#HOW THE HELL DO I REVISE THIS SHIT | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hannie-dul-set · 3 months ago

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fire and brimstone (and you’re a moth made of gasoline) — ONE.

SYNOPSIS. having fought tooth and nail out of high school, university, and law school, only to end up working for a law firm that basically serves as a clean up dog after the biggest organized crime group in the district, you thought you couldn’t get any lower than this.

the bar is in hell, and yet you’ve managed to limbo six feet beneath that. alternatively— na jaemin is the personification of hell, and your very existence just makes him even worse than he already is.

PAIRING. na jaemin x female! reader. GENRE. gang! au, lawyer! au, office! au, comedy, drama, romance, very light angst, this is a sitcom, hate to love(?), a somewhat questionable power dynamic, asshole! jaemin (my beloved…my kryptonite…) but he’s also an idiot, jaemin has an eye contact thing, inspired by the manhwas “weak hero” and “study group.” WARNINGS. an abundance of criminal activity (including but not limited to organized crime, fraud, blackmail, DUIs, unethical and illegal occupational practices, etc.), blood and violence, suggestive themes, eventual non explicit sex, jaemin with a tattoo, legal inaccuracies because i am not familiar with south korean laws, so i’m just using my own country’s as reference. also because this is just a stupid thirst fic. who gives a damn. WORD COUNT. 9k.

NOTE. my goal for this fic is to make as many male characters either detestable or unesttling, and make you like them against your will. in other words, meet mark and doyoung HAHAHAHAH. this is mostly still exposition!!! establishing facts and relationships and dynamics and whatnot. more jaemin next chapter. too much jaemin, even. anyway, enjoy! CHAPTER TWO.

IT’S SUPPOSED TO BE YOUR OFF DAY TODAY. You’re on sick leave— that is, sick and tired of drafting legal papers, meeting clients, reading piles and piles of documents every single damn week, so you decided to use your once-a-month get out of jail free card to stay in bed playing Stardew Valley. It’s pre-planned. You’ve already faked sneezes and coughing fits at the office yesterday. You’ve already called your Division Chief this morning. Kim Doyoung can’t do shit when you’re allegedly bedridden and downtrodden with a fever. He can eat his own ass and suck it.

“You have a new case,” he informs you over the phone. “It’s from Nalkkeutta.”

Or so you thought.

“Hah,” a weak wheeze squirms out of your throat. “Sure. Okay. Got it.”

Motherfucking son of a bitch. Those two lines spring you out of bed immediately as though your bones have just been tased. God dammit. You’ve just managed to snag Sebastian into wedlock. How dare he throw another job at you right now? How dare he ruin your sweet, sweet honeymoon with the emotionally constipated 2D man of your dreams?

Still. It doesn’t matter if you just got married or have a collapsing lung right now. You haul your ass, get dressed, get out, and get into your car to drive to your district’s police station in a hissy fit, as per your boss, Kim Doyoung’s, instructions. This damned firm is working you like a dog, but you can’t bite the hand that feeds you. And neither can Kim Doyoung.

“Yes, sir, I’m on my way. Are the files ready? Can you send them to me?”

This case came from Nalkkeutta. NCT. Nal. Day. Kkeut. End. Ta. To burn. The day ends in flames. It’s a name that haunts the streets of Yeongdeungpo. It’s a name that’s synonymous with loan sharking, weapons dealing, and coughing up protection fees unless you want to get your shit rocked on an unfortunate walk home— under the guise of an honest to goodness security company to service your protective needs.

In the early 90’s, the government had a massive crackdown on gang activity and organized crime, subsequently snuffing out any emerging organized crime presence by officially criminalizing the mere act of joining a gang under the Revised Penal Code. But Nalkkeutta is relatively new. That scorching sunset symbol suddenly emerged in the district one day, around eight to nine years ago, and it’s marred the district of Yeongdeungpo with burn marks ever since.

And your life. You haven’t been lucky enough to be spared from that damned gang’s mess. In fact, you’re currently entangled with one of their messes right now.

The glass doors of the Yeongdeungpo Police Station shut behind you. You’re smacked hard in the face far too artificial lighting and sickly white walls and the words Patriotism, Justice, Honor mocking you in embossed silver. You grimace, cross your arms, divert your eyes with an impatient tap of the foot— and your arrival doesn’t exactly come unrecognized by the front desk and the others scattered around the lobby. One officer takes immediate initiative upon seeing your familiar sour expression, rustling out of a conversation to attend to you.

“Hey, attorney. How may we help you?”

You eye the man. You’ve come to know him by name— Jung Jaehyun— even without needing to take a peek at his uniform’s name tag. You spare him and yourself the small talk and jump straight to business. “I’m here to see my client,” you inform, followed by under-the-breath swears as you fumble through your phone for the e-file Doyoung had just sent because Nalkkeutt had the gall to demand you to run and fetch the bone they left behind here without even giving you the chance to look at it. Seriously. If they want you to do a good job, they should be more punctual than this. “His name is—”

Huh. You read the top line of the document. A lump forms in your throat. You read it again. Once more. And the letters neither shift nor fold, confirming with absolute certainty that you read the name of your client correctly.

It’s a name you haven’t heard of in a while. It’s name that stalked the corridors of the place you’d bid good riddance to eight years ago with a spit on the concrete ground.

“Na Jaemin.” There’s a bitter taste on your tongue when you pronounce his name— like your very digestive system can’t stomach it, rejects it, and wants to vomit it right back out. “His name is Na Jaemin.”

A nod from Jung Jaehyun. He turns his heels and leads you further into the station.

Empty footsteps echo against the slowly dimming hall leading to the private visiting rooms. The silence pricks at your memories— an uncomfortable sound you’ve grown accustomed to in the two years you’ve spent at Ganghak High School. It’s been eight damn years since you’ve graduated, yet one mention of a name reels you back into the past with a vividness that’s still as clear as the present.

In your memories, Na Jaemin was the guy who carried with him a pungent air of animosity and violence in his wake. On paper, he is your client, a member of the power-drunk gang that you’re tied by the noose with, and someone you have to defend. At present, he is sits right before you— tight-browed, tight-lipped underneath the singular light bulb hovering above the center of the table, looking as though he’s one clock tick away from flipping the table over (the only thing maintaining a safe distance between the both of you), and leaving on his own accord.

Your eyes meet. Your head snaps down to avoid his gaze.

“Good day, Na Jaemin-ssi,” you manage to choke out. “I will be your lawyer for the case against Yoon Naksung and company.”

You’re not sure how you feel when there isn’t even a click of recognition on his part when you introduce yourself and mention your name. You realize that what you’re feeling is a mixture of fear, relief, and absolute revulsion when he responds with, “So, when the fuck am I getting out?”

There’s a ring in your ears.

It’s the sound of your heart trying to escape from your chest.

You inhale sharply. Fuck. You’re not sure if you have the willpower to push through this, and you can’t even ease your nerves or melt your frozen bloodstream with a sigh because he’s staring right at you— impatient, as though he’s counting down the seconds in his head after a one-sided declaration that you have a limited time to willingly answer before he forces it out of you by the throat.

That fucking looking in his eyes. That damned stare that instinctively triggers you to look down, look away, look anywhere else but directly at him. It’s a habit that everyone in Ganghak used to have. It’s a habit that’s still deeply instilled in your psyche, in your muscles, in your instincts to the point that despite being the person in authority at the moment, you have your head down, throat dry, and doing your damn best to read his case file despite the letters looking all wobbly from your anxiety.

Disturbing the peace. Three counts of physical injury. Less serious. Thank fuck. That makes things a little bit more hopeful, but that doesn’t mean you’re free from hell. Hell is sitting right in front of you, handcuffed because the cops have deemed his very existence a threat to public order and safety. You muster up a bit more confidence knowing he can’t reach over the table to sock you in the face.

“You’re an alleged offender, Na Jaemin-ssi. You’d have to be detained until the trial.”

Na Jaemin sneers, a kick against the table leg with a grunt. “Fucking useless,” he spits. His chair is tipped back, head turned away. You firmly press your lips together. You wish he’d just completely tip over and crash his skull and die.

For someone currently detained for a possible criminal offense, Na Jaemin sure seems very much unbothered yet annoyed at the same time. He sits relaxed on the foldable chair, shoulders slumped as if he owns the place, and he stifles out a lazy yawn— drawing attention to his busted lips and handful of scratches littered all over his cheekbone, temple, and forehead— a stark contrast to the vibrant purple splotch painting over his right jaw. You make a mental note to schedule a physical examination on his ass to record his injuries.

“But…I can make sure you don’t get arrested” You proceed with caution. His evident annoyance is flecked with momentary interest. You suck in a deep breath. “Were there any other people involved besides you and the three witnesses? Was anyone else there?”

You’re not sure what you were expecting as a response. Whatever it’d be, you just hope you get some useful information. Any sort of information. However, it seems like you just asked the wrong question.

“The fuck? Hell, if I know.”

All that interest is eradicated by a sharp glare. Na Jaemin lets out a huff and a sneer. You’re stressed. You’re beyond stressed. This is impossible. Of all people, why did it have to be him? Back then, you’d always had a feeling that he was part of something sketchy, whether it be some ragtag juvenile group or whatever the fuck. You didn’t care enough to find out. But, christ jesus, he just had to be in fucking Nalkkeut.

That sun tattoo sprawled on the back of his impatient hand— the gang’s symbol, sun rays etched into the bumps of his veins and calloused skin— tap, tap, tapping on the table with the clunk of his handcuffs tells you that he isn’t just some disposable grunt either. The urgency in Kim Doyoung’s tone when he called earlier confirms that dreadful conjecture as well. He’s up there. Way up there, and you have no choice but to fight back the urge to swallow your own tongue.

“I—I understand. That’s fine. Then…can I ask what events led to the incident?” you tentatively try to prod, taking a peek at his expression to see if you’re greenlit to ask this. His face brightens up. One corner of his mouth twitches upward, revealing a sliver of teeth. You flinch. He looks deranged.

“That bucket wearing dumbass looked me in the eye,” he starts, smiling. “So I punched him right in the socket. Then his friends decided that they wanted a beating too.”

Na Jaemin is leaning back on the flimsy plastic chair as if he’s reminiscing a happy memory. Jesus christ. He’s always been like this, but it never fails to scare you shitless. You’ve always wondered why he was so insane, but the fact that he currently is and has been in Nalkeutta explains a lot of the things you’ve seen in high school. No high schooler had any business pulling up the gate with a BMW, nor was it reasonable for anyone at your age at the time to afford at least five Cartier watches considering the neighborhood you were in. Yet Na Jaemin and his lackey’s always showed up in the days that he thought was convenient in some sort of Chanel tracksuit and dozens of gold and silver accessories.

You were lucky enough to have never gotten punched in the nose with the absurd amount of rings on his fingers— a taste which he seems to carry until today, you notice while keeping your eyes down and trained on the table. They aren’t allowed to keep any personal belongings in the holding cells, jewelry included, fucking obviously. How this guy managed to keep his is beyond your imagination.

“So, it wasn’t one-sided,” you try to confirm, try to get a good enough testimony to help his and your sorry ass in court. “Can you testify their participation during the trial?”

Wrong move. Very wrong move.

You jump in your seat when he suddenly lurches forward, chained palms slamming against the rocky table with a loud thump and a clink. “Hey, Little Miss Attorney. Listen very carefully,” he rasps. He’s leaned in closer now, making it a hundred times more difficult to keep your head down and not look him in the eye. “I beat all three of them half to death, and that’s all that matters. This question and answer bullshit is pissing me off. Are we done here? Can you fucking leave now?”

You’re scared shitless. You really are. It’s two years worth of trauma suddenly jumping you from behind a wall and throttling the air out of your lungs— of course you’re fucking terrified, and Na Jaemin can smell it like the rabid dog he is.

The problem is, he isn’t the worst of your fears. This mutt is leashed to an owner that would have your head as a dinner treat if you don’t manage to get him out of this stupid cage. So you don’t have much of a choice in the matter. Damned to hell if you do, damned to an even deeper hell if you don’t.

“Na Jaemin-ssi,” you start. Your jaw is tight. It takes everything in your power to force it open and speak. “I need you to cooperate with me so I can get you out of here. Help me help you, alright?”

You’ve really been trying your best to phrase your sentences in a way that doesn’t sound demanding, that you’re leaving it hp to him because you know this bastard doesn’t like being told what to do. But your careful attempts don’t matter against a volatile son of a bitch. “Why’d you even need my help? Ain’t that shit your job?“ he barbs, a slight scoff hanging off at the end. “Seems like Mark hired a useless fucking lawyer.”

Twice. He just called you useless twice. The sheer level of offense you feel momentarily overpowers your nerves— a biting tick near the side of your temple, and you dig your fingers into the clothed skin of your thigh.

The Mark he’s referencing did not hire you because you’re useless. In fact, that guy regularly asks for you specifically whenever his gang is caught in any civil or criminal trouble because you’re the only damned attorney willing to get her hands dirty to find an out— and competent enough to pull it off in exchange for an extra zero on your commission.

Meaning, this bastard is at your mercy. And he has the audacity to piss you the fuck off.

“Strike a nerve?”

Apparently, you failed to hide the scowl polluting your expression. When you sneak a glance at Na Jaemin, he appears to be amused at his successful non-attempt to get under your skin, a lazy, lopsided grin on his face.

You get it together. Mark Lee, that fucking bastard. It had been fine for the past few months when all you’ve had to mediate were petty settlements and bails and lesser criminal offenses, but you’ve never had to deal with one of his executives directly before— who just so happened to be your high school bully, at that. You close your eyes shut, press your lips together, and release a deep breath from out of your nose as you stand up.

“I’ll handle it. There’s nothing for you to worry about, but I will need to arrange a meeting with you again before the trial.”

Na Jaemin simply shrugs and waives you off. Your tight lips force themselves into a smile as you nod and stomp your way out.

Fucking bastard, fucking piece of shit, fucking, god damn it—

You leave the station with a jumbled up head and with all your five senses screaming themselves into oblivion. Shit. Fuck. What the fuck. Had Kim Doyoing emailed you the file a lot earlier, you wouldn’t have gone here and welcomed yourself directly into hell. You could try to settle with the victims, but in case they won’t agree to a compromise, you’d have to pull a defense out of your ass considering that your client is the most uncooperative asshole you’ve ever been cursed to deal with.

It doesn’t help that spending two years in high school with Na Jaemin is reopening pages and pages of trauma that you thought you’d successfully managed to file away— stored in a safety vault in a little corner of your head that need not be reopened. But just meeting him— talking to him directly when you’ve never even dared to before— brought a rusty crowbar to that vault, mercilessly ripping it apart.

Having cancelled your off day, the car ride to your office building is spent thinking about how to scrape up a case to defend the bastard you thought you’d finally been freed from eight years ago. The bastard who’d made the last two years of high school a literal level hell of dread and desperation.

Even for Nalkkeutta, this has got to be the worst kind of torture anyone could ask for.

*‎

The next morning, Nalkkeutta’s boss is gracious enough to answer your request for a meeting.

Mark Lee shows up to the conference room of JSS’s Criminal Division, accompanied by a polite knock on the already open door, a humming smile, and a Kim Doyoung— who you very clearly don’t remember inviting to this meeting. Mark enters the room with a good morning. You nod and your eyes skip over him, flitting over to meet your boss’s gaze by the door instead. “You must be very busy, sir. What are you doing here?”

The wrinkle that forms between Doyoung’s eyebrows signifies that he very much understood your polite version of a fuck off. “I just wanted to escort our client,” he replies, adjusting his glasses.

You smile at him. “The escorting usually ends when the client has arrived at their destination.”

Doyoung’s jaw stiffens. Mark seems to be sufficiently entertained by the exchange, attention hopping back and forth between you and your boss. The latter surrenders and ends the episode with a sigh and a nod, completely glossing over you to speak to Mark instead. “Mr. Lee, please let me know if you need anything.”

You hear Mark respond in a pleasant tone, “Don’t worry, I know I’m in good hands,” but you don’t look at him yet. You force the gravity of your gaze onto Doyoung— an unwavering smile that creeps him out just enough to finally give up and leave the room, shutting the door behind him with a click, and finally allowing you to relax your shoulders and sink into the glossy, wooden table.

“Ugh.”

Stuck-up prick. The bane of your fucking existence, had it not been for the reappearance of Na Jaemin, the other capricious asshole in your life. Your head cocks up, hearing the scratching noise of a chair being pulled out. Mark sits right in front of you, maintaining a smile. “Bad morning?” And you finally speak your first words to him, in the form of a raging rant about his hot mess of an executive.

“Hey, be honest, do you want me fired? Do you want me to make my first ever loss? Your employee, Na Jaemin, told me he got into this mess because Yoon Naksung and his friends were looking at him for too long. Does that make sense to you? Is that how a sane man operates? How the hell am I supposed to defend that in court? How the hell am I supposed to defend his ass when he gives me fucking nothing to work with, and all while having the balls to call me useless?”

You’re out of breath by the end of it. Whew. That felt so freaking good.

“Sorry.” You eject yourself out of your tantrum upon hearing Mark’s not-so-apologetic apology. You leer at him from across the table, watching the stillness of his apparent pleasant expression. “Jaemin can be kind of rude sometimes.”

This guy is Nalkkeutta’s boss, you remind yourself. He’s the source of your fattened up bank account and worsened sense of justice and morality for the past five months—

“Rude is an understatement. He’s a fucking piece of shit.”

—and he’s also somewhat your friend.

“I’ve never seen you this angry.” Mark laughs, relaxing into his seat. “Was he that bad?”

Nalkeutta and JSS Law firm’s partnership has existed prior to your employment here. However, you’ve know Nalkkeutta’s boss even before you’ve entered law school, much less started working here. Kim Doyoung doesn’t know this, obviously. Their background check on you did not go as far as finding out your regular patrons throughout the four years you spent working at a run-down cafe-bar downtown throughout the entirety of your undergrad.

The cafe’s name was The Hangman. Pirate-themed, which was used as a frequent justification by your boss to never fix the broken chair legs, unkempt storage boxes, and occasional leaky ceilings. They add to the aesthetic, he says.

Anyhow, it was then that you first met Mark Lee, around three weeks into your first shift. He’d usually come in at around 10 p.m., order an old fashioned at the counter, flash you a pretty and boyish smile, then quietly read on the same spot until one in the morning before thanking you and leaving. Each time, you clock the hardbound cover titles. The Laws of Human Nature. Man’s Search for Meaning. Leviathan. Confessions of an Economic Hit Man.

Frankly, the crap he regularly reads worked better to make him look more daunting than his overall appearance. Mark Lee wore the visage of a cute, college literature major— covered in knit beanies and warm cardigans and all— but carried books and ordered drinks that made him seem like he was fifty-seven years old. The only time you found an opening was the time he finally brought a long something other than self-help or pretentious nonfiction. Kafka on the Shore. “I didn’t peg you as a Murakami guy.”

Mark Lee was taken aback when you first talked to him. He asked what made you say that.

You referenced the previous books he’d been carrying along. He blinked, laughed, then said that he actually preferred reading fiction. He’d only been reading all that obnoxious bullshit (your words) because he was fascinated with the mental gymnastics (his words) some people were capable of, and he was just compelled to read more. You’re still not sure how much of that defense was true, but that doesn’t really matter because your conversations gradually strayed away from books to your daily life instead— your classes and readings and the annoying customers you’d regularly had to deal with at work. It’s mostly you doing the talking, and it’s mostly because you otherwise had no one else to talk to to kill time during your night shifts at The Hangman.

“Was he that bad?” you parrot, sarcastically. “He said that you did a shit job picking a lawyer. You tell me, Mark Lee. Do you think your executive is a stellar guy?”

Mark only laughs. You grunt and slump in your seat, arms crossed as you observe Mark’s expression from across the table. It seems like he doesn’t mind you talking shit about his people this much. His lips are pressed in a perpetual, easygoing smile as he eyes the set of folders and documents on your side. You bite the inside of your cheek. From his appearance alone, you wouldn’t have guessed him to be the head of the most notorious gang in the underbelly of Yeongdeungpo. In fact, you would never have guessed it if you didn’t take an extra shift one day at The Hangman.

You ended up staying later than your usual 2 a.m. to cover for a co-worker. It was a weekend, so you didn’t mind much. Mark Lee hadn’t shown up that night. That is until you saw him come in at the store thirty minutes after two— deviating from his usual routine in more ways than one when he didn’t stop to order a drink, when he was with someone else who you were frankly too intimidated to look at for too long. When he went in and up the staircase at the back of the bar that was otherwise off limits because it led to your boss’s office in the upper area— and none of your supervisors came to stop him nor even attempt to look at him when he came back out with his big, scary companion walking three steps behind him while carrying a large and heavy looking black bag.

This happened a few more times. And Mark Lee would always smile at you when he’d pass by the bar counter. That’s when you knew something was up. But you knew better than to dig your nose into that kind of business.

Unfortunately, you didn’t have the ability to see the future back then.

You look at the guy sitting in front of you right now. Mark Lee’s eyes flit up from your documents to look at you again, hands clasped together and resting gingerly on the conference table. “I’d sincerely like to apologize on his behalf,” he starts. You feel a thump in your chest. “But I hope his uncooperativeness isn’t making it impossible for you to win the case, attorney.”

Yup. That was a threat. Get my errand dog out of jail— even if he bites you in the process, is what he’s trying to say. Mark Lee may have been your bar regular and friend at some point, but right now he is your client— the most important client your firm has ever had the pleasure of receiving. He is not your friend right now. He is your high school bully’s boss. He is the head of the biggest organized crime group in the district. And your law firm is just one of the many cogs running his criminal machinery. One slip up, and he could just wrench you out without a second thought.

“Of course it’s not impossible. What do you think of me?”

You slide the first file you have down the table. Even if Na Jaemin is fucking useless, you’re not letting him ruin your flawless performance record. You’re not letting him give Mark Lee a reason to throw you away.

“What’s this?”

“The witness list. Yoon Naksung, Hong Hyunjae, and Ma Gildong,” you start. “Your dog fucked them up really badly. I already met their lawyer. He was being dodgy about it, but I doubt they’d let him off with a simple settlement.”

A glint flickers in Mark Lee’s eyes are your introduction.

“I already have another meeting scheduled with him this week. I’d like to talk to the three victims personally, but you know I’m not allowed to do that.”

He hums, glossing over your file before setting it back down on the table, fingers pressed firmly on the page as he looks up with a pleasant smile. “When should I take care of them?”

A shiver crawls down your spine. “I’ll let you know depending on how the second meeting goes,” you answer. “Even if the three of them testify, there won’t be enough evidence to prove his guilt beyond reasonable doubt based on what the prosecution has so far. I don’t know why the fuck their counsel is even bothering with this. Na Jaemin would effectively be acquitted from his criminal charges.”

Your client appears to be satisfied, but you’re not done yet.

“However, that won’t absolve him from civil liability.”

No way in hell.

“Yoon Naksung’s party can still sue for damages. And they have enough evidence to guarantee a win. Na Jaemin would be fined at most, and I’m sure it’d be very easy for you to cough up a couple thousand for him. But that’s still a loss for me. And I can’t have that stain on my record.”

Your brows wrinkle. You release a breath.

“Talk to Yoon Naksung. Or Hong Hyunjae. or Ma Gildong, or whatever. It doesn’t matter. It might be hard to get through Yoon since he’s the one fighting the most for this, but the other two would be pretty easy. I hear Ma Gildong’s business isn’t in good shape lately. The address is on the file.” You rise up, leaning forward to reach an arm over. You drop an index finger on the exact spot on the document you were referencing, landing a firm thump on the table. “If the court hears that all of them were all equally beating the shit out of each other in a drunken episode, not remembering who started what, instead of it being a one-sided beating from your exec just because they looked at him wrong—”

Your eyes flit up. You meet Mark’s gaze— unblinking and dilated. You clear your throat and look away.

“Then—then, their case won’t be merited. The court would dismiss it in pari delicto.”

Mark Lee seems pretty fucking happy to hear that. He’s all smiles and applause and it stresses you the fuck out. “I knew I could count on you, attorney.”

You sigh, slumping back down in your seat. “I already have Na Jaemin’s medical report. If you could get at least two of the witnesses to cooperate, that would be great.” Mark responds with a nod and a hum. You sigh again. “We have so many competent lawyers here. Why do you keep specifically asking for me? Next time, go ask Doyoung, or something. I’m tired.” You’d give up this illegal but lucrative money machine just to see Kim Doyoung experience the life-or-death stress you’ve been experiencing these past five months. You really would.

“Because you’re good,” he responds lightly— genuinely. A little too genuine for your liking. Mark shoots you a smile as he tucks his abandoned seat back under the conference table. Uh oh. Here he goes again. “How about officially joining Nalkkeutta as the head of our legal department?”

“Hah,” you snort. “My hands may have gotten dirty, but I can still wash them, Mark Lee.” The look on his face tells you that he isn’t taking you seriously. You leer your eyes. You’re serious. You don’t intend on being Nalkkeut’s clean-up dog forever. Five months ago, you just happened to have shit luck with the desperation to match. Both bad luck and desperation are bound to run out at some point. You just hope they manage to burn out before this guy could burn you alive. “I’ll get back to you once I’ve met with their lawyer again. For the meantime, just keep an eye on the witnesses. Let me know if you find anything of importance.”

His eyes linger on you for a while, still smiling. You know where his head is at. Your grimace— even harder when he asks again to confirm, “So, is that a no?”

“Hell no.”

Mark clicks his tongue. “Worth a shot.” At this point, he’s already halfway out of the conference. “See you again, attorney,” he bids farewell

“God, please, no,” you respond with a grunt. He laughs. The door clicks shut. You groan and become one with the almond table.

How many times has he tried to recruit you already? You’ve lost count. You’re already being regularly run through the wringer at JSS, how much more under Nalkkeut? Jesus, you don’t even want to entertain the thought. So, you busy your head with your current main stressor: the Na Jaemin case. You force your face off the table with a grunt and pull out your ipad to double check the trial schedule. Two weeks from now. Thursday. Fuck all. How did you end up here?

In retrospect, maybe it was actually all your fault. Three months ago— two months into working at JSS Law Firm— you decided that you were sick and tired of being trapped in Kim Doyoung’s legal counsel team as an associate, without being granted any personal recognition or accolades. You wanted to prove your worth. You wanted to get your credit. This time, you’re going to get your first fucking big girl case. Even if it meant discourteously bulldozing into Kim Doyoung’s office like a chihuahua looking for a fight.

Which you did, only to be shell-shocked and surprised to see the face of your old bar counter friend— who might also be a gang leader— in the middle of a very…confidential conversation with your supervisor.

“Attorney, what the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Too late. You’ve already overheard their conversation. They were discussing a case much like your current one— one of Mark Lee’s executives got caught in the middle of an illegal firearms deal, and Doyoung was having trouble looking for a lawyer stupid enough to take the case.

He shooed you out, but you stayed. You simply had no choice. You had to bite the bullet. This was a spring-loaded opportunity, and you didn’t intend on feeling from it.

“I’ll do it. I can handle it.”

You did get your big girl case, alright. You won. But you also had to book a full body spa session after your first time shaking hands with a criminal— just to feel somewhat cleaner. Obviously, you’ve become a lot more jaded now. Your boss has decided to dump all of Nalkkeuta’s major cases onto your desk since then, and Mark Lee has been trying to poach you ever since.

JSS. Jinsilseong. Integrity. What a load of bullshit. Where’s the integrity in working as criminal clean up dogs? There’s neither integrity nor justice here. Yet you’re able to afford a decent apartment because of that tarnished integrity. Dirty money. You make yourself sick, but drive home and back to work again for the next few days with the car that money bought you, because there’s no way in hell integrity can give you a comfortable life.

*‎

“How’s your Nalkkeuta case going?”

Kim Jungwoo comes over to greet you at the division breakroom while you’re in the middle of making yourself a cup of instant coffee after three fucking hours of being hunched over your cubicle the whole day. You jolt upon hearing his voice, flitting your head over to the direction of his voice, and you’re greeted by a face that clearly has gotten his eight hours in.

Unlike you. Jungwoo and you joined the firm at about the same time, yet somehow you look as though you’ve been trapped here for a good ten decades. He bats his eyes at you with a pretty boy smile while waiting for your response. You grunt.

“Dreadful. Horrible. Do you want to take it from me and liberate me from this misery?”

The laugh he gives you in response probably means a no. You click your tongue, grunting as you set aside to give him space on the counter. “Is it that bad?” he asks, rustling through the cabinets for a coffee stick somewhere. Kim Doyoung should restock and feed his poor laborers better.

“Yoon’s party won’t settle. They’re dead set on pursuing a cIass action.” Jungwoo manages to fish one stick out. “Not to mention my own fucking client refused my visit. I miss the days where all I had to do was summarize court transcripts and deliver correspondences for Doyoung. You never really know what you’re missing until you lose it.”

That was a lie, but you’re miserable. You were able to meet all three of the witnesses last week, in the presence of their lawyer, obviously and unfortunately. Yoon Naksung seems to be their leader, because the moment you uttered the words ‘settlement’ and ‘compromise,’ he nearly jumped off his seat to full-on throttle you. You’d ask why the hell he’s so hostile, but you read their written testimony on the day of the incident. He recounted all the heinous crap Na Jaemin spewed out while he beat the shit out of them. Things you’d rather not repeat out loud. The other two witnesses didn’t seem as passionate as Naksung, like they just wanted it to be over with and forget how much Na Jaemin humiliated their asses by wiping their faces on the ground and proceeding to call them a bunch of bitch babies.

Anyhow, you have your last attempt of negotiation this afternoon with their lawyer. Honestly, it doesn’t even matter at this point. You just want to let the court know that you’ve done your due diligence of attempting to reach an amicable settlement. You’ve got other cards up your sleeve— you’ve always had.

Which is why Kim Doyoung doesn’t buy your whining and complaining when overhears it in the breakroom.

“Get a grip.”

You flinch. Doyoung makes an appearance by shoveling in between you and Jungwoo to the coffee storage. You two step aside. He releases a silent swear upon realizing there’s no more instant coffee left. So, he decides to release his pissy attitude onto the innocent cupboard door by slamming it shut with a loud bam!

You and Jungwoo look at each other. Bad executive meeting. Very bad, you two mentally agree, sharing a look and a nod. JSS has been dealing with negative press lately. Director must have dumped the burden of fixing it onto him. Poor guy. He deserves it.

Doyoung manages to compose himself in a matter of seconds. He inhales, chest rising, then adjusts his crooked glasses with a huff from lips, finishing it up by giving you a lowered stare. “I’m not really worried about your performance,” he carefully pronounces. “Nalkkeut always asks for you for a reason. Mark Lee gets along well with you, too. So, quit being dramatic.”

He gets along with you because you both like Haruki Murakami, never dug your nose into his business, and always cleaned up his messes. You doubt you’d get the same grace if you fucked this one up, especially considering it concerns one of his executives. Sure, you’ve managed to weasel your way out of your previous cases without much trouble besides your inherent workload. The problem this time is your client.

Ugh. Na Jaemin. That bastard. How dare he decline your visitation request when his freedom is on the line here? You need to brief him for the trial, make sure he doesn’t do anything fucking stupid that would jeopardize your case and fuck not only himself, but you over as well. His freedom isn’t the only thing on the line. Your record is. Your freaking license is. As much as you really don’t want to see his face again, you have to. And the only comfort you can find at the prospect of meeting him again is the very clear evidence that he does not remember you— whereas your bones are already shaking at the mere thought of having to face him again.

It sucks. This sucks. But even if it does, you force yourself out of the office later in the afternoon to meet the witnesses’ lawyer at a cafe downtown.

His name is Jung Sungchan from the District Prosecutor’s Office. He’s baby-faced. He still has the light in his eyes. You’ve never even heard of him before this case. Meaning, he’s far too irrelevant to have the gall to strut into the cafe, say his piece, then leave without even buying a freaking coffee.

“See you in court, attorney.”

Of course this meeting ends the same way as your other meetings have had: no settlement, no compromise, no nothing. You release a scoff once he sees himself out with a cocky ass grin and a pep in his step. Hah. Fucker thinks he’s winning. This bitch is a toddler in the field compared to you. You’re gonna show him just how ruthless the law could be in the hands of someone that could bend it. He has no idea what’s coming for him.

You pull out your phone. You text Mark a go signal. [Give me an update tonight]. You stare at your string of texts you’d just sent, squint, contemplate for a second, then bring up your phone to your face. [Also, please send a message to your locked up exec that I really have to meet him soon. Tell him to stop rejecting my visitation requests. Please. For the love of god]. You hit send again. You exhale. That does it. You fix up your things and prepare to start leaving.

While you make your way to the cafe’s exit, you unfortunately overhear a conversation. Not that you’d even tried to overhear. There are two girls sitting next to the counter— one with straight black hair and blunt bangs, the other one with a very bad bleach job— and they’re both just talking really, really loudly.

“That’s what you get for fucking my man, you tramp,” sneers the fake blonde.

“I’m telling you, I really didn’t know he was taken!” straight hair screeches back.

Oh, fuck. You didn’t want to hear this drama. You try your best to maneuver past them quickly, quietly, but you end up hearing more information as you walk by. “I already broke it off and apologized! Please just take down the post already—”

“There’s no way you didn’t know, and there’s no way in hell I’m taking your disgusting texts down. All your friends and family deserve to know how much of a dirty, manipulative skank you are. So that they’d know to keep their boyfriends away from you!”

“Look, I’d get down on my knees to apologize, but you posted not only my private texts, but my fucking nudes were in them, you bitch! I’m not fucking proud of hooking up with a man I didn’t know was taken, but you’re going too far! I—I could sue you for this!”

“Hah! As if! If anyone, I’m the victim in this situation! Not you! You’re the affair partner who seduced my man!”

Goddammit. You jerk back after a sudden stop six feet away from the exit. You shit your eyes, mutter a silent breath as you continue to listen to the high-strung argument behind you. Normally, you’re not one to butt into these things. It’s none of your business, and quite frankly, you could give less of a fuck. But maybe it’s because you’ve yet again been subject to do something that desecrates the very principles of your occupation— the very notions of what is just and lawful and good— that you find yourself spinning your heels and stomping back into the opposite direction before you could even reconsider.

“Excuse me. I apologize for interrupting without consent, but I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation.”

You just want to balance out the scales of your negative karma— even by just a little bit. You’re doing this for no one’s good but your own. The two girls snap their heads at you, one visibly more annoyed than the other. You gloss over it.

“The right to privacy of communication is heavily protected by our laws and Constitution,” you begin. Blondie furrows her brows at you, a loading symbol practically spinning above her head. Straight hair looks at you, confused. You keep a straight face, digging into your bag. “Prying into the privacy of another’s conversation is a civil offense and a cause of action for damages. That’s one thing. Posting someone else’s sensitive and explicit conversations is another story.”

You pull out a card. “Who the hell are you? Why the hell are you butting in?” she snaps, the sound of her chair scratching the ground as she stands up in a huff to level you. You set your business card down onto the table, the words ATTORNEY AT LAW, all caps, facing right side up.

Blondie’s eyes look down. Her face pales. Then she looks up to meet yours. You almost snort.

“It is a criminal offense punishable by three to seven years imprisonment, or a fine not exceeding twelve million won. Or both.” You could very well be jumping the wrong ship here, but you got a fair sense that Blunt Bangs was telling the truth from how desperate she looks, and that Fake Blonde is simply high on a vengeful power trip over the wrong person. “And, considering the fact that you publicized it online through a post, if I heard correctly, it would also be considered a cybercrime. Meaning, you could be charged for both.”

You didn’t think she could get any paler. You’re proven wrong.

“Wow. That’s an impressive feat considering you had no idea you were committing those crimes. Amazing.”

It doesn’t take much longer for her to sputter out something incoherent and stomp out in a panicked frenzy while mashing something onto her phone, most likely trying to delete the post. Sometimes witnessing firsthand the dredges of humanity gives you a little bit of comfort that you’re not the shittiest person in the world. You release a breath, readying yourself to leave once more, only to be stopped by a quiet excuse me from the same table.

You look down. You’re met by the way too happy smile of Blunt Bangs. She looks cheerful. Oh, god. You’re not used to this kind of positivity. You feel a shudder down your spine and force down a lump in your throat.

“Hi,” she starts. “Thanks for helping me. Jeez. What a psycho.”

The girl asks if she can buy you a drink as a thank you. You have not known kindness ever since you started working at JSS, and, by proxy, Nalkkeutta, so you were possessed with the inclination to say yes even though you’ve just had an americano with three shots. You settle with a warm jasmine tea to spare your stomach lining. The girl introduces herself as Natty, and starts giving you an unsolicited rundown of how Fake Blonde just suddenly started sending her swears and death threats the other day alongside the revelation that she was apparently her fling’s girlfriend.

She came here all the way from Mapo just to apologize again and beg her to take down the post. And then you witnessed how that went down. “I really had no idea,” she huffs in complaint for the nth time. You take a sip from your half-empty cup, glancing at the time. It’s 4 p.m. Sweet. Doyoung still thinks you’re having the meeting right now. One more hour before you have to clock out. You decide to pay a bit more attention to Natty as a thank you for allowing you to slack off on the job. “Oh, by the way. Can I ask something?”

You set down the cup on the saucer. “Sure.”

“Did you maybe go to Ganghak High School? Around eight to nine years ago?”

And then you nearly choke on your own fucking spit. What the hell? You stare at her, wide-eyed in both surprise and innate fear. “Why...why do you ask?” Natty takes that a yes and immediately lets out a squeal, followed by the squeal of your name, followed by a very slow process of recollection on your part of a girl with similar blunt bangs in your repressed high school memories— then it clicks.

“I recognized your name on your business card, but wasn’t sure if you were the same person! Whoa! You’re a lawyer now! That’s amazing!”

Blunt bangs. Dark hair. Sharp eyes. Pretty smile. You remember being classmates with a girl with that same description. You think they both have the same name. You don’t get the chance to second guess yourself because she starts talking about more people you vaguely remember in Ganghak— the class president who’s apparently on his third try at taking the Civil Service Exam, that one couple who apparently recently got married just two months ago in Jeju, that one kid who had once gotten his head dunked into the trash can on the first day of senior year because he came in without knowing the rules of the school.

He didn’t know who ran it. You did. Natty did. And that confirms the fact that you two had indeed been in the same hell once.

“Hey, do you have any idea what happened to Na Jaemin? I haven’t heard a single thing about him since we graduated and I moved towns.”

You look at her, a stiff smile on your face. She was your classmate. She was his classmate. If she can remember all those other people and what their roles were back in Ganghak, she’d very clearly remember yours as well. “I don’t know. I haven’t heard about him either.”

Natty gets the realization and immediately flinches out an apology. “O—oh, haha. Sorry. I didn’t mean to bring him up.”

“No, it’s alright,” you hum, smile softening. “I haven’t heard of him, either.”

Christ. This man really haunts you everywhere you go. Natty is great at conversation, and manages to smooth over that one bump as quickly as she can and proceeds to ask about any new hot places at Yeongdeungpo, ask about your job, you asking about what she’s up to in turn under it hits five in the afternoon and you have to return to the firm to clock out.

The both of you exchange numbers. You look at Natty’s saved contact on your phone with conflicted feelings.

Now that you’ve managed to slot the memories into place, you do in fact remember her. She was your classmate throughout the two short years you spent at Ganghak. On your first day, she was the first person who’d come up to talk to you— the only time she’d ever talked to you and vice versa. It took nine years for the both of you to have a conversation again. And there’s really only one person to blame.

*‎

(“Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit—!”

It’s Monday. You race down the now emptied hallways, eyes quickly scanning each door label that you zoom past in the off chance that you got carried away running and missed your room. To think this is how your year starts. You were looking forward to using the opportunity before homeroom to introduce yourself and make some new friends, but no— you just had to doze off because you spent the entire yesterday unpacking.

It’s a new neighborhood, new school. You’ve heard that most of Ganghak High School’s students came from Ganghak Middle, meaning almost everyone already knows each other here. They’ve already formed their respective cliques and cohorts and groups. You’re currently an outsider, and you need to put in the effort to change that. You need to make a good impression to get some god damned friends and not spend the rest of your two years here as a loner.

Which is why you feel a splashing wave of relief drenching your bones the moment you make it to your assigned class for the rest of the year— slamming a palm against the door, just in time for the bell to ring.

“Whoo! Safe!”

At least fifteen sets of eyes immediately zero in on you. You stand there by the door. You smile and nod.

“Hi, good morning.”

No one responds. They all look at you— some stares lingering longer than the others— but they all eventually divert their eyes before five seconds, releasing what you could only assume were sighs of relief, and then proceed to drown the classroom in a silence that’s so, so unnatural for a large group of fifteen to sixteen year olds.

That should have been your first sign that this school was far from normal.

What a great start, you mentally huff, scanning the classroom the seat you’ll be stuck with for the next two years, and you eventually clock a pair of empty desks in the middle of the back row. You walk over to the available seat, waiting to see if anyone calls out saying it’s theirs, and after a few moments of no objections, you sit yourself down on the wooden chair.

The moment you hook your bag on the left side of your new desk, you swore that the heavy silence pervading the classroom just got heavier.

You look up. You see someone from the center row, peeking over her shoulder at who you assume is you with a somewhat nervous jitter— as if she’s having an argument with herself in her own head and for some reason, you’re involved. That should’ve been your second sign, but despite your confusion and frustration, you sit still. You sit still until one side eventually wins the girl’s mental argument and she rises up from her seat, tentatively stalks up to you as the class’s eyes follow her short walk with anticipation, including yours.

“Hi, uhm,” she practically squeaks out, hesitant, eyes quickly flickering over to the classroom door before looking back at you. She inhales and smiles. Her bangs are covering her eyebrows. “I’m Natty.”

You greet back and introduce yourself. This is a really fucking weird first interaction, but you take what you can get. “Hi.”

The expectation would be that she’d ask you if you’re new here, if you’re a transferee, if you’d like to join her and her friends for lunch, but no.

Natty completely diverts your expectations by saying, point blank, “This may sound weird, but…you should maybe pick another seat.”

You blink. What the hell? “Why?”

The answer comes in the form of the sound of the classroom door violently swinging open, followed by a series of hushed exclamations, and Natty’s suddenly paled face snapping away from you within the same moment, scampering to return back to her seat at the center, without even giving you the grace of a response.

You didn’t think the room could get any quieter, but it does, even with the sound of graveled footsteps marching their way over to you— the only thing you can see of the late student’s arrival because for some damn reason, everyone has their head down, and you felt compelled to follow and shut up and catch up to your confused and bated breaths as you listen to the chair next to you screech against the tiled floor, and feel the presence of someone plop themselves down with a rattle and grunt, and at that moment, you feel like you were given the subconscious permission to look up again.

So, you do.

And when you do, you immediately lock eyes with Natty. Sorry, she mouths with a hand up her cheek, then just as quickly turns back to the front, leaving you to think— what the hell just happened?

Hesitantly, you crane your head to the right, sneaking a glance at the person who just yanked the atmosphere down into hell with just his arrival, the person who you’d be stuck with for the rest of the year by virtue of your seating arrangement.

Much to your surprise, you’re not met by a face. You’re met with someone hunched over, a mop of messy hair with his face buried into crossed arms over the desk with an aura that immediately repels you from prodding even an inch closer. You nudge your seat away to the left, making sure not to cross the invisible mark marked by the gap between your two desks. The only sign of life you glean is the rhythmic rise and fall of his shoulders— invisible to anyone but you solely because of proximity— which leads you to the conclusion that he’s sleeping.

Sleeping. Something tells you that it’s better that he stays this way. That something is the sigh of relief from the person sitting right in front of you as your homeroom teacher finally walks in.

At this point, you still haven’t seen your seatmate’s face. The only time you know of his name is during attendance, when your teacher calls out a hesitant, “Na— Na Jaemin…?” after double-taking at her class list, answered by nothing but a heavy silence despite having all seats in the classroom filled. She quickly nods in acknowledgement and moves forward after that. Just who the hell is sitting right next to you?)

*‎

Beyond your control, memories from that time of your life continuously flash behind your eyes as you drive back to the firm. A buzz from your phone momentarily interrupts you. It’s from Mark Lee.

[Thanks, attorney. We’ll take care of Ma Gildong first tonight. You can see Jaemin on Monday, next week 🧑‍🎓].

Na Jaemin on a Monday. You grimace. What a load of crappy poetic irony. You reply with a thanks and a middle finger. Mark Lee beeps back with a bright grin in emoji form.

fire and brimstone (and you’re a moth made of gasoline). © hannie-dul-set, 2025.

#na jaemin x reader #jaemin x reader #nct dream x reader #nct x reader #jaemin x you #na jaemin x you #na jaemin fanfic #jaemin fanfic #nct dream fanfic #nct fanfic #nct scenarios #nct imagines #na jaemin smut #jaemin smut #nct dream smut #nct smut

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liliesformingi · 1 month ago

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"much love, laufey" - a mini series by @liliesformingi. view series masterlist, and outline here.

3. 'valentine' - yunho x reader “i tell him he's pretty too, can i say that?”

author's note: bring me 900 million jeong yunhos right now.

People raised their eyebrows at you for rooming with a guy. “And you don’t have feelings for him?” they’d ask, over and over.

But Yunho wasn’t just a guy, he was your friend. Supportive, protective, kind. He was a comfortable presence, something familiar.

Yunho was studying sports science and physiology at university, but also wrote lyrics on the side. You knew he loved physiology and understanding the human body, but music was what he truly loved, what he spent ungodly hours working at and obsessing over. But it’s not stable enough, he’d sigh, stretching his arms before returning to the essay on human development he’d been procrastinating for the past week.

You were studying psychology, but also took art history classes on the side. Yunho knew art was something you desperately wanted to pursue, but it was the same as it was for him. You took the smart route. Not necessarily the easy one, or the one you liked. You did what you needed to, securing your futures.

Both of you were scared of risking something, messing stuff up.

He’d bring you an iced coffee when he knew you’d forgotten to drink one while studying.

You’d make his preworkout for him to take before he went to the gym.

He’d go out and buy things for you when it was that time of month and you couldn’t get out of bed.

You’d blow dry his hair late at night when he was too tired to do it himself, insisting he’d get sick if he went to bed with damp hair.

He’d comfort you after each failed date, after each guy ghosted you or simply told you “You’re not what I want.”

Basically, you two were cosy.

It had been a quiet day. Both of you had upcoming exams, not for another few weeks, but close enough that it felt real, and both of you had fears of not doing enough. So if that meant going through notes for hours and revising on the sofa while he sat at the dining table, tapping his pen along to whatever he was listening to with his headphones while occasionally annotating a diagram, so be it.

Eventually, you were bored, hungry and worn out.

Yunho had dark circles under his eyes, and you were struggling to retain your gaze on the harsh light of your laptop, but both of you refused to give up. Until you checked your phone and realised it was 3pm, and you were yet to have lunch, let alone breakfast.

“Oh, shit,” you mumbled, standing up and stretching before you made your way into the kitchen. You automatically pulled out two bowls and ripped open a packet of yours and his favourite ramen, setting the water to boil while you chopped vegetables and stirred the soup.

You set the steaming bowl in front of him along with a pair of chopsticks and a spoon. He looked up gratefully, taking his headphones off and shoving his work aside. “Thank you, angel, I’m sorry, I could’ve made myself something-”

“Don’t worry, Yun, it’s fine,” you sat down opposite him, beginning to eat your food. You slurped noodles and yawned, occasionally exchanging the odd comment about work or school. You asked him about his music projects he was working on, and he started off on a vivid explanation about this amazing website of free music samples he’d found. You watched him happily, resting your chin in your hands.

“Sorry, I’ve been talking for a while,” Yunho chuckled. “How’s stuff with you? Got a psych exam coming up, yeah?”

“Mhmm. I just . . . my head’s in it, but my heart kinda isn’t. And it’s a lot of work. I’m tired all the time,” you yawned and stretched. “And my shoulders hurt like hell from sitting so awkwardly for hours.”

Yunho tilted his head a little. “C’mere.”

You stood up and winced slightly, waddling over towards him. He stood up, gesturing for you to sit in his place. You sat down, rolling your neck. He started pressing his hands into your shoulders, upper arms and neck; each movement releasing the pent up tension and stress from your body.

“Feel a bit better?”

“Mm, feels nice, Yun,” you sighed, leaning your head back and looking up at him.

Yunho didn’t know what came over him in that moment. Hands still resting on your shoulders, he leant down, and kissed your forehead.

You gasped a little, body startling. “Yunho, what the fuck?”

“I’m so sorry,” he gasped, immediately redacting his hands from your shoulders. “I don’t know why the hell I did that. Actually, no, I do know, and that’s the problem.”

“Yun-”

“No, let me talk. Please. I like you. Not even like, maybe love, I don’t know. And it hurts, knowing you probably don’t feel the same way and it hurts seeing you go on those dates and get hurt. It hurts seeing you hurt yourself by overwhelming yourself with schoolwork. So maybe I should just go. Maybe that would help.”

“Yunho, shut up.”

He looked a little hurt at that, raising an eyebrow.

“Let me talk,” you replied, eyes sparkling and cheeks a little pink. “I like you too, maybe love. I don’t know either. You just . . . surprised me. But I want you . . . I want you to do that again. But not on the forehead. On the lips. Do it properly, please.”

Yunho walked back over, leaning down and placing a hand on your cheek.

“That I can do,” he smiled.

taglist: @zelinkcrossing @hyunjiiza @zenlackszen @kur0kki @peskybirdysya @nujeskz @jessxxxfwd @xuchiya @bee-gremlin @radblizzardpizzas-blog @matchahintonagar @diekleinesuesse@xh01bri @lunaryoongie @jaehyunluvbot @k1xiara @cloudy-lilly @sunnysidesins @lveegsoi@arcvillie @flqwrlvr @huachengsbestie01 @subby-men-forever @lezleeferguson-120 @mrsminseochoi@alyssajavenss @0sunshinecryptid0@silveritydreams @moonlitarcade| send an ask, dm or comment to be added :)

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mysticbby2009 · 2 months ago

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rivals and revisions (part 1) a rafe cameron series

(masterlist) ; (part 1) ; (part 2) ; (part 3) ; (part 4)

You were already on edge the moment you stepped back onto campus. 2 weeks of absolute hell at home, dealing with shit that you didn’t even want to unpack yet, and now you were back—walking into your economics lecture, completely unprepared for whatever the fuck happened while you were gone.

The classroom was packed, and the second you stepped in, you felt it—eyes darting to you, whispered murmurs. People always looked at you, but today, it was different.

Something was off.

You slid into your usual seat, rubbing your temple, and turned to the girl next to you. "Hey, can I borrow your notes from last week?"

She winced. "Um…"

"What?"

She hesitated. "Nobody really took notes."*

Your head snapped toward her. "What?"

"We kind of just—" She waved vaguely. "You know, usually you take them, and then we just ask you?"

You stared at her. "You’re kidding."*

She wasn’t.

And that was when he spoke up.

"Oh, look who’s back."*

You already knew that voice. Rafe Cameron.

You turned your head slowly to where he was sprawled in his seat a few rows away, smirking like he lived for this moment. "You missed a lot, nerd."*

You exhaled sharply, shaking your head. "Okay. Fine. I’ll just—" You opened your laptop. "—get the lecture slides—"

"No slides."*

You froze. "What do you mean, ‘no slides’?"

Rafe grinned. "Professor said this was the most important chapter of the year, so no slides. No recordings, either."*

You blinked. "You're telling me that I missed the most important chapter of the year, nobody took notes, there’s no slides, and no recordings?"

"Yup."*

"What the fuck is wrong with all of you?" You hissed, your exhaustion catching up with you. "What, you all just sat here, raw-dogging this shit like it was a TED Talk?"

Rafe laughed. "Raw-dogging economics is crazy."*

You glared at him. "Do you have notes, Cameron?"

"Obviously."* He leaned back in his chair, stretching. "But why would I share them?"

You clenched your jaw. "Because I would do it for you."*

His smirk faltered for just a second.

You shook your head. "Forget it. I’ll figure it out myself."*

You pulled out a textbook, ignoring how your hands were shaking. The stress of home, the exhaustion, the realization that you were already behind—it was too much.

Then—

A stack of papers landed on your desk.

You looked up, confused, as Rafe shoved his notes toward you, looking… weirdly tense. "Don’t say I never did anything for you."*

You stared at him. "What’s the catch?"

"Nothing."*

"Rafe."*

He sighed, rubbing his jaw. "You look like you’re about to have a breakdown, and I’d rather win because I’m better, not because you got screwed over."*

You didn’t even have the energy to fight him on it. You just exhaled, grabbed the notes, and muttered, "Thanks, I guess."*

"Don’t mention it."* He hesitated, then added, "Seriously. Like, to anyone. Ever."

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starlight-45 · 8 months ago

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Dating Bllk boys in school! (Part 1)

Featuring: Yoichi Isagi, Meguru Bachira and Rin Itoshi (Part 2 with Hyoma Chigiri, Reo Mikage and Seishiro Nagi)

A/n: don't know where this shit is set. It has their current personalities and still in blue lock. Maybe taking a break from it and go to school for a change. I don't know, okay? (⁠╥⁠﹏⁠╥⁠)

Masterlist here!

~ISAGI YOICHI~

• Yoichi, eh? One of the rare ones who still managed to retain his sanity off field good work-life balance bro.

• Jokes aside, of course he has gotten more confident and takes no bullshit now. A bit oblivious to the popularity he has though, but is given reminders every now and then by the students.

• But aside from that, he is still the sweetheart just like before. So humble and down to earth. Husband material.

• Is a bit shy when it comes to holding hands in the hallways, or anywhere you guys are seen by other students. It ain't like he is scared of anything or anyone.

• Yoichi is simply concerned that you are uncomfortable, and people don't annoy you behind his back. It's very endearing when he tries to explain it. he is just sweet like that 😭

• If anyone does annoy or hits on you, he will curse them and their entire bloodline with the most insane slurs.

• Not in front of you though. Yoichi doesn't want you to stop having that pretty smile of yours, especially because of him.

• While he definitely is a bit reluctant to show affection in the campus for the reasons given above, please don't refrain yourself to do the same.

• Absolutely LOVES when you kiss his cheek or hold his arm where everyone can see you guys! Good. He needs to give those idiots less attention and more on you.

• However, if you are shy/feeling shy at that moment to do anything, Isagi is just internally screaming how cute you are.

• Yoichi definitely yaps about his day to you on the way back to school, about how boring his classes were, about his classmates, etc.

• When he realises he spoke for like 20 minutes without even a second break and has the cutest blush on his face because he got embarrassed about it.

• Apologises right away with that same cute blush and smile, and you're like just looking at him calmly while internally saying "Alright. He's the one. I'm marrying this idiot."

• Is it that obvious that I find this idiot to be the cutest? But again, who doesn't?

• Oh by the way, his academics haven't improved a bit after going to blue lock, in fact they have gotten worse.

• So definitely invites you over to help him with schoolwork as an excuse to spend time with you. Despite grades being useless as hell for him.

• Isagi is truly guilty about it, he really is, but he focuses on how your thighs look in that mini-skirt than your teachings of trigonometry.

• Is good at projects though, with all the research and presentation work. He really doesn't care about his project submission dates but definetly helps you out with deadlines.

• Again, definitely an excuse to spend more time with you! Also no matter what he does he is still freaking useless in revisions for test. 😂

• Also, surprisingly doesn't really make an effort to make new friends in school, just hanging out with you and your circle sometimes.

• He already got soccer, family and you, what else can a man want???

~MEGURU BACHIRA~

• Bachira was initially very hesitant to go back to school, even for a short time. He finally had some friends at Blue lock who understand his passion for the game and he didn't wanna be alone again.

• However his mother convinced him to get a change of environment, and you were there in that school too so he agreed.

• Bachira has also changed a lot since blue lock, now no longer caring people finding him weird and especially so after being with you.

• Now he's more focused on having fun and spending time with you! Yay!

• Definitely waves to you and calls your name like an excited kid from the window of your class when he is going out for PE in the 4th period everyday.

• He doesn't care if there is the strict mathematics teacher or the gossipy students, Bachira does it anyway. Whereas you just wave back, embarrassed.

• Literally this has become a running joke in your class that in 4th period a golden retriever will be there outside the window, even your teachers can't stop their giggling every time he does it!

• Is shameless with PDA, he doesn't care the discipline head in on the round, he can and will hold your hand and kiss you all over in the hallways.

• And you internally curse yourself that you love this golden retriever way too much to actually make him stop doing this you love it secretly too.

• Please keep an eye on him whenever you can because he's very prone to getting into physical fights (doesn't do it too much though. He doesn't wanna get suspended and miss your pretty face).

• However he will go above and beyond if you ask him to beat someone up, maybe a bit too much.

• "Ugh that guy was so rude to me, who does he think he is-?"

"Should I beat that idiot into last week?!"

"MEGURU NO-"

• Whenever you try to teach him concepts of mathematics and science, is asking the most stupid questions. (*someone yells at the author* "There's no such thing as a stupid question!") Okay, okay his questions are....creative.

• "If a right angle triangle is 90°, then is a left angle triangle -90°?"

"Why did I even-"

• This little menance doesn't even do it 'cause he wants to annoy you. He does it because it is his geunine doubts. Which somehow makes it even worse.

• He also doesn't get shy from asking these stupid creative questions in front of the teacher as well. Maybe that's why he spends more time outside the classroom than inside lol

• Even though he doesn't care about others and is a loveable ball of sunshine, he also has his off days.

• Days where he is unsure of himself and the mean comments the other students make behind his back get to him.

• And of course you being the amazing person you are, do everything in your to make him feel better about himself!

• Meguru is your darling, he should never feel bad about being himself! Words truly can't describe how much he is grateful for your efforts.

~RIN ITOSHI~

• Absolutely didn't want to go back to school if it wasn't already obvious. Rin doesn't need a fucking change of environment. He absolutely breathes and lives soccer.

• Not a single second of his life goes when he doesn't want to crush Isagi and his brother and he can't get distracted and absolutely no one can convince him otherwise-

• Except for you. It was pretty easy actually. All it took was a bit of whining, some doe eyes and voilà he was in your school for a few months.

• Doesn't know or care about any of the subjects which are though in this education center. Too lukewarm, he says. Maybe expect for PE, art or english but that's about it.

• Please save him from those stupid calligraphy classes. Please. He'll die of boredom and his hands will fall off. his words not mine

• Instantly becomes popular between everyone, by the way, and why wouldn't he be? Good lucks, talented, and ambitious. However, the other students don't exist for him. He only has his eyes for you and you only :D

• "Haha...you sure catch many eyes huh?"

"I don't care. They spend their time admiring someone for their surface level attributes and are content in that shit. Lukewarm."

• You definitely try to use the excuse of helping him study to spend time with him, but you know he doesn't do anything other than soccer and sometimes English.

• Like. When you call him...

"Hey, can I come over to help you with your assignments, I'm done with mine so-"

"Seriously? Do you think I care about that? If you wanna actually have something exciting then come."

• Ironically helps you study English though, emphasizing on why it's important and all.

• This guy is strict as hell though. Won't let you leave the table until you have solved the comprehension with all correct answers.

• Doesn't care about showing affection in front of everyone, he will do whatever he feels at the moment. Always holds your hand and kisses the top of your head sometimes while doing so.

• Which has you kicking your feet in air, all giggling and happy inside, and while on the outside you're shy as hell.

• Though Rin says he doesn't care and he really doesn't care about other subjects, he still manges to get a decent score! Not a straight A+ or anything but still like a B.

• His ability to comprehend and calculate is pretty good naturally, which is an achievement for someone who doesn't even know how the front cover of the books in the curriculum.

• On chilly days, Rin wordlessly gives you his jacket without a word he doesn't trust you enough to remember getting one.

• Would be sooo offended if you happen to pass by him during school hours and don't wave or acknowledge him. Yes he is aware he doesn't do it either but that's different okay?!

• Would act extra grumpy and aloof, which is unfortunately for him more cute than indimidating.

• Don't fun of him okay? Rin thought you loved him, and here you are not even acknowledgeding his existence you just didn't notice him as you were with a friend.

• Don't worry though, he's back to normal after a hug, few kisses and assuring words in your soothing voice :)

#blue lock #bllk #bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #isagi yoichi #isagi yoichi x reader #bachira meguru #bachira x reader #itoshi rin #rin itoshi x reader

311 notes · View notes

vandalizingyourschool · 7 months ago

Text

im bored im making a note game

10 notes: i finish all the revision i was supposed to do last week without getting distracted (still doing this shit wtf) REACHED

30 notes: i will finish reading Coraline (i've been putting it off for the past month, even though i really wanna read it)(I SWEAR IM TRYING TO FIND MOTIVATION ) REACHED

50 notes: i will stop procrastinating making my noah finnce community (JOIN) REACHED

100 notes: i will try working out for a week and see how it goes (i made the routine i will start working out once I recover) REACHED

150 notes (lmao not gonna happen): i will workout (consistently i swear) for a month REACHED (HUH WTF)

500 notes: not gonna happen but i will start doing graffiti again

tagging some ppl ig: @savi-of-ithaca @aled4laide @rivenantiqnerd @heybuddythatsnotok @helphowdoiusethis @nellzzzzzsblogg @linnyunicornlover @unhinged-as-hell @aloserwholikesheartstopper @is-it-funny-because-its-true @amarawisbey

no more than 3 notes alright guys (I'm looking at you savi)

#notes game

237 notes · View notes

stonedficz · 3 months ago

Text

✰ star shaped ✰ ch. 3 ❛is what i know true?❜

[schlatt x streamer!reader]

ch. 1 / ch. 2 / ch. 4

a/n: this is mostly revised. if you see something - it’s more than likely intentional. like and comment! luv u all! eat up bbs, momma made DINNERRR

You were both up all night.

You were planning. Podcast ideas, videos, scripts, guidelines, blog posts - everything. You planned to make the best of the opportunity you were offered with your favorite person, your crush, your everything. You had so many feelings about him. Parasocial love, deep admiration, all of it. You were obsessed. He was a star.

He couldn’t stop thinking about you.

He didn’t know why. His feelings swirled in his chest, making their way down to his stomach. He played with the hem of his shirt for hours as he sat at his desk, catching up with b-t-s work for things like GamerSupps, his pc company, and his channels. He almost felt anxious. Anxious? Him? Sometimes, but rarely. His stomach twisted in a knot the more the thought of you came into his mind.

“The fuck is wrong with me,” he breathed out heavily, glancing down.

2:00 am

“Shit.” He leaned back in his desk chair. “I’m hungry as fuck, I don’t know why I’m still up, AND I can’t do shit till tomorrow because everything’s fucking closed.”

riiiiiiiiing, riiiiiiiiing, riiiiiiiiing

click

“Ted?”

“Yea bud, what’s up? Everything alright? You never call this late. Hell, you barely call.” Ted tiredly chuckled through the phone.

“Look, iii don’t know man, somethin’ just…” he sighed in confusion, holding his forehead with one hand.

“Genuinely, Schlatt, are you okay? Like do I need to call someone or is this just.. stress?”

“No man, I’m fine. Fuck. I just, did something and I’m not stressed I’m just - God, I don’t even fucking know. I think I’m just hungry. I didn’t do anything BAD, I just, y’know, made a choice and now I’m unsure, I guess.” He sighed, leaning back into his chair.

“As long as everything’s fine, then okay. Go get some grub man. Maybe smoke some weed, if you want. If only you were in LA...” Ted’s voice gradually raised in playful pitch till Schlatt interrupted,

“Alright, fuck you.” He chuckled.

click.

That was how most of their calls went. He got up and towards the kitchen, setting his phone down to grab some leftovers to heat for a late dinner. He looked back down at his phone while his food was in the microwave.

"shit." he ran his hand over his face, hearing the microwave beep. His eyes were locked onto his phone. "What is it with me tonight?" he spun around to open the microwave door and retrieve his dinner, when all of a sudden, he heard a

ding.

His eyes darted to his phone. Who could it be? He didn't have notifications on for anything but friends, and everyone he knew was asleep, or busy.

His eyes squinted.

From here (the microwave) he could see an icon on the notification. Instagram. Now, who would be messaging him at this hou-

He saw the username.

cookkizkill

hey! sorry for sending this message so late, but I got the pod map together. just a bunch of ideas. i'd like your thoughts on them when you get the chance! let me know if you'd be avaliable to call sometime tomorrow (really, today, since it's .. the morning)

He hesitated.

He shouldn't reply now. It was unprofessional. It would make him look bad. Well, maybe not bad, but weird. He shouldn't reply this fast to someone he didn't know.

But he felt like he knew her. Six months of reading messages, having one sided conversations through donos, and watching her youtube videos - it all added up to a perceived feeling of knowing.

"Oh God." he looked down at Jambo in defeat. "I'm a parasocial freak, aren't I, Jambo? Am I just like her?"

"Mow."

"Fuck you too, you little shit." he sighed heavily and picked up his phone.

There was no use in hesitating. If bad things were to happen, they'd happen no matter what they did. The same for good things. His small actions - so long as they were well-meaning - truly were just that. Well-meaning. He had nothing to lose. God only knows he WAS the uncancellable man of youtube, anyways.

cookkizkill

i also wanted to say thank you. i don't want to run you off with any sentiments, but I genuinely appreciate you offering to do a collab with me.

something like this both means the world to me, and has the chance to change my life. I've been watching you for a long time - to have an opportunity like this - something like you were given, makes me really happy and proud of myself. im super excited to get to do this pod!

jschlatt

i appreciate that. You're a sweet kid. We can call in the morning, go ahead and add me on discord @.jschlatt and we'll get to talking. I'll be ready to discuss everything by 11. My lawyer got the papers back from you so everything is good to go.

He could go to sleep now. He was okay. Whatever he felt earlier had mostly dissipated.

You blacked out after reading that text. Literally, from exhaustion and shock, your nervous system just powered down and helped you out. You had been laying in bed thinking about him, this, and all your feelings for hours. Hours. You hadn’t eaten dinner, you were losing your mind, and the worst of it was, you didn’t even take a shower. You were gonna be so pissed when you woke up. Oh, no, you weren’t. You were gonna call Schlatt. How could anything upset you?

Schlatt ate his leftovers and went on with his night, very quickly falling asleep after finally eating.

Eleven a.m. couldn’t come any faster.

You were ready by 9. Dolled up, dressed to the nine, perfectly calculated with notes, thoughts, and words (as well as some fan questions teehee), sweating in anticipation of meeting your favorite person - your role model, etc. You couldn’t imagine what this would be like. You got prettied up just in case it was a video call, but you figured knowing him, it would be audio only. Knowing him..

Did you?

Who’s to say he’s never been true to himself online. Maybe, even theweeklyslap project was simply to provide an alibi. He could be fake. You could be getting scammed. God, that would hurt. You’d drop out if this was fake. In fact you’d probably do meth, if this turned out to be fake. It would rip you apart.

You wished he would rip you apart. If you could even get into the same area code as him, it might satisfy you. There was a growl deep inside of you that wanted him. Not particularly sexually, either, but something that ached. You were desperate. Humiliatingly so.

You didn’t know what it was. His hands? Arms? Shoulders? Posture? Face? Whole body? Irresistible personality? Maybe it was because he acted like a douchebag. You liked douchebags, based off all your ex-boyfriends. Maybe he was as sweet as condensed milk, and he just didn’t show it.

Maybe he was what you wanted. Maybe he wasn’t. You didn’t know - nor did you care. The clock struck eleven, and you saw his user come online. You called at 11:00:30. Thirty seconds past eleven, so as to not be overtly early.

He probably didn’t notice.

He did.

“hiiii!” you exclaimed happily, and sweetly.

“Hello, hello. How’s it going this morning?” he chuckled sweetly. He had a gamersupps shaker in hand. On brand.

(Yeah, he had no clue you were recording this whole conversation. Teehee.)

“It’s so good! I’m so excited! This is an amazing experience, being able to discuss a collaboration with my role model. How is your morning? Have anything good to eat?” your heart was pounding out of your chest. Your hands wrung themselves under the desk you sat at.

“Well, you’re one for small talk, huh sweetheart?” he smiled and chucked. “I had some eggs. They were pretty good. Seasoned ‘em well too. What about you?”

‘oh my god’ you bit your lip as you nodded and ‘mhm’d’, though he couldn’t see you. ‘he’s so.. UGH.’ your stomach flooded with butterflies. It’s everything you hoped it would be, in these first 4 sentences. That is, meeting him.

“Ah, you know me - too busy grinding to eat. I just had a snack.” you smiled and laughed, opening up your notes. You were shaking. Vigorously. Something about this - what was it? You couldn’t quite put your finger on it.

Was he flirting?

No, never. That’s not like him.

Well…

“Take it from me, good meals fuel the soul. You need ‘em to make good content.” he sighed. “Now- why don’t you hit me with your ideas here? Whatcha thinkin’?” he purred slightly. He genuinely sounded excited to talk about this proposed podcast ep.

‘oh my god. his voice.’ you groaned in your mind. This was almost painful. You were given exactly what you wanted, unfortunately. You got your cake.

Now you can’t eat it.

“So - here’s my thoughts.” your voice shook. Oh, God, were you going to reveal your hand? How nervous you were?

“I’m thinking we do a cooking episode. Y’know, how you guys did those video podcasts? But the kicker - we’re at our own places trying to cook the same recipe, seeing who can get it closest to the original picture, and or taste.” your voice continued to shake. The look on your face was, needless to say, scared. You were so nervous. The performance anxiety got to your bones - terminal. You felt like you were drowning in emotion. You could scream, cry, shake vehemently, all the big things.

Well, at least your camera wasn’t on.

“Ooh. Okay, okay. I like the idea so far - Jambo, fuckin’ stop - shit, hold on.” you heard him rustling. “Look at this fucker.”

He turned his camera on.

He held jambo to his chest and face. Your jaw dropped, and your eyes shot open. You were SO screen recording this. Quickly, however, you collected yourself and turned yours on too, snatching your own cat from beside your chair so fast he almost got whiplash.

“OH MY GOOOOODDDDDDD!” you screeched. “I love Jambo!” you shot your head back while you held Jeremy (the cat) on your chest. “I love your cats.”

The next words to leave your mouth would be life or death.

“You like my pussy?” you chuckled, rotating the chair enough for Jeremy’s dumb face to be visible in the camera. This was a terrible, terrible joke to make during your first impression.

His eyes went wide for a split second. Involuntary. You caught it.

He hoped you hadn’t.

He shut his eyes, tipped his head, and jutted out his lower lip in appreciation for the bit. Jambo head butted him.

“Dumb fuck, that wasn’t meant for you.” he scoffed, putting Jambo down. “Anyways, I do like the idea. I think that would be good for my first cameo on your channel - y’know, just to tease the people.” he tipped his head to the side in thought out approval and nodded.

“I appreciate that!” you smiled with your whole face, breathlessly.

‘wait.

first cameo? FIRST? FIRST? WHAT THE HELL DOES HE MEAN FIRST?!’

“You know I gotta ask, though -“ your breath hitched. You couldn’t breathe. You coughed impulsively to try and make yourself have the strength to speak. “What do you mean by ‘first cameo’?” your lips twitched into a small, knowing smile. God, he was easy to read sometimes. You knew him too well parasocially.

“Oh, you know what I mean sweetheart. Don’t play dumb.” He furrowed his brow and looked directly at the image of you on his screen with a small smile, “Your fans - even if there isn’t a million of them - all know you love me. How insane would it be for you to show them you know me? Either way, I’m down to collab more because I have an appreciation for what you do. You stay true to yourself, it’s something to respect.” one hand rubbed his obviously freshly trimmed chops.

‘did he shave to call me? was his plan all along to show his face?

did he want to see mine?’

You were silent. Awestruck. Breathless. All of it. How were you SUPPOSED to react?

“Schlatt, how did you feel - “ you choked slightly. “- how did you feel when you met your idol, Mr. Sark?”

“Like I was gonna shit my pants. Why? Did you shit yours?” he chuckled, taking a sip. He smiled slightly deviously.

“Yeah. It’s all over the floor. Actually, I shit so much that my cat drowned. You didn’t notice, but, earlier he jumped off my lap and fell right into it like it was quicksand. Gone forever.”

He chuckled breathlessly for just a few moments. “What the fuck are you even going on about?” His brows furrowed again as he continued to laugh for, like, no reason.

“You’re fuckin’ stupid. I think we’re gonna get along.”

“I’m glad you feel that way. and YES, I almost did piss myself. This is all just - I don’t know, it’s cool! This is my dream, getting to meet you. It’s insane to me that I was granted this INSANE wish. I feel like I don’t deserve it.”

“Maybe you don’t.” he sighed. “Maybe you’ll never blow up, or get any semblance of a fan base -“ his words rolled of his tongue. He smacked his lips. “but, the opportunity is here. Are you gonna take it? Or are you going to revel in this idea; concept, even, that you just don’t deserve it?

Make the best of it. If this doesn’t help you out, at least you met your ‘idol’, and gained an acquaintance.” he raised his brows as he looked closer to the floor in thought, pursing his lips.

He’s said this before.

To who? He wasn’t the sentimental type, from what you could tell. Not for a stranger.

Is some of this what he told himself all those years ago? When he first blew up?

“You give some good advice. I feel like I’m on theweeklyslap. This is, well, an honor.” you smiled sweetly. The more you talked to him, the more calm you got. You were still excited, but something about him told you that you were safe. “Let’s plan to do this next week? Next Wednesday, if you’re free?”

“You call, and I’ll be ready, toots.” he nodded his head with his brows furrowed in serious sentiment.

He let a small smile crawl onto his face. You knew he was looking at you again.

Your eyes squinted as you smiled in intrigued confusion. “Perfect. I’ll call Wednesday. I’ll send all the nitty gritty details over so you can be really ready.” you nodded back, an even more confused, and apprehensively happy smile spreading across your face.

“See you then sweetheart.”

Click.

89 notes · View notes

tojisbbg · 1 year ago

Text

𝙞 𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙣𝙖 𝙗𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙨

❝secrets i have held in my heart, are harder to hide than i thought; maybe i just wanna be yours.❞

♡ gojo satoru ♡

a/n: writing another gojo smut since the last one i wrote of him flopped. 😞💔

reblogs, comments and likes are always appreciated <3

(also, a lot of you have been dming me and it's honestly so sweet, shoot me a message anytime :D)

content: gojo satoru x fem!reader, reader is extremely horny lol (hypersexual??), sassy gojo (he's a little dick sometimes), fluff, smut, best friends to lovers, not edited.

...

"well, you look like shit." gojo snorted, entering your dorm room as you woke up from your short-lived night's sleep. you let out a yawn, doing that weird whole body shaking thing before sitting up; rubbing your eyes to see your best friend more clearly.

he looked equally worse as you, dark eye bags, chapped lips, arms crossed over his chest along with a scowl painted on his lips.

"thanks, you don't look any less shitty yourself." you snickered, leaning against the headboard as you watched him roll his eyes before making his way towards your bed; sitting on the edge.

"i wonder why." the white haired male grumbled, a small glare thrown at your direction.

"hmm? i don't know what you're talking about." you innocently batted your eyes, making him narrow his eyes.

"i would've been done studying by two in the morning if you would've stopped blowing up my phone every two seconds about how roughly fucking me would help you memorize the formulas better." gojo complained, making you bite back a laugh.

"well, you could've just go on dnd or block me." you shrugged, indirectly calling him a dumbass.

"you threatened to kill yourself if i did that."

"oh."

"anyways, what time did you stop studying and hit the lights?" gojo changed the topic, examining your tired face.

"i don't know, i think five-thirty?" you tried to think hard, but, recently all these nights where you pulled all-nighters have been a blur.

"not bad, i slept around that time too." he sighed, rubbing his temples while wincing in pain.

"hurts?" you asked, hearing him hum in response.

"yeah, i took painkillers before getting here but it's not really helping." gojo groaned before looking at you through half-lidded eyes, his words making you pout.

"well, i can't really help you with that. but, i can offer you some mind-blowing head instead." a smirk tugged on your lips as you threw a wink at him, making gojo look at you with an unamused look.

"this fucking early in the morning too? god, it's barely seven in the morning." he stared at you in disbelief, making you chuckle.

"jeez, i'm kidding. no need to act like you got a stick up your ass all the time." you stretched, while gojo scrolled on his phone through social media along with his emails.

"you gonna do final revisions on the way to campus?" he asked you with curious eyes, making you let out a hysteric laugh.

"fuck no, i stayed up till five something reading and writing notes until my fingers went numb. i couldn't even fuck myself to sleep because of the pain." you casually answered, making gojo's nose scrunch up in distaste.

"fucking hell, y/n, you're filthy." gojo commented, making you laugh before you crawled towards him, sitting on his lap as you pinched his cheeks.

"but you love me." you cooed, squishing his cheeks into a pout as he let you. gojo's arms instinctively were wrapped around your waist to make sure that you don't fall and crack your head open.

"unfortunately." he sighed.

this is how it has always been for you and gojo, his inevitable torture starting from when you both were in diapers. both of your families were extremely close, your mother being high school besties with his mom.

of course, both women decided to continue this legacy by making sure that their children grew up together. so, you've been stuck to gojo by the hip.

gojo's family was extremely wealthy, like filthy rich. his father owned one of the biggest company in all of japan. your parents, however, owned a humble sushi place in kyoto.

nonetheless, gojo never looked down on you or treated you like you were some ant that could be stepped on. he was like your protective shadow, scolding you when you acted out, being there to comfort you when you were down or struggling, and he dealt with all your stupid jokes.

as you both grew older, puberty hit like a truck.

no, not even a truck; like a fucking tsunami.

your body matured and your hormones went absolutely wild. you don't know what the hell happened, but you craved for sexual pleasure so often. after discovering the magic of masturbation, you did the act almost religiously.

your jokes were pure filth, full of suggestive language. it was like the only thing that circled your mind was dick, dick, dick, sex, sex, cum, cum.

no, quite literally.

you were horny almost 24/7 for some unknown reason.

oh, and you were still a virgin. yeah, shocking.

your situation wasn't helped after realizing how fucking hot your best friend became either. gojo began to hit the gym, basically turning into a gym rat in high school as you accompanied him after school every day before heading home together. he became beefy and so fucking tall, nearly 6'4ft.

no wonder why girls in high school chased him like he was the jackpot. well, they still do now that you both attended college.

though he was a pretty face, gojo was smart as hell. well, the both of you are; it was kinda like a mutual academic rivalry you both had. of course, it was all for shits and giggles.

he was a math nerd, meanwhile, you hated the subject with a burning passion. you liked english better, as your reading and writing skills were beyond talented. so, you and gojo made a fair deal, he'd help you with your math homework while you'd help him with english.

sometimes you both would do each others homework when it was time to cram study for other subjects. the subject you both have a common liking towards was science.

people sometimes mistakenly thought that you and the snow haired male were a couple. the truth is, you both were just super close best friends. gojo got used to your dirty jokes and remarks, no longer affected by them, as it was like common language for him now.

"can you eat the damn banana like a normal person for once?"

"why? you wish i was deepthroating the banana in your pants instead?"

"y/n, which outfit looks better? the first or second one?"

"neither, stay naked and let me smash, pleaseee."

"oh my god!! you look so handsome satoru, i'm literally gonna cum on your face."

"look at you wearing that tight black compression shirt, you slut!"

"put on a shirt and cover those tits before i suck them, toru!"

"y/n, i'm at that one plushie store downtown and there's like a bunch of sanrio shit. imma get that one hello kitty headband you were looking last night for you."

"oh my god?? hello, what the fuck, i'm literally gonna let you say hello to my kitty, toru. ugh, i love you so much."

"do you need help on doing your sit-ups? i could hold your legs down."

"yeah, but don't come too close or else my pussy is gonna start pulsating your name in morse code."

"i don't know what to get you for christmas, y/n."

"how about you lathered up in coconut oil and wrapped in a cute pink coqutte bow under my tree?"

"you horny fuck, oh my god."

"you idiot! i don't care if they taste bad, i told you to suck on those cough drops to help you soothe your throat."

"but i'd rather suck your balls, satoru."

"for the love of god, seek therapy."

"sex therapy with you?"

"you gonna stay on me forever or get ready for class before we're late for our last final exam?" gojo playfully pinched your side, making you yelp as you rubbed the site.

"jerk, i was thinking about how this is the perfect position for me to cockwarm you." you said, earning a flick to the forehead.

"you got ten minutes or i'm leaving you." gojo ignored your whines, standing up with you still clung onto him like a koala.

"satoruuu, i don't wanna go! they're gonna brutally torture me for the next hour based on organic chemistry." you dramatically cried into the crook of his neck.

"the school is gonna kick us out if we don't take this exam, y/n. it's worth like sixty-five percent of our final semester grade. besides, we both studied hard for this. you'll be okay." he rubbed your back comfortingly, making you pull away with a huff.

"you have enough money to buy the entire university, satoru."

"my dad is gonna burn me alive, y/n."

"okay, fine! i have a better solution. how about we start an onlyfans? you know, we both could occasionally do solos or you know... fuck each other too! like-"

"no."

"satoru!! hear me out." you tried to reason, but gojo knew it was all bluffing and you just wanted to stall. so, he forced you down from his hold, making you stand on your feet as you looked at him with a glare.

"ten minutes, you big baby." gojo said before leaving your room.

---

it felt like you just survived a war, coming back home with nothing but trauma written all over your face.

what the fuck was that exam?

all those hours of studying this entire week, sleepless nights, missing meals... all gone to waste?

you punched in your lock combination on the small keypad outside your dorm room, hearing the small beep as the door unlocked. with a twist of the knob, you opened the door and entered. you saw the familiar pair of shoes by your door, not paying much mind to it as you kicked your own shoes off to the side.

you saw gojo leisurely laying on the couch, mindlessly scrolling through his phone.

"when did you get here? the exam didn't start until eight." you asked, your voice barely audible from how exhausted you were, physically and mentally.

"like fifteen minutes ago. my proctor started the exam like twenty minutes early by accident, since the clock in that room was broken." he explained, making you nod your head as you walked to the couch.

you tapped his long legs, ushering him to bend them so that you had space to sit. a moment of silence graced the atmosphere, neither of you uttering a single word.

"it was shit." you both blurted out at the same time, looking at each other with equal shock.

"you too?!"

"fuck yeah. i mean like, what kind of formulas were those?!"

"i know right?? it was like another language, completely different from the review packets."

"man, i should've just given up and fucked myself to sleep. at least, i'd get some good sleep."

"bro, you and fucking yourself. one night without having your fingers inside your pussy won't kill you." gojo sat up, shaking his head in disbelief that your concern was something so ridiculous.

"uh, yeah it will since you're clearly depriving me of your dick." you retorted, making him roll his eyes.

"whatever. what are you gonna do now?" he asked, leaning towards the small table to grab his water bottle, opening it to take a sip.

"have rough kinky sex with you." the words casually flew out of your mouth, catching the snowy haired male off guard as he choked on his water.

"i'm being serious!" he said in between his coughs, watching your laugh at his reaction.

"i'm gonna sleep, what else, idiot? i need my brain to rest and recover from all that trauma. besides, we do this every time when it's finals season, satoru. you got amnesia or something?" you joked, patting his back to help him stop coughing.

"sorry, my brain is malfunctioning. my dorm or yours?" gojo asked after clearing his throat.

"since you're already here, let's sleep in mine. i'm gonna go change into something more comfortable. if you wanna change out of those, there's a spare pair of your sweats and t-shirt in my closet." you informed him, making him nod as you both got up and headed towards your bedroom. you grabbed your clothes and headed into the bathroom to freshen up and change into them, giving up your bedroom to have gojo change.

after finishing up, you walked back into your room, seeing gojo already inside your bed; looking like he was half dead. you snorted, walking over to the other side before placing yourself on the empty spot.

"don't hog the blanket, or else i'll kill you."

"no promises."

with that being said, you scooted closer to gojo, in need of feeling his body's warmth against you. it wasn't anything new, this was sort of a tradition you guys did after finals week was over. you both slept for hours together.

you threw your legs over his waist, tugging onto gojo's shirt as he laid down while facing the ceiling.

"hold me, 'toru." you mumbled, your movements slightly bringing him back to life. gojo groaned in annoyance, turning his body to now face you as he wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you into his chest.

"better?" he spoke into your hair, which was slightly tickling his nose. you nodded your head, your cheek pressed against his chest as you inhaled his scent.

gojo always smelled sweet with a mixture of expensive cologne.

a few minutes passed, and you could hear his heartbeat slowing down, indicating that he was falling asleep.

"hey, you awake?" you poked his cheek, making his eyebrows furrow.

"no." gojo murmured, eyes still closed.

"you know, satoru, if you jerk off before going to sleep then your sleep is gonna be like ten times better. science says it helps release stress and improves blood flow. if you want, i can jerk-"

"go to sleep, y/n." gojo sternly cut you off along with your wonderful visual of how you'd jerk him off, giving your thigh a light smack before resting his hand there. you let out a small whine, playfully biting his cheek.

you saw gojo's eyes scrunch, making you sigh.

"sorry." you mumbled to yourself, as gojo most likely didn't hear you since it seemed like he was already asleep. you pressed a small kiss on the spot you bit before snuggling into his neck. your arms and legs tightly wrapped around his body, fingers finding home between his snowy locks.

"it's okay." was the last thing you heard before you were no longer able to resist sleep.

---

gojo stirred in his sleep, mumbling incoherent words as he felt the constant buzzing noise vibrating on the bed. he painfully opened one eye, half-lidded, as he realized you were still tightly tucked way in his arms. you snored softly against his chest, lips pouted, making him tempted to kiss you.

the snow hair male tried to find the source of the buzzing sound, grabbing a hold of his phone only to see that his phone was dead. gojo's eyebrows furrowed in confusion 'cause then what the hell is it?

his eyes landed on your phone which was shoved under your back and gojo momentarily saw your screen flicker open. bingo! it was your phone that was annoyingly going off.

gojo grabbed your phone, deciding to silence it for you, even though you were passed out like you're dead; so you most likely didn't hear it anyways. but, he was a light sleeper and your stupid phone was keeping him awake.

as the screen flickered open again, gojo saw that you had well over a thousand notifications. his eyes widened, you were never the type to be social. of course, you weren't a loner or something of that sort; you had friends whom were also gojo's friends.

but, the both of you kept your friend groups small and restricted so avoid any unnecessary drama.

"tumblr?" gojo mumbled under his breath, knowing that it wasn't his place to snoop around. but, he couldn't help but feel a little jealous. the notifications were all indicating that people hearted a post you made along with commenting hearts and all that shit.

a weird feeling bubbled inside him, something in between the lines of possessiveness and anger.

so, he decided to investigate, knowing that it was wrong but he couldn't help himself. it was convenient that his face id was added onto your phone, just like how yours was added onto his. after unlocking your phone, he found the tumblr app.

at first, gojo thought it was a dating website as it sounded very familiar to tinder. but, he would soon be proven wrong as he saw a feed full of different blogs and writing.

gojo's curiosity ran wild, silently exploring the new waters he was introduced to. he clicked on your notifications list which was flooded with heart and comments.

not any comments, but horrendously down bad thirsty comments.

sanemiswh0re: ahhh author!! i'm literally running laps, this was so good!

localbbg: this was pure filth and i loved every word of it!

cherrytones: hello?? i need a toru in my life! a tear just ran down my thigh.

yourhotgf: bro wtf, white haired men 🔛🔝 of me!! toru with that big dick energy?? lord, i need him in me so bad.

gojo's eyes widened at the comments while he scrolled. toru? it's a silly little nickname you've been calling him ever since you were kids. since when did you write stories? and... they were about him too?

he clicked on one of the comments which led him to said story, making him smirk as the naughty photo used in the border was enough to give him an idea. gojo settled in bed comfortable, with you still wrapped around him, without a fucking clue of what that menace just found.

"jesus.." gojo breathed out in shock, reading the pure filth you wrote of him and the 'y/n' used in the story, but he assumed that she was based off of you. it was no use denying it, the male character toru resembled too much of his personality and the female character y/n resembled you a lot too.

he wasn't even halfway done yet, but it seemed like you wrote an entire hour long porn script. your writing was so descriptive, describing the sex scenes in such a pornographic yet sensual way. gojo would be lying if he said it didn't make his heart flutter and cock throb.

were your fantasies of him always this dirty?

did you always want to be manhandled by him? praised and teased? being slutted out? a mix of a gentle dom that was a little witty?

god, where did you hide all of this?

of course, you were never ashamed of your vulgar comments and jokes that you threw at him. but, gojo always brushed them off because he grew accustomed to it. however, this was completely new to him.

your smutty writing of him and you made him feel hot and bothered. he knew you were dirty, but not this dirty.

you began to wiggle in his arms, stirring awake as you made a few groaning sounds.

"hmm, time... toru." you groggily asked, eyes still shut as you waited for a response.

"it's 8:23." gojo replied, still not bothered to place your phone back to where he found it. instead, he continued to surf through your dashboard to which he found more of these smut of him.

"why are you awake so soon?" you yawned, cracking an eye open only to wince from the sudden light exposure.

"had a leg cramp." he lied, making you grimace.

"ouch, you should've waken me up then." you commented, your hand find his as you played with his really long and thick fingers. it was a habit to toy around with the rings that wrapped around them.

"you looked too peaceful to disturb. besides, i found something to read in order to kill time." gojo boldly said, making you hum in amusement.

"oh? and since when have you been a bookworm? please, do enlighten me." you teased, making him chuckle. a smirk etched onto his lips, trying to collect his words before attempting to send you into cardiac arrest.

"it's actually very interesting, i have to say. i never thought i'd be into erotic romance." he started out, and the very unexpected words leaving his mouth made your heart pound inside your chest.

he was reading that shit besides you and you had no clue?

"jeez, and you call me a horny dog?" you scoffed.

"well, maybe it's torusluvr who's the real horny dog." he dropped the bomb, making your heart stop it's usual cardiac rhythm as you heard your tumblr account's username. you shot awake from bed, eyes meeting his playful ones as the color drained from you face.

"what? how did you-" you were a stammering and confusing mess, searching for your phone until you looked at his hand.

"looking for this?" gojo waved your phone, the screen on full blast lighting and filled with words of nothing but sex.

"give me my phone back, satoru." you panicked, trying to grab your phone from his grasp. but, gojo's body structure was stronger, bulkier and taller than yours; so you struggled.

however, gojo took your struggle as a form of amusement. he noticed how your face was covered in a blush from being caught red-handed, movements so shaky and alarmed.

it was kind of cute.

"nuh uh." gojo suddenly tossed your phone to the side before grabbing both of your hands. a yelp escaped from your lips as you were pinned to the bed in mere seconds, gojo's body hovering above yours as he slotted himself between your legs.

you gulped nervously, your cheeks growing warmer as it suddenly felt too embarrassing to look at gojo in the eyes. you were a mere ant compared to his body, his stature standing at six feet four inches, and his body was beefy as hell yet so soft to the touch.

"does this turn you on, y/n? hm? being manhandled by someone who's twice your size." the white haired male teased, his husky voice due to his previous slumber sent heat waves to your cunt.

"satoru-"

your words were cut short as gojo leaned closer to you, grinding his hard on against your throbbing cunt, making you gasp.

"satoru? what happened to toru?" he whispered, shoving his face into the crook of your neck, taking a minute to inhale the scent of your perfume which has been permanently engraved into his senses and brain.

"stop joking around, we're friends... best friends." you tried to reason, watching his eyes darken.

"oh? and do all best friends write porn worthy shit about each other?" gojo snickered, pressing soft kisses along your jaw. your throat went dry, words getting stuck.

"i guess we can't be best friends anymore 'cause i wanna recreate all that shit that i read— with you." a smirk tugged on his lips and before you could even process what the hell was about to go down, you let out a small whimper after feeling him bite down on your collarbone before peppering soft kisses on the abused skin afterwards.

"toru... please." you desperately begged, needing some kind of friction between you and him to relieve the ache between your thighs.

"i bet if i touch that cute little pussy of yours, my fingers are gonna come out glossy wet, yeah? should we test it out, y/n?" gojo continued to pester you with his teasing remarks, making you blush further at them as you were to embarrassed to have him find out about the wet patch that was created on your panties by now.

you shyly nodded but this wasn't enough for gojo to take for an answer. you felt a small pinch on the plush flesh of your thigh, making you wince.

"use your words, y/n. you didn't shy out when you were right all that stuff about me and you." he scoffed, making you whine in embarrassment.

"touch me, toru... i need to feel your fingers." your voice was meek, throat getting dry as you desperately bucked your hips upwards. gojo cocked an eyebrow, watching your body squirm underneath him in amusement.

"so needy." gojo laughed, rubbing your thighs before giving it a small squeeze. your body grew warm and your face flushed red from his touch. you've fantasized about this moment for so long and now it was finally happening.

gojo's fingers hooked on the waistband of your shorts about to pull them down until your hand came down to stop his movement. he was a little confused and felt a little guilty because he didn't know if he was moving too fast for you or made you uncomfortable.

"you okay?" gojo asked with genuine concern washed on his face. you bit down on your lips, averting your gaze from his.

"i'm not wearing any lace and my panties aren't even matching with my bra." you said in a little panicked voice. gojo was a handsome jerk and this most definitely wasn't his first time sleeping with someone.

you saw his hookups, they were always the prettiest of the prettiest girls. they looked like polished gems, wearing fancy feminine clothes in contrast with your hobo looking outfits, hair and nails were always done... they were like runway models.

you couldn't help but feel a little insecure. you knew that satoru was different, but that small part of you still felt like perhaps this was still some kind of cruel joke the universe was playing on you.

the books you read always gave the female lead a perfect body free of blemishes, wearing expensive and sexy matching undergarments and so much more.

while here you are with unmatched undergarments, a completely inexperienced virgin who only knew how to shamelessly masturbate to find relief while fantasizing about her best friend.

"hm? so what? they're coming off anyways, princess." gojo reasurred you with a soft smile, leaning in to press a soft kiss on your lips. without hesitation, you wrapped your arms around his neck, indulging in the sweet taste of his lips. he used the strawberry carmex lipbalm religiously.

the kiss was slightly messy, as you were still a little inexperienced in this area as well. you can't remember the last time you last made out with someone, so your teeth clashed with his here and there. but, gojo never complained, he drank in your mistakes and guided you with the fluid movement of his lips and tongue.

the white haired male gave your bottom lip a gentle bite, one of his hands grabbing your jaw to keep your head in place while his other hand pulled down your shorts. gojo threw the annoying article of clothing on the floor, pulling away as a string of saliva connected the both of you.

he looked down and if it was possible to get any harder than how hard he was right now, gojo thought he might've exploded already. you laid under him like a pretty gem, face flushed and your lips swollen as you panted a little from the breathless kiss. a small grin tugged on his lips, the hand grabbing onto your jaw now coming to stroke your cheek.

"just relax for me, princess. let me show you just how much better reality is than your little stories." gojo whispered, leaving open mouthed kisses on your jaw that were leading south until he was peppering kisses on your neck.

you decided to take a leap and pull your t-shirt off, catching gojo off-guard by your sudden eagerness. a genuine smile was forming on his lips at how adorable you looked. your cotton panties had a strawberry pattern on it with a tiny pink bow on the front and your bra was a solid blue color; both of which satoru is well familiar with as the two of you did your laundry together.

"stop staring." you embarrassingly pouted, making him let a raspy chuckle escape his lips.

"can't help it when my best friend is this cute." he teased, pinching your cheek which made you yelp.

"shut up and go back to what you were doing." you nagged, making him cock an eyebrow.

"oh? eager are we?" gojo hummed, skillful fingers whisking your bra off in a matter of seconds, your tits spilling out of the cups that held them. you averted your gaze from him after seeing how gojo's eyes widened, feeling your face grow hotter by the second.

"look at me, y/n."

"no."

"look at me."

"eat my ass."

"i will."

"satoru!" you gasped, finally looking at him as his response caught your attention. however, gojo didn't pay too much mind to it as brought a hand down to fondle your tits, watching how you bit your lips at the sudden squeeze.

"don't look away from me, baby. you're such a pretty girl, so let me admire you for a bit, yeah?" with that being said, gojo latched his lips onto on of your nipples, making you whimper.

"shit.." you moaned, feeling the tip of his tongue flicking the sensitive swollen bud. he peered up to meet your eyes, looking so fucking pretty even with a mouthful of your tits. his stupidly charming blue eyes staring into your half-lidded eyes. you brought to stroke his cheek as he continued to suckle on your nipple.

"pretty boy." you cooed, feeling his hand kneed the plush flesh of your thighs before giving it a little spank, making you squeal. being the tease he is, he gave your nipple a gentle bite before releasing the bud with a 'pop' sound.

"you wore my favorite panties." gojo complimented, making you scoff.

"stop saying that to make me feel better about my mix-matched undergarments." you rolled your eyes.

"you could think that my words are lies but it still won't change the fact that i jerked off with those same panties." he shamelessly shrugged after revealing such a dirty secret, making your mouth gape open.

"huh?!" you were at a loss for words, but, for some reason it made your pussy throb at the thought of your hot best friend masturbating to the thought of you.

even if he used your panties.

"mhm... now, let's put them to some use again." gojo pulled down his shorts along with his boxers, completely disposing them to the floor to meet with the rest of your clothes.

your eyes shamelessly came in contact with his cock and you couldn't help but harshly gulp. gojo was fucking hung, not lacking in any area. his dick had to be at least a good seven or eight inches long, a single vein running on the side of the shaft, with a pretty blush pink tip that was angrily leaking with precum.

"feel a little overwhelmed, princess?" gojo sensed your shock, and you truthfully nodded.

"y-yeah... i never-"

"wait, you're still a virgin, y/n?" he genuinely asked and you thinned your lips before nodding. gojo gasped, slapping a hand on his mouth.

"what the fuck? and you wrote all of that with no experience??" gojo was truly amazed as you shyed away from his eyes.

"it's okay if you don't wanna, you know." your throat went dry, a little disappointed that it would end this way.

"fuck you? of course i wanna fuck you, princess. but, are you sure you're okay with me taking your virginity? we could stop and forget about it if you want to, no pressure." he asked in a soft tone, rubbing your hips in a comforting way.

"yeah, i want you to take it, toru. i trust you." you gave him a girlish smile, making his heart jump.

"okay then. i'm gonna prep you real good to make sure it doesn't hurt as much." gojo pressed a tender kiss on your lips. he stroked his cock a few times as a husky groan left his lips, making him sound so sexy.

gojo hooked two fingers to the side of your panties and lifted them up before sliding his cock inside the fabric. you moaned at the feeling of his warm and hard cock sliding past your folds, his wet tip nudging and coating your clit with his precum.

"fuck. you're so wet, baby." gojo breathed out, leaning down to suck on your tits as he continued to thurst his hips back and forth between your folds. your juices lubricated his cock and the stimulation provided to your clit with every nudge of his tip made your eyes roll back.

"oh my god... just like that, toru. please!" you begged, your hand finding purchase to his snowy locks as you pushed his face further to your tits, as he licked and sucked your nipples. gojo's hips never faltered, continuing to glide his thick dick between your slit, feeling your clit throb.

you felt your orgasm building up, making your breath hitch as you whimpered. after a few more thrusts, you gushed on top of his cock as gojo cummed on your pussy, messily spreading both of your juices on your cunt.

gojo pulled his cock out of your panties, seeing how there's a wet patch on the front of your panties. he used his index finger to outline and rub your clit, making you shake from the overstimulation.

"w-wait." you tried to catch your breath but gojo wasn't gonna let you rest until you cummed on his tongue and fingers.

"nope, gotta stretch you out now, princess." he pinched your clit, making your thighs shut close from the sudden impact.

"you little shit." you threw him a playful glare, to which he only stuck his tongue out and use his strong hands to pry your legs open. this time, gojo wasn't going to be so patient. he pulled your panties down and threw them somewhere, his cerulean eyes fixated on your cunt.

"fucking hell." gojo swore under his breath and you couldn't help but think negatively.

"what's wrong?" you asked a little worried.

"i'm trying to hard to not cum again from just looking at this pretty pussy of yours." he groaned, using his thumbs to spread your lips apart, watching how it glistened with both your and his cum from the previous pantie fucking session.

you supported yourself on your elbow as your other free hand pulled his head forward, crashing your lips onto his. you kissed him with need, sucking on his bottom lip before giving it a bite. gojo began to slide his middle finger between your wet folds, making sure to rub your clit at a fast pace.

you moaned into his mouth, which gojo happily drank as he continued to give the neglected bud some attention. his finger stopped at your hole, experimentally shoving it in a little bit. you winced at the sudden intrusion as gojo's fingers were longer and thicker than yours.

"shh.. it's okay." gojo assured, pecking your lips as he entered his finger. your walls clamped down on his finger and gojo couldn't help but groan at how fucking tight you were.

"shit, gonna have to stretch you out quite a bit if this sweet pussy of yours is gonna take my cock. don't wanna rip you apart, baby." gojo chuckled, kissing your cheek before sliding his body down until his face was directly above your wet aching cunt.

gojo licked a fat stripe up your cunt, eyes rolling back at the taste of your pussy. you tasted so fucking good and he knew he'd get addicted. he slurped up all your juices, his tongue circling your clit before flicking it. you gripped onto his hair, pulling his mouth closer to your needy pussy as you basically humped his face.

gojo decided to add in another finger and a guttural moan escaped your throat, feeling him scissoring in the two thick digits in and out of your hole. your legs began to shake at the amount of pleasure you were getting from being tongue and finger fucked at the same time.

"fuck! augh~ i-i'm gonna c-cum!" you moaned as you felt the knot on your lower stomach tighten, your hole enclosing around his fingers as you creamed on gojo's fingers.

"that's it, there you go, princess." gojo praised, drinking up all your cum and licking you clean. your breathing was irregular as you were trying to calm down your erratic heartbeat.

gojo looked up at you with a slutty expression, his lips glossy with his own spit and your cum along with his chin dripping with your arousal.

"think you ready for me, baby?" he teased, placing a playful kiss on your clit before slotting himself between your legs. gojo's hard cock rest on your inner thigh, his eyes giving you a glimmer full of tease and play.

"i think that if you don't put your dick inside me within the next minute i'll kill myself." you dramatically responded, clearly not in the right state of mind due to pleasure fogging up your mind. gojo laughed at your words, leaning in to kiss you.

you could taste yourself on your tongue, but that did not bother you as much as having your throbbing hole empty.

"toruuu~ pleaseee." you whined, bucking your hip up to his in an attempt to get some friction to relieve the ache between your legs.

"my pretty girl needs something, hm?" he continued his banter, making you pout. you trailed your hand down and grabbed his cock, giving it a few pumps and watched your best friend crumble from your touch.

"need your cock inside me, toru." you said in a sultry voice, using the tip of dick to rub up and down your slit, parting your folds. gojo decided to stop being mean and help you, grabbing the base of his thick cock and rubbing it on your dripping wet cunt.

his tip now rested on top of your hole, his eyes looking up at you for further movement. you nodded your head, hands going to the side to grab the sheets.

"it's gonna really hurt bad for a minute but i promise it'll get better. i'll go slow and gentle, 'kay?" gojo offered you a soft smile as reassurance, to which you nodded, fully trusting him to take care of you.

"can you come closer." you asked in a meek voice, and gojo nodded as he leaned forwards so that you could wrap your arm around his neck.

gojo pushed in the fat bulbous tip of his cock, the stretch of something fatter and bigger than his and your fingers immediately burned.

you winced in pain, making him apologize and you told him that it was okay. gojo stayed like that for a little before thrusting the tip of his dick in and out of you to help you get a little used to the intrusion. it took every fiber of his body to have enough self-control to not shove the entire length of his cock inside your cunt and use it like his personal cocksleeve.

"look at me, y/n." he breathed out, making you open your eyes as your eyes were a little glossy. gojo never fucked a virgin before, and you were his best friend, so he wanted to be extra careful to not hurt you.

"i'm sorry." gojo quickly blurted out and you were confused for a quick minute, until you let out a pained cry as he shoved his entire cock inside your pussy inch by inch. he quickly latched his lips onto yours, swallowing your cries as his thumb came down to play with your clit.

your nails dug into his flesh, tears streaming down your face as the stretch of his cock was so painful.

"hurts so much, toru." you sniffled, mumbling your words on his lips.

"it would've hurt more if i went inch by inch slowly. you'll be okay, baby, trust me." with that being said, gojo slid his cock fully out, your pussy missing the feeling of being full. you mewled at the loss of contact, until he slammed his hips back into you, shoving his cock in one go.

within each slow thrust that he gave you, the pain faded away and you were soon drowning in pleasure. your cunt clamped down on his cock, the delicious feeling of the vein on his cock grazing against your wet walls made your eyes roll back.

"such a sweet pussy, fuck you're so tight." he grunted, grabbing your hips in place as his pace was unforgiving. his cock curved and kissed every inch inside your cunt, making you grip the sheets for dear life.

"satoru! i- fuck. wait, it's too much!" you cried out, your vision becoming blurry and you couldn't tell if it was from the tears that were forming due to overstimulation or from exhaustion.

maybe both.

"you could take it, princess. this pussy was fucking made for my cock." gojo moaned, grabbing the back of your knees before pushing them back to your head; placing you in a mating press.

this new angle gave him a better view of your tits bouncing with every thrust along with every ripple of your ass that came in contact with his heavy balls. your free hand came down to play with your clit as the other hand grabbed the back of his head to give him a sloppy kiss.

"feels so good, toru." you slurred, as his cock continued to kiss your cervix, bullying it's way in and out of your aching hole.

"gonna fuck you so dumb, till you become mine." he grinned against your skin, biting down as he placed a slap on your pussy, making you let out a cry.

"please, please, please! i-i'm gonna cum!" you stuttered out, feeling his balls hit against your ass while he continued to fuck your hole. your cunt began to convulse around his cock.

with another thrust, another rub on your clit and a gentle kiss on the side of your neck, you let out the most desperate and needy moan known to mankind as you began to cum around his cock.

gojo began to chase his own high, satisfied with the ring of white cream forming at the base of his cock, fucking you into over stimulation.

"f-fuck, gonna cum. god, i-i love you, y/n." he choked on his words, fingers clawing onto your hips as he gave you one final thrust before release thick wads of hot cum inside your hole.

gojo fell on top of your body with his arms supporting him a little to make sure he doesn't crush you with his weight, cock still lodged inside your wet cunt that was now filled with both his and your cum.

"i... fuck, i love you too, satoru." you whispered, swallowing thickly from how dry your throat was. you stroked his snowy white hair, the both of you breathing heavily as gojo continued to lazily fuck his cum into you.

"you know, i didn't expect you to be a virgin from how horny you are." gojo giggled, making you hum. he rested his head on your chest, playfully taking your nipple in his mouth as he sucked on it.

"well, i guess i got the real life experience now." you gave him a cheeky smile, leaning down to kiss his cheek.

"better than your little books?" his voice was a little muffled due to having a mouthful of your boobs in his mouth.

"mhm, i should write about it." you thought out loud, catching his attention.

"if you have writers block anytime else, just let me know and i'll help you. that's the least i could do for my dear girlfriend." gojo smirked, making you blush at the last word.

"oh? and since when have you declared that you're my boyfriend?" you joked, making him bite your nipple.

"since forever. you're mine now anyways." he pouted like a child, making you laugh.

"fine, so are you finally gonna let me stack donuts on top of it?" you said, making him look at you with a look of disbelief.

"maybe."

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pellowinksx · 2 months ago

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subliminals

ur so hot

challenge success

nicer hands

green eyes

full hips

monthly successes

may 2025

short posts

focus on your desires

"tough love" but you're actually a piece of shit. (not @itsrlymine)

persistance but no results?

your own subconscious mind…

doubts are just your awe for how easy it is.

affirm until you have it.

it's all repetition.

"ignore the 3d"

"affirm from the assumption you have it" is bullshit.

shifting is easy as hell

its really easy man...

all i do is robotically affirm

"just decide"

Give up.

stop trying so hard

persistance

act as if

religious posts

I am not god, I am a believer

ayat from the quran <3

manifest like musa!

"be, and it is."

Allah is the provider

long posts

random things i do as a master manifestor

beginner guide to the law of assumption

the law simplified

stop putting the methods on a pedestal

negative/intrusive thoughts do not manifest.

conscious feelings don't matter.

you make it too confusing

what "imagination is reality" really means

so much misinformation...(feel it real isn't good advice)

sexual epiphany

rants

yes bitch i affirm to get

you make the law so fucking complicated (reblog post)

"trying to feel it real" mini rant #1

"trying to feel it real" mini rant #2

JUST FUCKING PERSIST

specific how to's

how to manifest your ideal appearance without affirming

voice notes <3

just think lol

anons

how do I manifest my dream life?

were you in the state of needing to see your desires?

she begged but she still got it?

How did you do Psych K?

is self concept needed?

struggling with manifesting my dream life 🧸

Manifest my ED away?

Have you manifested anything?

manifest my ideal appearance?

wake up with my dream life?

is fate real?

I just want to experience it on the physical plane

is it okay if I havent manifested yet?

do i need to vibrate and feel it real?

revising death?

a better mindset.

all I have to do is affirm?

how to manifest my sp?

how did you correlate islam to loa?

ever reached mind awake body asleep?

void posts

void state is EASY

you are the void.

successes

manifested long 2c hair

sp success story (keep affirming!)

manifested green heterochromia

lost weight, canceled class

manifested ED away and changed appearance

trusted abilites to shift

moved to a new continent

#masterlist

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escapedaudios · 5 months ago

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Ok, if you're a VA who uses commissions or art from image libraries, I'm gonna give some quick tips on how to avoid getting scammed or duped by AI images. It's getting harder and harder to avoid them. Besides the known visual signs, here's some red flags I've found the hard way.

If I want custom art, I normally commission or request it from people within the audio RP community, but there have been times when I used sites like Fiverr when on a time crunch. I myself almost got scammed there, so here are some easy red flags.

No line art or sketch option available on their pricing list. This is a big red flag. Actual artists usually allow this option.

No work in progress options offered by the seller. Revisions only offered when a complete product has been delivered. Real artists don't do this, and would rather get revision feedback at the sketch stage.

No interest in reference images. They're only interested in prompt input.

If you don't use custom art, be careful. A lot of image libraries are clogged with AI images now too. Most have them tagged. If you use any, be mindful to look for images tagged as AI-generated and avoid those platforms completely. Even paid libraries like Adobe Stock now have more and more AI shit clogging their output. If you're searching a platform like deviantArt and asking the artists permission to use an image of theirs, check their other art. If there's no consistent, discernible art style, they're probably posting AI shit. Avoid them too.

Also, look for all the other tell-tale signs of course, and never hurry. It's easy to get tricked if you just give a cursory glance. I've seen VAs get duped before and I very nearly got duped once on Fiverr before because I didn't look closely at the "artists" portfolio (I was thankfully able to get a refund after fighting tooth and nail for it). I've seen VAs that used to rely on services like Adobe Stock or free image libraries like Pixabay get duped when they started introducing AI to their stock images. I hate that this is an issue now but you have to be careful.

Anyway, I think the best option is to use art from people within the audio RP community. Showcase their work, buy commissions, whatever, just stick with people that you know are real human artists and part of the community. It's hell out there right now.

#ai art #beware #audio rp

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chaoticgenderfae · 4 months ago

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Ok but what if the Sages' misinformation campaign against the desert was accidentally correct, and King Deshret really did come back to life. But, of course, modern Sumeru is disastrously misinformed about the actual relationship between the Three God-Kings. And so instead of the vengeful warlord everyone's expecting, it goes something more like this:

Deshret: "I'm - alive? Ha! Haha! I'm alive, my people are alive! Oh Rukkhadevata, you mad genius, I could kiss you! IT WORKED!"

Eremite #1 (confused): "My Lord...Greater Lord Rukkhadevata is dead."

Deshret: "what? Not, that can't be right. She was fine! Sure, she'd just sacrificed all her power to save my people from my stupid mistakes, but she can come back from that. Unless...er...how long has it been?"

*one confused explanation later*

Deshret: "what do you mean there was a giant Cataclysm"

Deshret: "what do you mean the new God of the rainforest abandoned you?"

Deshret: " what do you mean, you thought we were enemies??"

Eremite #2: "but...she...betrayed you?"

Deshret: "No. Nonono. Where did you get that idea? We were married. Happily. To each other. All three of us!"

Eremites: *surprised_pikachu.gif*

Deshret: "I mean, I may have been dead for 2000 years but come on, we were not subtle! What did you think the entire Dance of Sabzeruz was about? Why do you think Rukkha recreated padisarahs after Nabu died? What did you think was the point of all those love songs I wrote for both of my lovely partners??"

Eremite #3: "none of our histories say this..."

Eremite #1: "...I think we should listen to our Lord. And revise those stories."

Deshret: "right. Looks like I'll have to do something about this horrible miscommunication, then - but, first, tell me about this new God who apparently hates you"

*one incredibly angry explanation later*

Deshret: "Rukkha had a kid? MINI-RUKKHA! Oh my Archons I have to meet her-"

Eremites: *eremite.exe has stopped working*

Deshret: "...but no one's seen her in 500 years? No one knows anything about her?"

Eremite #2: "the Sages don't let anyone see her, My Lord. Or send her letters. Or even know anything about her - even the Akasha blocks any information about her"

Deshret: "and none of you thought this was extremely fucking suspicious?"

Eremites: *visible confusion*

Deshret: "damn it all. I die for a measly two millennia and the country goes to shit. Grab your weapons and come with me"

*some time later*

Deshret: "I'M BAAAACK BITCHES! NOW GET THE HELL AWAY FROM MY WIFE'S DAUGHTER OR I'LL SMITE YOU!!!"

#genshin #sumeru #nahida #rukkhadevata #nabu malikata #king deshret #the three god-kings were a polycule and you will not convince me otherwise #if deshret actually did come back from the dead he'd take one look at modern sumeru and speedrun the entire questline #what happens with irminsul? who knows!#but shuoki no kami is getting obliterated #and the sages? well there's a lot of caves in the desert full of very hungry consecrated beasts #deshret resurrection au

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bendersmind · 20 days ago

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Sister Imperator #3

Not to be daunted by the lack of physical copies (apparently this isn't just a me issue either) I've decided to do this review based on the digital release.

So, despite a slight delay I have been able to read Sister #3. I must revise some of my thoughts once again since our story is still unfolding but one of the big takeaways is, I am starting to suspect that Sister isn’t telling us everything. One of the biggest things I’ve been noticing over and over again is the distinct lack of Satan in pretty much every part of the story. There are also some very notable things in 3 that make it seem like she is obscuring some details. And for good reason, she’s telling her story to a reporter after all.

Here is another GIF for those of you that won’t be reading past the cut because spoilers galore:

So here are a few bullet points of what we’ve learned this issue:

Black haired guy is for suresies Nihil.

Marika is Marika Psaltarian.

Sister’s mother was raised in foster care by a religious family.

The comic takes place after the birth of the twins.

The twins were left with Marika BUT at some point Perpetua was lost.

Nihil was always a douche.

Oh, and another thing that hit me while I was sitting here and typing this shit out: Primo might have been the brother that was referenced in #1 so there are at least some cousins of our twins out there; where the fuck are they? Unless my “Primo is Secundo and Terzo’s dad” theory is correct, which means Terzo and Secundo are those cousins.

Okay, so a big part of this whole shebangabang is that I’m starting to suspect Sister is leaving a whole hell of a lot of shit out. The whole reason I put forth the “fake out Nihil” proposal last time I did one of these was because of the distinct lack of Ghost Clergy shit flying around. If we go by Nihil’s “nine millennia” declaration then the Circus HAD to be the Clergy. Even further, the Clergy predates Christianity. Which, oddly, doesn't conflict with Primo’s interview since he says the current game played by the Clergy was put forth by their opposition at Council of Nicea which means whatever is going on behind this whole shit is really less about Catholicism against its opposite and more about Oppressors against the Oppressed. It just so happened the current form of the Clergy was determined when Nicea happened and Catholicism became the oppressor. Which would actually line up in a really poetic and kinda artsy way that I dig.

Strangely enough a thing I picked up on was Sister telling Nihil to stay out of the way so she didn’t poke him in the eye. Based on the “Dance Macabre” video that is precisely how he ended up with the fucked eyeball; that being said, as of post comic blood orgy Nihil’s eye is still plain ass blue. He doesn’t end up with a fucked eyeball until he gets all dolled up as Papa and that’s probably supposed to be part of the getup. I think that is supposed to indicate to us that she’s shuffling events and obscuring facts.

I’m also going to go out on a limb here and say that her giving birth in an apartment to twins on her own is a flat out fiction. I get how women did that without doctors for a long ass time, but usually you’d have a midwife at least. The only explanation I have for that is that she is using it as a fun little reason as to why the twins don’t have birth certificates. Which makes sense if you know you’re going to be birthing the antichrist(s).

Somehow she is able to take two babies with no papers out of the country and into Eastern Europe after her neighbor gets tired of hearing the babies cry. Again, there is some weird shit going on here and some pretty big details missing. Even in the early 70’s people were fucking nuts about documents. This isn’t the early 1800’s where you could just roll up to a country and say ”Sup? I live here now”.

I think the most interesting, and maybe telling, thing about the way the narrative is structured is that she draws attention away from Nihil having any idea about the murders. Imperator, based on what we see in the comic, is a fucking murder machine. And don’t get me wrong, that shit is common in comics and makes sense if you’re dealing with sleaze bags (side note: the last guy she beats the snot out of before giving birth in the comic looks like Sleazy P. Martini from GWAR and while his look is somewhat generic “70’s sleaze bag” it made me laugh) but I figure the murder spree would be difficult to hide from your partner and his whole band. I think she’s covering for the sacrifices of the Clergy in the US at the time. If she didn’t she’d blow the whole Ghost project to shit.

So where are we? Still fucking nowhere honestly. There is still a lot missing. Honestly it feels like we’re leading up to the setup for additional comics and holy smokes that’s exciting. Who about? Good question. I personally hope it’s the twins getting their own short runs. Maybe the “circus”.

Some predictions that will inevitably be wrong later:

Snake lady steals Perpetua; that’s why the twins got separated.

Snake lady get ganked and Perpetua ends up in foster care with a religious psycho so that’s how we get super weird creature Perpetua.

Sister is in prison at the end of this story.

Nihil finds out about his potential children from whatever article the reporter writes.

Reporter is Dusty Comstock (LOL . . . maybe?).

Unrelated but also related; if Imperator was pregnant at the show in October the twins would have been born in June or July. June happens to be a month-long break in the tour schedule so they won’t be playing any live shows at that point. How much you wanna bet we get a “Copia’s Big Birthday Bash” around or on the day Imperator #4 comes out(June 11th)?

#ghost the band #the band ghost #ghost theory #ghost band #sister imperator #frater imperator #papa v perpetua #papa perpetua #papa v #cardinal copia

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petew21-blog · 8 months ago

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Why can't you be like Wyatt?

Charmed fanfiction. For now, PLEASE, don't send more Charmed fanfiction.

Why can’t I be like Wyatt? Chris couldn’t be happier. He preserved his own existence in the future and secured his birth. Spending so many months in the past among his aunts and parents was kind of therapeutic for him, even if they didn’t know who he was. But he still hasn’t prevented Wyatt from becoming evil, so he’d have a lot of time to go before he could return to the future and live a happy family life.

There had to be a way how to speed up the process. He went to the Book of Shadows to revise the information he knew about the demons hoping that he would find some new info. As he was browsing through the pages, his mind was elsewhere. He thought back on his youth, how Wyatt was always better than him, stronger, the older brother. „Why can’t I be as strong as Wyatt?“ It went on repeat, as he considered how much easier Wyatt would’ve had it had their roles been reversed, until he couldn’t bear it anymore and said it out loud. „Why can’t I be like Wyatt?!?“ he felt a strange surge of warmth under his fingers touching the book. He turned over his hands, but there was nothing wrong with them. Shrugging it off, he went back downstairs.

As he left the room, the book turned to a page that said Old regrets. The page said:

"Winds of time, turn back today,

Undo regrets that cloud my way.

By moon's light and star's true gleam,

Let what was wrong now be redeemed.

Shift the past, reshape the scene,

So all I've wished for can be seen."

As days went by Chris felt himself become more confident about his daily actions. He used to worry about how others saw him and now he simply didn’t. Others noticed his newfound confidence, but just as Chris, they didn’t pay much attention to it. Chris decided to change his wardrobe. He threw away all the colourful clothing and dressed more in black. Every jeans now sported a new black belt. His watch, his necklace, his shoes. Everything was now black. He shrugged it away for trying to be more elegant.

Months went by, his hair grew longer, his muscles got bigger and his personality wasn’t as pleasant as before. He spent less and less time researching for a way to save the future or even just at the Halliwell manor and more in the clubs, drinking, partying and just letting loose, doing whatever he wanted in the moment. It even involved some personal gain magic over time, but who cared anyway?

One day, Chris looked at himself in the mirror. He’d grown taller and decided to grow his hair out more. His long hair touched his shoulders. He’d even grown a scruffy beard he loved to brush his hand over. But now, as he looked at himself in the mirror, he realised for the first time how much he has changed over the months. „Holy shit, I’m turning into Wyatt“ as he said that, his eye colour changed, his hair turned blond and his face morphed. He was becoming fully Wyatt. He stood and watched as all the details of his body now resembled the Wyatt from his own time.

Chris smiled. „Wow, fuck me…I’m exactly like Wyatt“ his mischievous smile appeared. He scanned his new face in the mirror, touching his lips, feeling the vibrations of his voice as he touched his neck while speaking. He felt so powerful. He could take over the world now if he wanted to. He shouldn’t be hidden in the shadows trying to save mortals. He should be worshipped. He should be… feared. Yes, everyone should fear and worship the ground he walked on. He was Wyatt Halliwell and he had the power to make his will reality. He would make it so. Wyatt flexed in the mirror, laughing. He grabbed his bulge and proudly looked at himself in the mirror. „I got a lot to be proud of. Well, everything about me really.“

As he embraced his new self, Wyatt blinked. What happened? He was fighting the resistance and now he was in some shitty hotel room. Where the hell was he? He looked up and saw himself in the mirror. Nothing out of the ordinary. He went to loom out of the window. He was in San Francisco, but it wasn’t his city. In his time there wasn’t a Golden Gate anymore. He made sure of that. „I’m in the past. How did I get here?“

His phone rang. It was Piper. „Hey, Chris. We haven’t seen you for a while. Are you ok?“ Wyatt paused for a while before answering. He was in the past. Chris shouldn’t exist yet. Why was she asking for him? As he was pondering these questions, a part of him wanted to say that he will come by to see them, but instead he just heard himself say: „Wrong number.“ Piper said back: „Wrong number? But this is Chris’s phone“ Wyatt had had enough of this. His little brother was worthless. „No. It’s mine and my name is Wyatt“ he finished as he turned off the call.

He orbed to the manor and saw his mother and two aunts in front off him Piper: “Wyatt? What have you done to Chris?!?“ Wyatt: „I would love to know that I hurt him somehow, but as far as I know I just got here. So, either you let me have that book for a while and send me back to the future, or I will destroy your time“ The Charmed sisters wanted to capture Wyatt, turn him into a good person again, but that was something that they needed Chris for. They didn’t know the original cause that turned Wyatt evil and Wyatt soon grew bored of them. He orbed them somewhere for the time being, Piper and Phoebe separate from Paige of course.

The use of power felt good. He was power made physical: he had the right to exercise that power and rule. But before he could get part one of his plan and takeover the magical nexus of the manor for even more power, a time portal opened and he stepped out himself. „I know I look gorgeous shapeshifter, but do tell me, why do I sense my own self when I sense you?“ the newly arrived version of him said. Wyatt turned around and saw his own face staring back at him. „I’m you, but I see we’ve got a lot of catching up to do“ Wyatt explained to his doppelganger that he didn’t know how he arrived in the past and demonstrated his vast power as evidence of his identity.

The other Wyatt grinned and did the same. „Are you thinking what I’m thinking? Well if you are, you should“ Wyatt said: „To take over the world together now instead of in twenty years?“ The other Wyatt: „Together!“ Together they absorbed the nexus, their bodies now radiating power as they felt like gods even more than before. They just had to show themselves to the most powerful evil beings, beat them into submission easily and humanity would be quick to fear and worship them as their godkings after a few unnatural disasters.

Another Charmed story request by anonymous author who helped with editting

Charmed: Chris (in the past) accidentally wishes he was as powerful as Wyatt and transforms into the evil future version of Wyatt (or possesses him) and is taken over by Wyatt's personality.

#charmed transformation #charmed fanfiction #wyatt halliwell #chris halliwell #male transformation #body transformation

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soobuneary · 8 months ago

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Infidelity (1) - Wonho X Reader

Wonho (Lee Hoseok) X (fem) Reader

Word Count: 2.4k

Warning: mentions of religion, cheating, drinking, unprotected sex, public sex

*cross-posted on ao3, this is a revised version of the original story

Summary: You've been having trouble navigating a rocky relationship with your boyfriend and his religious family, but one night with Hoseok at the club helps you relieve your tension.

Bored is an understatement, you decide, as you sit at a table in the back of the dimly lit club sipping water. You’re the designated driver for your friends tonight, but if you’re honest you wish you were drunk and dancing with a hot stranger. It would be a good way to forget about the argument you had from hours before.

Jacob is a decent boyfriend, but he sure knows how to make you feel like shit. He is fine as hell, olive skin, perfect white teeth, and a curly mop of perfect black curls on top of his head. But the two of you have one major conflict: Jacob is from a perfect, picket fence Christian home and you are definitely not what one would call a ‘woman of God’. His parents hate you, his siblings judge you, but the sex can be heavenly.

Thinking about it only escalates your anger. Who is he, to sit on a throne and look down on you? He drinks, he has sex, he curses! But he had the gall to condemn you for going out tonight, a Saturday night, before he drags you to a service at his church tomorrow.

Releasing a sigh you look up and do a scan of your friends on the dance floor. Everyone seems to be having a good time and no one seems to be in need of a rescue. As a designated driver, it’s always important to make sure none of your drunk friends are trapped in uncomfortable and possibly dangerous situations. To forget about how much you wish you were dancing and drinking, you open Instagram on your phone only to regret it. Smiling brightly at you, the first post is from Beth, a girl in Jacob’s bible study group. The two of them are grinning, touching cheek to cheek, and holding up what you cold only assume to be plastic cups of Hawaiian Punch. The two of you had talked many times about the big crush Beth has on your boyfriend, but he refuses to listen.

It was when you put your phone down on the table with a huff you notice the pair of piercing dark eyes staring holes in you. The eyes belong to a man who must’ve been sculpted by a Greek god. You want to look away, but his stare pulls you into a trance that was impossible to escape. He’s wearing a black and red button up, buttoned low enough to expose his chest, his blonde hair is in opposition to the dark look in his eyes. They’re not intimidating but inviting. Your heart skips a beat when you see him take one step in your direction, butyour view is abruptly occupied by one of your friends.

“Hey”, she slurred, “which drink is mine?” She giggles while twirling a strand of her purple hair on her finger.

You hand it to her carefully, though your words are frantic. “How do I look, Sophia?”

Her laugh escapes her perfect, pink lips again, “Hot as shit! I’d hit!” She haphazardly places her drink on the table after a quick sip. As she turns to head back to the dance floor you call out to her to be careful. You close your eyes and release a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. ‘That looks fun…’

When you open your eyes to your surprise the handsome stranger is standing at your table. You hide your surprise the best you can, but he must have seen your blush peek through because he smirks. Extending a hand to you he introduces himself, “I’m Hoseok.”

Taking his hand you smile, “Y/N.”

“May I sit?” You scoot over in response to make room for him in the cramped booth. When he sits you realize how muscular this stranger is, and his large thigh touching yours makes you a little nervous. He gives you an up-down with his eyes, but you keep your composure. “Why aren’t you dancing, Y/N?”

His eyes finally meet yours and you feel butterflies erupting in your stomach. It definitely isn’t good to be this attracted to someone who hasn’t even spoke more than ten words to you yet. “I’m driving tonight, and I guess I just don’t feel like dancing.”

He softly caresses one of your hands resting on your lap, “Just because you’re not drinking? You don’t need to drink to have fun.”

“I know!” You protest, but you don’t flee from his touch. He is incredibly sexy, charming, and already touching you. Trouble.

“So, will you dance with me?” Hoseok sets off every warning in your head. All signs pointed to mistakes, but you nod.

He leads you to the dance floor and his hands find their place on your hips. He slips behind you, and you grind on him to the beat of the music. Feeling his hot breath on your neck only encourages you to keep going. You reach back and run your hands across his shoulders as he grinds right back onto your ass. The music pulses in your ears along with the beat of your heart, ever so slowly increasing. He suddenly turns you around but continues to dance. “Would you want to take this somewhere else?”

You stand on the tips of your toes to assure he can hear you. Lips softly caressing his ear you say, “I have to stay. I’m the designated driver, remember?”

He grabs your hands and puts them on his shoulders. After giving your neck a few gentle kisses he murmurs into your ear, “We don’t have to leave the club.”

“Aren’t you moving pretty fast? We haven’t even danced for that long.”

His next words pierced right through your resolve. “I’m just a man who knows what I want.”

The butterflies from before are now eagerly trying to escape your stomach and a tingle between your legs has lit a fire. You whisper back loud enough for only him to hear, “Show me what you have in mind.”

He leads you to the bathroom and although your brain is fighting it with all it’s might, your heart wins out and you follow his lead. Well, maybe not your heart, but something akin to desire inside of you. As soon as the door is closed and locked you are pushed back against the door. His lips hungrily attach to your exposed neck and shoulders, and his hands push off the thin straps of your satin, periwinkle dress. You grab his shoulders to steady yourself before snaking one hand down to rub his bulge. He groans in response, and you feel him smile against the dainty gold chain of your necklace.

His breathing is just as unsteady as yours as he pulls back and examines your neck. He smirks, “A cross?”

His hands are tugging on the hem of your dress and in a moment of stupidity and blatant honesty you blurt out, “My boyfriend gave it to me.”

His eyes catch yours for only a moment before he huffs, “Some boyfriend you have, he must be terrible.” One hand gingerly leaves the hem of your dress only to caress between your legs. You gasp and hold his large biceps with both hands. “You’re so wet and needy for me already. Some shit boyfriend.” He whispers the last part, and roughly bites your shoulder. You couldn’t hold yourself back any longer from grabbing his face and pressing your lips to his. The last thing you want to do is think about Jacob. You only want to get lost in Hoseok’s embrace.

His hand on your pussy gently moves, and he begins to rub your clit through your panties with his index and middle fingers. You wildly run your hands through his hair as the pace of the kiss picks up. His free hand roams over your breasts and you gasp as he pinches one of your nipples through your dress and bralette. He breaks the kiss to your dismay.

“Looks like you wanted to find someone tonight. Is he here?”

You kiss his jaw and murmur, “No. Please, I need you right now.”

He removes the hand from your panties and gently touches your cheek with his palm, but the look in his eyes is scarily dark. It sends a new wave of desire down to where you wanted him most. “I’ll fuck you until you forget him.”

His left hand abandons your breasts and slithers down to pull up the bottom of your dress. Your hands work on undoing his belt and pants, but the two of you refuse to break this kiss. It’s an ill-fought battle for dominance, and Hoseok has been winning from the start. His tongue slides over yours and you can’t help but let out a moan.

“Pretty”, he says against your lips as he lines himself up with your entrance. “What pretty sounds.” He rubs the head of his dick against your clit in hopes of ellicting a reaction.

It works, of course, and you moan loudly before remembering where you were. Your cheeks flared red with embarrassment.

“Hos- Hoseok..”

He bites your lip before releasing it. “What?”

You hook one leg around his waist, effectively pulling him even closer. “I need you in me, please”, you breathe out.

He chuckles slightly sadistically before softly grasping your chin in one hand. His other hand was still rubbing himself onto you. It was maddening. “But what about your boyfriend, Y/N?”

You groan, which makes him snicker lowly. “Please fuck me, Hoseok.” You hate begging, but he has a point. He is a stranger caught up in your infidelity.

“Jump.” You do as you’re told and wrap your legs around him. He places you against the door, and the anticipation of finally getting what you’ve been lusting over makes your mouth water. In a moment of out of place sweetness, he whispers against the cusp of your ear, “Let me know if it’s too much, please.”

Without any more warning than that, he slowly pushes into you. You bite your lip hard as he finally bottoms out. It hurts in the most pleasurable way. He was much bigger than Jacob. You don’t get much time to adjust as he pulls back and slides back in. Again and again, until he’s picking up the pace. The pleasure begins to make you teary-eyed. “More.”

A wicked laugh escapes his lips as he place a hands on the door while keeping the other hand roughly holding your ass. His lips catch yours in a heated kiss as his hips begin to snap rapidly. You grip him even tighter with your hands and legs, holding on for your life, and unknowingly also grip his dick inside of you. He releases a low growl against your lips and you’re suddenly aware of the door rattling behind you. The idea of getting caught turned you on even more. His kisses move to your neck and ear again, and you can’t help but throw your head back in pleasure. Between his sucking on your skin and his dick bringing you closer to the edge, you know you won’t last much longer, but you don’t want him to stop. Every ounce of your willpower is holding onto your orgasm and refusing to let go. Thrust after delicious thrust is eating away at you, and the pleasure so intense your head feels fuzzy.

“Let it go, baby. Cum on me, Y/N.”

You can’t hold on any longer after that, and you release around his cock. Wave after wave of ecstasy washes over your entire body making you arch your back and curl your toes. He keeps pumping into you until it the feeling is unbearable.

He quickly pulls out and unwraps you from his body. “On your knees.” The demand makes your weak knees shake more, but you comply. He pumps himself with his hand for only a few seconds before he cums all over your chest. The sight of him, jerking movements and grunts looking down on you, gets you impossibly more hot and bothered. Your breath catches in your throat as he comes off his high and locks his eyes with yours.

The eye contact only lasts a few moments before he moves to get a paper towel and wet it. Your high was wearing off, and the emptiness made you feel frozen in your place on your knees on the dirty bathroom floor. He hands the paper towel to you so you can clean yourself up, then does the same for himself. He won’t make eye contact with you as he gets dressed, and you feel awkward in this small space with him. You stand up but neither of you say anything, until he finally breaks the silence.

You’re wiping at the little bit of cum on the neckline of your dress when he speaks. HE’s holding his phone out to you. “Your number.”

Your hands are shaking slightly as you put your name and number in. When you give it back to him, he smiles at you and leaves you alone in the bathroom with a small smirk and a “see you soon, Y/N”.

He’s out of the bathroom and you attempt to straighten yourself up. Makeup is smudged and hair is everywhere, but you can’t make yourself care. The rush of your encounter with Hoseok sticks a smile to your face and drives a rush through your heart.

When you finally make it out of the bathroom your friends inform you how late it is and how they want to go home. You look around for Hoseok, but you don’t see him. It doesn’t matter, you think, because you’re sure you’ll hear from him soon enough.

~~~

“Aren’t you hot, sweetie?” Jacob eyes you up and down, taking in your beige, long sleeve turtleneck dress. “It’s like 75 outside.”

“I feel fine.” You smile at him as you stand for opening prayer.

You hear his mother murmur under her breath, “At least she’s covered up for once…”

You can’t help but smirk, thinking of all the marks Hoseok left behind. ‘If only you knew…’

I hope you enjoyed it!! Thanks for reading!

#wonho x reader #lee hoseok x reader #wonho smut #wonho scenarios #lee hoseok smut #kpop x reader #kpop smut #revised and revisited #soobuneary

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