followed, the chaos in your personal and professional life escalated. The stolen portfolio, a representation of your work, became a haunting absence. As if the life source of your hard work was cut down.

Determined to salvage what remained of your career, you began the arduous task of recreating it. But time was not on your side, and as you delved into the meticulous process, news of your termination from Calvin Klein reached you like a punch to the gut.

The phone call was impersonal, a cold voice delivering the news of your dismissal as if reading from a script. Some Jack from the HR department spoke to you, someone you have never ever seen in the building whatsoever. Your boss did not even pick up the call when you wanted to ask what made them push the decision to let you go. You certainly did not deserve this after years of working for the brand. The reasons were vague and you knew this had to source from someone powerful. In simple terms, someone snitched that you’re planning to leave.

As the reality of unemployment settled in, you clung to the remnants of optimism that lingered, but even that proved elusive.

You were hundred percent sure that he is trying to sabotage your whole life when the call from Guess, a reason you did not fight for your position at Klein’s delivered another blow.

Their decision not to collaborate with you crushed the remnants of optimism that clung to your spirit. The dream that had seemed within reach now slipped through your fingers, leaving you in a free fall of uncertainty.

They hadn’t even granted you the courtesy of waiting for your portfolio, even though it wouldn’t be what they expected. Whatever oral agreement had been in place disintegrated. So here you are — jobless.

All this left you reeling with disbelief. The career you had meticulously built, the dreams that had taken years to nurture, all unravelling at the seams. The pain was visceral, a mix of frustration, anger, and a profound sense of betrayal.

You were certain that Jeon Jungkook himself was pulling the strings behind the scenes. And you hated him for it, needed to confront him and say that shit with your chest right to his face— he can go fuck himself. Set the record straight once you’re there.

Whatever he was thinking by ruining your career will force you to do, he better fix it before you’ll sing to the media about his bunny smile and kind heart being all fake. The line had been crossed, and he would face the consequences of pushing you to the brink. Or so you thought it would go how your brain delusional thought it through.

Hence, with a heavy heart and a determination to confront the chaos head-on, you stood before the front door of his infamous penthouse. Emotions swirling within you like a tempest.

With a deep breath, you knocked, the sound echoing through the quiet hallway. The door swung open, revealing Jungkook’s bunny smile reaching his eyes.

“Well, well well, are we ready to talk like adults, pretty?” He mocked this whole situation because he knew this would end up in his favour, nonetheless.

He moved back to let you in, and you stepped into his apartment, a mixture of anger and desperation in your gaze.

“I know you took it,” you said, crossing your arms on your breasts. The heels of your black leather boots echoed in the apartment when you turned to face him.

“Took your breath away by that heated kiss, sexy, certainly. Otherwise, I did not take anything.” Jungkook scoffed, crossing his arms defensively. The tension in the room was palpable as you square your shoulders, refusing to back down. You blinked twice at his cheesiness. The tip of your tongue moved to rest on the bottom of your upper teeth, your smile spreading on your face. The chuckle came out of you so naturally, laughing at his ridiculously ridiculous behaviour.

“Don’t play dumb, I know it was all you. You malicious sabotaging petty boy—” You retorted, articulation perfectly clear while the words laced with underlying frustration and anger.

He sighed, weariness settling over him. “You think I stole your portfolio to sabotage your career? You’re giving me too much credit, love.” Here he comes.

“I said nothing about my portfolio, Jungkook.” You said playing with his name on your tongue. A tense silence hung in the air as he considered your words, clicking his tongue, clearly annoyed and you were just getting started.

“I managed to figure that out. A drink? —” He offered, shrugging her statements of like snow in summer whilst he moved to the small bar that was a part of his spacious living room.

“I don’t want a drink, Jungkook. I want it back now,” you replied, your tone cutting through the casual offer. The anger in your gaze intensified, fuelled by the frustration of dealing with his nonchalant attitude.

“Let’s talk, baby.” He gestured towards the living room, as if trying to usher you into a more comfortable setting for the impending confrontation. He knew this was just a little shower, the real storm was still far away, giving him space to prepare.

As you moved, you could not help but notice the contrast between your demeanour and his. While your arms were still crossed defensively, his posture exuded a calm confidence that irked you further.

You took a seat on the edge of the sofa, not willing to fully settle into the illusion of camaraderie. Jungkook, on the other hand, sprawled onto a nearby chair, the picture of nonchalance.

“I need that portfolio to get a job because a certain someone has to be bitchy and sabotage my whole career because his big ass ego cannot take rejection. Give it to me,” you fired off, your words sharp and accusatory. He leaned back in the chair, smirking.

“Those are very bold words, Y/N. I would prefer to think of it as a wake-up call for you, not sabotage.” Your incredulous glare only intensified.

“Are you fucking serious Jungkook? A wake up call? You’ve just jeopardised everything I’ve worked for, and you’re calling this a wake up call?”

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his gaze locked onto yours.

“I can get you a better job.”

You scoffed. The audacity of his response fuelled the simmering anger within you.

“You can’t get a shit, so give it back to me, and I’ll be on my way,” you requested.

Jungkook’s smirk remained, an infuriating mix of arrogance and nonchalance.

“No,” he said, smiling. Your hands clenched into fists at your sides, the frustration reaching a boiling point. He leaned back, seemingly unperturbed by your rising anger.

“What do you mean no?!” you shot back, your voice sharp.

“You were about to make a decision that would have consequences beyond your imagination. I had to intervene.”

“What the fuck are you on again?” Jungkook’s gaze remained fixed on you, the intensity of his stare almost unnerving while your voice went an octave higher. Your frustration reached its peak, and you stood up, pacing the room as you ranted. You were breathing heavily, trying to calm yourself.

You needed that portfolio, it was a collection of years of a work and your best work to be specific. The lousy new version won’t get you a job at no high-profile fashion brand and you cannot afford to go lower than your last position.

“Alright—” You said defeated, turning yourself to face him again, you put off your black leather jacket and fixed your low ponytail, slumping back to his sofa. Spreading your arms on the backrest and cross your legs.

Jungkook took a moment to breathe in the sight before him; he was throbbing for you.

“—what do you want?” you asked. He leaned back further into the chair, putting his masculine tattooed arms to rest on the back of his head, showing his abs from under the white tank top he is wearing.

“What do I want?” he mused, as if contemplating the question but he already knew.

“Spill it out.” You barked and he chuckled at your eagerness. He got up from his seat and dangerously slowly walked towards you.

When he reached you, both of his arms pressed to the leather of the sofa inches from you, caging your body. Your breath stammered as you looked at him towering over you, the golden chain around his neck hanging.

“Firstly, I want you to be my good girl, apologise for being a brat the other day and admit there is an “us”. Secondly—” he whispered seductively, closing the approximate distance while doing so. He was right in your face, looking over at your lips evidently, he was controlling himself to not attack them. He invaded your personal space. The sudden shift in atmosphere left you breathless, and you could feel the heat radiating between you.

You squared your shoulders, refusing to succumb to the intoxicating energy he exuded. “I won’t apologise for any shit, now secondly?” You said while trying to hold your horses. You hate to admit your pussy was clenching and leaking under his gaze. He was attractive, and no one could deny that.

His fingers grazed your cheek gently, a teasing touch that sent a jolt of electricity through your body. You swallowed hard, trying to maintain a semblance of composure.

“I want these feisty little plump lips wrapped around my thick cock—” you pushed him away from you once you heard his words. Grabbing your jacket and storming your way out to the door, angry with yourself that you let it go this far.

“You walk out that door, and you’re done in this city, fuck even the whole continent if I want,” Jungkook declared, his tone heavy with a sense of entitlement. The words hung in the air, a threat laced with possessiveness that sent a chill down your spine.

“You’re bluffing.” His eyes darkened, a storm brewing in their depths.

“You’re underestimating the consequences, Y/N. I’ll snap my fingers, and you won’t get a job. Anywhere.” A bitter laugh escaped your lips. You did not believe him one bit, determined to try harder at the job hunting.

“You’ve already done enough. You can’t do worse.” You scoffed, the absurdity of his demands pushing you further away. He stepped closer, the air thick with tension.

“You’re not leaving, Y/N. Either you’ll be my good girl and apologise, or all it will take is one phone call.” As you reached for the doorknob, he grabbed your arm with a force that bordered on aggression.

“I am my own woman, Jungkook.” Your eyes flashed with determination as you wrenched your arm free, emphasising every word of the sentence you just uttered.

With that, you swung the door open and stormed out, leaving Jungkook’s apartment and the tumultuous mess behind. The city lights greeted you outside, a stark contrast to the suffocating atmosphere within.

Your telephone remained eerily silent, devoid of the calls and opportunities that once filled it with promise. Jungkook’s vindictiveness had effectively severed the threads connecting you to your professional life, leaving you adrift in a sea of uncertainties.

A tear escaped your eye as you clutched the piece of paper you fetched out of your mailbox — an eviction notice. You had fallen behind on rent, pleading with your landlord for more time, promising to pay in full for two months once you secured a job. But that ended up not happening, and that’s how you find yourself sitting in a messy apartment full of half packed boxes, no job, little money left, and a bottle of cheap wine.

Moving in with friends or seeking refuge with your parents was not an option. They never supported your dreams enough to provide for you in such dire circumstances, especially at your age. Unmarried, jobless, and on the brink of homelessness, you felt trapped.

Despite your efforts to secure another job, including poorly recreating parts of your portfolio, rejections piled up, and the search for a new apartment proved equally futile. Not like you could afford it anyway.

The city that once held promise now felt like a maze of closed doors and dead ends. The mere thought of dialling his number sent a shiver down your spine, a conflicting mix of pride and necessity wrestling within you.

You drank the last of your wine, hiccupped, and cried. With only twenty-four hours to vacate your flat for the new tenant to come in. The friends you once thought you could rely on were facing their own struggles, unable to provide the sanctuary you so desperately needed. You had nowhere to go apart to his clutches if you of course did not want to freeze to death in the bustling city. It confused you how it came to having no other option.

Taking a deep breath, you dialled his number, each ring echoing the surrender of your independence. The telephone rang in your trembling hand. As the call connected, a heavy silence hung in the air and you desperately tried to calm your breathing.

“Jeon speaking,” his voice crackled through the phone. You were shaking in cold sweat, your eyes blood red from crying and alcohol clouded your mind enough to call him.

“Hello?” you heard his voice speak again, and another sob left your lips. The lump in your throat made it difficult to speak, but you pushed through the discomfort.

“I-I’m sorry.” The man on the other line smirked, seemingly thrilled to hear your voice. The next sentence you uttered, however, was even sweeter music to his ears.

“I need you.”

You heard his car park in front of your building the next morning. The boxes were long gone on their way to the heart of Manhattan where Jungkook’s penthouse awaited. It was only you and your suitcase with only necessities packed inside. The reality of the situation hit you as you looked around at the empty apartment. The purple walls, once full of pictures from trips with your friends, were now bare. The fridge stripped of silly magnets you liked to collect, stood empty. Nothing left.

Taking a deep breath, you gripped the handle of your suitcase with a sense of resignation. You glanced out of the window on your way out, finding Jungkook casually leaning against his shiny black Jaguar, smiling directly at you. Closing your eyes, you mentally said goodbye to your small apartment.

Your hair, lazily put into a hair clip when you woke up, had a few stray strands escaping, framing your face that still showed signs of swelling from crying all night.

As you stepped out into the hallway, the door closing behind you, the weight of the suitcase in your hand served as a physical reminder of the choice you had made. Is this really your only option?

The sound of Jungkook’s footsteps echoed in the corridor, approaching closer with each passing second. He ran up the stairs just as you were locking the door. His gummy smile met your gaze, a clear expression of his happiness. The heartthrob had finally gotten you where he wanted you all along.

He was dressed in a denim jacket and jeans from the collection you worked on. As if he was intent on reminding you of something. His long curly locks were gone, replaced by a short mullet.

You, on the other hand, did not feel to dress classy and elegant as you usually did. You swapped heels for a pair of white sneakers, a tight designer skirt for simple blue boyfriend jeans and your upper body was covered by a white shirt layered with a pink shirt you loosely tight on your waist, leaving the buttons half open.

“Baby?” he called out. You must’ve zoned out, as now he was holding your suitcase in his hand, ready to leave.

“M’sorry, I was in my head,” you apologised. You didn’t want to upset him by negatively reacting to the pet name even though you irked to tell him you’re not his baby.

He smiled softly, putting the suitcase down, walking over to you. He caressed your cheek, leaning in for a kiss. Turning your face, he landed his lips on your other cheek. The man chuckled and put the freed strands of your hair behind your ear. “Don’t worry. I got you now.”

The drive to Jungkook’s penthouse was filled with an uncomfortable silence as the city lights passed by in a dizzying display.

“Welcome home!” The words hung in the air, the irony not lost on you. This was far from a home; it was a gilded cage you succumbed to. You did not answer him. You couldn’t bring yourself to do so.

He was saying something about a closet, but your mind totally spaced out looking at the boxes that you packed hours prior, casually sitting in his living room.

“Baby?” You looked at him, eyes wide when you realised you were not listening to him again.

“Do you want to start unpacking or should we head out for brunch first?” He approached you. Jungkook did not stop smiling since he pulled his car in front of your building.

Unpacking felt like an acceptance of this new reality, while brunch felt like an attempt to hold onto some semblance of normalcy.

“I... I think we should talk,” you finally managed to say, your voice carrying the uncertainty that lingered within. Jungkook’s smile wavered for a moment, but he quickly masked it.

You couldn’t ignore the fact that your life had taken a sharp turn, and the unfamiliar surroundings only intensified the sense of displacement. Jungkook threw himself at his sofa just where you were sitting months prior. He motioned with his hand, silently ordering you to sit.

“I promise not to bother you long. I just need you to get me off the blacklist so I can get a job. I can’t be tied to you indefinitely.” You spoke softly, careful to not anger him just yet. You knew he wouldn’t appreciate the direction this conversation was heading, but you needed to set the record straight. This was temporary, at least in your mind.

Jungkook’s expression shifted, a subtle tension in his features. He sighed. Leaning forward, Jungkook grabbed the remote control of the HiFi that was standing proud, setting it on, and whence the soft tones of Isaak’s “Wicked Game” resonated the penthouse, you could not help but raise an eyebrow.

He petted his knee, a silent invitation. You were not stupid to not understand what he wants, yet you opted to sit next to him instead of where he wanted you.

“Maybe we got lost in translation, love.” He spoke leaning closer to you. The music seemed to underscore the unspoken tension in the room.

“You won’t leave me, baby. I’ll keep you so satisfied and happy; you won’t even want to go.” He whispered to your ear. The atmosphere became charged with a palpable desire. His proximity sent a shiver down your spine, a conflicting mix of temptation and resistance.

“You can’t keep me here against my will, Jungkook,” you asserted, maintaining a thin thread of defiance. Yet, the allure of his touch lingered in the air, clouding your better judgement.

“Try me, love. I’ve got ways to make you stay,” he countered, his tone dripping with confidence.

It took all you have in you to stand up and storm to the large windows that provided a magnificent view of Manhattan. This time, however, he was right behind you.

You heard him growl. He was angry, and he proved so once you found yourself pinned to the large window, your back facing him. He attacked your neck right away, bruising every single inch. His hand roamed over your breast, squeezing them to the point you had to moan. The situation escalated rather quickly, your resistance made him press you to his back even harder.

“I’m so tired of your running,” he groaned into your neck. You put your hands on the glass trying to push yourself away and give yourself space to free from his grasp, but he has put a majority of his weight on you. You can feel his growing pulsating bulge on your heart-shaped bottom.

“Maybe I should show you, who you belong to, princess.” He cupped your sex through your pants, and you whimpered from the sensation. You knew this was utterly wrong; you should not react to his touch this way, but you couldn’t help to notice the wetness pooling in between your legs once he continues to attack your neck with his soft plump lips.

“Jungkook-” You tried to resist, but his hand was already done with unbuttoning your jeans, sliding right down to your core. Your panties were sticky, your head was spinning, and the part of a window was getting foggy right next to your mouth from your hot breath.

“I’m gonna fuck you so good.” He pulled his hand out of your pants for a second to wet his fingers and put them right back on the little bud that was waiting to be touched. He pressed his fingertips on your clit, circling it painfully slow. The heartthrob rutted his hips into your ass, looking for a friction, making you move your hips towards his hand. He chuckled to your ear.

“If you want that job, baby, why don’t you deserve it first?” you could sense a little hint of mockery in his voice. The pulsating beats of the music seemed to echo the rhythm of his movements. Now slow and calculated.

As the song reached its crescendo, his finger entered your vibrating heat. “Hm?” He pried, his finger moving in and out in punishingly slow, drawing silent moans from you when he brushed up the right spot.

“W-what do you want?” You stammered out of yourself.

“You. All of you of course.” Jungkook replied in a heartbeat. Your heart raced and your head was clouded by the pleasure he was providing. Moving his finger slightly faster, you found yourself bowing forward, your body wanted him to reach deeper.

“Please—” you whimpered when he slowed down the tempo again.

“Give me an answer baby, will you be my good girl?” Now it was your mind that raced, grappling with the implications of his question while squeezing your walls around his finger.

“Maybe you need a little more convincing, hm?” He softly bit your earlobe whilst inserting his second finger into your heat, making you moan louder than before. You pressed your forehead onto the glass and looked down at his hand in between your legs. The sight made your pussy clench even harder. A small tear escaped your eye, you are overwhelmed, and the pleasure is clouding your sound judgement.

“What will it be, baby?” His fingers finally raised the tempo, and your eyesight was getting blurry, biting your lip from the sensation.

“Fuck—” you nibbed at your bottom lip a bit harder, trying to fight with yourself. But you couldn’t. He was playing a game, and he was winning this round.

“Yes!” you screamed louder than you intended when he hit the sweet spot, making you see stars. You did not necessarily want to agree. It was more of a reaction to how good his fingers feel inside of you. But Jungkook’s interpretation did not align with yours.

What you did not expect is the sudden feel of emptiness once his fingers abdicated its place. You protested with an unpleasant whine of frustration.

He spun you to face him, being quick enough to grab you below your ass, illocutionary forcing you to jump up. Jungkook leaned in to kiss you while he navigated the apartment blindly, right to the master bedroom.

Now you were feeling thrown. Literally. Your body bounced a little while Jungkook stood at the foot of his king sized bed adorned in black sheets. You could smell his expensive cologne on them. He was very eager to continue what you started.

His shirt was long gone and so were his pants when he was pulling down yours, alongside with your through-and-through wet panties. He very quickly inhabited his head in between your legs. Licking all the dirty juice your pussy was producing.

You could not help but to bury your fingers into his hair, slightly tugging on it once he decided to abuse your clit, sucking on it, his piercing cold against your skin. You were starting to feel the knot inside your lower belly, moaning and panting out loud.

“I’m gonna!—” you breathed out heavily. Squeezing your eyes shut, feeling the heat rushing your body.

“Not yet,” said the heartthrob, parting away from you. You shot your eyes open to look at him towering over you, his briefs thrown away somewhere in the room, and his pride leaning proudly against his abdomen, angry and red. The perfect opposite of soft. You gulped down. He was definitely not lying when he suggested he is thick.

The heartthrob helped you get rid of the rest of your clothes, bending down to lay a single kiss right above your clit, maintaining eye contact with you all the time. Sticking his tongue out yet again, making a straight wet line up your belly, ending at the valley between your breasts.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” He groaned, squeezing your tits while pumping his dick, he could not take it anymore.

He spread your legs further, making space for him to fit right in. Your walls are trembling from excitement, especially when he presses the length of his cock to your lips, coating himself in your juices.

“Condo—” you went to say when his lips silenced you in a hard passionate kiss. He moaned to your mouth, pressing the tip of his cock to your entrance, stretching you open. You pressed your hands to his chest, parting away from him. He looked at you with confusion and you repeated yourself.

“Condom, Guk,” you said, using the nickname in an attempt to soften his hard features. Something told you that you might have just pissed him off. The heartthrob sighed and involuntarily got up, walking all the way to the bathroom, giving you a million-dollar view of his ass. Your gaze then shifted to his muscular shoulders, involuntarily admiring his impressive physique. You couldn’t deny he was hot as hell.

Your nipples were perky from the thrill that your body was going through. It was quite some time since the last you got laid. Maybe that’s why it took him minimum effort to turn you into a whiny, needy little bitch.

You heard the light switch going off in the bathroom, and the man himself appearing in the doorframe with the little shiny square in his hands. Tearing it open, he returned to sit on his knees on the bed while sliding the condom on.

He grabbed your legs under your knees with one swift movement, sliding you closer to him. One hand aiming his cock to your entrance the other finding its place on your throat, holding it with the right pressure to elevate your pleasure. Pushing all the way through, you whimpered loudly at the intrusion. He was big, and you felt like you’re going to explode. The heat rushed through you like a momentary fever.

The heartthrob could not wait for you to adjust to his size, and he started to snap his hips into you in a punishing tempo, making your body bounce up at every thrust and clench your eyes shut tightly. Loud moans coming out of you.

“You take me so well, baby.” He whispered into your ear seductively, panting and groaning from the pleasure. He was on cloud nine, finally having the woman he longed for quite some time.

“Got me waiting for this pussy almost the whole damn year.” You met his hungry gaze, your moaning synchronised with his. He crushed his lips to yours one more time before thrusting his cock in and out of your heat faster and deeper.

You bit down on his lip, him groaning at the sensation, slapping your ass in the heat of the moment.

“This pussy was fucking designed for me.” He claimed you.

He was hitting all the right places, making you squeeze your eyes shut again. He upheld his promise to fuck you good. You can regret this after, now it’s not the time.

“M’wanna pound this pretty ass too.” He pulled out of you, turning you to lay on your belly, slapping the already reddened skin before setting you on all fours, ass up. He did not hesitate to rut inside of you again, feeling him all the way in your stomach, you screamed his name.

“Jungkook!” his thrusts set a brutal pace that you were not sure if you’ll survive. Their moans continued to echo in the room.

“You belong to me.” He growled, pounding your pussy, the sound of skin slapping was audible ten times louder than usual. The knot in your lower belly appeared again, got you moaning uncontrollably.

Jungkook sensed that your climax was near and went to rub your clit with the desire to make you cum all over him while getting himself off with you.

“Guk—” you choked on your words, your legs and hands were trembling, tears springing out of your eyes. You desperately needed to cum.

“I know, baby.” He kissed the arch of your back, making his hand and hips move even faster, hitting your cervix. If this is heaven, you don’t want to leave.

“I-I’m gonna cum! I’m gonna cum! I’m gonna cum!” You shouted, feeling the knot untying itself rather quickly. Jungkook growled right to your ear. He was close too, dangerously close.

“Baby!” He whimpered, feeling the tension rising.

Your juice splashed the sheets as you squirted all over his cock, crying, the orgasm hitting you way too hard. Jungkook’s hips did not stop while he chased his own release, complimenting you, your body, and how you are such a good girl while doing so. With a loud moan and one last deep thrust, he came in you, holding you still while he emptied himself. The warmth of his release felt too authentic, but you were too fucked out to notice.

As you were also too fucked out to notice the empty abandoned condom laying on the ground.

“I love you so much baby—”

It was getting dark outside when you woke up, your head pounding as you looked over your naked body and evident ache in between your legs. The sheer curtains that are covering the floor to ceiling windows, once airy and light, now filter the early evening light into a soft, diffused glow, creating a cosy atmosphere. You cuddled the soft sheets that were wrapped around your lower body, thinking that you could sleep some more.

But when you heard the muted notes of En Vogue’s Whatta Man blasting somewhere in the penthouse, any hopes of serenity were shattered. A curse slipped through your lips as the reality of your surroundings hit you.

“Fuck,” you muttered through your teeth, the small fists pounding against the bed. To muffle the scream of mixed emotions, you seized a leopard-patterned pillow, pressing it against your face.

You had willingly let this happen, all for the pursuit of a damn book and damn fucking job and your damn fucking career. But why was it so precious, you might ask? Your portfolio wasn’t just a collection of pages bound together; it was a culmination of dreams, aspirations, and relentless hard work. Each design you made over the years, a carefully curated piece of your artistic vision, held a piece of your soul.

The portfolio was your identity as a designer, a visual storyteller who poured emotions, creativity, and skill into each piece of clothing. It was something you presented yourself with, and you believed it held the power to open doors. It got you your first adult job after you spent two years in the big apple on your own, dreaming big while washing dishes behind the counter.

And it got you the second job of your early fashion career, a higher position than sales assistant, the head designer at the men’s wear division at Calvin Klein. You were aiming to become the head of the department when a better offer came your way, from Guess.

The project they offered you to be a part of was a kind of interview to get through and sit as the executive director of the women’s department. You were thrilled to accept as you always wanted to design for your gender.

And he fucked it up. So, you have to excuse yourself by letting your guard down, giving him a chance to sway you. You are doing this for you and your career.

You sat on the bed, eyeing the modern bedroom that screamed his name as did the smell of the room. Just like you remembered before you blacked out from all the pleasure he forced upon you.

Sighing, you moved your sore naked body to the edge of the bed. A black leather armchair caught your eye, a clean set of underwear laid out on it, burning under your gaze. You gulped down. This was your mess after all. You let him come too close—extremely close, judging by the recurring ache between your legs.

“Fuck it, it’s fine.” You’d manage somehow, or at least, that’s how you decided to play along with his nonsensical fantasy and possessive behaviour.

You tiptoed down the penthouse, searching for the devil. You knew you were going the right way when the music grew louder. Peeking from the narrow hallway into the living room, he was nowhere in sight. Only the RCA telly with MTV on indicated that he must’ve been there.

The sizzling sound of something cooking and a pleasant aroma hit your ears and nose. He was in the kitchen, cooking. Jeon Jungkook was in the kitchen, cooking. A certain degree of domesticity welcomed you as you stepped into the all-blue kitchen. His kitchen was way nicer than yours, you noted. Large cabinets, the island full of food ingredients he was preparing. Your gaze lingered as your eyes traced his masculine, naked back, tattoos shouting at you. Your knees felt weak at the sight, your body reacting to him as if he were the alpha wolf.

You couldn’t help but bite your lip. He was swaying his hips to the rhythm of the song. Even from this point of view, you could tell he is in a very good mood. It seemed like he was glowing.

You leaned against the arch, contemplating whether to make your presence known or observe from the shadows. Before you could decide, he turned around, planning to cut the vegetables, his eyes locking onto yours immediately. Bunny smile plastered on his face, reaching his ears — a juxtaposition to how anxious you looked in his big shirt.

Quickly circling the kitchen island, he reached you in a matter of seconds. The heartthrob was beaming with happiness seeing you in his kitchen, in his shirt, barefoot, face raw, and all his. At least, that was his perspective after he finally got you where he wanted you.

“Baby!” He squeaked happily, pulling you by your wrists. The movement causes your petite frame to collide with his naked torso. Jungkook did not let you speak even if you wanted to, instead he pulled you even closer, pressing his lips to yours. You yelped, surprised by the unexpected collision. The vulnerability you felt in his presence only heightened as he claimed you, his happiness seemingly derived from having you exactly where he wanted—vulnerable and dependent on him.

The kiss lingered for a moment, and as Jungkook pulled back, his eyes locked onto yours again, gleaming with an unspoken mischief you could not decipher. He seemed to revel in the flustered state he had induced, and a cocky grin played on his lips.

“Morning, beautiful,” he whispered, his warm breath grazing your ear as he finally released your wrists, pecking your lips softly again. The shirt you wore clung to your form.

“It’s almost five pm.” You muttered back after you gave the digital clock on the stove a glance. He laughed it off, not replying.

“How do you like your steak?” he asked, his tone casual as if the passionate kiss hadn’t just occurred.

“M-medium rare,” you stammered, still processing the sudden turn of events. He chuckled, the sound resonating in the cosy kitchen as he came back to the stove to resume cooking, what you assumed is your dinner. Your stomach growled loudly when the delicious smell hit your nostrils, loudly. Jungkook even looked your way, encouraging you to take whatever you wanted from the fridge that was next to him, until dinner was ready.

You looked at the silver double-door fridge, and suddenly, your hunger vanished. Those were your magnets that were on your fridge just hours prior. He went through your boxes and unpacked them. The world was spinning, and your stomach was dangerously twisting.

He noticed the change in your expression, the playfulness in his eyes fading as he followed your gaze to the fridge.

“Something wrong, baby?” he inquired. You swallowed hard, attempting to mask the unease that threatened to bubble to the surface.

“No, nothing,” you replied, forcing a tight smile. His attention returned to the stove, the sizzling sounds and savoury aroma filling the kitchen. The clock on the stove continued its indifferent march towards evening. But your mind stopped.

“I-I think—” you stammered, it was hard for you to speak when there was an evident lump in your throat that wanted to emerge to the surface.

“Baby?” he raised a brow at you, letting everything he was doing to approach you again. You gulped down, trying to breathe it out.

“I think... I need—,” you tried, the words escaping in a breathy whisper. Jungkook’s expression shifted from curiosity to concern as he stepped closer. That got you even more anxious and a quick escape was a way you opted.

Your legs carried you back to the room where you knew a bathroom would be near. You heard him calling your name, but he did not run to get you. He must have thought that you’re trying to run again, but when he saw you going the way the master bedroom is, he did not push it.

You slumped right to your knees, emptying your already empty stomach into the toilet. Tears stringed from your eyes. Before you could calm or clean yourself the door creaked open, and Jungkook’s concerned voice seeped into the bathroom.

“Oh my god! Are you okay baby?” He hovered in the doorway, uncertainty flickering in his eyes. You didn’t have the strength to respond, only offering a weak nod as you continued to empty the contents of your stomach.

His footsteps approached, and you could feel him kneeling beside you, one hand tentatively rubbing your back.

“Easy, baby. Easy,” he murmured softly.

After a moment, the nausea subsided, and you leaned back against the cool porcelain, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. Jungkook remained by your side, a true concern readable in his eyes.

As you caught your breath, you couldn’t help but notice the familiar objects around the bathroom. Toothbrush, hairbrush, all your makeup and even your pyjamas, had found a place alongside Jungkook’s in the bathroom. He was blurring the lines between your lives.

Glancing at yourself in the mirror, you winced at the sight of prominent hickeys and bite marks adorning your neck. You caught Jungkook’s worrying gaze but did not pay attention to it longer than you needed to.

“When was the last time you ate properly, baby?” he asked, caressing the small of your back, kissing the top of your head. You touched the tender skin on your neck, a mix of shame and regret settling in the pit of your stomach.

You knew very well that this wasn’t a doing of the lack of nutrition within your body but it did stop you to think for a second. When was the last time you had a proper meal and not a cheap ramen noodles from a convenience store near your building? You did not recall, so you rather opted to shrug your shoulders and reach for your toothbrush that could have melted under your gaze at this point.

“Why don’t you freshen up, and I’m going to finish dinner.” He sighed and kissed your temple. You’ve let him. He has done worse. As he left the bathroom, you couldn’t shake the feeling of being exposed—physically, emotionally, and now even in your most private spaces. Your eyes lingered back on the assortment of makeup and personal items neatly arranged beside his.

Brushing your teeth never felt so foreign and unnatural. Your eyes darted around his room after you finished, and that’s when you noticed what you did not when you woke up —a closet, half-filled with your clothes. Neatly folded, hanged right beside his. Even your jewellery was sorted by the type of metal. Your shoes, your skirts, dresses, everything. He had seamlessly integrated your wardrobe into his, as if signalling an intention far beyond a temporary stay.

Then all your pictures scattered on the walls as you walked down the corridor back to the heartthrob who swayed you here. Feeling the unease building in your stomach again.

Jungkook stood by the table, a knowing smile playing on his lips as he watched you approach. His eyes flickered with a mixture of amusement and possession. This all seemed like a stage for a performance you hadn’t signed up for.

The steak, perfectly cooked to your liking, accompanied by a side of vegetables. The spread looked delectable, and your stomach rumbled again, reminding you that you hadn’t had a proper meal in days. The scent of the meal teased your senses.

As you picked at your food, a question lingered in the back of your mind—how had it come to this? Have you really had no choice but him? Was this worth the trouble? Perhaps.

Your parents would think of you as a failure if you returned home. and your pride did not allow you to pick up your old job and be a girl for everything. You worked in the fashion industry and you were willing to do anything to maintain it.

“Are you listening to me, baby?” Jungkook broke the stream of your consciousness, his voice soft yet insistent. You hummed in response but your ears could not pick precise words that left his mouth.

“There’s Grammys next week, do you have any design for the red carpet so we could match—”

“What about the job?” You interrupted him, setting your fork down, staring at him viciously.

“So the Grammys—” he tried to continue without replying to you but you were having none of it.

“So the job, Jungkook.” You said through clenched teeth one more time. You weren’t about to let him sidestep the conversation about your career.

He sighed, the corners of his mouth twitching with a momentary annoyance. The room crackled with tension, the unspoken power dynamics unravelling before you.

“You’ve been a very good girl so far—” he lifted the handkerchief he had on his lap and placed it on top of the table next to his glass of red wine.

“Why do you have to misbehave now.” His attempt to redirect the conversation towards your behaviour only fuelled your frustration.

“I’m not misbehaving, Jungkook,” you shot back, your voice sharp and unyielding. “I need to know about the job. I need to know that you’re actually doing something concrete to help me, not just playing puppeteer with my life.”

“There’s an opening at Givenchy, and Prada or Dior but—” your eyes were full of false hope.

“—until I can be sure you won’t leave me the second you get the new job. You won’t go to any interview.” He leaned back, a predatory gleam in his eyes, as if enjoying the power play.

Your mind raced, torn between ambition and self-respect. You had worked tirelessly to establish yourself, and the taste of success was within reach. Yet, the cost demanded by Jungkook was steep—an indefinite surrender of your autonomy.

“That’s not what we agreed upon—” You whined out, anxiety clutching your insights in tight grip.

“Oh but we did baby.” He answered swiftly, smiling sweetly.

“I—” you wanted to protest, but he was quick to dismiss any argument you wanted to come up with.

“I said I want you, and you agreed, baby. You can’t take it back.”

“What does that even mean?!” You whined out.

“That I won’t let you slip through my fingers again. You belong here with me, and you better learn your place or prepare for a farewell with the magnificent fashion world of yours.” The ultimatum echoed in your mind as his gaze was trying to make you submit. Jungkook’s possessiveness loomed over you, a suffocating force that sought to confine your wings.

“You can’t force me,” words slipped past your lips, a proclamation of your refusal to succumb to his dominance.

“You underestimate the lengths I’ll go to keep you, Y/N,” he retorted, his voice low and laced with a dangerous edge.

“You’re sick.” You spat out at him, standing up to leave when he grabbed you and held you tight. You were looking up at his face, seemingly angry with your words. His eyes darkened, a fleeting moment of anger crossing his features.

“Aren’t you a bit ungrateful, my love?” he seethed, his voice a low growl. The possessive tone sent shivers down your spine, but you refused to cower under his gaze.

“I’m providing you with shelter, food, money and most of all my love.”

“It’s sick, Jungkook. This isn’t love,” you shot back, your voice unwavering. He leaned in, his face inches from yours, his grip unyielding. He scoffed, a bitter smile playing on his lips.

“You’re testing my patience, Y/N. You’re mine,” he retorted quickly, not letting you go. You wanted to protest, to tell him to fuck off, and even worse things, but he was not finished.

“Think with your pretty little head, won’t you?—” you glared at him, defiance burning in your eyes.

“—you can live like a princess, you can have your dream position and on top of that a loving significant other — me.” The seconds felt like an eternity, the weight of his possessiveness pressing down on you.

“What is success for when you cannot share the joy with someone you love.” He whispered, a sinister undertone in his words. You had a feeling he’s not only talking about you. You had to think, and you had to think quickly.

“You’re asking me to give up my autonomy, Jungkook.” You shot back, your voice unwavering. He scoffed, the air heavy with tension.

“You’re too stubborn for your own good, Y/N. You need me—” He chuckled, a condescending tone lacing his voice.

“—what were you gonna do if you didn’t come to me? Hm? Your mami and papi who are disappointed in you or your fake friends who did not bat an eye to try and help you out?—” You turned your face away from him, not wanting to let his words affect you.

“—I helped you. I am here for you!” He shook you, still holding a tight grip on you.

“All I’m asking in return is you to give yourself to me.” With a defiant push, you broke free from his grasp, leaving him seething in frustration. Covering your face with your palms, you sobbed.

“Love and loyalty is not that big of a price when you think about it.”

“You promise?” you choked out through your tears. You were tired, exhausted to the bone, and this was taking a bigger toll on you than you would expect. You wanted to trick him and instead he tricked you. But you needed to play by his rules to win in the game he started. His eyes softened momentarily, a twisted form of concern flickering in his gaze.

“I promise, baby,” he murmured, his tone almost soothing. The fire has ceased for now. Or so you thought. Despite the fragile promise, you couldn’t shake off the feeling that you were dancing on the edge of a precipice, held by the strings he so skilfully pulled. But the stakes were high, and you couldn’t afford to falter. You had no shelter, almost no money and no one to turn to. For now. You promised yourself, this is temporary. You will find a way out of this arrangement.

You finished your dinner. He insisted. You stripped naked while he was drawing the bath. He again insisted. The penthouse, filled with music and the fragrance of expensive candles. You allowed yourself to be led, like a puppet, your exhaustion overshadowing your instincts. As you sat there in the hot water, vulnerable, he wiped away your tears.

The water lapping against your skin is like an ominous reminder of the depths you found yourself in. Jungkook’s hands traced patterns on your back.

Jungkook, seemingly attuned to your exhaustion, wiped away your tears, the gesture carrying a strange mixture of care and control.

“It’s all gonna feel better once you accept it.” Said he, right to your ear, sending shivers down your naked body. You pressed your legs to your chest to hide yourself, a futile attempt at preserving some semblance of privacy, even though he had seen it all.

“I cannot grasp why you would do this to me, Jungkook,” you sobbed, letting him hold you against his chest.

“I did it for us, baby.” His hands firmly gripped yours now, making them stop hugging your knees. The heartthrob wanted you to relax in his presence. A laughable request considering the circumstances that led you here.

“Stop being delusional. There is no us.” You finally let him move your hands only for you to grab the frame of the bathtub and attempt to pull yourself up and away from him. He did not fancy this attempt of yours, and he let you know that by grabbing a large portion of your hair, dragging you back.

Your body slammed to his naked torso with a loud slap caused by the wet skin on skin contact. It took your breath away for a good minute.

“You didn’t seem to argue about it earlier today when my cock was hitting all-the-right-places, making you squirt, hmm?” Said the raven haired man, still holding your hair in his fist. He did not intend to hurt you, no, it was not as painful as the whole humiliating scenery and the fact you could not break free of him. He’s putting an example of what will happen once you stop behaving again. Putting you in your place — that’s what he called it.

“Matter of fact, Imma show you again that there’s us baby, until you realise it yourself.”

Trying to wiggle out of his grasp, you whimpered every time you pulled your hair back to make you stay still. And as if he changed his mind, your body was pulled out of the warm water, letting your hair go, making you fall down to the bright rug on the floor of the bathroom. Soaking it wet you looked up to him towering over your shivering physique.

“It was about time for you to show me how you are grateful to be my good girl—” he stepped closer. You did not want to look at him, knowing well what he is talking about.

“Open up baby—” you shook your head, pulling away from him and his hard member that he was holding just inches away from your face. You felt it meet your cheek and immediately retrieved yourself again which made him even more frustrated. His cock was painfully hard, and you were not cooperating.

The tattooed hand in your hair pulled you right back, his eyes bore to yours with a hard stare, and you swear they got even darker. His other hand was clutching your jaw, harder and harder until you involuntarily opened your mouth wide enough.

Taking the chance right away, he slipped his thick and hard manhood into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat. He hissed at how your teeth slightly scraped his dick. You choked on it, but he was unfazed by it, continuing to thrust into your throat, making tears fall down your cheeks.

“I knew you could be my good girl.” He groaned, praising you with each of his hard thrusts into your mouth. Your breathing was shallow, and you tried to get as much air as you could. He was moaning loudly, the wet sounds of his cock slipping in and out of your mouth, covered by your saliva made him even more aroused and hungry for you.

“You just need a bit of a re-education.” He was getting lost in the pleasure your mouth was providing him, and you were deprived of the air you needed. Your hand hit his pelvis when you thought you’re going to pass out soon.

“Just a moment more, baby. I know you can take it.” He said through gritted teeth. Jungkook was panting loudly, mixing it with loud moans of your name.

“Fuck, Y/N. You’re my heaven.” Your nails were scratching his abdomen, trying to break free, but his hold was too strong. You were drooling all over his cock, and your hand started to spin from the lack of oxygen and how quickly your head was bobbing.

He was getting dangerously close and his sloppy movements reflected that. He managed to pull one last thrust before he was cumming down your throat. He was letting his dick soften, pressed on your tongue while the hot semen was springing out of his tip.

“Swallow.”

The night wore on, shadows dancing on the walls as you lay there, pressed to his chest, his hand limply laying on your hip, contemplating the surreal turn you took.

If anything arose in you during the intercourse you wish you would wipe out of your mind, it was a determination to break free from the suffocating grasp of the penthouse.

Jungkook laid beside you, his breathing steady, a façade of tranquillity painted on his features. As he drifted into a seemingly serene slumber, you waited for the right moment to seize the opportunity.

When you were certain he was deeply asleep, you carefully extricated yourself from his embrace, a shiver running down your spine as you tiptoed through the room.

The moon cast a pale glow through the sheer curtains, guiding your movements as you tiptoed across the room. Your hand grasped the cold doorknob, the soft creaking of the door threatened to betray your escape. Your body frozen in time, your pupils shaking, fearing what happens if he wakes up. You wait a minute to make sure he is not coming to drag you back before you open the door in one swift movement.

You rethought the tasks you listed in your plan. Find the portfolio and get the fuck out as quick as possible. Everything else is replaceable for you. The mindset that the portfolio is the only key to all your problems, remained.

The adrenaline surged through your veins, the pulse of your heart echoing in the quiet hallway you walked through to get to the front of the penthouse.

He never took you upstairs, therefore you assumed that’s where he must’ve hidden it.

You approached the staircase, the carpet soft beneath your feet. The air seemed to grow heavier with every ascending step. The possibility of him waking up was not zero.

As you reached the upper level, you noticed the subtle shift in the ambiance. The hallway, adorned with pieces of art that whispered tales of luxury, and all his awards he won during his career, displayed to show his success. You passed several open doors, a home recording studio in one of them, be ridden of what you were looking for.

The hallway led you towards a set of double doors. That must be it. The doors creaked open, your gaze scanning for any sign of your portfolio. Your eyes flickering between the meticulously arranged accolades and the sprawling desk. He must be using this room as his office.

The seconds stretched into minutes, the urgency escalating with each passing heartbeat. You began with the drawers of the glass table, trying to be as quiet as possible. You cannot afford to cause commotion.

Anxiety wrapped around you, a vice tightening with every passing moment. You went through the library too, looked under every surface, you could not find it.

With a deep breath, you steadied yourself. There must be another place he could have hidden it. Your eyes fell upon the stack of papers, leaning your head to the side you examined the tabloid underneath with your face on it.

You fished it out in mere seconds, eyeing it unbelievably. If you were on the cover of a tabloid you would for sure know that. But you were not aware that your face appeared in Star magazine, right beside Jungkook. “Jungkook’s Mysterious Muse Revealed!” the headline screamed at you.

It was not only you after all. Society has convinced Jungkook that you two are sort of an item. A clandestine affair, a narrative spun by the society, linking your name with Jungkook’s in a tale of intrigue.

It was dated right when you started working on Klein’s campaign, back in April. It is almost the end of November now, and this is the first time you’re seeing this. You couldn’t fathom how deeply the web had been woven around you. The urgency of the situation intensified, and you combed through every conceivable hiding spot.

A sudden noise from downstairs snapped your attention. Fear gripped you, and your heart raced. Did he wake up? The urgency of the situation intensified, and you felt the weight of the clock ticking against you.

You sobbed and when you went to rub your eyes, they fell upon the other room diagonally from the one you were searching now. The doors were slightly ajar and you could see soft shades of colours within. In a last-ditch effort you marched towards it.

But ever stepping inside you regretted. The whole scenery that was revealed once you opened the door swiftly caught your breath in your throat.

The soft shades of colours painted a haunting picture—a baby room, unfinished and untouched by time. The sight startled you, sending a shiver down your spine. This can’t be.

“No..” You whispered to yourself, panicking. Your hands found their place in your hair. He is one delusional man. There is no other explanation, he is sick in the head if he thinks he is going to baby trap you.

A sense of dread overwhelmed you, and in your shock, you stumbled over something on the floor, hitting your head in the process. You groaned from the pain, forgetting that this commotion must have been loud enough for Jungkook to wake up.

As you rolled to the side, your eyes widened in disbelief. The portfolio was taped to the bottom of a cabinet. Without a second thought, you ripped it free, the sound echoing in the quiet room.

The rain outside intensified, a symphony of droplets against the windows. With the portfolio clutched in your hands, you ran down the stairs, right to the front door you prayed would not be locked. Would he be that careless? Yes. The degree of his mental instability was enough for him to believe that you are his and you would not think of running. He cut off every single option you had.

First, by making sure that your former employer would get to know you’re planning to leave the brand, enough for them to let you go. Second, he successfully obtained your portfolio that you were stupid enough to not make a copy of, which resulted in not meeting the deadline with Guess and losing that job opportunity too.

Third, he did not expect you to not stay the first you went to his penthouse but he was determined to go to extremes. So, every single fashion brand that had department stores in New York and in the rest of the world, backlisted you. No job application you sent, assistant buyer, a visibly lower position to what you had at Klein, would be turned down.

Fourth, make sure your landlord has already a tenant replacing you, ready to pay double for your apartment if they can move in as soon as possible.

That you’re alienated from your parents played his cards right and he never wished anything bad upon someone else, but how he thanked God that your friends have either too small apartments for another person to live in or they were struggling even more than you were. But lucky for you. He was right there, waiting for your call.

The handle felt too cold in your hand once you pushed the front door open merging the distance to the elevators, you were madly pushing the down button.

The seconds felt like an eternity as you waited for the elevator. Your breaths came in short, erratic bursts, mirroring the frenetic pace of your heart. Quickly stepping inside the metal box you heard it.

“Y/N?!” Your heart skipped a beat at the sound of his voice. His eyes momentarily locked with yours. You were clutching your portfolio to your chest, the other hand pressing the close button, praying it will close faster.

He must have heard you running down the stairs, or perhaps when you tripped and fell. You even forgot that you’ve hurt yourself. The adrenaline was overshadowing the pain.

“Come back right now!” He was mad, that much you could tell.

With the last determined push, you closed the door on him, severing the visual link between you. Letting out a relieving breath, you knew that this is far from being over. The elevator descended, carrying you away from the penthouse.

He cannot make it all the way down in time before you’ll disappear from the area. You prayed, he would not.

The lobby welcomed you as the doors opened, the room blurred as you stormed towards the exit, your heart pounding in rhythm with the rain. You burst into the rain-soaked night. Clutching the book tightly, a surge of triumph coursed through your veins.

The cold drops pelted against your skin. The relentless downpour soaking your clothes and hair. Running towards the street, you waved at the cars, hoping a taxi would stop.

It took a minute for some yellow car to appear at the curb, not wasting time, you ran towards it.

A smile appeared on your face after a long time. You did not know where you’re going, nor what you’re going to do next but Jungkook was never supposed to be your option and now you got the chance to choose differently or not? This is your second chance, and you’re willing to take it.

Your hand touched the handle of the yellow vehicle, opening the door and planning to leap inside as quickly as possible.

A strong tattooed hand closed abruptly. You gulped down an enormous lump in your throat, almost not breathing. How could this happen? It was mere minutes. Did he run the stairs? Did you take too long to catch a cab? Should you just run as far as possible?

Every single thing you could have done differently would not change the outcome it seems. And every single thing worked out in his favour, again.

His palm pressed on the taxi door firm, you could not open it anymore nor he would let you hop in the front seat. Your heart pounded in your chest, the tension and fear to face him was killing you. The portfolio now felt like a burden, if you make peace with losing it and your career, would you avoid this?

You could feel his eyes burning holes to the back of your head.

“I will not go back.” You said, voice resolute, but inside you were shaking. You could feel his hot breath on your cold skin, similarly you could feel his body pressing to your back. Once he reached your ear, you felt his lips mere inches from it, whispering.

“You will.”

I N T E R L O G U E

Jungkook settled into the plush leather chair after he finished carefully unpacking all your belongings, believing he is helping you to settle down. His fingers deftly dialled his mother’s number. As the phone rang, he gazed out over the city lights sprawling beneath him, a realm he had conquered with ruthless determination.

His new song, obviously written about you, was an enormous hit, granting him another Grammy nomination. But what was his success for when he did not have his love to share it with?

He smiled to himself, he got you. After long months of chasing you, then giving you the space you needed to realise he is your best shot in this world, you’re finally where you belong. Next to him.

The familiar voice of his mother greeted him, warm and comforting.

“Eomma—” Jungkook said, his tone affectionate.

“Jungkook, dear! How is my baby?” His mother’s voice held a blend of joy and concern.

“I’m doing well, Eomma. I have some news to share,” he said, his eyes glancing toward the bedroom where Y/N lay, unaware of the conversation taking place.

“Oh? Do tell,” his mother replied, anticipation evident in her voice. Jungkook leaned back, a subtle smile playing on his lips.

“Y/N moved in.” His mother’s delight was palpable through the phone. Jungkook let her know the very moment he stepped into your office that he is very much interested in you. That he met the special one he wants to grow old with.

As he spoke, he subtly weaved a narrative of love and destiny, carefully crafting the tale of their supposed connection. His mother listened attentively, hanging onto every word.

“Are you going to propose over Christmas like you wanted, Kookie?” His mother gasped with excitement. Jungkook glanced at the bedroom once more, satisfaction settling within him. The diamond ring well hidden deep inside of the closet. But that’s given and final in his mind, there’s something more he selfishly wants. Not only will it make sure you won’t be able to leave him any more, it will give you reason to grow to love him back. After all, he would be the only person who you can grow old with.

“We’re trying for a baby, Eomma.”

tag list: @pamzn - @jaedayy - @mylyus-blog - @vanillacupcakefrosting - @jjeonjjk7 - @darkuni63 - @jeonaraathedreamer - @urlovelily - @kissyfacekoo - @looneybleus - @btspurplesky - @seokseokjinkim - @doulcha - @sexytholland - @minyngr - @mizuumii @ali99eel - @loomipee @jkslvsnella - @tearykth - @iveivory - @lachimolalajeon - @mother2monsters

Don't be a silent reader, let's be friends chummers! ♥

lots of love, 𝖕𝖊𝖓𝖓𝖞𝖊𝖑𝖑𝖊

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dr3c0mix · 5 months

Text

My Lovely Melody

Yandere!Rockstar x GN!Reader

CW: yandere is a playboy before he meets reader, suggestive (creepy) thoughts, minor obsessive behaviour

🎸 Axel's been in many relationships with both men and women alike, but all of his little flings felt nothing more than that, just flings.

🎸 And he was content with it, I mean being a famous rockstar meant lots of people wanting a chance with you and he indulged in that fact.

🎸 He could sleep with whoever he wanted, whenever he wanted, and he wouldn't have to deal with the commitment that comes with dating or any of that messy stuff.

🎸 So why the hell can't stop thinking about you ?!?!?!!

🎸 He scratched his head trying to make sense of it, his messy hair getting even more ruffled as he tries to get the image of your smile out of his head.

🎸 You were in a miscellaneous store full of alt clothing, trinkets and various other stuff when he walked in with his bandmates.

🎸 It was fairly normal when he came in the store. It was dim with some random punk song playing faintly in the background. His friends started exploring, looking at the graphic t-shirts and mugs shaped like skulls and the like.

🎸 He got a bit bored and wandered to the other side of the store. It had posters, candles and..who's that?

🎸 There you were, staring longingly at a plush toy sitting on one of the shelves, just standing there.

🎸 He didn't think much of it, probably just some person baked out of their mind. "Hey buddy, you doin' good?"

🎸 You snap out of your gaze and look at the big hulking man in front of you. You stutter out an apology and explain your little misfortune.

🎸 "So you want this..toy...but you can't afford it..?" He raises a brow at you as you nod, making him chuckle.

🎸 He thought for a moment, looking at the stuffed creature, well it wouldn't hurt to buy it for you, he's pretty well off from all the gigs and concerts he's been in so...

🎸 "How 'bout I buy this thing for ya then? But you owe me~" He winks, thinking he could score some quick sex for being such a 'gentleman'

🎸 But no, instead of a blush or a knowing smirk, you just looked at him with the widest, most innocent eyes he's ever seen, you were practically shaking with joy as he said it.

🎸 You thanked him profusely before listing off things you could do in return, treating him to some food, buying something for him in return, plain paying him back..he was a bit surprised.

🎸 "O-oh...uhm that was a joke heheh, y-you don't have to do all that babe..." He blushes.

🎸 The two of you head to the cashier, his friends spying from behind the aisles as his gaze is locked on the little ball of cuteness beside him.

🎸 Seriously? Did you even know who he was? This has never happened before...most of the time, he would pay for someone's drink or something and they'd be on his dick in seconds, but you, you were so..different...it felt nice..

🎸 You didn't even get it in a bag, you immediately took the plush after it was paid and hugged it close.

🎸 so cute so cute so cute so cute so cute!!!

🎸 "Hey uh..so me and my buds are in a band and uhm..wanna maybe..watch our next gig?" He asks nervously, he's never been so shy towards anyone!!

🎸 You agree, thinking it's the least you could do for what he did for you.

🎸 You take out your phone, Axel can't help but grin at the case, it was cute, like you~..

🎸 "Here's my number if..you need it.." You smile at him, that smile..that damn cute smile...you had his heart wrapped around your finger at this point.

🎸 "Th-thanks sugar..I'll see you there.." He smiles back as you part ways, he heads back to his friends who were bombarding him with questions as he watches you skip out of the store with your new little soft friend.

🎸 That night, he was getting ready for the show when he got a message notification and sees that you sent a picture of the show from one of the seats with some text "Good luck out there!"

🎸 His face was on fire as he realized you were there, he peeks out in the crowd and there you were, your little plush toy in tow.

🎸 You look so out of place from the people in spiky jewelry and dark outfits, you were just in a hoodie and baggy pants, albeit the hoodie had a MCR design on it, but you can tell it was very soft compared to the rest of the audience.

🎸 Finally it was time for the show to begin and it was the most passionate he's been in a while, it seemed as if the words he was singing were dedicated to you and you alone.

🎸 The little glances at you made you giddy, like a friend seeing their bestie perform, you were cheering excitedly for him, not in a fangirly way, but one of genuine support and amazement.

🎸 After the performance, Axel tried finding you, but the crowd was too big and he assumed you must have left already.

🎸 Wait..why is he being so buddy buddy with you? You just met today! It's not like you two were best friends or anything!

🎸 He tried dismissing the thought of you, tried distracting himself by flirting with other people, but he could only think about you, and making you smile like that again..

🎸 no no no! get out of my head!

🎸 Maybe a little fling can ease his mind?

🎸 Even on his bed with some random girl after show, he can still think of you.

🎸 Would your skin be as soft? or maybe softer? How would your hair smell? He bets your moans would sound delicious..

🎸 shit FUCK!!

🎸 Even after his one night stand, he kept thinking of you

🎸 He stares at your messages, you sent a lot of pictures of your plush toy doing goofy things to him, so cute..so silly...he can't help but smile.

🎸 He decides to look you up on social media and..

🎸 Wait a minute...you make music too?

yep this was a bit short but idk man i love making you guys suffer <3 stay tuned for part 2 (i am actually out of ideas guys please request me please please ple-)

#yandere #yandere x reader #male yandere #oc yandere #yandere x gn reader #yandere oc #yandere male #tw yandere #yandere x male reader #x reader #rockstar x reader #x gn reader #gn reader #oc x reader #yandere x you #opossumdoodles

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theosbaby · 3 months

Text

helping hand

lorenzo berkshire x fem!reader

masterlist

summary; the guys find out that enzo is still a virgin and they keep bothering him about it, so he asks for your help.

warnings; friends to lovers, use of y/n (just once i think), loss of virginity, SMUT, virgin!lorenzo, sub!lorenzo, dom!reader, mutual masturbation, p in v, lots of praising, neck grabbing, hair pulling, slight orgasm denial, unprotected sex.

author's note; english isn't my first language, so you might find mistakes. yes, i have read filthy and i know lorenzo isn't innocent at all, but i wanted to portray him like that for this one, hope you like it!

lorenzo was your best friend, he had been since you both were a couple of tweens and met at the hogwarts express on your first year. you remembered that day as if it had been yesterday. he had bumped into you, which made you drop your chocolate frog to the ground, after that, he immediately apologized and bought you the whole honeydukes trolley as an apology; at that moment, you swore to yourself you would never let him go.

and seven years later, he was the most important person in your life.

as every friday night, lorenzo and you were having a sleepover in your dormroom. that night, pansy, your roommate, was out on a date with some dude and you had the room all to yourselves. you were lying in your bed, enzo next to you. a film was playing, but you were having trouble to focus on it since enzo kept moving; he looked uneasy, which was really rare to be honest, lorenzo was the calmest guy in the whole wizarding world.

you couldn't possibly imagine what was going on in that pretty head of his.

truth is, the week before, the rest of the guys had discovered that enzo was still a virgin and they had been teasing him about it nonstop since then, which had already started to seriously bother him. at first, maybe you could say it was funny, but after eight days of constant jokes, it was not funny anymore.

you sighed, finally deciding to ask him what was going through his mind.

"lorenzo," you called him, using his full name, which you rarely did, "is something wrong? you seem off today..."

enzo looked away, clearly trying to avoid your eyes, and you frowned; that was the confirmation you needed to know that something was not fine, he never averted your gaze like that.

"nothing, just... dealing with some stress." he answered, dodging the subject. when he saw your unpleased look, he added, "it's not a big deal, seriously. don't worry about it."

"cmon, enzo..." you said, reaching to cup his cheek and force him to look at you, "i know you like the palm of my hand and i know something's bothering you."

you smiled reassuringly at him, pausing the film to focus fully on the conversation, then you added, "you can tell me anything, you know that, right?"

enzo's cheeks blushed slightly, his eyes darting back and forth as he looked at you, clearly hesitating whether he should tell you or not.

"you wouldn't... you wouldn't think any less of me, would you?" he asked and you saw a hint of vulnerability in his light brown irises.

you frowned as you looked at him, caressing his cheek softly; his attitude was making you really worried.

"of course not, enzo... you're my best friend," you told him with a soft and sweet voice, trying to get him to open to you.

he nodded slowly, leaning into your touch; he found comfort in your presence, it had always been that way. taking a deep breath, enzo finally confessed.

"well... it's just that... the guys found out i'm still a virgin and they've been teasing me about it all week." as he talked, his voice was barely above a whisper.

"that's it?" you asked, chuckling as your worried expression visibly softened. "they're a bunch of idiots... just ignore them, enzo," you reassured him, your hand moving up to stroke his soft hair.

enzo managed to let out a small laugh, his expression softening at your comment too.

"yeah, i know..." he muttered, his eyes fixed in yours as he thought of his next words, "but it's hard not to let it get to me when they treat me like some sort of joke."

"don't say that, enzo..." you replicated, your brow furrowed as you heard his words. "there's nothing wrong with being a virgin."

he nodded, agreeing with you, while his eyes drifted back to the paused movie on the screen. despite your words, he still seemed a bit troubled. you were definitely going to beat the guys up the next time you saw them for making enzo feel so bad about something completely normal and natural.

"i know that... i can't help but feel self-conscious about it though," he said, then elaborated, "I mean, everyone else seems to be... well, you know."

"experienced?" you asked, finishing his sentence.

you grabbed his hand, entwining your fingers with his; you wanted to make him feel better. he looked down at your intertwined fingers and sighed softly.

"yeah... experienced." he nodded while he talked. "it's not like i haven't tried to lose my virginity or anything; it's just never been the right time or person, i guess."

you gave his hand a gentle squeeze when you heard his words, smiling at how sweet he was. enzo was simply the perfect guy, the perfect friend, and you were sure someday he'd be the perfect boyfriend.

"you'll get there eventually, trust me," you chuckled and rested your head on his shoulder. "just don't overthink it, okay?"

lorenzo smiled back, clearly more relaxed now that had confided in you. his fingers tightened slightly around yours as he rested his head on top of yours.

"i know, thanks for listening, darling."

"always, enzo." you kissed his cheek briefly. "and if they bother you again about it, just let me know, I'll gladly hit them," you added, laughing.

"you would do that for me?" he looked at you, his expressive eyes sparkling in the dim light of the room.

"i'd do anything for you," you answered honestly, smiling warmly at him.

it was the truest thing you had ever told him; there wasn't a single thing you wouldn't sacrifice for him. he was just worth it. your words seemed to awake something in him, you could almost see the gears in his head spinning as he stared at you intently.

"really? anything?" his voice deepened a bit, his eyes still locked onto yours. "can I ask you something then?"

"of course silly, anything," you replied, letting out a nervous laugh as his intense gaze made you feel butterflies in your belly.

"would you..." he swallowed nervously, taking a deep breath before continuing. "would you maybe... want to be my first?"

your breath hitched when you heard his proposal, your heart started racing in your chest. for a second, you thought that you could be dreaming, so you pinched yourself; the pain you felt confirmed that your were, in fact, not sleeping.

"enzo, are you sure about that?" you questioned, unsure if he was saying it seriously or not. "we've just talked about that, there's nothing wrong with being a virgin," you repeated.

"i know, darling." he bite his lower lip, looking down at the floor for a moment before meeting your eyes again. "but I can't stop thinking about it... and I'd really like it to be with you."

"really?" you gasped in surprise, nipping at your bottom lip to try and hide the smirk that tugged at the corners of your mouth.

you loved enzo; not the kind of love you feel for a brother, though, you were in love with him, and you had tried to convince yourself otherwise for a long time, because you thought your feelings weren't reciprocated, but now... he was in front of you, asking you to be his first, and you weren't sure if you'd be able to ignore your feelings anymore.

"you aren't just doing it out of social pressure?"

you wanted to make sure he was not feeling pressured to do it; you wanted him to do it only if he finally felt ready to take that step.

"no, i mean it," he said, blushing shyly. "i really want it to be with you, y/n. you're so beautiful, and kind, and smart. i've had a crush on you for years."

his admission made your heart skip a beat; you thought you were going to faint right there and then. your thoughts were all over the place, your mind racing as you looked at him, but there was just one thing that you knew for sure; you were dying to kiss him... so you did.

"then, i guess it can be arranged," you whispered, reaching to cup his face and pull him into a kiss, one that was very sweet at first.

enzo's eyes fluttered shut as he leaned into the kiss, his hands moving to rest on your hips. he gasped softly against your lips, his heart racing wildly. you took control of the kiss as you tangled your fingers in his hair and tug at it, slipping your tongue in his mouth; the innocent kiss soon turning into a full make out session.

his hands moved slowly but surely down to the small of your back, gently pressing against your lower back and pulling you even closer to him. you slightly moaned into the kiss, unable to get enough of the taste of his soft lips.

"you taste so good, enzo," you muttered between kisses, not pulling back at any moment.

your hand moved down his neck, gripping at it, which made enzo gasp softly, his fingers digging into your waist as his tongue became bolder in your mouth. he could feel himself getting hard, the rush of blood making him dizzy.

he was practically on top of you at that point, so you pushed him gently until he was sitting on the bed, back against the headboard and you straddled his lap, leaning in to resume the kissing. quickly, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you as close a he possibly could. one of his hands moved to the hem of your shirt, pushing it upwards slowly; the gentle caress of his fingertips on your skin gave you goosebumps.

"you want me to take this off, baby?" you asked, breaking the kiss, as you started toying with the hem of your top.

lorenzo looked at you with hooded eyes, licking his lips slightly. "yes, please… take it off."

you smirked, grabbing the hem of your top and pulling it off your body. since you were not wearing a bra, you breasts were now completely exposed under his intense gaze. his eyes darkened as he saw your boobs for the first time; they were perfect, just like the rest of you.

"have you ever touched a girl, enzo?" you questioned, a sweet tone to your voice.

he swallowed hard, his hands aching to touch you, and answered, "no, I haven't."

"don't be shy, baby," you whispered with a smile, grabbing his hands to encourage him to cup your breasts, squeezing them lightly. "like this."

enzo stared at your face closely, his eyes filled with lust as he mimicked your action, his hands squeezing both your boobs gently. his thumbs brushed against your little nipples, causing them to harden instantly.

"you're beautiful," he breathed out, completely stunned at your beauty.

you gasped slightly, your cheeks flushing as a heat wave washed over your body; your panties growing wetter by the second. the way he touched you, as if he was worshipping your body, was a huge turn on.

"thank you, baby," you muttered, squirming in his lap.

enzo moaned softly as he felt your body grinding against his hard length. he kissed along your jawline and down your neck, nipping softly as he went. you let out a cute whimper, your eyes fluttering shut when you felt his tongue lapping at one of your hard nipples and you reached up to tangle your fingers in his soft hair, caressing it tenderly; he groaned against your skin as he began to suck at the hard nub gently.

his hand moved down between your legs and he slipped his fingers underneath the fabric of your shorts and panties; you felt his digits rubbing hesitantly over your pussy, as if he didn't know what to do with them next.

"enzo," you gasped at his action, tugging at his hair tenderly. "you have never done that before, right?" you chuckled as you you caressed his face.

lorenzo blushed slightly and shook his head slowly, still teasing your sensitive skin with his fingers. his eyes locked onto yours as he whispered back, "no... i haven't."

"let me show you how to do it properly, yeah?" you said with a sweet voice, grabbing his hand to pull it out of your panties.

then, you got off his lap, sitting next to him as you pushed your shorts and underwear down your legs, finally exposing your pussy. his breath hitched in his throat as he saw you completely bare for the first time. he reached out tentatively, tracing a finger along your upper thigh.

your hand moved down to cup your pussy, your fingers gently parting your slick folds to rub your swollen clit in circles, teaching him how you liked it; you couldn't help but gasp at the touch.

"just like this, see?" you asked, looking at him with glazed eyes.

enzo's eyes darkened as he watched you touch yourself; you looked so vulnerable and exposed, yet so sexy. when you withdrew your hand, he replaced your fingers with his, mirroring your movements as he started rubbing your clit in small circles.

"fuck yeah, like that..." you muttered, your breathing coming out in sharp pants as your hips bucked forward. "doing so good for me, enzo," you praised.

he groaned at your praise as he watched you writhing at his touch. his dick was rock hard in his pants and he wished more than anything that he could slide it into your tight pussy right away.

you reached next to you to push his sweatpants down his thighs, just enough to free his erection. he arched his back slightly to help you and his hard cock sprung free, standing tall against his flat stomach. you bit your lower lip, your mouth watering when you saw his dick; he was really big.

"can i touch you, baby?" you asked, your hand absent-mindedly tracing patterns over his abs.

enzo's breath hitched at your touch. his abs flexed slightly under your fingertips as he nodded eagerly. when he gave you his permission, you grabbed his length in your hand gently, pumping it slowly at first.

he groaned at your touch, leaning back against the headboard as you began to stroke his cock, his fingers still rubbing your soaked pussy. his eyes were half-closed as he watched you move your hand up and down.

"that feels so good, darling," he muttered.

you moaned in response when his digits picked up speed, pressing down your swollen clit and making you squirm in pleasure. your chest raised and fell quickly as you gasped for air.

he smirked as he felt your body respond to his touch, leaning forward to capture your lips in a passionate kiss that you returned instantly. his tongue slipped inside your mouth as his hand slid down your slit, searching for your entrance; he pushed two fingers inside of you, feeling your wetness coat his digits as he began to thrust them in and out.

you whined, involuntarily breaking the contact between your lips, and your face scrunched in pleasure. your hand moved faster as it stroke his cock, your thumb teasing his tip, that was leaking precum.

he groaned, his mouth finding your neck. his free hand slid up to cup your breast, massaging it gently as he continued to finger fuck you. he was already close to cumming, all the new sensations overwhelming him, but he wanted to make it last as long as possible.

"enzo, fuck," you cursed, your pussy tightening around his fingers when you felt the coil in your belly about to snap. "such a good boy... making me feel so good."

you gasped, your pumps becoming sloppier as you approached your orgasm. enzo's breath hitched at your praising words, hips bucking against your hand, unable to contain himself any longer.

"please, love... let me inside you," he begged between breathy moans, his fingers thrusting in and out of you harder.

"how do you want me, baby?" you asked in a whisper, your lips brushing his as you spoke.

enzo nipped at his lower lip, he didn't even have to think his answer. "i want you to ride me," he muttered as he looked into your eyes, his own glazed with lust.

you gasped when he withdrew his fingers from your pussy, a smirk tugging at your lips as you said, "whatever you want, baby."

you released his cock from your grasp to climb onto his lap. enzo's breath caught in his throat when you straddled him, the sight of your wet pussy just inches from his cock making him shudder with anticipation; he almost came on the spot. his hands found purchase on your hips, pulling you closer to him.

you grabbed his cock and placed the tip against your entrance, slowly lowering yourself onto it. you couldn't help but moan as you took his big cock inside you. once he was fully seated within your pussy, you stood still for a moment to get used to the new intrusion.

"how does that feel, my pretty boy?" you asked, leaning in to nuzzle his neck affectionately.

he groaned, his hands moving to cup your ass as he began to instinctively thrust up into you. it felt so perfect, so right, like every inch of him belonged inside you.

"it feels so good," he whispered in your ear, his breathing ragged.

"yeah... it does," you agreed, starting to ride him slowly at first; his cock reached all the right spots inside you so easily. "it's like your dick was fucking made for me, enzo," you moan, your breathing growing uneven.

he shuddered as he bucked up into you, his fingers digging into your ass so hard that you were sure he would leave bruises. you were so fucking tight, and he was so hard, the friction almost too much for him to handle.

you smirked as you saw him so helpless underneath your body while you rode him. you reached to tug at his hair, tilting his head back to suck at his neck, leaving some hickeys, which made him moan.

"you like being deep inside my tight pussy, enzo?" you teased him.

your boobs bounced as you jumped on his cock; that sight only adding to his pleasure. you placed your hands on his chest to support yourself, seeing his eyes roll back in his head as he felt you tighten around him; he thrust up into you, hitting that perfect spot again and again.

"yeah... so fucking much," he answered, panting heavily.

"such a naughty boy..." you cooed, a smug grin tugging at the corners of your lips. "but i love it."

you looked closely at him; he was completely flustered, cheeks flushed and hair sticking to his sweaty forehead.

"you look so fucking pretty underneath me, enzo," you complimented him

he groaned, sliding one hand down to rub against your clit roughly, the other one still holding onto your ass.

"don't stop, please." he breathed out, his hips lifting up to meet every downward thrust of yours.

"you close, pretty boy?" you asked him, watching his face attentively as he nodded in response. "you gonna be a good boy and hold it in for me, yeah?" you ordered with a soft voice.

he whimpered, biting his lip harshly. his cock throbbed inside you, aching for release, but his thumb did not stop rubbing circles on your clit; the sensation of his dick pounding into you together with the stimulation on your clit making you weak on the knees.

"yes... I'll be good for you."

"that's my boy," you praised him, struggling to keep up the pace while riding him since your legs had started shaking from the pleasure. "you gonna make me cum, baby." you breathed out, moaning loudly.

you hand had a conscience of its own and moved up to grasp at his neck, applying light pressure on it. enzo's eyes fluttered shut at the sensation, your grip limiting his air flow very slightly, but enough to make it pleasurable.

"oh fuck! i'm cumming," he moaned, gritting his teeth.

"hold it," you commanded, your voice harder that time. "you won't cum until i do."

he moaned in frustration, shaking his head as his hips jerked up into you. "please... i can't."

"just a minute, baby, i'm almost there," you promised, whimpering while your pussy started clenching around his cock as your orgasm built up.

you kept riding him until you finally fell over the edge, letting out a long string of soft moans and whimpers while your whole body shook. you leaned into his body, your hands gripping at his skin as pleasure washed over you.

"oh gods, enzo," you moaned, "you can cum now, baby."

as soon as you gave him permission, he came with a loud whimper, almost a cry, shooting his thick cum inside you in long spurts, your pussy milking his cock as both of your rode out your highs, holding onto each other tightly.

he panted, leaning his forehead against yours, his heartbeat slowing down as he tried to catch his breath.

"that was amazing."

"pretty good for a first time, huh?" you chuckled, out of breath too, while caressing his back and shoulders; your bodies were completely pressed together.

"fuck yeah... let's do it again," he laughed, grabbing your hips to push you onto the mattress; your body bounced slightly.

"enzo!" you giggled, but your playful laugh soon turned into a moan when your best friend buried his head between your legs.

you had definitely created a monster... you weren't complaining, though.

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yuellii · 7 months

Text

PLEASE ( DON’T ) BE MY WINGWOMAN !

𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐇 his female best friend tries to help him win your love, but knowing her, it all goes wrong

feat. lyney, neuvillette, ayato ( separate )

note. gn reader, features : lynette, furina, ayaka. hello i am officially back and also officially 21 !! :]

LYNEY.

“Oh, woe is me! Please assist, my dearest sister!” The magician sat sprawled atop the couch quite dramatically, backhand over his forehead feigning feverish feelings. “Whatever shall I do when the God of Romance is plotting against a hopeless romantic, such as I?”

“What’s wrong this time?” By contrast, his sister’s voice proved no fluctuations, tone lacking the honeyed sound he needed for sympathy. Instead of catering to his sorrows, she instead sipped lightly at her tea, for it was far more relaxing than her brother’s ‘woes.’

Still, Lyney sighed. “The love of my life—my soulmate!” he cried out. “How should I win the affections of my other half, when I can’t even grasp the scale of romantic favor?”

“Desserts.”

Lyney sat up. “I beg your pardon?”

“Give desserts,” Lynette shrugged. “Everyone likes desserts.” This reasoning totally made the most sense to her.

She watched as Lyney started at her blankly for just a moment, and then he inhaled sharply. “So I should… use desserts as my gift…” With each passing word, Lynette watched as a staggering excitement in his voice grew tenfold. “And then, if I keep giving their favorite treats”—Lyney gasped—“they’ll start to associate the sweetness with me! Oh, Lynette, you’re a genius!”

Lynette blinked at him. That strategy explanation was not what she said at all, but whatever. Not her problem.

But when Lyney dragged her by the hand to go purchase desserts, and then forced her to sit down at the cafe just to watch him gift treats to you, then maybe it was her problem.

“A very special dessert!” he presented, and Lynette sat with disinterest as she watched your eyes light up at his cheap old appearance trick. “For a very special person.” And now came her own eye roll—caused by the way Lyney giggled to himself at the end of his own sentence.

Maybe it was charming ( but personally Lynette didn’t see the appeal ), because there was a sparkle that appeared in your eyes in admiration of him. And suddenly, Lynette didn’t understand why he was trying to win your love at all, because it’s clear to her that he’s already won it.

“This is for me?” she heard you say. “This is actually my favorite! Oh, Lyney, you shouldn’t have!”

“Don’t even worry,” she watched Lyney wave off. “It was given to me for free at the shop”—Huh?—“and I have no space for it”—What was he…?—“so I thought you might like it!”

Lynette blinked to herself. Then she blinked to herself again. And then one more time, and now Lyney was back to her spot with you no longer in sight. “How did I do?” Lyney excitedly questioned her. “A good start, right? Step one of your idea to get my crush to become obsessed with me is complete!”

Okay first of all, that was literally not her idea, but maybe she should’ve communicated it better. And second, “Why did you lie? That dessert wasn’t free—You specifically bought it to give to them.”

Lyney immediately raised a finger with that confident smirk of his. “Because, my dear sister,” he began, “it’s called playing hard to get.”

If she could sigh, she would. “You can’t be serious.”

“I am! And I’m taking this game very seriously, too. Do you know how hard it is to keep my cool when I’m around the love of my life?!”

“Playing hard to get just makes it harder to get someone, Lyney. They might lose interest and move on.” But still, Lyney insisted. And still, Lynette just silently rolled her eyes.

The next time this happened was literally only a day later. So much for playing “hard to get,” she supposes. Perhaps Lyney didn’t quite fully understand the scope of how suspicious it was to offer you another “free dessert” only a day later. Or, he was just so lovestruck he absolutely could not wait to talk to you again.

Lynette decided the answer to be the latter option.

And once again, he claimed not to buy this dessert on his own, and Lynette did not miss the obvious eyebrow raise you gave her brother this time. You were still grateful since it was your favorite, of course, but it was rather clear you were beginning to question this. Lynette sighed to herself.

“Lynette!” Lyney called excitedly once he left you. “Oh, dear sister, did you see it this time? She stayed with me a bit longer—grabbing the plate much more slowly. She must have been at the start of falling in love with—!” Lyney stopped when he saw the empty seat. “Uh, Lynette?”

Farther away, you suddenly yelped in surprise, almost dropping the plated dessert in your hands.

“Sorry,” Lynette mumbled. Oops, she didn’t mean to scare you. But… maybe appearing in your field of sighs so suddenly once you turned a corner and coming from a darkened alleyway was not the most subtle.

“It’s alright,” you brushed of. “Oh, you must be Lynette, right? Lyney’s sister!”

“Correct.” Ah, how would she bring this up? She was never really the best with words… And definitely not when she had to use a lot of them. “Um, my brother,” she started. “Don’t mind him being weird.”

At the mention of her brother being weird ( perhaps she should defend him, but whatever, he was being weird. ), you seemed to relax. “Yeah…” you trailed off. “He’s been giving me these desserts lately—didn’t seem too coincidental that he keeps getting them for ‘free’… Especially since they’re, um, not even having a promotion right now.”

Again, if Lynette could wack her brother on the head right now, she would.

“He likes you.”

The sudden shock on your face tells Lynette that maybe she shouldn’t have said that so bluntly. Or that she shouldn’t have said that. At all.

“You’re a very dear friend to him,” she correct. Oh, wait, but she didn’t want to completely shut off the idea of romance. Correct it again, quick. “Or, very dear person… Yeah.”

You stayed quiet for a moment, probably trying to process the amount of confessions and corrections she just shot at you. Archons, you probably thought her and her brother were so weird. Unfortunately, she couldn’t blame you.

“Thanks, Lynette,” you said, and she noticed your feet shift to walk away. “Actually, I think I’ll keep that in mind for next time.”

Well, Lyney certainly hoped you would. She just silently watched as you walked off. But she wasn’t worried, no. As long as you spoke of this “next time,” Lynette was sure her brother would eventually succeed with you, even if he was being weird at this game.

NEUVILLETTE.

The thing that gets Furina the most excited—absolutely elated, much shown in the way she kicks her feet and patters her fingers—is the fact that her dear Iudex has no idea he’s so in love with you.

To not only her, but also the rest of Fontaine, word is quick to spread with the simple way his feet always end up turned in your direction, or how lips curve a slight upwards motion when he speaks to you. Or, the way his feelings of admiration brings out the colors in his eyes, and the shyer tone in which he laughs along with you.

And Furina, being the bestest of friends she certainly is, only wants what’s best for the Chief Justice, truly! It’s such a downer seeing him be a quiet, unsociable, hard-to-get-along-with loner all the time. And so, the moment she catches wind of his feelings, she is more than quick to come up with a way to loop the two of you together.

She pats herself in the back. She’s confident that he’ll totally thank her for all her efforts later.

This confidence still yet remains even when she has you standing up nervously on trial, wide eyes a bit scared to be accused of a crime by the Hydro Archon herself. And Neuvillette atop his seat looks exasperated, much so in a way the audience is always eyeing him with fluttering eyes and chattering whispers—because the Iudex is looking at you with such a public display of concern that he has never been known to show another on trial.

Oh, she could already see the Steambird’s morning headlines! Chief Justice Neuvillette casts eyefuls of worry towards the accused?! Or, The Iudex’s rumored lover: Accused by Lady Furina?! —Oh, oh! She was so excited!

Amidst her internal giggles was when Neuvillette’s cane came hammered down on the wooden floor of his balcony seat, silencing every voice in the Opera Epiclese. “Furina,” his voice scatters as firm as ever, though the Archon could some people gasp to themselves—Ah, she could always trust her people to spot even the slightest difference in his voice; He was clearly angrier today! “I believe you have some explaining to do.”

“Is it not obvious, my dear Iudex?” she loudly proclaimed as if acting in a performance. Her voice was playful and teasing as always, and she could tell Neuvillette was much more annoyed by it than usual today. “I am pressing charges against a darling citizen, yet a criminal over here…!”

And that was when she threw the back of her hand over her forehead for dramatic effect, making you only more nervous upon your stand. Such an increase in your fear was clearly noticeable to the Iudex, of course, as he immediately spoke to silence the Archon accusing you.

“And what would those charges entail, Furina?”

There was a sudden glare in his eyes, almost threatening. But oh well, nothing he could do—She knew he would stick by the law and allow her to make her claim anyways. This was so easy, she could almost laugh to herself!

“For…”

Oh, celebration was already at the back of her mind!

“Murder!”

…Holy shit. Oh Archons. She was supposed to say theft. “Theft,” for stealing Neuvillette’s heart. But instead she slipped up and said murder.

Oh, she can’t take that back now. But… But no worries! She was the beloved Archon that had absolutely no issues performing for her people—ergo, she could totally come up with a new plan! Certainly, a single-word slip-up will surely not mess up her entire pickup line here.

“Yes, you heard me,” she played along, hands balling to fists and dramatically sitting at her hips. “Murder!”

“Furina!” Neuvillette silenced from his place below on the podium. Never before has she seen his facial expression this angered. There was a furrow between his brows that betrayed his usually calm and emotionless look—and aw, she thought it was so romantic for him to show these emotions so outwardly just for you! The audience must love his display of passion right now—all to defend your honor! “What is the meaning of this?” his voice boomed.

Furina cleared her throat. “Murder…” she began to make her case against you. You, who looked up at her so fearfully. She almost felt bad. “For… For breathing…!” Wait, that’s not what she meant. “No, no, like murder… of breath— of my breath— no, of Neuvillette’s breath, I mean—” Okay, at this point, she just needed to spit something out. And that was when she raised a finger, pointing it accusingly down at you and making her claim: “You killed Neuvillette!”

The next instance was filled with a silence so deafeningly powerful that she felt her own stomach churn and her knees grow shaky. Well, this was definitely an embarrassment she hopes to never feel again.

Surely, this silence wasn’t awkward enough for her land the finishing blow…?

“Like, you stole his breath away…” she tried. “So you technically killed him.”

Okay maybe it was time for her to shut up.

Neuvillette’s face; oh, he looked absolutely furious. This was not the picture-perfect sight of cherry tomato blushing she was hoping for here. And you: a horror-stricken disbelief. Your mind looked like it was racing to comprehend both being charged with such a serious crime, and having the Chief Justice just randomly outed in public for… having a crush on you…?

Meanwhile Furina stood still in her usual place, just about ready to curl up and die from her failed attempt at a love confession. But before that, perhaps Celestia heard her prayers.

The audience pretty much erupted in girlish screams and whispers—all those watchful citizens of Fontaine who treated your relationship with Neuvillette like the hottest topic of the century, like the storybook romance they were reading obsessively. And now, Furina watched—watched as your expression contorted to slow realization that maybe your Archon wasn’t exactly lying about Neuvillette’s feelings, and that maybe almost the entire nation was already romanticizing you two.

And then, there: that was when Furina watched as your face blew up an expression of pure embarrassment, all the fear being completely wiped away. Then Furina could almost die when she turned her gaze to Neuvillette—who was still watching you very intently—and how the ends of his ears turned a blushing red.

Oh, this view was priceless. Once again, perfect Focalors saves the day!

KAMISATO AYATO.

Thoma clicked his tongue. “Tall and awkward.” He squinted his eyes. “Practically unrecognizable in Inazuma despite your status.” Then, he tilted his head. “Absolutely terrible at small talk.”

Finally, Thoma nodded his head. “Yep, you don’t have a chance, my Lord.”

Thoma yelped as a paper fan hit his shoulder, and that was when Ayaka slid at the seat next to him. He made a quick apology to her, but when Ayaka looked across the table, she saw how her older brother didn’t seem quite phased at Thoma’s mean evaluation at all.

Instead, he seemed to be really considering what was told to him.

“Oh, brother,” Ayaka caught his attention. “Don’t listen to Thoma, he was only being mean. Personally, I think you have a good chance at winning this date!”

“No, no, Thoma might be right,” Ayato pondered. Aw, Ayaka didnt like it when he doubted himself. “All of those traits may make this date go horribly wrong—I might end up appearing as undesirable…”

Ayaka frowned. She may not have a love life of her own, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t watching her brother’s love life like an Inazuman drama act or like a romantic storybook. And the fact that Ayato has downright fallen tremendously hard for you—who Ayaka also loved dearly, and who she admired so much—makes her pray to the Archons every night for your relationship to set sail.

So Ayato scoring this first date with you was already a big deal on its own. Only… He wasn’t quite sure what date plan would make him the most appealing man to be courting you.

Of course, who else could he turn to, other than his darling best friend and sister? Ayaka certainly had no expertise in this, but if there was one thing…

“Brother, please take this!” Across the table, she shoved a stack of just a few papers, slightly faded and lightly wrinkled, into his hands. He blinked in surprise at them for a moment before squinting at the rushed handwriting that clearly did not belong to his sister. “The Traveler gave this to me; It’s a recipe for a pizza dish from Mondstadt!

And that was how she ended up here, watching with Thoma from the sidelines of the estate as Ayato gives you the friendliest smile can force upon himself as he offers to make the both of you food. Now, the last time Ayaka tried this, she blew up the oven with the Traveler in earshot. But surely, she knew her brother had much better survival skills than she did, and there was no way he would ruin a perfectly easy pizza recipe.

But then Thoma almost burst out laughing from their secluded hiding spot, and that was when she noticed her brother bringing out not one, but instead two platters of pizza. A rather odd aroma in the air. Oh.

“I thought we’d spice things up!” they heard Ayato say to you, clasping his gloved hands together and regaining his weird, excited smile and that equally weird, excited tone in his voice. Oh brother… “One pizza is normal, and the other pizza has random toppings I threw on it—as a taste test!”

And when he set the two down, it was… quite interesting. One was a normal mushroom pizza, cooked based on Traveler’s recipe: Ayato certainly made it much better than Ayaka could’ve attempted. But the second pizza was topped with a rather colorful palette: lavender melons, sea grass, and what looked like Sea Ganoderma. Ayaka and Thoma already found themselves gagging at the smell.

When Ayaka glanced at her blonde companion, he was furiously shaking his head at her, running a thumb straight across his throat as if saying “It’s over for him.” And honestly, Ayaka might have to agree this time. Maybe she should’ve never given him that pizza recipe or that cooking idea.

“A ‘taste test’…” you echoed. The two eavesdroppers heard shifts from your side do the table, meaning you reached forward to grab a slice—they quite obviously guessed you picked the regular mushroom pizza. “The host should go first, don’t you think?”

Oh? Did that mean you were interested in this game of two after all? Ayaka’s eyes practically lit up—She was so excited for her brother!

“I’ll take up that offer of yours,” Ayato chuckled lowly. And with no gag or hesitance at all, he takes a large bite with a whole unsavory mixture of the ingredients entering the cave of his mouth. “Mm, not bad at all.”

You were visibly surprised by his calmness, now reaching out to grab a slice of your own and biting it just as he did.

But almost immediately, that bite was spat right back out onto a napkin at the mere taste of this weird concoction. “Bleh, Lord Commissioner! How did you manage to eat a whole slice?!”

The first thing Ayaka and Thoma noticed: The way you said this was amidst laughter. You were laughing, and it even sounded like you were smiling. Because whenever Ayato tried this sort of gross mixing method with Thoma or Ayaka, they would also say the same line of disgust, but in an unfavorable way. But, no—You sounded genuinely lighthearted?

The second thing Ayaka and Thoma noticed ( from even the slightest of peeks ): The big, bona fide grin on Ayato’s face at your reaction. Oh, he was absolutely eating this up, as no one ever showed a positive reaction to his weird little hobby before. And of course, being partnered with the fact he was ( not-so ) secretly in love with you, only made it so much better for him.

“It was alright, I’d say!” he spoke excitedly, a hint of an uncontrollable laughter and uncontrollable smile laced in his voice. “It had the most memorable texture, and the taste felt like I was in touch with mother nature.”

You only scoffed at him in a joking manner, “None of those ‘compliments’ of yours weren’t inherently positive, Commissioner.”

To that, he gave you another big grin before silently reaching to eat yet another slice of this suspicious pizza. Well, Ayaka supposed her brother’s weirdness landing a perfect date with you, after all. And then she pat herself on the back—because maybe, giving him that recipe was the best mistake she could make.

// not proofread ;; THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE FUNNIER THAN INTENDED. BUT IM BAD AT BEING FUNNY :(

#neuvillette x reader #ayato x reader #lyney x reader #kamisato ayato x reader #genshin x reader #genshin imagines #genshin x gender neutral reader #lyney fluff #neuvillette x you

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