#X/Sigma mentioned
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New QPR fanfic 🏳️🌈 I wish Ao3 had "QPR" in categories too.
Rating:
General Audiences
Archive Warning:
No Archive Warnings Apply
Categories:
Gen
Other
QPR
Fandoms:
Rockman | Mega Man - All Media Types
Rockman X | Mega Man X
Relationships:
X & Zero [Rockman X]
X ~ Zero [Rockman X]
Mentioned Sigma/X [Rockman X]
#megaman x#rockman x#x and zero#zero#sigma#fanfic#short#fanfiction#qpr#queer#queer relationships#platonic relationships#ao3#archive of our own#squidgeworld#squidge.org#squidgeworld.org#squidgeworld archive#queer themes#queer platonic relationship#X/Sigma mentioned#mega man#robots#queer pride#squidgeworld kudos
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Hey. Hey, guys. You'll never guess what I've been drawing.


Glisten: ...??
Glisten and his lame ass boyfriends!!!!!! Cheers to art dumps <3
[CW: SUGGESTIVE JOKE] More doodles below cut:
So! I know most of you come for the shinyshrimp stuff (WHICH WE WILL GET TO) but let me yap about Glisten and Razzle for a bit.
I LOVE YOU GLITTERMASK THEY COULD NEVER MAKE ME HATE YOU GLITTERMASK-
Glisten and Razzle got together like 3 months after Glisten and Boxten broke up. Razzle never really looked to Glisten that much outside of acquaintances (cuz he was kinda sorta lowkey jealous of Glisten's charisma and stage-presence). In fact, they were much more focused on Vee and maybe possibly had a crush on her, which is really funny in hindsight with Dazzle lol. However, after learning that Vee was a lesbian/being very rudely rejected by her, Razzle found comfort in Glisten and fell head-over-heels almost immediately.
The only problem is, Razzle has -10000 aura. His ass cannot be flirty or cool-charismatic at all.


Glisten: What do you do when you aren't distracting? Razzle: (Glisten likes mysterious people) I sell drugs!! Glisten: ... Excuse me? Razzle: (But Glisten also likes kind people) But ONLY to kids in need! Dazzle: (STOPSTOPSTOPSTOPSTOPSTOP-) *defeated whimper*
Razzle thinks he's that guy (they're not, they're pathetic honestly lol)
Also like, Razzle is suuuper dense when it comes to everyone except Dazzle. They struggle with self-reflection and other-people reflection, so he is completely convinced he is doing all the right things, when in actuality, they are very very very cringe.

Razzle: No see Dazzie, this is why they call me Rizzle. Dazzle: (No one has EVER called you that.)
Denseness is one hell of a drug, aye, fellas?
Dazzle is being pulled through the wringer trying to preserve whatever was left of her (and Razzle's) pride. It's not working. Girl is fighting for their life every time she is dragged over by Razzle in order to say a horrible pick-up line to Glisten.
(This is all pre-relationship btw. After they get together it becomes an inside joke and Glisten retorts with his own awful (although not nearly as bad) pick-up lines)
Now the moment you've been waiting forrrr 🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁
✨ Shinyshrimp ✨

I love them chat, I love them sm. They have so much drama and love and interesting things going on, they're so cool and fun n stuff and AUGHHHHH💥💥💥
Shrimpo being that one guy who craves affection but would literally bite anyone who gives it to him is so real to me. Homie wants a hug but ends up suplexing whoever hugged him outta reflex. Glisten, on the other hand, is one of the most affectionate people ever. He's not affectionate to everyone, but when you catch his interest (both platonic and romantic), he is very verbally and physically affectionate. He'll buy you things, he'll give you hugs, he'll let you invade his personal space, all stuff he would never let normies do.
Shrimpo loves this, however, homie has no idea how to deal with any kind of affection in a positive way. Cat-coded ahh guy. Glisten does find this amusing tho, so he's more inclined to be affectionate with Shrimpo to help him "get over it" in a way.

This is just for shits and giggles. I feel like everyone should draw this meme with their ships. It's a canon event at this point.
What can I say? He was hungry.

Can't forget my fankids. I love my fankids. I miss my fankids. I need to draw my fankids more istg I need to revamp their ask blog soon (especially with some new editions coming soon).
Also Hamlet looks smaller because most of his internal structure is made of ribbon and stuffing, so he shrinks into a ball when happy. He also loafs like a cat, what a guy.
Also also also what the skibidi sigma happened to my prep-jock ship?? Why is it backwards???

I drew these because I had a vision of the little doodle below and only thought it would work if they were swaped... sooooo... here we are.
Scapmi is a preppy goth-ish shrimp with an eye for fashion and artistry. With a smart mouth and a massive ego, he often comes off as an annoyance to others. He loves to be front and center in everything but often has to fight with his internalized idea that everything is a competition that he needs to win no matter what. It causes him a lot of stress and self-doubt, but he'd never let anyone see his weaknesses.
Gash is a shrap-toned violent mirror who speaks more with his fists than his voice. He hates everything that is not himself (and sweets) and makes sure people know that. He used to be a perfectionist, but after an accident permanently cracked his face, he dropped his "perfect" persona in favor of a messy, more hateful one. He wants connection but doesn't know how to express his needs in an understandable way, and that frustrates him immensely.
As you can see, match made in heaven.

Gash: DUDE, WHAT THE F*CK!? Scampi: There's a smudge on you- Gash: I DON'T CARE! LET GO!! Scampi: Not 'til I'm done. (Your natural blush is gorgeous; shame it's on you tho)
So yeah, swap shinyshrimp lore drop yippee.
Have a good one chat, til I reappear again✌️✌️
#cw suggestive joke#MY SHEILAAAAAAS OH MY SHEILAAAAASSS#also every time i post glittermask i feel like that one audio about the guy wanting to talk about birds#me: you give me one like and i'll show you 5 glittermask doodles!! i'll give you 100 glittermask doodles-!!#yall: everybody came for shinyshrimp-#me: PLEAAAAAAAAAASEEEEE!!!!!!!😭😭😭😭🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏#but anyways#she/they for dazzle plz#go forth and be cringe my skibidi sigmas life is too short to perserve your image#also if y'all wanna see more scampi and gash lmk#dandy's world#dandys world#dandy's world fanart#dandy's world oc#dandy's world glisten#dandy's world shrimpo#dandy's world razzle and dazzle#dandy's world ships#glisten the mirror#shrimpo the shrimp#razzle and dazzle the twin masks#glisten x shrimpo#shrimpo x glisten#glisten x razzle#razzle x glisten#glisten x boxten (mention)#glisten x rodger (mention)#shimmer the glass shrimp#hamlet the masquerade mask#fankids
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Last minute Rallon and Millennia quick sketch before the finale drops
#we're popping the biggest bottles when they get mentioned in the last ep#<- delusional#doctor who#dw#art#my art#academy era#the deca#rallon#millennia#rallon x millennia#millennia x rallon#doctor who fanart#digital art#artists on tumblr#theta sigma#koschei oakdown
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Slick Backstory time, I finally finished the more detailed version enjoy.
Word count: 2346
warnings: mild gore warning (not graphic descriptions), torture, vivisection, minor character death
Oftentimes Slick managed to get away with a list of things, most won't believe a well known pop star stole a few things, pushed someone over etc. for the moment he rules the world, and that's all that matters. Many had claimed something was wrong with him, called him names for it but Slick just ignored them.
The sounds of the crowd as he sings, brings a sense of pride to Slick. An assurance that his singing is enjoyed at that moment, only for everything to come to a stop as the day ends. Returning back to his room however there's a sight he never wanted to see and it panics him, lying over on the floor is the mangled body of someone in a puddle of blood. They were likely there for a while, judging by the smell.
Feeling sick, Slick calls out for help, and from there the worst has only just begun. A trial was held for the person Slick had found, and it was Slick who was prosecuted and found guilty. Even though Slick simply found the body, somehow there was evidence connecting him to the crime. The pop star finds an unpleasant feeling bubbling inside, but Slick never gets to pay attention to it.
It's a reploid in red armor that gives the last evidence against slick and gets him into jail, long blonde hair and blue eyes, Zero Slick comes to learn his name to be. The very last face he sees, before he's pulled away to serve his sentence. Kicking and screaming futilely, as Slick knows he didn't do anything wrong, and he sure as heck doesn't want to die or spend the rest of his life locked away.
Thankfully he's not set up to be scrapped immediately so he has time, though that's a jinx in itself. As Slick has no way to anticipate what they have chosen to do in that time. The first week he's pulled into another room, with tools on a table and a chair with cuffs attached to it. The walls are the same bland metallics that are everywhere else, the small stains on the floor around the chair worry him a little.
Seated and locked into place, Slick can only close his eyes in fear. The process is extremely painful. All the sensitive human resembling pieces are slowly replaced with mechanical pieces. So at the end of it all beneath his helmet there's no longer his beautiful face and hair, only a screen and metal plating protecting the skull of his metal endoskeleton. In turn his hands are replaced with a pair that are far more mechanical looking, with only two fingers and a thumb each.
It's painful, it's awful and Slick lost consciousness in the process. Waking up again to the bland metallics of his cell, there’s a small moment of partial relaxation. Slick knows he has to hash out an escape plan soon, especially if he wants to make it out alive. His abilities are still active, but he needs to study the guards to make his disguise believable. So for the moment, Slick allows himself to crumple over sadly for the moment.
Effectively allowing the sheer force of emotions and depression he feels in that moment, take full force. A voice cuts through the wall of his cell, from a neighboring cell. “Hey, you next door you up?” An unfamiliar voice to Slick, but it gives him a small scrap of comfort in the moment. “Yeah, I'm up.” There's a hum for a moment, likely the other person thinking of something to say. “What did you do for work before you got here?”
A simple question that calms and grounds Slick in the moment, but he's not entirely sure that's his neighbor’s intention. They knew not to ask the question usually used to get intel on prisoners, perhaps they already have some experience being here. “I used to be a pop star, but I got falsely accused of a crime.” The Man laughs on the other side, as if not expecting such an answer. “I'm a Maverick hunter, just here as temporary punishment for being reckless according to them.”
While a surprising answer for Slick, it gives him a small shred of hope, so he decides to tell the unknown Maverick hunter his full story. How he used to be a popular popstar, finding the dead body, being seen as the primary suspect, and even how Zero was the one to find the last evidence that landed him in jail. Another laugh rings through the wall, despite everything in this situation it's kind of comforting to hear in that moment.
The other man starts rambling about his own side of things, about another man called ‘X’ and just how much he despises X. Yet despite the hatred and annoyance within the rant it's much more comforting than silence, or the painful situation from earlier. But then the man mentions an additional detail that Slick notes and stores in his memory from then on, X is friends with Zero. “Sorry, about reminding you of such a thing.”
The other man just laughs Slick's apology off, as if it were unnecessary at that moment. “It's fine, no one's listened to me like this without calling me unreasonable.” It's not so bad with like minded people, the people who just don't understand are just awful is all Slick can think of. “I've never been able to talk about it with anyone, so I would say it's the same here.” From there the conversation changes to be more warm, and less about people they hate for the rest of the time the other man is there.
Unfortunately Slick's neighbor is released while he recharges, leaving Slick entirely alone once more. No one returns for Slick and he never learns his neighbor's name, so Slick just gives up on that route. Returning to studying the guards to make a holographic disguise again it is, since the other possible route from earlier has gone dry. Remaining quiet, Slick studies his surroundings for the moment, taking in as many details as he can about the guards.
They all present with stoic behavior, all are created with the same uniform armor amongst them, none of them really acknowledge each other that much. Simple note that Slick mentally takes in observation, waiting patiently on the metallic floor for another chance. They mentioned something about taking him out a second time before his sentence to the yard, so that should give Slick some more time hopefully.
Knowing him that's likely going to jinx it, and it's actually going to be another awful experience but he has to try. At the moment Slick's only choice now, is to free himself now. no one is going to come and save him, that is now more than clear.
×~×~×~×~×
The second outing for Slick finally arrives and it's not what he was expecting, but it will give him internal prep time for his escape. Blind folded and bound to a slab, Slick digs his fingers into his palms as he feels someone cutting him open, poking around at first as if searching for something. Whatever they're looking for it’s unpleasant, Slick can feel every poke to his organs. The bindings dig into the scarring of his replaced hands, irritating the scarring that hasn’t fully healed yet. There’s quiet conversations that Slick can hardly hear, and laughter at his quiet uncomfortable noises. Slick never sees what is removed but it's so painful, all he can really do is scream out in pain until his voice box gives out temporarily.
Finally placed into his cell again Slick begins his plan, and sneaks the keys off of the guard that escorts him back in, using his holograms so they never notice. Once they have left Slick utilizes a fake guard hologram who unlocks the door and locks it behind him while leading Slick out so no one suspects a thing. Past that point it’s simple hologram tricks, and from there escape is surprisingly easy, but he's left on the run from then on.
Survival for him past that point takes trial and error, but for the time Slick manages to hold his ground and survive on his own for now. But inevitably he’s likely going to get very tired of fending for himself, and they will be waiting for such a thing to happen. No one would ever believe Slick if he told them that he was innocent, they would much rather listen to Zero than give him the chance.
Running from the past wasn't easy, nor fully possible. Any and all who saw Slick as he is, shunned and ignored by many. Tired, scared and low on energy he sighs softly as he finally decides to take the dangerous journey he didn't want to resort to. He didn’t have to go very far admittedly, but then again it wasn’t like Slick expected to be met halfway. Not that he remembered too much of that day, or could see clearly at the time. The sky was cloudy, the rain and hail pelted across his form. All that protected him were craps of fabrics he had stolen and fastened into a cloak.
Wandering quietly along a trail cautiously only to slip down the hill, and crash into someone without intending to. Large hands grab a hold of him with how his body registers most touch, Slick panics and starts to struggle futilely. Blue eyes stare into his soul, fear and terror consume his body before he can think. A searing pain meets his neck area before he is dropped, causing him to just cough and sputter from reflex despite no longer having a mouth in the traditional sense. Seeing as Slick doesn't seem to see him as well however, and doesn’t get up the person just slings Slick over their shoulder without care carried roughly and like a sack of potatoes.
Despite the rough treatment Slick hardly puts up a fight, he’s too tired at this point. Having spent months just running around for his own survival, every ounce of defiance is withered down to a crawl in that moment. If anyone tries to bring it up with Slick after he’s recovered, he’s bound to be embarrassed. Coming to a stop he’s slung back off the person by the leg with no warning, and Slick scratches the wall a bit with his claws out of panic. Only to be left entirely alone again, not wanting to upset whoever is hosting him under a roof like this, Slick curls further into his ragged patched together cloak and doesn’t move from his spot. Not really sad per say, just scared and upset about what was taken from him.
From there his mind assumes a sleep-like state to maintain what little energy he has left, not like there was much his body saved up anyways. Struggling for his life on a daily basis it wasn’t like he could do much about it. Consciousness lost from the exhaustion, his exhaustion taken care of first while in this state. Upon morning the process of upgrades began, one detail earned Slick’s temporary loyalty, his claws were replaced with proper hands again. While nothing like the pair that had been stolen from him, they still served their purpose and that’s all that mattered. From there Slick began to refresh himself with a weapon that was familiar to him, back before everything he learned bo staff fighting, if only for self defense originally.
Admittedly however Slick had not touched one in between the trial and this current moment, so he was a little rusty. On top of that, since his hands have been replaced twice now, the strength he had originally built up in his wrists is going to take time to improve. “Now why would you go and choose a weapon like that, what damage are you going to do with a stick?” asks a familiar voice, Slick holds his bo staff in front of him like the handle to a cart, before moving one side forward strongly to strike the violet and gold reploid in the side, the other half hitting his elbow with no reaction from Slick. The resulting upset “Ow!” confirms to Slick that he’s more than proven his point, so he just allows his staff to rest at his side. “That’s how. I’ve met you before, I can tell by your voice.”
The other person just rubs the arm Slick just struck with his bo staff in pain, having not expected him to strike that strongly. “Westbrook prison right? I was only there as temporary punishment. Another question, how are you going to deal with swords and guns?” “Well how about you grab a training sword and I’ll show you, we can worry about guns a little later because my solution isn’t tied to my main weapon of choice.” not expecting Slick to offer a demonstration, but not complaining as it was simply a suggestion in wording and not an order Vile decides to humor Slick in that moment. With Vile coming towards him aiming to strike him from above, Slick thrusts the bo staff below the other’s wrists to block the incoming strike, the only noise a simple shushing exhale.
“See? You don’t block the Blade directly, you block their wrists so they can’t move their hands.” not once has Slick’s facade of calm moved in that moment, a simple lie for his own survival. On the other hand Vile just laughs at the unexpected blocking method, not expecting Slick to come up with something so quickly. Once the block is released, and Vile moves his arms away from the strike, names are exchanged. It’s in those small moments that Vile pulls Slick under his arm, and aggressively plays with the top of Slick’s helm with a hand. “Ack!” Despite his shout Slick hardly fights such a gesture, and that’s how Vile knows that he definitely has the other man wrapped around his finger.
#mmx oc#megaman x oc#mmx vava#mmx vile#megaman x#mega man x#mmx sigma#he's not mentioned by name though#or really described past “taller than slick and has blue eyes”#mmx zero#because he's kinda here too#but not for very long lol
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Summary: During the day, Ushas dedicates her time to her academic studies. At night, she works on her brilliant (although ethically questionable) experiments. In the meantime, she has to solve Theta and Koschei’s problems. But nothing prepares her for the moment when the duo shows up on her doorstep with a baby in arms.
Rating: T
Relationships: Theta Sigma/Koschei Oakdown, The Doctor/The Master
So, after what felt like forever, here's a new-ish story! I put the ish because, well, it's a translation of a fic I published four years ago. BUT, this one is an improvement, because my writing is way better now.
So I really wanted a story where Theta and Koschei loom a baby together because, in my head, this is exactly what happened, it's 100% canon. No one can change my mind.
Hope you like it!
#thoschei#doctor who#doctor who academy era#academy era#theta sigma#koschei oakdown#best enemies#doctor/master#doctor x master#baby fic#LOOMS#I love writing in ushas pov so much#but you can guess that from my published fics#my fics#doctor who eu#dropped a brax mention because i needed a bit of lungbarrow siblings for my soul
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Last night I uploaded the penultimate chapter of "First Impact", which means that there's only one chapter left until I'm free this installment of "Collision Course" comes to an end - that also means that there's only one more "fun fact" post to make after this one. But for now, let's focus on the one accompanying this post. So something you may have noticed while reading is that some chapter titles and author's note quotes are titles from songs/song lyrics. Originally, every chapter was going to share a title with a song, with what song that was being based on vibes. However, I quickly scrapped this idea, as the reasoning behind each song wasn't immediately apparent. For example, Chapter 1 was originally named after Cosmo Sheldrake's "Linger Longer". Vibe-wise, this song checks out. The lyrics describe a setting where abstract parts of natural are personified, while also telling the listener to return to nature. At the same time, the speaker also talks about how we are helpless to the greater forces in the universe (/pos), and about how nature is a constant force in the world.
Now let's compare that to the events of Chapter 1. The chapter starts out with Zero waking up from a dream, only to attempt to disregard his dream and throw himself into his "real-life," which includes his duties as a Hunter. If we interpret nature as a metaphor for reality, "Linger Longer" fits perfectly, with this verse in particular working especially well:
"Come trickle back to den and roost Come claw and tooth, and fish and goose Come fin and tail, and paw and hoof For life has a passion for living"
But here's the thing: without that explanation, it would not be clear at all why I had picked that song. Hence why I cut the idea of vibe-based song titles (that and I soon ran out of songs that fit what I was writing about). But as I stated earlier, some chapters still have song titles/quotes. The ones that I used have meanings that are a lot easier for the reader to figure out on their own, but just for fun, I'll be interpreting some of them (spoilers of all shapes and sizes under the cut).
Let's start with an easy one: Chapter 34's title ("Son of Evil") is an allusion to the vocaloid song "Daughter of Evil" by Mothy, with the quotes being from JubyPhonic's cover of the song (the older version of her cover can be found here). The first quote I used reads as such (the bolded lyrics are the ones that are the most relevant):
"Blooming ever-sweet, the evil flower reaps Drowning in colors 'til it's all you can see Pitiful as ever, they were growing by her side Just to pave the road ahead for her, their destiny to die"
Alright, now let's see: "Blooming" can refer to Zero's second awakening, or to how he's still young and developing as a person. "Evil flower reaps" can be interpreted as a reference to how he was (or is, if we look at the flashback this quote refers to from a present-tense perspective) considered to be "evil" or maverick as a result of his programming, with "reaps' being an allusion to how he is sometimes referred to as the "Red Reaper.
"Drowning in colors" can refer to the different blood colors of Garuma's unit (as well as how they are all murdered by Zero), with "pitiful as ever" works as a way of citing how Zero easily defeats them all. "Growing by her side" can be used as a parallel to how those Hunters probably saw themselves on similar footing as Zero: to them, they were all just a bunch of reploids in a room. It didn't really matter that some of them were Hunters while one of them was some random dude in a capsule. They were all on equal ground with one another. "Pave the road ahead of her" suggests that the deaths of the Hunters in Garuma's unit served as a means for Zero to become a Hunter himself, since killing them directly led to him meeting Sigma. And on that note, "destiny to die" means exactly what it says on the tin: Garuma's unit was screwed the moment they opened that capsule, both in canon and in "Collision Course". Afterall, they weren't releasing an ordinary robot: they were releasing a war machine.
The second quote is a lot more simple to break down: "To overthrow the evil princess high above Taking to the streets, at last, they all had had enough Leading from the front of such a violent mob, in red Was a noble dame in armor, coming for her head"
"Overthrow the evil... high above" refers to Sigma, who, at this point in the plot, is chilling on the top of the highest floor of his fortress. "Taking to the streets, at last, they all had had enough" is a direct allusion to the Hunters - they're done with Sigma's nonsense. At this point, they're willing to take him down at any cost, including their own lives.
"Leading... such a violent mob, in red" is meant to show how Zero is the commander of the Hunters in Sigma's stead (and has been for a while), and that it's his idea that their acting on. "Noble" is fairly self-explanatory: the Hunters are going to kill a psycho that thought it was a good idea to nuke a city full of people, even though they could die in attempting to stop him. "Coming for her head" shows how Zero is ready to throw hands with Sigma, (and it also serves as foreshadowing for the final battle).
Okay, now let's do one that's more difficult: Chapter 38 is named after and has quotes from the song "Dear Dictator" by Saint Motel. The first quote is this: "Everybody tends to disagree On just how evil A single human being should ever be And all your bones, they scream for more" "Everybody tends to disagree" refers to how the Hunters were divided in whether or not they should follow Sigma. Half of them thought it was a good idea, and the other half felt that it wasn't. "On just how evil" shows how deep the nuances of this disagreement goes: some of the Hunters who joined Sigma were forced to do so (such as Mac and Storm Eagle), and are fully aware of what he was capable of. Others, like Spark Mandrill and Chill Penguin, didn't have a clue as to the full extent of what Sigma was up to - they joined out of loyalty, or because they were bored. "A single human being" is about how Sigma is just one man, and yet, is still capable of committing incredible harm. "...all your bones, they scream for more" is a reference to the abusive relationship Sigma had with Zero. Zero was hurt by him emotionally and physically, but still wanted his attention and approval. Now for the second quote, which is the song's chorus:
"And at the trial, there'll be no jury And all the dead are going to play witness Not too late to say you're sorry It's too late to truly mean it"
"...at the trial, there'll be no jury" represents how Zero (and to a lesser extent, X), are judge, jury, and executioner in the fight against Sigma. They're deciding his fate - not the people of the city, not the rest of the Hunters, and most certainly not Sigma himself. "...all the dead are going to play witness" is a direct allusion to all the blood on Sigma's hands: it started with Striker (aka Green Biker Dude). It continued with the Hunters who died when the Headquarters was bombed. It went further still when the Hunters had to fight with their ex-colleagues when Sigma threatened to nuke Abel City. And it'll extend to thousands of people if he isn't stopped. "Not too late to say you're sorry" is a direct callout for how Sigma "apologizes" to Zero for how he's mistreated him in the past, and how he claims he'll never do what he did again. "...too late to truly mean it" shows how untrue that apology is. He had plenty of chances to stop mistreating Zero. But he kept doing it anyway. And I'll say this much: he knew that what he did was wrong. Hence why he always did it in private. That's the thing about abusers - if they didn't know what they were doing to their victims was bad, they would do it in public (although, I will say that doesn't stop some of them: some abusers don't care who sees what they do, as they genuinely believe that they're in the right/won't be stopped). Not only that, but he continues to manipulate Zero after he "apologizes" - the "apology" in and of itself is a manipulation. Sigma is not changing his ways, and everything he does makes that clear. I'm going to call it here for now, because this post has gotten long enough. Let me now if you want me to do anything similar with lyric analysis again - I actually had a lot of fun doing this! (If you have any other questions, my inbox is open for those, too!) (If this is your first time hearing about "Collision Course" or "First Impact", please examine the ao3 tags before reading. While the story is rated T for Teen, it does go into some serious subject matter, as certain aspects of this post would suggest. Stay safe, everyone.)
#cw: abuse#cw: abuse mention#saint motel#vocaloid#mega man x#mega man#sigma megaman#zero megaman#ao3#fanfiction#rewrite#lyric analysis#long post#opal speaks#opal writes#I wanted to give a link for the original version of “Daughter of Evil”#But for some reason the captions in the video (at least#the version that was part of the link I followed)#was littered with swear words???#like they have nothing to do with the video or the song#it was weird#may God bless you all
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camera man
🌙 starring. Choi Seungcheol x afab!Reader
🔮 preview. He’s this big, strong, business major and frat president- but right now, he’s putty in your hands… and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t feeling extremely powerful from this.
tw/cw. Unprotected sex, cam girl reader, mentions of alcohol/drugs/porn, masturbation, use of sex toys, multiple reader orgasms, oral (both m/f recieving), blow job, pussy eating, overstim, multiple sex positions, dirty talk, praise, etc… I pet names: (hers) baby.
👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 6.3k
🍭 aus. Svt cam boy au, frat au, university au, etc…
☀️ mlist + an. This is part 2 of a 3 part cam boy svt au. Each story can be read as a stand-alone, but exists within the same universe :) Wonwoo is April, Seungcheol is May, and Mingyu will be in June. As soon as all 3 are up, a masterlist will be created, which will then be linked here.
Prologue:
It’s a generally unspoken secret amongst the frats and sororities at your university that some of the students within the ‘Greek system’ are a part of the adult entertainment camming industry. When notorious gaming streamer ‘No Face’ had made his debut in the more erotic style of video making, there had been whispers about Sigma Veta Tau’s Jeon Wonwoo being the man behind the mask.
“I swear to God,” your friend Kelly says one night as you’re all watching Legally Blonde for the tenth time, “No Face had another cam show last night, and I’m like a hundred percent sure he was talking to someone behind the camera.”
“So?” you sigh.
“So… everyone knows Wonwoo has that new girlfriend! I would bet my scholarship that Wonwoo is No Face, and he and his girlfriend are into some weird in front of camera and behind the camera masturbation type of shit.”
“If they are, that’s their own business,” you shrug.
“I wonder how much money they make,” Kelly frowns. “Like… No Face is huge- I wonder if he makes like… thousands every month.”
Now your friend's words draw your attention. It’s one of those weird things, you’re aware of camboys and camgirls, aware of the porn industry and everything, of OnlyFans- but with so many easily accessible free porn sites, you’d forgotten that a lot of content creator’s have switched to behind paywall options in order to make actual income on their work.
“I heard he’s making over ten thousand a month,” another sorority sister pipes in. “There are rumours that Sigma Veta Tau’s frat president, you know, the business major one, supports the whole thing and helps with marketing and style and all sorts of stuff so that it’s more profitable.”
Your skin is prickling now… ten thousand a month? Just for… diddling yourself on camera? Wearing a mask would make you anonymous, and as a female, if you did a wig, it would be even better…
You shake your head at yourself, you can’t actually be considering this… can you?
One:
It’s been about six months since you started camgirling, and it’s going alright. It had been a definite learning curve, as you don’t have some business major to talk you through the ropes, and unlike No Face, you didn’t start with a preexisting following from being a gaming streamer- no, it’s slow going, but sometimes with things like this, it just is what it is.
Being an anonymous camgirl doesn’t stop you from having fun though, and tonight, you’re with Kelly at a Sigma Veta Tau frat party.
There had been talk about frat president Choi Seungcheol being a mastermind behind the possible camboy ring in this frat, notably No Face being the most famous, but you push that aside. You’ve been into Seungcheol since you first saw him, and, expertise or not, you’d do anything for a chance with him.
The two of you know each other in passing; you’re both in the ‘Greek system’ after all, so when you get to the party, you zero in on Cheol by the beer pong table.
He looks up as you approach, a smirk working its way onto his mouth.
You’ve had near misses with this man, misses that you’ve since dwelled on incessantly.
There had been that time your sorority and his fraternity were doing a bake sale together, and the two of you had been stuck at the booth all day due to scheduling conflicts with other volunteers. The booth had been small, and there had been numerous moments of contact, you trailing your hand along his shoulders as you moved behind him to grab cupcakes, his hands on your hips to gently guide you out of his way so he could access the cash box-
Christmas had been interesting, with the two of you stuck under the mistletoe only to be interrupted by first-year Dino, who had come to warn Seungcheol that Hoshi and Seokmin had spiked the punch with LSD by accident- how had it been an accident, you might ask? Well, the jury is still out on that one.
Seungcheol is definitely your ‘maybe’ man, the man you maybe will kiss, the man you maybe will fuck, the man you maybe will fall for… if the situation allows it.
“How are you doing?” Seungcheol says, immediately wrapping his arm around your shoulders to pull you in.
It’s a forward approach, but you don’t mind as you snuggle up to the big, muscular frat boy.
“Doing good, you?”
“Been drinking,” he notes, holding up his red solo cup for you. “Promise there’s no LSD in this one.”
You laugh, accepting the liquor. It’s a mixed drink, something strong, and now you know why Seungcheol is so relaxed. This is pure giggle juice, and if you’d had a whole cup of this, you’d be just as forward with Seungcheol as he’s being with you right now.
“What did you put in this?” you ask.
“I don’t know, Dino made it.”
Sometimes you forget that Seungcheol is one of the older men here, and he’s the president, so he has a whole house of dudes ready to do anything he asks. It’s funny how often he picks on Dino, but at the same time, you know Seungcheol loves the kid and sees him like a little brother.
“Are you sure there’s no LSD in this, then?” you tease.
Seungcheol chuckles. “Dino’s more of a weed guy, and Vernon only sells the flower shit, which would be hard to hide in a drink, so you don’t have to worry.”
You love the inner workings of this community. Hoshi and Seokmin are the trouble makers with a thing for getting too messed up on alcohol or anything they can get their hands on. Seungkwan, their bitchy mother figure/younger cohort who always runs around with them, or with Vernon - the resident weed seller - even though Seungkwan is a total musical theater kid and hasn’t touched any drug in his entire life.
Then you have the likes of Jeonghan, Joshua, and Seungcheol, three of the older members, the business majors. Woozi and Wonwoo are more on the quiet end of the spectrum, avoiding parties. There are Jun and Minghao, who can have a crazy streak, but also prefer to seclude together rather than come to big gatherings. Mingyu and Dino are both just puppies, and they’re constantly running around and getting into trouble.
No, you love this frat, and regardless of the camboy rumours, you’re happy that they’re the brother frat to your sorority.
You continue to sip on the drink, standing with Seungcheol while you watch Seokmin and Hoshi versus Jeonghan and Joshua in beer pong. It’s a riveting game, with all sorts of fake-outs, crying, screaming- Hoshi pretending to sip his drink, then doing a trick shot that fails, only for him to sprawl onto the floor in disappointment. Seokmin laughing at his teammate’s antics can probably be heard over the music throughout the whole house.
Jeonghan and Joshua end up winning, and the ‘evil twins’ - as some call them - celebrate accordingly with shots.
Seungcheol can only laugh, turning to look at you. “How’s that drink working out?”
“Are you trying to get me drunk, mister Choi?”
“Just a little tipsy, not drunk,” he smirks.
“And why would you want me to be tipsy?”
“So you’ll dance with me,” he admits, and for the first time, he actually looks kind of shy. This big, beefy, muscle-head businessman who always fills out his suits - or his blue jeans - is shy about asking you to dance… You couldn’t be more into him than you are in this moment.
“Cheol, you need to be more confident,” you tell him, grabbing his hand to lead him onto the dance floor.
“I am confident,” he argues.
“Yeah? I don’t believe you.”
Seungcheol swallows thickly, and then he grabs the back of your neck. He tugs you to his chest, closing the distance between your mouths. You kiss him back eagerly, latching onto his plain white t-shirt as your tongues begin to clash deliciously.
Seungcheol groans, his hand slipping from the small of your back to your ass, and you realize that maybe this man wasn’t being shy at all, maybe he just wanted your first kiss to feel right. After all, there have been so many near misses-
No, this is perfect, and you get lost in the taste of Seungcheol as he kisses you on the dance floor.
You don’t feel exposed even though you’re in a crowd like this- you know no one is paying attention to you, and you also know you’re not the only couple making out on the dance floor right now.
Your heart is racing when Seungcheol finally pulls away, and he looks down at you with a grin.
“My room?”
“Fuck, yeah.”
He grabs your hand, pulling you off the dance floor.
Your heart is still thundering as you follow him. He takes you up two flights of stairs, all the way to his back corner room.
Lots of frat boys have double rooms that they share with others, but there’s a select handful that have solo lodging like Cheol’s.
You’ve never actually been in his room before- most of the frat boys keep their doors locked, and you’re shocked at the neon blue hue created by many panels of mood lighting along the walls. There’s a massive gaming station in the corner, a desk, a big bed- it looks like a room that suits Seungcheol, but there’s something about the aesthetic that’s throwing you off.
The neon blues are No Face’s colours- but you know Cheol is not No Face, he’s much too big to be the lean, thick anonymous gamer turned OnlyFans celebrity.
“You good?” Seungcheol asks, closing the door behind you.
“Yeah, just never been in here before,” you lie, shaking your head as you grab Seungcheol again, pressing your lips to his desperately.
He wraps you up in his large arms, leading you over to the bed. You fall onto the mattress as gracefully as gravity allows, looking up at Seungcheol.
His expression is one of complete lust, you can tell you’ve both been waiting for this for a while.
“Here,” you offer, undoing your jeans and lifting your hips so you can shimmy out of them.
He immediately grabs at the fabric, helping you tug it off. Next is your shirt, and you remove that too-
Then you notice Seungcheol staring at you, but his expression has shifted to one of confusion.
You look down and realize he’s staring at a faint birthmark on your inner thigh.
“Wait…” he shakes his head, “are you camgirl BabyDoll246?”
Two:
Seungcheol’s whole world has stopped. Things had been a little fuzzy from drinking mixed booze for a couple of hours, but now, the world is extremely clear. He can’t stop looking at the mark on your thigh, the tiny mark- so small you could miss it, so small it would likely be insignificant in every scenario- except Seungcheol has been looking at that mark nearly every night for the better part of two months.
As someone involved with unofficial guidance in the camming industry, Seungcheol has made it his job to keep an eye out for competition… but at the same time, Seungcheol’s not about to watch all the male camboys. No, he’s taken to watching the girls, seeing what works, what doesn't-
And then he’d found anonymous, mask and wig-wearing camgirl BabyDoll246, and he’d become obsessed.
You… you can’t be camgirl BabyDoll246… except, it’s your mark, on your thigh- and now that Seungcheol thinks about it, other things are starting to fit too.
“Y/N,” Seungcheol repeats, “Are you camgirl BabyDoll246?”
“Cheol…”
“I’ve got so many business tips for you!” Seungcheol belts out, his grooming as a businessman taking over, without the aid of his usual charming lines, which are blurred by his tispy countenance.
“What?” You blink up at him in confusion. “You’re not mad that I’m a camgirl?”
“Why would I be mad?” Seungcheol asks in shock.
“Because, uh… well, some men are very controlling and protective over the girls they sleep with?”
“Some men need to grow some balls, and also, we haven’t slept together yet.”
“Which brings me back to the fact that I’m in my bra and panties on your bed, so are we doing this, or what?” You chuckle, but there’s a nervousness to it.
Seungcheol gets the impression that the whole camgirl thing is a touchy subject for you. Not many cam people are proud and loud about what they do for work, and Seungcheol knows it’s hard to face the judgment that comes with being an adult entertainer while also trying to get a university degree.
His mind is spinning, and Seungcheol does his best to push it all down.
He thinks maybe he’d had too much to drink earlier, and Seungcheol’s the kind of man who struggles to get hard when he’s been excessive with his alcohol consumption. But he’s not about to pass up this opportunity, not when his mouth still works.
The frat president sinks to his knees, hooking his fingers in your panties to remove them.
“Eat you out now, talk business another time, when I’m sober,” he promises.
“You’re not going to fuck me after eating me out?” you question.
Seungcheol would normally be open about his failings as a man, but now that he knows you’re camgirl BabyDoll246, he doesn’t want to embarrass himself in front of you. So instead, he tells you, “I don’t want to rush things,” then he pulls your core to his tongue.
You don’t question him further, your head lolling back, a whimper escaping you.
God, you sound even prettier in person, and it encourages Seungcheol to go harder, giving you everything his mouth has to give.
He’s watched you cum on toys of all sorts, and he’ll be damned if he can’t make you cum on his tongue.
Three:
You can’t believe you’ve agreed to a ‘buisness meeting’ with Choi Seungcheol- but after he’d made you cum on his tongue three times, you hadn’t been in the mindset to argue with him about anything.
So here you are, after dinner on a Tuesday, walking through the nearly deserted library until you find the frat president in a far corner on his laptop.
Seungcheol waves you over, and he even stands to give you a lingering hug.
“Missed you,” he whispers, and if he didn’t sound so sincere, you might find it laughable.
By now, you’ve worked it out that Seungcheol is a major fanboy of yours. What had felt like a push-pull power dynamic ‘maybe’ relationship has been flipped on its head, and now, you’re acutely aware that you hold all of the cards.
“I made a PowerPoint,” Seungcheol announces as you both sit down next to each other.
“What?”
He opens his laptop, and you find yourself staring at a Google Slides document with the apt title ‘BabyDoll246 - rebranding prospects for financial gain.’ In tiny font at the bottom, there’s a ‘by Choi Seungcheol’ note, and you find yourself laughing.
“You can’t be serious,” you tell him.
“Deadly serious,” he warns you. “Now, if I could have five minutes of your uninterrupted time, I can present this for you.”
You sigh. “Okay, I’m listening.”
“I wanted to start my presentation today by discussing my qualifications,” Seungcheol announces - as if this is some sort of job interview - as he clicks the next slide. “Although I should be maintaining client and marketing manager anonymity, I need you to know that I’m the mastermind behind streamer No Face’s success on OnlyFans. I helped guide him into the world of adult content by keeping his brand simple and focused, which is what I can help you with too.”
He hits the next slide, but pauses momentarily.
“I also want you to know that I think it would be a lot easier for you to get big on OnlyFans because more men watch that kind of shit than women do.”
“Do you have the statistics on that?” you tease.
“In a recent study, OnlyFans estimated that seventy-nine percent of their monthly traffic came from male users, as opposed to twenty-one percent for female users.”
“Oh, you actually had the stats.” You blink at him in shock.
“I’m a business major, I come prepared,” he reminds you. “Anyways, there are a few avenues for growth when it comes to you. First, we need to get your brand narrowed down. I’ve noticed you switch a lot between masks and wigs and lighting, there’s no set mood or colour, which makes it hard for repeat watchers to realize it’s you and not one of the many other anonymous camgirls.”
You consider his words.
“So… you mean like No Face has his whole blue thing, and one mask, and that’s it- you always know it’s him,” you clarify.
“Exactly, you need to find your brand, and stick to it. You can mess around with outfits, but one mask, one wig or wig colour, and one lighting set up.”
“That could work,” you admit.
“I also think it would be interesting for you to have a…” he hits the next slide, which just says, “Camera man.”
You laugh, but then you realize he’s being serious. “Cheol, this is camgirl stuff, it’s not real porn with a real director-”
“But a lot of male audiences like the whole ‘pov’ style of thing, and also, as a man… if I were your camera man, I could help direct you with things your audience would want to see.”
“Oh, so you’re my cameraman now?” you chuckle.
“I think it would help your platform. Not always camera man videos, but sometimes… I’ve also found it helps some cam performers to have a partner behind the camera, someone to talk to, to make the dirty talk more real.”
“Like Wonwoo and his girlfriend?”
“Wonwoo?” Seungcheol’s skin turns pink. “I never mentioned Wonwoo- Wonwoo’s not No Face-”
“Cheol, you don’t have to hide that Wonwoo is No Face, I’m pretty sure everyone knows.” You release a breath and look back down at his PowerPoint. “If I’m being honest, these aren’t the worst ideas in the world.”
“Then think about it,” Seungcheol says. “You don’t have to agree to anything right now, but just… think about it.”
Four:
You’ve taken some of Seungcheol’s suggestions to heart. Getting ready with a pink wig, a pink purge mask and pink lighting, you can’t help but think you might be ripping off No Face- but to be fair, Seungcheol had helped Wonwoo’s marketing, so you’re not stealing anyone’s ideas of Seungcheol’s the one who told you to do this.
If this whole thing works, then it works. You know Wonwoo’s not about to sue you for ‘copyright of camming aesthetics’ or something stupid, so you take a breath and turn the camera on, inspecting yourself on the screen.
One of the good things about the mask is that you can just stare at yourself. There’s no awkward eye contact since no one can see your eyes… however, the mask and wig do get stuffy.
Pushing the uncomfortable sensation aside, you relax against your bed.
You’ve worn a pink babydoll-style lingerie set, and when you spread your thighs, it shows off your crotchless panties.
“I’m so wet already,” you murmur, playing it up for the camera. In the back of your mind, you consider what you’d be saying if Seungcheol were with you right now, so you draw on that for inspiration.
“I’ve been wanting you inside me,” you groan, reaching down to rub your clit. “Want to feel your tongue again, want to feel your thick fingers and your massive cock.”
You can see donations coming in, and you realize Seungcheol was onto something with upping your dirty talk game by being in the moment.
“My little fingers just aren’t enough,” you continue, pushing one inside of yourself. “Maybe I should add another.”
You continue teasing yourself and dirty-talking to the camera until you have enough donations, and then you reach for your vibrator.
Thinking about Seungcheol is making you wetter than than ever before, and as you bring the toy to your clit, you know you’re not going to last long tonight.
You throw your head back, deciding to moan and whimper instead of dirty-talking further. You imagine it’s Seungcheol holding this toy to your clit- and thinking about that brings back the memory of him eating you out, which only makes you more turned on.
God, his tongue had felt so good that night-
You’d gripped his hair, riding his face for the third orgasm, your chest heaving, heart racing, skin clammy from exhaustion.
You get lost in the memory, the tension building in the pit of your stomach. Soon, you’re falling over the edge, your pussy clamping down on nothing while desperately aching for Seungcheol to be filling you up-
You ride out your orgasm, waves of pleasure surging through you with each wiggle of your hips.
Seungcheol’s voice swirls through your head, and as the show comes to an end, you realize you want to take him up on his offer.
Five:
It’s been all of ten minutes since you turned off your cam show, your wig is off, and you’re resting in bed just trying to collect yourself, when there’s a knock at your door.
“Uh… busy?!” you call, thinking it’s a sorority sister.
“It’s me.”
Seungcheol’s voice makes you sit up abruptly. “One second!”
You wrap a robe around your body, nearly falling on your face in an effort to hop off the bed. You unlock your door, opening it to find the business major standing there.
He looks disheveled, frantic even, and he immediately pushes into your room.
“You took my advice,” he says.
“Hmm?”
“I just watched your stream. All pink monochrome colours and aesthetics- of course you’d choose pink, fuck you look so good in pink.” Seungcheol is practically pacing in front of you, and you wrap your rope tighter around your naked body.
“Are you alright?” you ask.
“I got too caught up in drinking and business last time, I should have fucked you, but I didn’t, and you have no idea how much I’ve been regretting that.”
You realize he’s still hung up on the night of the frat party, and you also realize maybe Seungcheol’s been thinking about you as much as you’ve been thinking about him.
“I’m not used to this,” Seungcheol admits, taking a seat on your bed and running his hand through his hair. “I’m a business major, I’m supposed to keep a level head, but fuck- I found out you were BabyDoll246 and I think it just made me feral.”
“You’re cute when you’re a fanboy,” you tease, sitting next to him.
Seungcheol groans, but he accepts it when you open your arms for him, and he cuddles close to your chest, breathing in heavily. You stroke his hair, giving him space to speak.
“I want you,” he says finally. “I want you so fucking bad. I offered the cameraman thing to be close to you, and I’ll still do that for you, I’ll help you with your brand, but- even before I knew you were BabyDoll246, I’ve been into you for months.”
“So why did you never make a move?”
“I’ve got a porn addiction,” he admits. “Well… maybe not an addiction. I’m pretty ingrained in the OnlyFans industry, not personally, but… I’m involved, and I know that can be rough on partnerships in this day and age-”
“So this situation is kind of perfect, huh?” you grin. “Can’t microcheat on me by watching porn if I’m the one you always want to watch.”
Seungcheol chuckles. “Guess that’s true.”
“What if you only like me because I’m BabyDoll246?” you joke.
“Fuck,” Seungcheol shakes his head and lets out a sigh. “I’m going to simp for you so hard.”
“I think you already are,” you grin. “Making me cum three times on your tongue, not even fucking me yourself- how were the blue balls after that party?”
“So bad.”
“And how are they right now after watching my show?”
“Maybe you should take my pants off and see for yourself,” Seungcheol teases.
You stare at him for a moment, and then you sink to your knees next to the bed. You push open his thighs, hands reaching for his button and zipper.
“Shit,” Seungcheol cusses, letting out a shaky breath as you begin to tug his pants down.
“Didn’t think I’d actually do it, did you?” you grin.
“I guess not,” he chuckles, swallowing thickly. “Are you sure about this?”
“I am, are you?”
Seungcheol nods. “Yeah, but uh… no pressure.”
Now it’s your turn to laugh, and you pause to look up at him. “Seungcheol, you made me cum three times with your mouth, I think you deserve this in return.”
“I don’t uh… keep track like that,” he says shyly.
“Then don’t keep track. Sit back, relax, and let me do this.”
Seungcheol nods, watching you carefully as you hook your fingers in his underwear, tearing them down his legs.
God, he’s so thick. His shoulders are broad, his thighs are juicy, and his cock looks like something out of a fever dream, all hard and big-
He might have the biggest cock you’ve ever seen, and when you wrap your hand around the base, you realize you’re already practically drooling.
“Try not to choke,” Seungcheol says, and you flash a glare up at him.
“For someone who seems shy at points, you’re actually pretty cocky aren’t you?”
“I mean…” he bites his lip, “I think I’ve got a lot to work with.”
You have no response to that, because it’s true. You simply shake your head, taking a breath before leaning forward.
You start by licking at his tip, teasing it while he groans above you. You like his sounds, and they prompt you to take more of him into your mouth. You continue to suckle on him, paying attention to the sensitive mushroom head.
Men always want more, they always want to see how much you can fit inside your mouth- so to start like this, well, it will tease Seungcheol and make him even more eager for you than he already is.
His hand finds your hair, and he strokes you as you suck on him.
“Feels good,” he groans, shifting a little so he can lean back, his other hand now pressed against your mattress.
You moan a sound of affirmation, sinking down on him further.
“Fuck,” Seungcheol breathes. “You’re so good at this.”
You’re a glutton for praise, and you do your best to hollow your cheeks, moving up and down on his length.
When it comes to sexual activities, blow jobs aren’t usually at the top of your preference list, but there’s something about pleasuring this man- about hearing him come undone for you.
He’s this big, strong, business major and frat president- but right now, he’s putty in your hands… and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t feeling extremely powerful from this.
You’re practically slurping on him now, your mouth starting to make obscene sounds from the effort, and Seungcheol echoes the noises with groans and grunts of his own.
“Fuck, baby, I don’t want to cum from this.”
You pull off of him. “Then don’t cum?”
He lets out a shocked laugh. “It’s not that easy.”
“No?” You trail your tongue from his base to his tip. “Can’t control yourself?”
Seungcheol meets your gaze, and you see something harden in his eyes.
“No, I can’t.”
He grabs you suddenly, lifting you off the ground and tossing you onto the bed.
Then Seungcheol stands up, tearing off his shirt so he’s now naked for you. God, he’s so gorgeous- he’s all big and muscled and-
Seungcheol reaches down, opening your robe with one motion, and just like that, you’re both naked.
“Condoms?” Seungcheol asks.
“I’m protected, as long as you’re not some STI-riddled frat boy.”
“I’m clean,” he laughs.
“Me too.”
“So… you’re okay with this?”
“Stop talking and fuck me,” you whine, opening your thighs to expose yourself to him.
You’re wet already, and it’s not just from the orgasms you’d had on cam half an hour ago. No, you’re more turned on than you ever have been before, your pussy already practically aching for something- anything, to lessen the feeling of complete emptiness.
Seungcheol joins you on the bed, and your thighs wrap around his hips.
He presses his lips to yours eagerly, your tongues immediately clashing in a passionate dance.
Your hands grab his strong shoulders, and you love the feeling of your chests pressed together like this. Seungcheol moans, rutting his hips so he can grind down against your wet core.
The sensation of his hard cock teasing your clit has you whimpering, and the kiss deepens.
You’re eager for him, but just as you’d played around by making him wait when you sucked him off, it seems Seungcheol is intent on making you be patient as well.
God, each grind of his hips has your core tensing, your clit nearly throbbing with need.
“Seungcheol,” you whimper, breaking the kiss so you can gasp at the feeling. “Please-”
His lips move down to your throat, and he teases your sweet spot there, making you moan even louder.
“Please!” you say again, with more force.
This time, Seungcheol does as you ask, his hand slipping between your bodies to grab the base of his cock. He lines himself up with your core, slowly sinking into you inch by inch.
You gasp at the stretch, loving the feeling of his big cock as it splits you open.
“Fuck,” Seungcheol groans. “So fucking tight.”
You can’t say anything in response, you can only writhe against your bed, your core finally appeased. The sensation of his thick length working every inch of your inner walls- it has you feeling dizzy already, and when he begins to thrust, your mind goes practically blank except for the pleasure that washes over you.
Seungcheol adjusts your thigh, spreading you open so he can sink even deeper. He hits every spot perfectly, and you feel feral as you lay there, taking everything he can give while moaning like a whore in heat.
“You look so good like this,” Seungcheol tells you, panting from the effort. “Could fuck you for hours.”
“Cheol- I’m sensitive!” you warn him.
“Came a few times on cam, but you can still take more, right?” He lets out a small laugh. “What would be the point if you can’t take more?”
“I can cum,” you tell him, nodding enthusiastically. “Just- don’t break me.”
“In one of your shows, you came five times, I think that’s your limit. You just came three times on your show tonight, so I think that gives me two to work with.”
Your muscles clench at the idea of cumming two more times tonight, but you’re not about to argue with him, so instead you just whimper, “Please.”
“Anything for you, baby.”
Seungcheol pulls out of you suddenly, and you look at him in confusion, only for his lips to wrap around your nipple. He gropes your other breast, and you can’t help but moan, tangling your fingers in his hair desperately.
He gives your chest the attention it deserves, and then his mouth continues its descent.
Seungcheol is lying on the bed now, his hands adjusting your thighs so they’re braced over his shoulders.
“Been thinking about eating this pussy every fucking day,” he tells you.
“Me too,” you admit.
“Yeah? Bet you were thinking about it during your show earlier.”
“I was,” you whimper, wiggling against the bed, your clit stimulated from his breath alone.
“Guess I shouldn’t make you wait.”
Seungcheol dives in, not holding anything back as he pushes his tongue into your core, rubbing his nose against your clit at the same time.
Your thighs are already beginning to shake, and you grab at the bedding, trying to keep yourself anchored while your muscles begin to tense.
Neither of you needs to say anything else. It’s clear Seungcheol has a goal in mind, and he’s quickly approaching the finish line. There’s something so sexy about a man who’s messy while eating you out, a man who clearly enjoys himself and doesn’t hold anything back.
“Shit,” you whimper, feeling the build up as it begins to tingle through you.
Seungcheol groans against your core, turning his attention to your clit. At the same time he shifts so he can push two fingers into your wet pussy, crooking them so he can stimulate your g-spot.
“Just like that!” you cry out. “Don’t stop!”
Seungcheol has no intentions of stopping, and he works you all the way to your high.
“Cumming!” you announce, core clamping down on his fingers as intense throbbing errupts through you.
You know enough about Seungcheol from the last three times he made you cum with his mouth to know he’s not the type of man who stops the moment you orgasm. No, he’s the type to work you through it, to eat you out with even more vigour until your legs are shaking, your heart is racing, and you’re physically pushing him away.
You’re still sensitive from cumming on cam, so it takes very little for you to reach the point of being overstimulated.
One push to his head makes Seungcheol pull away, and he looks up at you.
You’re both breathing heavily, and you watch him lick his lips, his pupils blown as he stares at you.
“That was one of two,” he warns you, and you would find it comical that he’s keeping track like this if you weren’t so overwhelmed from that orgasm.
You open your arms, a wordless urging for him to join you again.
But Seungcheol doesn’t comply, instead, he moves to sit next to you, his back against your headboard.
“Come here,” he says softly, helping you up. You straddle him, and he guides you down onto his cock, which fills your still aching core deliciously.
You both groan from the sensation, and you simply cockwarm him while you get your bearings.
He begins to kiss you, soft kisses that tease your skin.
One of his hands begins to massage your breast, and you let out a sigh of pleasure, throwing your head back.
You grab at his shoulders to anchor yourself, beginning to circle your hips so you can feel how deep he is inside of you.
Seungcheol wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer, his lips now moving to your throat.
“You look so good like this,” he tells you, and your core throbs from his words.
You take a breath, steadying yourself so you can begin to move.
Bouncing is effort, and you know you’re not going nearly as fast as Seuncgheol can go when it comes to fucking, but he doesn’t seem to mind. He lavishes on you, kissing your body, groping your breasts, all the while moaning, which turns you on even more.
Soon, he’s grabbing your hips, helping you bounce on him. You love how fucking strong he is, the way his biceps bulge with effort.
There’s something so slow and sensual about this, for you to be on top but still controlled by him. It feels amazing, and you feel very close to Seungcheol. There’s no rush; it’s simply an enjoyment of each other, and it allows you to lose yourself in the feeling.
However, soon, you can’t help yourself.
Your hand reaches for your clit, and your entire pussy clenches around Seungcheol as you begin to rub your sensitive bud.
“Fuck,” Seungcheol groans, moving you faster on his cock.
“Want you to cum with me,” you whimper, eyes closed as you focus entirely on the feeling beginning to build inside of you again.
“Let me know when you’re close,” he tells you, continuing to bounce you on his cock.
You give yourself grace to enjoy the build-up, there’s no pressure or time constraints, and soon, you’re nodding. “Okay, I’m almost there.”
Seungcheol nods, and with one motion, he flips you onto your back so you’re in missionary again. Now he has full control, and Seungcheol begins to fuck you fast and hard. It’s a contrast to the slow way you’d been moving on top of him, and the new change of pace feels amazing.
You rub your clit even harder, your eyes clenching shut as you get closer and closer to the edge-
“Cheol!” you whimper.
“I’m almost there, too,” he tells you, panting against your throat.
“Fuck, fuck-” Your entire body tenses, and then you fall over the edge. Your pussy clamps down on Seungcheol like a vice and he groans deeply, signalling his own release as he fucks you through your shared high.
You’re both gasping, panting, and clutching each other desperately, with Seungcheol all but burying his face against your throat. You thread your fingers through his hair, holding him close as his motions start to slow.
The pleasure is surging through you, all the more amplified by the sensation of closeness with Seungcheol.
Soon, he comes to a stop, and you hold him tight, both of you just trying to catch your breath.
You feel Seungcheol swallow, and he pulls away from your neck, looking down at you. “That was amazing.”
“It was,” you agree, teasing your thumb across his cheekbone. “So… you’re my new cameraman.”
He chuckles. “Going to be hard to watch you do any solo things.”
“You’ll just fuck me right after, like this,” you say simply.
“Fuck, what a life.”
☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! If you're interested in Wonwoo's chapter about No Face, find it here
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🔮 preview. Seungcheol has been learning your body, inside and out, and you love that he’s taken the time to understand what makes you tick.
cw/ tw. Unprotected sex, cam show/ porn, dirty talk, multiple sex positions, multiple reader orgasms, cum kink, creampie kink, sexual catering to audience, use of vibrator toy, spanking, ‘pov’ video filming, Seungcheol is her mute fuck toy for the cam show, overstim, squirting, hand job, masturbation, edging, etc… I petnames. (hers) baby.
👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2.1k I teaser wc. 130
🌙 starring. Choi Seungcheol x afab!Reader
bonus
It’s been a few months of Seungcheol being your cameraman, and your streams have definitely improved.
It helps to have a businessman with a vision in your corner, and when he’s behind the camera, it’s especially helpful for your content. Seungcheol brings realism to everything, because you can almost act as if there’s no camera at all. It’s just you and Seungcheol, and that taste of reality has brought in a ton of new subscribers.
He’s your official boyfriend now, but you know he’s been whipped for you from the start. Any man who’s willing to help their girlfriend succeed in the adult content industry is a bit of a simp, but you kind of love that about Seungcheol. In fact, you wouldn’t want it any other way.
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#seungcheol#thediamondlifenetwork#seungcheol smut#choi seungcheol#choi seungcheol smut#svt#svt smut#seventeen#seventeen smut#scoups#scoups smut#s.coups#s.coups smut#seungcheol x reader#seungcheol x reader smut#seungcheol svt#svt seungcheol
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" LEMME HIT YOU WITH THAT DUMB DICK ! "
𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 — dazai, chuuya, jouno (+ tecchou), oda, sigma x fem!reader
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 & 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 — [n]sfw content, somnophilia, these are random scenarios ok don't come at me, degradation, humiliation, doggystyle, rough, getting caught, pussy slapping, s.ex at work, oral (m & f receiving), fingering, piv, unprotected s.ex (be careful babes), praise, creampie + etc • this was originally supposed to be their fav places to fuck but i had to scrap that bc i lost motivation :') anyway, happy reading and i hope you enjoy !! not proofread soz babes
ps. reblog to show your favorite writers support, they're greatly appreciated ! <3
⁰¹ 𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈 — fucking you in a storage room of the agency
This man is a sex fiend, so of course he would love to fuck you literally anywhere anytime. Though he can't lie, being balls deep in your juicy little cunt at work — risking both of your dignities and possibly your jobs has him harder than a fucking rock.
"Osamu— what if we g-get caugh— mmh-!" you let out a muffled moan as dazai delivered a particularly harsh thrust into your cunt, effectively shutting you up. "Relaaaax, sweet thing — almost no one c-comes here — fuck, you're so damn tight," Dazai panted into your ear, hot breath making a chill run down your spine — back arching even further against his chest.
"God, you're so good f'me — so warm 'n right, fuck!" each word was rushed, dripping with lust — the desperation in his voice made you wanna look at his pretty face, pussy clenching just from imagining how good he'd look with his hair disheveled — his usual doe eyes narrowed and a deep blush covering his skin, sweat dripping down his forehead and making his hair stick to his forehead —
Your train of thought got cut off abruptly when Dazai slapped his hand over your mouth, before his hushed voice reached your ears, "shh, stay still f'me, sweetheart."
You were about to question it when you heard the president's voice from just behind the door. The door of the room you were currently getting your back blown out in.
"Yes, I keep hearing strange noises from this one room in particular," you heard fukuzawa's muffled voice — the thought of your boss catching you in the act made your pussy flutter around Dazai’s length, making the brunette grunt in response.
"Are you trying to get us caught, darl'?" Dazai hissed into your ear — oops, you unintentionally clenched down again upon hearing the keys jingle from the other side of the door. Luckily Dazai was ready for it this time, and managed to bite down on your shoulder before he could get a sound out.
"W-what do we do, 'samu? He’s gonna come in!" you whisper-yelled, panic settling in your bones when you saw the doorknob rattle — but before he could unlock the door fully, you heard the high pitched voice of another worker, "president! an important client has come to personally see you."
"Hm, alright. looks like i'll have to tell someone else to take a look in this room later. Let’s go,"
You let out a breath of relief once the footsteps faded away, leaving you both in complete silence until dazai decided to speak up —
"You clenched reaaal hard when he was about to open the door — don't tell me you actually wanted us to get caught, did you, naughty girl?"
⁰² 𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐔𝐘𝐀 — having you suck him off in his office
Chuuya's job as an executive of the mafia is stressful, to say the least. Not to mention some of the idiotic workers not doing their job right never fails to make his blood pressure go especially high — his anger issues doesn't help his case at all. But what does help is his sweet sweet girlfriend giving him some... 'under the table service' at work.
Chuuya's fist slammed against the hardwood desk, a loud 'thwack!' echoing in the room,
"What the fuck were you thinking?!" he sneered at the poor man in front of him — who couldn't help but flinch at seeing his boss so angry at him failing to complete a simple report.
Truth be told, Chuuya wasn’t really that mad at the worker, for the report at least — he was just.. super on edge from you deep-throating his cock under the goddamn table. He struggled to think properly, and the poor worker interrupting his private moment with you really ticked him off. Can you really blame him though?
How could he think straight with your skilled tongue swirling around his glossy tip so sinfully — fucking tease. Oh and the way you peered up at him through lowered lashes, your eyes glazed with a dreamy haze.
It all made his head spin like crazy.
“-ir, I can re-do it if you would like me to..” Chuuya’s train of thought unfortunate got cut off short, blue eyes snapping back to the man before him — right, the report.
“A-ahem — alright. Have it finished by 6 pm.”
Chuuya hated the way his voice cracked, fingernails digging into the palms of his hands as he tried not to moan out loud when you fully took him nose deep in that right, sweet little throat— shamelessly rutting your hips into his crazy expensive slacks, rubbing your juices all over the smooth, polished material.
You felt Chuuya’s fingers entangle themselves in your hair immediately after hearing the ‘click’ of the door shutting — the guy must’ve finally left.
You couldn’t help but gasp as you were pulled up from the cold, hard floor — and being shoved onto the desk instead.
You felt your pussy throb in your lacy panties as Chuuya spread your legs open — two fingers pressing and prodding at your cunt before sliding the flimsy material to the side,
“Now, let’s get into the real fun, shall we darl’?”
⁰³ 𝐉𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐎 — teaching tecchou how to eat you out properly
Jouno was a good friend. Even though he might've had a tendency to be a little harsh and.. sadistic at times, he wasn't a bad person. I mean, he had to be atleast a decent person for teaching his inexperienced co-worker how to eat pussy — specifically, his own girlfriend's.
"No, not like that you fucking idiot —" Jouno grumbled, pulling Tecchou's head off of your cunt as he blinked in confusion like a lost puppy, sticky strings of your arousal still attached to his lips. "What do you mean? She's clearly enjoying it.."
"I mean that you can do better. You do want to make her feel fuckin' amazing, don't you?" Jouno raised a questioning brow. "Well, of cour—" "Then start acting like it."
A gasp left your honeyed lips when Tecchou's face was pushed back against your cunt — hot tongue working with even more fervor as he ate you out like he had been starving for days.
"Oh fuck — feels so g-good, sai," you whimpered out — head thrown back and your tongue threatening to loll out from the sheer pleasure the man between your legs was giving you. "Yeah, baby? Feels good when Tecchou eats that sweet cunt out reaaaaal good, huh?" Jouno's tone was condescending — his lips curled up into a cocky smirk.
“Y’smell so sweet - taste so sweet -” Tecchou's voice was low and dripping with need — your pussy throbbed from just how desperate he sounded.
"A-ah shit - can feel you throbbin' on my tongue, princess —" he groaned, tongue flattening against your clit as he shook his head side to side.
You babbled out Jouno’s name like a prayer — all while the man between your legs worshipped your cunt like it was his god, pink tongue repeatedly flicking your clit, making you see stars as your hole stretched around two of his slim fingers.
“Please — wanna c-cum s’ba- mmh!- ,” you let out a strangled noise as a harsh slap landed on your soaked pussy, clit throbbing as you threw your head back once more. “Fuckin’ slut, so damn eager to cum on another man’s tongue in front of your boyfriend, hmm?”
“Don’t — ah fuck, squeezin’ so tight ‘round my fingers, baby - don’t be so mean, Jouno,” Tecchou threw a side glare to the man next to him, which only earned a shrug from said man, “quit talking and enjoy the meal, dumbass. She’s close.”
And enjoy the meal he did — lapping up every single drop of your sweet juices so enthusiastically you’d think that he hadn’t eaten in days.
⁰⁴ 𝐎𝐃𝐀 — morning sex with him
Mornings with your husband, Oda Sakunosuke, were sweet, blissful and filled with love. Sometimes he'd surprise you with breakfast in bed, it's the least he can do considering everything that you do for him, is what he says. But sometimes — you crave him instead of the delicious food.
“My pretty girl,” Oda smiled sleepily, moving some of your hair out of your face to admire your effortless beauty — blissfully unaware to how his deep morning voice made your heart flutter in your chest, and your pussy throb with need.
You grinned back, scooting closer into his arms as you gazed into his deep brown eyes, “pretty enough to fuck?”
Oda raised a questioning eyebrow, full lips curling into a grin, "oh? that's the game we're playing, love?" Strong arms wrapped around your bare figure, the marks of last night still fresh on your skin — a reminder to how he fucked you dumb on his cock only a few hours prior.
You felt your face burn from the memories of last night rushing back into you — god, you two were insatiable - you're sure Oda fucked you in every single position in the book, and it did nothing but make you crave him more.
"Still with me, darling?" he lightly tapped your cheek, snapping you back to the present. You nodded, a gasp falling from your lips as big, calloused hands found themselves groping at your tits, pinching at your cute nipples as he pressed open mouthed kisses on your neck — his stubble tickling the sensitive skin there.
"O-oda—"
"shhh, baby — lemme do all the work, yeah?"
And that's how you ended up with your face pressed into the pillows — silken bedsheets tangled around your bodies as Oda fucked his fat girth into your sopping cunt nice 'n deep.
A large hand was pressing your back into the meanest arch ever — strong hips slamming against the fat of your plush ass with each deep thrust, thick mushroom tip prodding at your g-spot - making you bleat out your husband's name pitifully. Oda only pushed your head deeper into the soft pillows — clearly too lost in the feeling of your velvety walls clenching around him.
He watched his cock slipped in and out of your pussy so easily — your slick covering his balls down to his thighs. Oda groaned deeply in his throat as he watched a creamy ring form around the base of his cock — your cunt sucking him in so eagerly that he almost thought it hurt for you to let him go.
You let out a particularly loud moan as Oda's cock hit that one spot in you — you could only bite down on the pillow as your eyes shut closed, pussy slobbering shamelessly all over his length.
"Oh? Did you like— argh! - t-that spot, sweet girl?"
⁰⁵ 𝐒𝐈𝐆𝐌𝐀 — fucking you in your sleep
Sigma was a busy man — with running the sky casino and being part of the decay of angels didn't leave too much alone time with just him and you — especially for some.. intimacy. You knew he needed to relieve himself someway — all that workload while being pent up as fuck certainly wasn't good for him. Plus, you have been craving him as well.. so you came up with an easy solution.
The door to your shared bedroom clicked open — your beloved boyfriend, Sigma, letting himself in as his eyes racked over the entire room, searching for anything out of the ordinary — you did tell him that you had a surprise for him, after all.
Upon finding nothing, he stalked over to the bed, confusion lacing his features as he glanced over at your sleeping form. Slender hands slowly slipped the soft blanket off of you and oh —
It all clicked suddenly.
The lavender coloured lace suited your complexion so perfectly, the expensive material hugging your features like it was made for you. Sigma gulped, eyes fixating on the way your tits were practically spilling out of the flimsy fabric — your stiff nipples very much visible to his hungry gaze.
It wasn't long before he had his face buried between your plush thighs — Sigma was so desperate, not even bothering to take the lingerie off your body. Besides, why would he when you just looked way too good in it?
He was practically eating you out through the thin lace — nose bumping against your clothed clit as his tongue tried to push deeper into your cunt. You had him in a chokehold — but he couldn't care less.
Sigma's slim hips were rutting into the expensive sheets — precum leaking from his sensitive tip as he tried his best not to cum untouched just from tasting your sweet pussy, but fuck, you were making it so hard for him.
He felt his cock throb in his pants when you started letting out soft moans and sighs in your sleep — or were you even asleep anymore? He didn't know and neither did he care — mind too focused on making you cum on his pretty face.
"ohh s-shit — best surprise - sluurrp - e-ever—" he whined into your cunt, spitting directly into your sticky hole before slurping it all back up.
Safe to say, he definitely enjoyed your little surprise.
© 𝐎𝐒𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐘𝐎 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 ─ do not copy/translate/repost and/or recommend any of my works on different platfroms under any circumstances. reblogs greatly appreciated !
#bungou stray dogs#bungou stray dogs x reader#bungou stray dogs x reader smut#bungou stray dogs smut#bsd#bsd smut#bsd x reader smut#bsd x reader#dazai smut#dazai x reader#dazai x reader smut#chuuya x reader#chuuya smut#chuuya x reader smut#jouno x reader#jouno smut#jouno x reader smut#tecchou smut#tecchou x reader#tecchou x reader smut#oda smut#oda x reader#oda x reader smut#sigma x reader#sigma smut#sigma x reader smut#dazai osamu#chuuya nakahara#jouno saigiku#tecchou suehiro
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streamer!kozume kenma x wife!reader
notes: fluff + crack, this is 100% taken from a kenz & kydae moment i think about regularly, lowercase intended, married, brainrot, food mention, can be read as a stand alone but i have a part one and two to this series!!!
it was finally the day kenma hit his subscriber goal on twitch which was “ xx subs for cooking stream w the wife” so when time came, he made sure to clear the background for anything that might put you two’s safety at risk. he already asked you beforehand if you wanted to do this in the first place and what time you wanted to. he stated sternly that if you wanted to back out— even if it was in the middle of the stream and he was mixing ingredients for something— the second you felt uncomfortable, he’d stop the stream. his priority is always you.
you were very much a cook unlike your husband who’s somehow burnt hot chocolate before, so you decided on what to make! “szechuan beef with white rice sound good?” you say, looking up recipes. “anything you want.”
you put kenma in charge of the rice whilst prepping the meat. anytime you’d have to turn your back to the camera, kenma always lingered right behind you, draping his arm on your hip whenever he could.
once the rice was cooked, you pulled your sleeves down to cover your hands as makeshift mittens to hold the rice container. you tilted the bowl for the camera to capture. “rice looks nice and fluffy.. so ken can cook good rice at least!” you tease, laughing softly. “y/n is that not hot?” kenma says with a raised eyebrow, watching the steam coming off the top. “it’s not that hot, i can hold it.”
“A-ahh BRO! y/n that’s h-HOT-!! WE HAVE MITTENS, LET ME HOLD IT! YOUR HANDS ARE GONNA BURN!!!” “kozu, it’s fine, i’m literally holding it.” “What do you mean?! Owsssshttt.. I LITERALLT HAVE THE MITTENS ON AND I CAN STILL FEEL IT!” in the end, kenma put the rice on a heat resistant mat and he ran your hands through some cold water. the live chat was racing with comments.
steinogfineshyt: bro doesn’t understand the ‘cooking hands’
bxngchnz: did he call his wife bro????
souleaterpeak: KENMA LOOKS SO STUPID WITH MITTENS IM FRYINGGGG
kaikamalhuening: kenma valid crashout
alhaithamkisser: y/n +134340 aura, kenma -12700 aura
levimalewife: that was so sigma alpha male of y/n
mammonscreditcard: does y/n need a wife
kkumacoups: blah blah blah proper name place name backstory stuff ahh kenma bro 😭😭
shokoscigarette: y/n i love you please don’t die
“my wife is mine to love and she will never die.” kenma scoffed at the screen before turning back to you, just completely enamored, like it was his first time ever laying his eyes on you again.
notes: HELLO THANK YOUR FOR 2.1K NOTES + 100 FOLLOWES WHAT?! (ᯅ̈ )erm guys im just a girl who’s insanely brainrotted pls don’t expect so much but im soso grateful for all the support (ᵒ̴̶̷̥́ ·̫ ᵒ̴̶̷̣̥̀) !!!!this will probably be a pending series from here as i give up on things in three (3) seconds lawl ALSO PLS TRY SZECHUAN BEEF IF YOU HAVENT ALREADY ITS SO BOMB
#emizsc#haikyu fluff#haikyu x reader#haikyuu#haikyuu kenma#haikyuu x reader#hq kenma#kenma fluff#kenma x reader#kodzuken#kozume kenma#kenma x you#kenma x y/n
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bend my rules | jjk

in which jeongguk jeon, the frattiest of all frat boys, has been trying to get you to go out with him since freshman year, no success. what if the events that occur in junior year change your opinion on jeongguk and you actually give him a chance?
rich! jeongguk x reader
warnings: detailed virginity loss (minors, go away!), use of yn, jk is a little dumb sometimes but he’s a sweetheart, jk is a frat boy, minor mention of SA (nothing too triggering (i hope)), i love yn, taehyung mention 🫶🏼, yn is thick asfff (#needthat), desperate jk, use of both jeongguk and jungkook (i’m an indecisive bitch sorry), he gets the girl!
another scenario with this couple ‘couple’s getaway’ !
——-
Jeongguk needs no introduction. There was not a single soul at Berkeley University that didn’t know of him. Even the freshmen got introduced to who he was on their first day. With a powerful presence, daddy’s money, and unfortunately for you, a gorgeous, gorgeous face and muscles for days, Jeongguk takes the entire world by storm. He had that something about him that makes every guy want to befriend him and makes every girl want to be with him.
He was a business administration major, now in his senior year; his goal? To take over his father’s many businesses when he graduates. He could have done that without college, but his family put a lot of importance on education.
He was simultaneously in a frat and also lived alone in a penthouse off campus. You always wondered how he was allowed to be in the frat if he wasn’t living in the fraternity itself. But he’s the king of Kappa Sigma; they couldn’t vote him out. You met Jungkook at a party thrown by a friend’s friend, who is also friends with Jungkook, during the second semester of freshman year. He approached you with charming confidence, asking for your number. You declined politely, and he has not left you alone since—following you around, asking you out, giving you gifts, inviting you to parties that you never ended up attending, asking your friends about you, pretending to share your interests to get closer to you, and so on and so forth.
The one thing that was good about freshman and sophomore year was that you had no classes with Jungkook. So the last two years, you had Jungkook-less classes, except for the ones he decided to barge into uninvited and declare his love for you. Junior year came, and with it, Jungkook decided to sign himself up for the 18th-century literature class with Professor Sullivan.
Your major was English literature.
Professor Sullivan’s class was one of your favorites—the debates, the topics, the atmosphere. Also, the fact that Professor Sullivan liked you a lot. The topic of this lesson was: the role of women in literature in the 18th century.
"Women in the 18th century played very crucial roles as empowered figures; that is a fact. Authors like Mary Wollstonecraft, for example; she challenged societal expectations and wrote incredibly critical narratives that advocated for women’s rights,” you argued with a steady voice.
From across from you, you heard a voice you dreaded. "Yn, no one can argue with you about the existence of women authors at the time, but were they really all that empowering? I mean, they pretty much all were dependent on men. For example, ‘Oroonoko,’ written by a woman, yet it represents a male hero, while the female perspective is secondary.”
“Well, Ben, if you had taken my argument or really, any historical context into consideration, you would understand that, male hero aside, a woman producing literature of any kind in that era meant that she was asserting herself in a male-dominant, or rather, in a female-submissive world, and that in itself is resistance. It embodies power. I rest my case."
Ben was about to open his mouth to argue back when the door to the lecture hall interrupted him.
"Mr. Jeon, you are half an hour late," Professor Sullivan spoke to the interrupter.
In that moment, Ben became the least of your worries, sexism and all. You felt as if your life was upside down and you couldn’t get it up. What the hell was he doing in this class? This isn’t even his thing; he will fail! He will fail miserably!
"I sincerely apologize, Professor. It won’t happen again," the deep voice apologized before stepping forward and finding a seat.
As his piercing brown eyes found yours, the usual smirk found its place on his lips, and them and their owner made their way directly towards you. He sat down with the same expression on his face. "Hey, gorgeous. Miss me over the summer?"
He put his muscular arm around your shoulder and kept his head tilted to the side to stare at you, admiring the beauty before him from head to toe. You were wearing flared jeans and a tight pink long-sleeve shirt that accentuated your generous breasts. "Cute outfit, baby. Pink is your color; I’ll make sure to buy you lingerie in that same shade."
Before you could answer, Mr. Sullivan stated: "Mr. Jeon, we were just discussing the woman’s role in 18th-century literature. I am sure Ms. Ln will fill you in on what you have missed so far, but I wish for you to pay attention to the rest of the lecture. I know Ms. Ln is much prettier than I am; nonetheless, I hope you can find it in yourself to pay more attention to me and less to her."
The whole hall broke out in laughter, amused at the professor’s wit. Jungkook just continued smirking at you, seemingly also amused at the professor, and you sat in silence for the rest of the lecture, blushing.
The lecture ended quickly after, all the students making their way out, and you would’ve done so as well, but you needed to have a little talk with the man sitting beside you first.
"What are you doing here?" you nearly hissed at Jungkook, who was still sitting, your arms crossed around your chest.
"What do you mean, baby?" he provoked. "You don’t want me here or something?"
One thing that can be said about Jungkook was that he was a very persistent man. Even after your countless rejections, he somehow managed to come back stronger, bigger, and harder to fight off.
"You know I don’t want you here! What are you even doing here in the first place, Jungkook? What do you want?" Your hands were on your full hips as you questioned him.
He looked up at you with a shimmer of amusement and a raised eyebrow, his eyes tracing every curve. "You know, Yn, you look really good from this angle."
The thought of kicking him in the head came to you, but you fought it off. "Answer my question."
"I’m not gonna answer a question you already know the answer to. You know damn well why I’m here; I want you, and I wanna see you, and I want you to finally go out with me so we can live happily ever after and put me out of my misery," he proclaimed, with the spirit of Romeo possessing him.
"You just did, though," you noted with a smirk.
"Huh?"
"You just answered a question I already know the answer to." With that, you grabbed your bag and swayed away from the man, who was too distracted watching you walk away to comprehend that you were gone.
___
On a Friday night, you had a lot you could do: read a new book, talk to your mom, whom you hadn’t seen in two months on the phone, organize a sleepover with your friends and watch a movie, finish the five essays you haven’t finished yet, go off campus and try new food, and if you don’t like it, get the food you know and like and eat it.
But in Avery’s opinion, there was nothing better to do than to go to the Kappa Sigma party. You would usually not necessarily disagree; a party is sometimes exactly what you needed, but not this Friday and not at Kappa Sigma.
"Avery, did you forget the 100 times that I have told you he is now in my 18th-century lit class? I had to see him three times this week for almost an hour each lecture. Those are three hours where I had to see him, where I had to hear him speak," you dramatically articulated. "And if you count the times that I have seen him in the halls, and the one time I saw him in the library, and the one time he came into my poetry class and sat there, watching me for 20 minutes before Professor Sinclair told him to leave, and the one time he came here to give me flowers and ask me out, that makes like a hundred thousand hours that I had to see him this week. I do not wanna go to his party!"
Your roommates all looked at you like you just fell down from an alien spaceship. Nora was the first one to react. "Your math skills are really bad, Yn."
Avery rolled her eyes. "True, but that’s besides the point; Yn, why are you whining that the hottest and richest guy at this entire university wants you and has been wanting you for the last two years? That’s a flex, girl! Now, go put on a sexy ass outfit on that sexy ass bod and let’s. go. out."
"Woooo!" you heard Sasha yell from the kitchen, making you crack a smile amid your misery.
"Alright, but next Friday, I choose what we do," you claimed, with full intention of keeping that promise.
_
You and all four of your roommates arrived at the Kappa Sigma house with outfits that nobody else could compete with. You were wearing a tight, black off-shoulder shirt and a red mini skirt that emphasized your already emphasized thickness. Topped off with soft glam makeup and black heels, you felt like a real woman.
"Welcome, ladies," the deep voice that could only belong to Taehyung greeted you. "Sasha."
"Hi, Tae," Sasha purred, her hands quickly finding his neck, leaning into a passionate kiss.
These two had been a couple for a few months now, after a whole year of being on and off. Despite the stereotypes of frat boys, Taehyung knew how to treat his girl right.
You entered the house with one friend less; Sasha disappeared with Taehyung into the chaos that is the current state of this house. Your other roommates quickly disappeared as well, much to your dismay.
Now, your goal was to socialize, maybe drink a little something, but not too much because of the essays that you would have to write the next day. Your eyes scanned the house for a familiar face, and it landed on one.
One that was looking you up and down with hunger. He signaled you to come over where he was sitting with a bunch of girls and one other guy. You shook your head no, so he came over.
"Yn! I’m glad you came, baby." He hugged you, and you only half-hugged him back. "You look gorgeous, of course."
"Thanks, Jeongguk," you said politely.
You and he had a complex relationship; the first time he saw you, he showed romantic interest in you, showering you with affection and gifts. He never stopped. You always rejected him, no exceptions, even at times where you wanted nothing more than to say yes. Yet he was always kind to you, and you were kind to him (most of the time). Your mutual friends always brought you together; it was as if you couldn’t escape one another—to his pleasure and to your dismay.
"Lemme get you something to drink," he went into the kitchen and came back with a soda can. "Here, I know you usually don’t drink, so I got you a cola; hope that’s fine."
"It is, thank you," you smiled softly and started drinking the cola. "So, you’re interested in literature this year."
You only started a conversation because you knew he would not leave your side the entire night anyway, and you would prefer it if you picked the topic of conversation instead of him.
"Hell yeah, I love me some Samuel L. Jackson," he stated, making you laugh.
"You mean Samuel Johnson, you idiot," you said, giggling as you pushed his strong arm playfully.
He watched you giggle, gazing as if you hung the stars. "Yeah, yeah, same thing, same thing." With his boyish smile, he said, "Look, I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable by signing up for the same class as you. It was kinda out of pocket, even for my standards. I know the last person you wanna see is me, so if you want me to drop it, I will."
Your jaw metaphorically dropped at Jungkook’s words. Those are words that came out of Jungkook’s mouth? Does that mean that he will leave me alone completely if I wish? What does this mean?
A strange emotion settled deep inside you; you started wondering if you had done something wrong or if he perhaps found another girl he wanted to ask out even more than he wanted to ask you out.
"Jungkook, it is your right to choose whatever class you want to be in; I can’t be mad at you for that. Besides, you will learn a lot from Professor Sullivan; he’s great," you reassured him with a sweet voice.
"Yeah?" He grinned, recognizing that this was your way of saying you did not want him to leave.
"Oh yeah, he is a delightful old man. The stories he has to share are amazing. Did you even know he’s married to Professor Martinez? The reason why she hasn’t taken his last name is that he was against it, telling her, ‘Maria, if you take my name, that is erasure. Erasure of your life before my appearance, and erasure of your beautiful Mexican heritage, Maria. Do not change your name to mine; I am technically your oppressor.’ He told us that story maybe about 23 times, and he made sure to roll the r real hard," you found yourself joking with Jungkook, as your mind took you back to Avery’s earlier words.
It was not the first time that your friends said the same words to you; they always expressed their envy and their confusion about the situation with Jungkook. But you were thinking much deeper than them.
Much to everybody’s surprise, you never had a boyfriend, and you were also still a virgin. The most you did was a kiss you shared with a guy at your high school graduation, which you immediately regretted. You had high standards. For yourself, for your future, for your future husband, and for everyone you allowed to enter your life. It was not about not having options; God knows you had many. It was about knowing for sure that the man you give these things to—your trust, your dignity, your virginity, your love—would be the right one, the one that deserved it. The idea that Jungkook—the man who gave you his undivided attention for two years straight and spoiled you without being asked—was perhaps the man for you didn’t sound so unbelievable anymore.
When you were a freshman and before you met him, you heard stories about him—stories of the parties he threw, the money he had, the many girls he fucked. These stories made you cautious, even though he put in real effort to get closer to you, you were hard to impress, and it was even harder for you to get out of your shell of self-protection.
Jungkook howled with laughter at the things you told him about your professor; either he found them genuinely amusing, or he was just laughing because the stories came out of your mouth.
“So, what will you do?” he asked once the laughter died down a bit.
You tilted your head innocently. “What do you mean?”
He looked at you with such tenderness, your innocent eyes captivating him.
“When we get married, will you keep your name, or will you take mine?” he posed the question so casually, yet so longingly.
You shrugged your shoulders elegantly, taking a small sip from your forgotten cola. “I will probably take yours.”
The words you said that Friday night made Jeon Jungkook the happiest man on planet Earth, and probably all the other planets in the universe.
_
“So, you little minx sat down and talked to Jungkook basically the entire fucking party, and you didn’t even get up once? You didn’t even complain about it!” Avery was almost lost for words; key word, almost.
“What’s the big deal? We talked, so what?” you shrugged it off.
“Everybody’s talking about it, you know. They think you might finally give the guy a chance,” Nora chimed in. “I always knew you would eventually cave; I mean, with those arms and that black card, I would’ve folded a long time ago. There’s a rumor he has a seven-inch dick, by the way.”
Just as you were about to say something, Sasha entered the living room, having just finished talking to Taehyung on the phone. “What are you girlies talking about?”
Avery answered, “Oh, just about Yn and Jungkook getting married and having six kids.”
You threw a pillow at her head in response, and Sasha smirked at the mention of her boyfriend’s buddy. “Yeah, I heard what happened. Tae told me Jungkook went crazy after talking to you, saying that this will be the year that he will claim you as his and that there’s not a single person that can take away the happiness that he’s experiencing at the moment. He literally can’t stop talking about you.”
You suppressed your smile successfully and shrugged your shoulders again. “I don’t see why it’s a big deal. I mean, you all left me lonely at that party, and he was the first familiar face I saw, sooo… I had nothing better to do.”
“God, you’re such an odd person. The guy wants you so bad, just give him a chance. You think it’s not noticeable that you are also kinda into him, but if you weren’t, you would’ve blocked that guy a long time ago, and you would’ve gone crazy on his ass with all the things he does to get your attention, but you don’t,” Tanya argued with a sly smirk on her face. “You may be mysterious to other people, but you can’t fool your best friends, who have been living with you for two years.”
Avery and Nora both agreed with Tanya’s words by nodding their heads crazily, and Sasha said a loud ‘true’ from the kitchen across the living room, where she was preparing five hot chocolates for you.
“I do go crazy; I always go crazy; I always tell him off. You all have personally experienced me going off on him for things he did and said,” you defended yourself the best you could, before taking the hot chocolate out of Sasha’s hands with a small ‘thank you, S.’
“Yeah, but it’s not really a ‘fuck off, I don’t ever wanna see you or hear you again’ type of ‘going off’; it’s more like a ‘ugh, Jungkook, I can’t believe you did this again. Please do it again’ type of thing,” Avery mocked with a high-pitched voice and fluttering eyelashes.
“Oh my God, I do not do that.”
“You kinda do, now that I think about it,” Sasha finally sat down. “I mean, I have seen you pick fights with men flirting with you before, and you are a completely different person with them versus with Jungkook.”
The others thought about what Sasha said, and it was almost like a collective epiphany. They all looked at you with the same look on their faces; almost an accusatory expression.
“You totally like him; oh my God! Yn likes Jungkook. It makes so much sense; I can’t believe I was so stupid,” Nora expressed with exciting energy.
You felt a rush of relief coming over you, almost as if you were carrying a secret that you wanted out. You had no idea if that feeling was a good sign or a bad one.
“Okay, let’s not get ahead of ourselves here, girls. I do not ‘totally like him’; I may be just starting—emphasis on just starting—to warm up to the idea of giving him a chance,” you revealed. “But Sasha, promise not to tell Taehyung about this, ‘cause if you do, Jungkook is gonna know by default, and I’m never gonna hear the end of it.”
“I won’t; I promise. This is just soooo exciting,” she spoke. “It’s just gonna be really hard to keep to myself, but I will try.”
“No, you won’t just try; you have to actually not say anything. You forget how indecisive I am; I could change my mind about this in an hour, so if you tell Taehyung, he will tell Jungkook, then Jungkook builds up hope and confronts me about what he heard, and I’ll just be like, ‘Oh, that was nothing; he’s just messing with you,’ and can you imagine how hurt his feelings would be? I really don’t need that on my conscience,” you explained thoroughly, your dramatics intact as they always were.
“Oh my God,” they all said in unison.
“What?”
“You care about his feelings!” Avery exclaimed, standing up dramatically. “You like him, like, like him. Admit it, admit it, please, please, please.”
“Shut up. I’m going to bed now. Buh-bye.” With that, you exited the living room, leaving your friends to talk about your situation for another hour before also going to bed.
“Remember when he got her a Cartier bracelet?”
___
“I will form six groups consisting of four students; each group discussing the topic I will be assigning them,” Professor Sullivan revealed.
“Ms. Ln, you will be grouped with Ms. Jones, Mr. Jeon, and Mr. Davis,” he spoke loudly. “You will be discussing Rousseau’s ‘The Confessions’ and prepare a presentation on identity and selfhood that is due next week, on Monday.”
You dreaded being in a group with Ben Davis, who had been nothing but a pain in your butt since you got to know him, but at least the assignment was the one that you wanted.
Jungkook, who sat next to you, smirked and nodded his head. “They couldn’t tear us apart if they tried, angel; this is meant to be.”
“Who are you even talking about? Who’s they?” Confused by his words, you asked.
“Just the world. You know how much these people hate real love,” he flashed you his trademark smile, making you push his arm playfully.
"Could you two stop flirting so we can start with the assignment?" the annoying voice of Ben whined, sitting across from you, with Lily Jones joining in the seat next to his.
“Alright, let’s dive in,” you started talking. “I personally think the most transfixing part of ‘The Confessions’ is how Rousseau emphasizes his intentions to be authentic. He exposes himself without shame or any sense of privacy, which for the time challenged societal norms completely.”
Lily nodded in agreement; Jungkook was busy staring at your lips as you articulated your opinion, smiling with his arm still around your shoulder. Ben, on the other hand, pulled a face you could only describe as disgusted. “Authenticity? The only authentic thing about Rousseau is that he is able to whine about his feelings like a pubescent girl. It feels almost like narcissism to me.”
"What a stupid take, Ben. With Rousseau writing this book, he laid the foundation for modern notions of individuality; the book challenges the reader to think about their own identity, their individuality," you explained your point further.
“I don’t need a stupid book like this to tell me about my identity or my individuality. It’s literally just a dude whining and rambling about his feelings and whatnot. No one wants to hear it,” Ben snapped.
Jungkook looked between you and Ben while you were arguing; seeing your agitated face when you hated someone made him realize you didn’t hate him at all. You even leaned closer into his arms.
“Well, I think we can use this as a talking point in our presentation,” Lily stated her idea. “How our perception of the book is similar to how we perceive ourselves; there are people like Yn, who confront and explore their feelings, thus creating a healthy relationship with the self, and there are people like Ben, who repress and ignore them, which makes for an angry person; which, by the way, is also an emotion.”
You and Lily giggled at her words, sending each other glances as to say, "God, I fucking hate that guy."
Jungkook decided to chime in. “That’s a good idea. We can use it as an opportunity to dive deeper into the self, to question it. If you are so opposed to Rousseau’s vulnerability, that’s a big indication of your own issues with vulnerability.”
You observed him as he spoke, astonished at his participation. You leaned in even more, to the point where your bodies touched as a way to show him you liked what he said.
“Oh, shut the hell up, man,” Ben shot back. “We all know you’re just here ‘cause of her; you don’t actually give a crap about all this.”
Jungkook simply smirked at him, already having figured out how easily provoked Ben was.
“He obviously cares more than you, ‘cause with that attitude, we are never gonna get a presentation done, much less start,” you defended Jungkook sassily, with a displeased expression sent Ben’s way, who just mumbled, “Yeah, go on, defend your boyfriend.”
“True,” Lily sighed. “By the way, where are we gonna prepare our presentation? The common rooms are always too loud, and all lecture halls are always occupied, and I don’t know about you guys, but my dorm isn’t exactly a mansion.”
You thought about Lily’s concern for a second, and the same resonated with you; your on-campus apartment wasn’t small, but you shared it with four very loud girls.
“We can do it at my place; I don’t mind,” Jungkook offered with a squeeze on your shoulder. “Then I finally have an excuse to invite my baby over.”
You looked up at him, meeting his mischievous eyes. For a moment, you shared intimate eye contact before Ben coughed to get your attention. “At your penthouse? Pff, no thanks. I’m sure a professor will let us use a room here.”
“You are not serious, Ben. Jungkook just offers us to go to his huge penthouse and you decline? I must say, I have never known such a dedicated hater; it’s almost admirable,” Lily admitted her admiration for Ben’s consistency.
“Why the fuck would we go there? It’s off campus, and it’s a penthouse; it’s so… distracting and unnecessary,” Ben debated, irritation written all over him.
“It’s a 15-minute walk and a five-minute drive, man; it’s not in Mexico,” Jungkook concurred, unable to find reason in Ben’s opposition.
“And what’s wrong with it being a penthouse? I personally would love to just hang out at a penthouse. It would make uni work a lot easier, actually,” Lily stated.
“I agree,” you shared, making Jungkook grin like an idiot at the image of you in his house. “And since this is a democracy, and we have one vote against three, we will meet at Jungkook’s penthouse next Sunday; of course, if that works for you, Jungkook."
“Works perfect!” he excitedly responded.
Ben was looking pissed as always; Lily was already thinking about all the pictures she was going to ask you to take of her in the penthouse for her Instagram, and Jungkook and you seemed to be in your own little world, gazing at each other.
“Thank you, Jungkook; that’s really nice of you,” you expressed with a smile, lifting your face to his to plant a short kiss on his cheek.
His heart raced at the unexpected movement; you had never done that before. He froze, his gaze lingering on you for a long moment while you gathered your belongings at the signal of class dismissal. One by one, the students gradually walked out, and you followed suit with Jungkook trailing behind you. He advanced in your direction, watching your hips sway.
“Yn!” he called after you, resulting in you turning around.
“Yes?”
“Go out with me tomorrow night at 7:00, just you and me,” he called out flirtatiously, gaining the attention of everybody around him, but only having his eyes on you.
You grinned mischievously at him before replying, “I don’t know about that… you’ll have to impress me first.”
To anyone else, it might sound like a rejection, but to Jungkook, it sparked a glimmer of hope that made his heart leap with resolve. Until now, it had only been ‘no’s and ‘no thank you’s. He was more confident than ever that he would capture the heart that had captured his.
___
“Yn, what did you do to Jungkook?” Sasha came back from a date night with Taehyung. “Tae told me he can’t stop smiling and is just sitting there, being cheesy as fuck.”
You were writing a sonnet for your poetry class as she barged into your room, looking stunning. “What made him think it’s about me? Let the man smile and be cheesy in peace.”
After Sasha looked at you with a look that said ‘you know damn well,’ you confessed, “He asked me out, and I—”
“You finally said yes??” she quickly interrupted with a dropped jaw.
“Nooo, I said maybe if he impresses me,” you continued. “Oh, and I also kissed him on the cheek.”
“You. Did. Not!” Sasha put a hand over her mouth, a loud gasp leaving it. “No wonder he is a smiling idiot; you broke him!”
“No, I didn’t ‘break’ him; I’m simply doing what I already said I am doing; I’m warming him up, giving him hope,” you explained, putting your pen down. “Because there is a very high chance that I will agree to go out with him soon. I just need that something.”
“That something?” Sasha repeated, confused.
“Yeah, that something; that one moment that makes me go yes, this is the man I want,” you further explained. “I have a good reason, two actually; I’m picky, indecisive, and also a virgin, so if I let him in and then, for some reason, regret it, I will be destroyed. And if I suddenly change my mind after giving him a chance, it will hurt Jungkook really badly, and I don’t want that.”
Sasha looked perplexed and deep in thought at your words, as if puzzling them together and making sense of them. “Oh wow, I never thought of it like that, but now, I totally get you.”
“Well, finally!” you smiled at her and giggled. “Anyway, what are you and Tae wearing to the Halloween party? Cause I was thinking…”
___
You and your girls took Halloween very seriously. You loved the dressing up, the makeup, and you always utilized the only day in the year where it was socially acceptable to be someone else entirely.
Of course, there were always at least six simultaneous Halloween parties going on on campus, and you had to choose between them, which was never a hard decision to make since Kappa Sigma always won. If they’re throwing a party, no other party stood a chance.
You decided to dress up as something cute yet sexy but very recognizable. Last year you came as Jane Eyre, and not a single person guessed your costume right. You decided to go with Chel from ‘The Road to El Dorado’; a white maxi skirt with two slits on the sides, a pink tube top, and statement jewelry with your hair down. It was low effort, yet very effective.
Nora went with Cher from Clueless, Avery of course was Shego, Tanya went creative and dressed as 2010 Justin Bieber, and Sasha and Taehyung were Morticia and Gomez Addams for the night, catching many envious stares.
After all the assignments, the essays, and the overall stress of uni the past few weeks, you hadn’t felt that alive and sexy in a while. Your maxi skirt was clinging to your full lower body seductively, and your tube top took on the very shape of your chest. You looked damn good, and you were ready to feel good too. Promising you wouldn’t drink too much, you took it slow.
Moving your hips seductively to the beat of a The Weeknd song while closing your eyes and tilting your head back, with Avery and Nora dancing together in front of you. Tanya was nowhere to be found, and Taehyung and Sasha were having their own dance party, grinding and kissing like there was no tomorrow. The dancing continued, and with it, the staring. You wished you could just dance at a party and have everybody mind their own business.
After a couple more rounds of dancing and drinking, you felt a firm hand gripping your hips. Turning around immediately, you pushed the guy away and looked at him, terrified. “What the fuck?? Get your filthy hands off of me!!”
Your friends stopped their dancing for a moment to see what was going on. They found Ben, dressed as Patrick Bateman, groping your hips like you were his property. “Just having fun, bird; don’t get all upset.”
Avery and Nora yelled at him, but it wasn’t effective. The scene caused such a huge stir that even Sasha and Taehyung got out of their trance, watching your fight with Ben.
“Yo, dude, get the fuck outta here, or I’ll call the cops on you,” Taehyung stepped in, pushing Ben completely out of the way. “What the fuck made you think you could do this, huh?”
As if he knew just when to step in, Jungkook in a cop uniform just arrived at the scene, asking what was happening.
A very drunk Ben slurred his words in an almost incoherent tone, facing Taehyung. “Look, man, she’s dressed like a slut. So I’m gonna treat her like a slut.”
Jungkook’s eyes widened at Ben’s words, trying to make sense of the situation. He followed Ben’s eyes that were directly watching you, all of your friends and Taehyung just standing shocked, and the only thing between you and Ben was a protective Taehyung. Ben was talking about you.
Without putting any thought into his actions, Jungkook stepped in and punched the guy in his face, causing him to stumble down to the ground, where Jungkook kicked him in the face before crouching down and spitting on him. “What the fuck did you just say??! Did you touch her, huh? Did you fucking touch her? I swear, I’ll kill you; I’ll fucking kill you, man; this is your last day alive, ‘cause I’ll kill you.”
You had no idea what to do in this situation, so you just watched with a shrinking posture, similar to your friends who were all in shock at the scene of Ben lying on the ground, his blood pouring out while Jungkook continued to throw punches. At that point, the entire party stopped and just observed the scene.
"Jungkook, that’s enough. I’d love for you to kill him, but I don’t wanna see you in jail, bro," Taehyung calmly spoke, in order to ease the tension. Jungkook listened to him, standing up; a look that furious had never been on his face.
He turned to you, taking your hands in his, his face softening at the sight of you. “Everything okay, baby?”
You nodded weakly, semi-visible tears rolling down your cheeks. Your instincts told you to hug him, so you did. He immediately pulled you closer to him, his hand on your back and your chest against his as he soothingly rocked you back and forth. Everybody was watching you, but you didn’t find it in yourself to care.
“Come on, I’ll take you upstairs to relax,” he took your hand, guiding you through the crowd and into one of the bedrooms. “Want me to carry you?”
For the first time in those 30 minutes, you cracked a tiny smile, knowing that he was so very serious about carrying you in front of an entire party. “No, that’s fine; I can walk.”
Ignoring the intense eyes of the crowd, you two made your way upstairs.
Your eyes were still slightly watery with tears, and you were still holding onto Jungkook’s hand as you both sat down on the bed. “Thank you, Jungkook.”
He offered you an irresistible smile and brought you in tighter against his solid chest, allowing you to hear his every heartbeat clearly. “That’s my job, baby; no need to thank me.”
“You really didn’t have to do that; I don’t want you to put yourself in danger for me, Kookie,” you spoke against his chest, with a soft, alluring voice, using his nickname to make him happy. “Ben really isn’t worth your anger at all.”
Jungkook took in your entire figure from above you with a gleam in his eyes. “Yn, I will do anything to protect you. I won’t ever allow anyone to harm you.”
You gently pulled away from his chest to meet his loving gaze. You never understood the books where the main character described a romantic encounter by saying ‘it felt like we were the only two people in the world’ until that moment. He leaned in closer, maintaining eye contact. You placed a delicate hand on his muscular arm—too gentle to stop him from getting closer, yet firm enough to prevent yourself from melting into him.
You were face to face with him now—breathing the same air. “You really mean that?”
“I couldn’t be more sincere,” he whispered, the warmth of his words meeting your full lips, his hands firmly placed on your soft, naked waist. “You know, we’ve never been this close before.”
“Yeah,” is all you managed to say, avoiding eye contact.
Suddenly, Jungkook pulled away, standing up, offering you his hand. “As much as I want to kiss you, I don’t think we should do that right now. You obviously drank tonight, and I want you to want to kiss me, and I want you to remember kissing me.”
You nodded and took his hand, not knowing what to say or do. As you stepped outside again, Jungkook’s broad shoulders became your view, him leading you downstairs again to take you home.
“Jungkook?” you said his name quietly, almost in a whisper.
He turned around, watching your shorter and smaller frame from above, looking absolutely tempting. “Yeah?”
“I’ll go out with you.”
___
The week after the Halloween party was exhausting; there were exams, essays, and seminars.
Besides the exams and usual uni duties, Jungkook was very enthusiastic about your first date. Being secretive about what he’d planned, getting your friends to ask you what you expected from a first date in an unsuspecting way, not wanting to annoy you so that you wouldn’t change your mind. It was very endearing.
You were also looking forward to the date, but you were much more subtle about it. Jungkook didn’t care about secrecy as much, telling every single person he knew that you agreed to go on a date with him; the news spread fast, and every student knew about your date.
Taehyung reported to Sasha that he jumped up and down, screaming and shouting out of the windows, “I DID IT! I FINALLY DID IT!” And later, when the pizza they ordered arrived, he tipped the delivery guy 300 bucks and told him, "The love of my life finally agreed to go out with me; I wish for you the same. I wish for every longing soul to experience the same happiness I am in right now, but I don’t think that’s possible because only she is capable of making a human feel this way. Goodbye and good luck, brother."
As for your shared class, he was insatiable. It was about the only time that week where you were able to see each other, and he had made good use of those three hours. In just three lectures, he got you a Swiss chocolate cake with a picture of himself printed on it because Avery informed him chocolate cake was your favorite. He got you a beige rose Lady Dior purse because it "goes well with your complexion," and a pink diamond ring, which he said was "nothing compared to the future engagement ring, of course." Before he signed up for your class, he gave you a gift once every two weeks, so this was a lot even for Jungkook. You told him it was all unnecessary, and he said, "No, this is very necessary; gotta spoil my future wife."
You were drowning in your assignments, your MacBook completely overheating when your name was called.
"Yn! There’s a package for you on the table," Tanya, one of your roommates informed.
You got out of your room confused; you couldn’t remember ordering anything in the last few weeks, and Jungkook usually liked to give you his gifts in person. “Are you sure it’s for me?”
Tanya playfully scoffed at you, reading what’s on the package again. “Is there another Yn here that I have yet to be introduced to?”
You scoffed back, taking the package into your room. Your impatient self couldn’t resist tearing it open to see what’s inside. A note, a small box, and a big white box with the words ‘Givenchy’ on it. Your breath hitched.
The note read: ‘Wear this to our date, gorgeous. Yours forever, JK.’
Almost scared to do so, you opened the white box, revealing a gorgeous, long blue silk dress. Then you opened the smaller box, which held a beautiful 24k gold necklace and matching earrings inside it. That idiot. You smiled to yourself, but quickly realized you shouldn’t.
You were a princess, and you deserved to be treated like one; he was just a rich enough man to comply.
You freed yourself from the clothes you were wearing. Carefully, you took the dress out of the box and put it on.
It fit like a glove, harmonizing with your every curve. The neckline was low, exposing the perfect amount of cleavage.
How did he know my size?
You put the dress back into the box neatly and pulled out your phone.
7:26
Yn: How do you know my size?
7:29
JK: I’m glad you got my little gift. Do you like it?
7:31
Yn: Yes, it is very nice; thank you. It was not necessary at all.
7:32
JK: I’m glad, baby; can’t stop thinking about tomorrow.
7:34
Yn: I’m really excited too.
7:36
JK: Promise you won’t be disappointed.
___
Whistles and girly screams were heard all over your apartment when you stepped out of your room, wearing the blue silk dress that clung to your wide hips and showcased your full chest perfectly; in soft glam makeup and your hair in an elegant updo, dazzled with the matching set of necklace and earrings, a pretty black purse in your hand. You looked the very image of beauty.
“Damn, girl!” Nora let out, impressed by your beauty.
“Does it look good?” you asked. You knew you looked beautiful, but you needed the extra assurance.
“Are you kidding me? You look ravishing, absolutely radiant; your body is just wow,” Avery complimented, observing you from head to toe. “Is that a new dress? It’s soo fucking gorgeous.”
“Yeah, it is; Jungkook actually sent it to me to wear today.” You felt your cheeks heating up at the knowing glances of your friends.
“Mmhmh, he’s a good man, Yn; a good man,” Sasha quoted a TikTok sound. “He’s so gonna freak when he sees you!”
“Is that what was in the package a few days ago? The guy’s got taste; gotta hand it to him,” Tanya chimed in. “When is he picking you up?”
You looked at the clock and answered, “Just in 3 minutes.”
About two seconds after you said that, a knock was heard from your front door.
“Ooooh, somebody’s eager,” Nora wiggled her eyebrows.
You walked to the front door, opening it after letting out an ‘I’ll get that.’
Before you stood Jungkook, wearing black tailored pants and a sophisticated white button-up shirt tucked into his pants, emphasizing his small waist and his muscular frame. In his hand, he held a big bouquet of pink and red roses.
“Hi, Jungkook,” you greeted him with a million-dollar smile.
He observed you with the biggest grin in the world, letting his eyes travel up and down your frame. “You are the most beautiful woman on Earth. Here, these are for you.”
He handed you the bouquet, which you took gracefully. “Thank you! They’re beautiful.”
Your friends freaked out, all attentively watching the interaction.
“Let’s go?” Jungkook said in a questioning tone. You nodded.
“No funny business, mister! We want her home by 11,” Avery screamed while you and Jungkook made your way out. Jungkook laughed, giving her a thumbs up.
“Yeah, you better not try anything with our girl; remember, we see all!” Sasha joined her, while Tanya and Nora made kissing and moaning noises, causing you to facepalm.
“Let’s just go, Jungkook,” you expressed in an embarrassed voice. “I’ll see you girls later!”
Once you were out, you looked at Jungkook apologetically. “I am so sorry; they’re literally so embarrassing sometimes.”
“It’s fine,” Jungkook chuckled, taking your hand in his. “Let them have their fun; they’ve been waiting for this day as long as I have.”
You bit your lip as your eyes met his longing ones.
“Now, let’s go,” he started walking faster towards his car. “I got us reservations at Quince.”
Quince was an Italian restaurant that you only heard of but never entered; it was much too expensive for you to even consider. It was not like you were poor; it was just that Jungkook was wealthy.
You both made your way to the car together; he opened the door for you and then entered himself.
“This is a really nice car,” you stated, taking in the car with a wide-eyed look.
“Yeah?” He started the engine. “It’s a Mercedes-Benz Maybach Exelero.”
You simply nodded, still looking around amazed.
“You know, I’m beyond happy you finally agreed to go out with me,” Jungkook admitted, one hand on the wheel and the other hand finding your thick thighs. “I lost hope there for a while, you know?”
“Well, what can I say? I’m an incalculable girl,” you teased, putting a hand over his, linking your fingers. “You will never figure me out, Jungkook.”
Jungkook’s dimple was visible as you gazed at him while he looked ahead.
“Remember when you told me you’re never going out with me? Well, now you are,” his voice reminisced. “So, I think I will figure you out, Yn.”
You decided to push his buttons a little. “Are you telling me you would wait over two years to figure me out? I didn’t peg you for a patient one.”
“I would wait a lifetime just to get a little piece of your heart and be able to call it mine, Yn,” he professed, his hands tightened, and his eyes gazed at you with yearning.
You didn’t know what to say.
_
The dinner at Quince was a dream come true; Jungkook rented out the entire restaurant for you, the view was breathtaking, every dish was a work of art, and the service treated you like royalty.
“So, do you like it here?” Jungkook asked you as you shared a slice of the best chocolate cake you had ever tasted.
“I love it!” you enthusiastically replied. “It is so beautiful here, Jungkook; honestly, thank you so much.”
The harpist was in the back, playing soft melodies that warmed your heart. You could not believe Jungkook planned all of this for you, and a sense of regret washed over you as you realized this was the man that you had been denying for two years.
“No need to thank me, baby; the important thing is that you’re with me,” he took a piece of cake with his fork and held it in front of your mouth, which you then ate, blushing. “I got something for you.”
Jungkook made a hand gesture, and as if on cue, a staff member came in, holding a framed picture in their hand, handing it to Jungkook.
He held it up for you to see; it was a star map, a very beautiful one. “This is the star map of the day we met—3rd of October, 2 years ago.”
Your eyes widened. “You remember the day we met?”
“Of course I do.”
“Jungkook, it’s so beautiful. I’ll hang it up on my wall,” you admired it while he admired you. “You’re really spoiling me.”
“Of course, baby, that’s my job,” he answered, taking your hand in his. “Now, let’s go; I have something planned for us.”
_
“Where are you taking me now?” you inquired; his secrecy wasn’t scaring you, but you were a naturally curious person.
“It’s a secret, baby. I promise you’ll love it,” Jungkook kept his eyes on the road, responsibly, and his veins ripped along his forearms, your eyes glued to the thickness of his arms.
“Ugh, fine, if you wanna be secretive about this, be secretive about it,” you feigned dramatic annoyance. “Just know that I’m hating every minute of it.”
“I think I can live with that since we’re just three minutes away,” he teased, his dimples evident.
“Three whole minutes of me hating it… you are a very cruel man, Jeon,” you shook your head, enjoying the breeze of the Californian air.
When you arrived in the parking lot of a bar, he pulled up saying, “We’re here!” before stepping out and jogging to your side, opening the door for you. You took his hand, letting him lead the way into the bar.
“A bar?” you asked in a suspicious voice. “Jungkook, a bar is not the place you take a lady…”
He knew you were joking and chuckled lightly.
“Just wait till we get in; you’ll love it,” his excitement was apparent, which confused you even more.
You stepped inside the bar, which was actually prettier than you imagined it would be; it had a calming feel about it. It didn’t look like a traditional bar; there was a stage set up and seats for an audience where about 30 people were already sat.
“Sit here,” Jungkook took your hand and brought you to a seat right in the front.
He made his way onto the stage, which led to you asking him, “What are you doing?” but he didn’t answer your question and just stood in front of the mic.
“So, uh, I wrote a poem a few weeks ago about the girl I love—a girl I have been trying to get with for two straight years and failed every time. I know how much she loves poetry,” Jungkook spoke to the crowd, his eyes gleaming with happiness. “And exactly a week and two days ago, she agreed to go out with me. Actually, this is part of our date; she’s sitting right there.”
He pointed at you proudly; the crowd cheered at the cute story he told and then observed you and cheered some more before letting him continue.
Jungkook looked self-assured, but there were little hints that showed you he was nervous to be standing in front of a crowd the way he was. “Yn, I know your writing is way superior to mine, but I hope you like this regardless. I’m gonna read it now.”
The crowd slightly giggled at his comment, but you could only focus on catching your breath and stopping your tears because you had never expected Jungkook to be as amazing as he was.
“In grand halls where soft echoes linger,
I spread petals, gold on gray floors.
Yet no amount of riches can sway you
To feel what’s in my heart, what I adore.
Two years have passed like silk through fingers,
Each moment woven with hopes and dreams.
But in your eyes, there’s a distant wonder;
You craft your path, and it’s not what it seems.
I’ve painted skies with vibrant colors,
Called stars to shine above you, glowing bright.
But love, I find, goes beyond gold and shine—
Sometimes a simple heart knows what feels right.
Yet here I stand in this space, laid bare,
With wealth at hand, but your laughter’s far away.
I’d give it all, just to share a moment—
To glimpse the dreams you cherish and replay.
Though riches fade like whispers in the dark,
My love, unyielding, still holds the spark.”
The crowd erupted into applause, gasps, and "awe's" and "Girl, marry him's" as Jungkook finished. You sat there, frozen in time and frozen in the words he dedicated to you; your heart beating faster than it should be, and singular tears rolling down your face.
Jungkook left the stage, eagerly approached you with the softest smile. “Did you like it?”
You couldn’t utter a word; you only stood in front of him, shook your head slightly in disbelief, and threw your arms around his neck tightly, jumping into his arms, hiding your face in his chest. You cried.
“Hey, why are you crying? Was the poem that bad?” he half-joked, running his hands over your hair soothingly.
As you finally parted from him, you glanced at his face, adoringly and implored, “Kiss me.”
And so he did. He kissed you hard like a soldier reunited with his loved one after many years; his hands were firmly on your waist, exploring other places of your body—in that moment, you were alone. In that moment, it was only Jungkook and you as you lost yourself in each other.
You stayed like that for a few minutes, lost in each other before staying at the bar for a while, listening to talented poets reciting their work.
___
“I can drive you back to the dorms, or you can—” Jungkook started.
“No, I think I wanna go back to your place,” you quickly interrupted. “Of course, if that’s okay with you.”
After leaving the bar, you entered his car, lips still swollen from all the kissing.
“Of course it’s okay with me; you said exactly what I hoped you’d say,” he smiled. “You know, the girls will probably beat me up tomorrow for not bringing you back.”
The drive to his penthouse wasn’t long at all; it was just enough to talk for a while and enjoy the evening view.
“Oh, absolutely not; they are totally secretly celebrating this because all they’ve been wanting me to do these past two years is give you a chance,” you admitted, also smiling. “Now that that happened, I can just tell you the complete truth; there is nobody more into this than them.”
“Damn, so even with a whole secret support system behind me, it took me two years?” He tsked, finding amusement in the admission. “That’s embarrassing for me.”
You looked up at him through your lashes and tilted your head; he was focusing on the road, but glanced at you as much as he could. “If you were anybody else, it would’ve taken you five more.”
He leaned in to steal a quick kiss; the prideful expression on his face was clear to see. “That’s really good to know.”
You drove around for the next 10 minutes; finally, you arrived at his luxurious penthouse, which was adorned with a huge terrace and a chic entrance that you rushed to hand in hand.
You had already been to his penthouse for the project, yet its beauty didn’t fail to impress you once again; being in this position made it look even more magical.
As soon as you stepped inside, Jungkook grabbed your waist and gently held you, with his lips finding yours again. You stumbled into the spacious yet warm living room. As your lips still moved in sync and passionately, your hands roamed his body, exploring every muscle, every inch. Your gasps intertwined with his heavy breathing, your chest against his. He guided you to the couch and sat down, without breaking the kiss, and with firm, strong hands on your hips, he seated you on his lap.
Your heated core met his clothed, hard dick in sensual movements, the grinding gradually getting quicker and more effective. You felt his hardness press against your covered pussy, leading to feelings unknown to you. Your dress crept up higher with every movement of your generous hips, his hands now on your ass, kneading it while moaning into your mouth.
“Fuck, Yn, you don’t know how fucking long I’ve been waiting for this,” he breathed, breaking the kiss for just a second before going back immediately, earning an agreeing moan from you.
His hands wandered over your entire body, holding your slightly pudgy stomach and traveling up to your full breasts. You couldn’t contain your moans from coming out, your lips moving against his as if they were made for them.
But there was something on your mind that you still had not mentioned to Jungkook.
“Wait, Jungkook—” you interrupted your session with a breathless voice. “I—I have to tell you something.”
He was confused, his face slightly flushed with hazy eyes and parted lips. “Yeah, anything, baby.”
“I’m—I’m a... virgin,” you almost whispered, still sat on his lap, lowering your head so you wouldn’t have to face him. “But I wanna do this.”
His grip on your hips loosened for a second before he firmly grabbed you again. “Oh.”
Your heart sank a little, not knowing what to make of his response.
Just a few seconds later, he continued, “We can take everything slow, baby; we don’t need to rush into anything; we’ll do everything at your pace.”
You nodded, raising your head again to look into his eyes. “Thank you, Kookie.”
“Of course,” he kissed you gently.
“Okay, we can go back to making out now; I just have a tiny problem,” you noted, easing the tension caused by your revelation. “I don’t have anything to wear, and I can’t stay in this dress the whole night.”
Jungkook chuckled and slowly stood up. “Wait here; I’ll get you a t-shirt.”
The few minutes it took him to get you a shirt gave you a chance to take in your luxurious surroundings; the lavish, over-the-top kitchen facing the living room brought a smile to your face, knowing that Jungkook in no way cooked or had any culinary skills whatsoever.
“Here, wear this,” Jungkook came back with a black shirt in his hands. “Next time, we’ll be prepared. Gotta make sure you have your own closet here.”
Your heart beamed at his display of commitment, knowing he was serious about everything he said.
You took the shirt, turning your back to him. “Can you help me zip the dress down? I can’t reach it.”
He obliged happily, zipping the dress’ zip down, his hands lightly brushing over your uncovered back, his lips pressing a small kiss on your shoulder. You turned around, letting the dress fall down, exposing you in just a lacy black lingerie set that left little to the imagination.
His gaze traveled over your entire figure, lips grazing his teeth with a spark in his eyes that conveyed a thousand unspoken thoughts.
“Damn,” he uttered after you put on the shirt, which barely reached your thighs. “Can’t believe you’re even more beautiful than I imagined.”
With newfound confidence, you pushed his chest, resulting in him ending up on the couch once again, and sat down on his lap with an alluring smile.
“I wanna finish what we started now,” you purred against his lips, guiding his hands to your waist. The rhythm of your seductive hips brought his breath to a halt, guttural "fuck's" escaping him.
You quickly stripped away his shirt, revealing his muscular arms and defined abs—all for you to run your hands over and admire, his dick noticeably growing. In response, Jungkook took off your—or his—shirt, leaving you in just a lacy bra, your tits practically spilling out of it; a sight he adored more than anything.
“Shit... please, let me take off the bra,” Jungkook desperately implored, to which you just as desperately nodded. “Just wanna see you like that.”
His fingers toyed with the clasp of your bra before completely unfastening it, exposing your big tits and hard nipples. You were surprised at your lack of shyness, feeling completely free and comfortable, exposed in front of Jungkook like that.
“Fuck,” he growled at the sight of your bare breasts before leaning in, gently taking one into his mouth, sucking it and swirling his tongue around it. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”
You pushed your head back from the overwhelming pleasure, one of your tits getting sucked and the other one getting kneaded, while you desperately chased the friction, your thinly clothed pussy rubbing against his dick. It was an erotic experience; Jungkook was introducing you to a new world.
“Baby, if you keep moving like that, I’m gonna cum in my boxers,” he hissed, his strong arms stopping your movements momentarily.
You were both in a state of haziness; desperation was strongly felt in the air. Your pussy was sticky and slick, aching for more.
“Then fuck me, Jungkook,” you whispered urgently, his breath stopping for a second.
“Are you sure about this, Yn?” he sincerely asked, locking eyes with you to look for a speck of uncertainty; he didn’t find it.
“Yes, I’m so sure,” you answered him steadily. “All I want is for you to fuck me.”
With that, Jungkook didn’t waste any time. He stood up, still grabbing your hips firmly while your legs were wrapped around his waist, and carried you toward the elevator, your bare chest pressing against his and your head lazily resting on his broad shoulders. Finally, he carried you to his bedroom, gently throwing you onto the bed.
He looked at you from above, lips caught between his teeth. He hastily put his hands on you, wanting nothing more than to take off your lace panties, the only thing holding him back from seeing you completely bare. So, he did, slipping your panties down your legs until they’re completely off.
His fingers traced your now bare pussy, lightly teasing it, eliciting a gasp from you. “That’s the prettiest, wettest fucking pussy I’ve ever had.”
You blushed, not knowing what to say.
Slowly, Jungkook’s hands moved to the waistband of his boxers, taking them off entirely. His thick, long dick was freed, settling on his lower belly. The pre-cum shimmered on it, ready to enter you at any moment.
Your breath hitched, taking it all in for a second; your eyes widened at the powerful sight before you. He stood above you, symbolizing dominance, while you were naked, sitting on the bed, looking up at him with innocent eyes.
“Can I just…” you leaned forward, facing his pretty dick, giving it a lick.
“Fuck, Yn, yes please,” he stepped forward a bit to give you easier access. “You ever done this before?”
You shook your head, maintaining eye contact. His eyes darkened, turned on by your innocence. Strong hands found your hair, guiding you closer to him.
You gave him more licks and kisses, swirling your tongue around it and kissing every inch of it before finally taking it into your mouth entirely. He was big, so you struggled a little to breathe properly, but you wanted to keep going for him.
“Shit, baby, you’re doing so good,” he groaned as your hands started working him while your full lips were wrapped around him, sucking him. “Just like that.”
Bobbing your head up and down, you slightly gagged around him, but your hand on his hip signaled him to thrust into your mouth further, which he gladly did. The huge bedroom echoed with his shameless groans and praises.
He smelled clean and tasted salty, sort of musky; it was comfortable having him in your mouth. You continued to explore his dick, recalling all the blowjob wisdom given to you by your friends and the internet, and implementing it.
“Baby, I’m close,” Jungkook’s words were barely a whimper, sending more arousal to your slick pussy.
His words elicited desperation in you, desiring nothing more than to give him pleasure. You bobbed your head harder, his groans getting louder and his thrusts quicker. His hands tightened around your hair; it was obvious he was losing control, chasing his high.
The heat was building, Jungkook’s voice getting louder, and a few seconds later, a warm, salty liquid filled your mouth, which you instinctively swallowed. You released his dick from your grip and looked up at him.
His head was tilted back, eyes closed and breathing heavily before he finally looked down at you, leaning in and giving you a kiss. He put his boxers on again.
“You did so great, baby,” he praised, now sitting next to you on the bed. “I’m glad I’m your first... and last.”
You wrapped your arms around his neck, hiding your face in his shoulder. “I’m glad too.”
You stayed in his embrace for a few minutes; he soothingly whispered sweet nothings into your ear. With determination, you started grinding against him again; this time, your bare pussy against him. A rush of blood was sent to his dick, slowly getting erect again.
“You’re driving me crazy, you know that?” Both of his hands were positioned on your moving hips, furthering the friction between you.
“Yeah, I do, actually,” you admitted in a sultry whisper, licking his upper lip playfully.
“Yeah?” His eyes traveled from your eyes to your lips.
“Hmmm, yeah,” you tilted your head flirtatiously, giving in to another kiss. “So, are you gonna fuck me today or not?”
Jungkook chuckled, clearly amused by your directness. “Baby, I just want to be sure you’re 100% sure about this.”
“I am sure!” you spoke with a tinge of urgency. “Can’t you feel my wetness? I need you, Kookie; I need you to be inside of me.”
The contrast of your words and the usage of his silly nickname made Jungkook’s heart race. He felt the urge to take you right then and there.
With a quick shift, he stood up, grabbed a soft towel and put it on the bed, and gently pushed you so you lay on the bed, ready for him to enter. He towered over you, fingers finding your wet pussy again, playing with it. After removing his boxers again, he fisted himself, the sticky sound of pre-cum finding you; you enjoyed the view more than you would admit. He opened a pack of condoms and took one out, wrapping it around his big dick.
“You sure you’re sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure, I’m sure,” your bratty attitude started to show.
Jungkook came closer, parting your legs slightly, taking in the sight of your pussy, glistening for him. As he approached your entrance, he maintained eye contact. “This is gonna hurt a little at first, baby, but tell me as soon as it’s too much, okay?”
You nodded, your eyes filled with anticipation and nervousness. “Okay.”
He held onto you gently and slowly entered your wetness, eliciting a loud gasp from you. As he entered further, you grabbed onto him tighter, burying your head in his shoulder and clawing his back with your nails. “Fuck, this pussy is so fucking tight.”
“Does it hurt, baby?” he gently asked through heavy breaths, his thrusts continuing to be soft. You nodded. “It’s okay; just a moment and it’ll feel good.”
And he was right; just a couple of seconds into more soft thrusts, the pain transformed into satisfying pleasure that quickly took over, your gasps turning into soft moans.
“Jungkook… fuck me harder,” you begged, pushing him down and closer to you; your bodies sticking together even closer than before. “Please.”
Gradually, his thrusts became harsher, lips moving from your neck to your tits that were begging for his attention and his big hands that gripped your ass. Your desperate grip on his back firmed as you clenched around his dick, causing his breath to hitch. He deepened his thrusts, hitting your walls sensually, introducing you to a pleasure you never knew you could feel.
“Shit, you feel so good around me,” his deep, grunting voice hugged you. “Gonna fuck you stupid; nobody else can touch you like that.”
His ongoing rambling about how good you felt, how beautiful you were, and how long he had waited for this made you feel like you were the most cherished woman on Earth. You couldn’t believe that this was happening. If someone had told you two years ago that you would be in Jungkook’s penthouse, his dick ramming into you deliciously; you would laugh in their face. But here you were.
To add an element of surprise, you suddenly changed the position, turning the both of you around and pushing him down to the bed, taking control as you rode him up and down. A cocky smirk formed on his annoyingly pretty face, looking up at you in admiration.
“You learn quick,” he praised in a grunt, putting his head between your bouncing tits.
You were too lost in pleasure to respond, your ass clapping against his balls and your hands were all over his broad upper body, savoring every inch of him. Your head tilted back in bliss as his dick slipped in and out of your wet, tight pussy; a sight that Jungkook enjoyed very much.
“Baby, I’m close, shit… I’m so fucking close,” he informed with a breathy voice, bitten lips, and hazy eyes, dick thrusting up more desperately than before.
Your walls tightened more around his throbbing dick, indicating to him that you were also close. “Yeah? Me too, baby.”
After a minute of passionate thrusting and bouncing, Jungkook’s body suddenly tensed, reaching the edge. He released a warm flood of cum with a loud “fuck” coming out of his mouth.
With a grind of your hips, a moment later, you also reached a pinnacle, your breath hitching and your eyes closed. You got off of Jungkook and laid next to him on the bed, both of you still trying to come down from the high you experienced.
He slowly stood up, grabbed the bloodstained towel he laid under you to put it in the washing basket, leaning down to plant a kiss on your lips. “You did so good, you know that?”
You simply smiled sheepishly, also getting up to clean yourself and pee. When you came back from Jungkook’s extravagant bathroom, he was lying on the bed now wearing boxers with an eager smile. “Come here.”
You obliged with swaying hips, your naked figure waltzing over to his king-size bed, laying your head on his chest. “Today was amazing, Jungkook. Thank you for everything.”
He held your hand in his, kissing your head gently. “Baby, that was nothing; I wanna thank you for everything. It’s really special to me, what you did.”
“It was easy, being with you and all,” you admitted in a soft voice. “You know, I feel surprisingly very comfortable with you, Jungkook; it’s weird.”
That made him chuckle; his chest left a vibration. “I think I’m gonna take that as a compliment…?”
“You should.”
“I don’t think this needs to be said, but I hope you know this means we’re together now,” Jungkook started, now looking deeply into your eyes from above. “Like an item, a thing, boyfriend and girlfriend, soon to be wed, a coup—”
You stopped him with a giggle, laying a loving hand on his chest. “I get it, Jungkook, and I know.”
“Good.” He tightened his grip on your shoulder, smirking as he looked down at your naked body. “Next time, I wanna cum inside; so you better get started with birth control.”
“Jungkook!!”
—��-
i hope whoever reads this enjoyed it🫶🏽🫶🏽 btw the poem is completely AI generated😭 i really wanna make this sort of a series like write a bunch of different scenarios for this couple; pls tell me your opinion on that.
#jeon jungkook#jeongguk x reader#jungkook x reader#jungkook imagine#bts#taehyung#yoongi#park jimin#namjoon#jung hoseok#seokjin#bangtan#jungkook#bts jeongguk#jeongguk smut#jungkook smut#suga x reader#jk x reader#jjk x reader#bts imagines#bts jungkook#bts x reader
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Toots ik you got a whole lot of requests but hear me out 🧏🏻♀️
Jealous Arlecchino oneshot with smut or suggestive ending🧎🏻♀️
Like her and her hot af wife (reader) going on a lil mission in a different nation and have to continuously speak with a woman who the Fatui has connections with to help them
And reader and said woman are getting along TOO good and while reader is thinking this is some cute girls-bonding-time the woman is literally drooling over her and trying to keep her away from Arlecchino
Arlecchino notices ofc 🤗
The rest is up to you, but please no degradation or like “you were enjoying her attention” type thing in the smut/suggestive part <3
vexations.

Pairings: arlecchino x fem!reader
CW: nsfw, female reader, afab reader, jealousy, fatui member reader (rank not specified), weird lady get tf away, uh moew, the sigma inside me is yearning for deck, lowkey the no degration part gave me an idea, strap on use, praise, small bit of marking, not proofread.
A/N: GIRL OMG lowkey I love that you kinda said no degradation or the attention relishing thing bc honestly I don’t like that kinda stuff either as u can see from like a lot of my work I avoid humiliation and stuffs I like fluffy sex SO YOURE SO REAL FOR THAT BC IT KINDA FEELS WEIRD YK anyway hope u like this yayayay 🕯️
“Arle hurry up! The negotiator won’t wait forever.”
A soft nudge brushed along the blade of your shoulder as you tilted your head over, noticing your wife leaning at your side upon catching up from behind you. Arlecchino breathed out a quiet hum in response, the crisp winds of the howling sky assaulting your skin in a cold fury. Usually, the weather in Fontaine wasn’t overtly cold as it was now, typically balanced between being fairly warm yet decently cool.
Usually, your time with your dear wife was cut short from the barrage of missions piled up one after another, shrouding her schedule immensely. Mission after mission led to Arlecchino trudging out of the house with her infamous fluffed harbinger coat hung loosely over her shoulders, deep eyes looking back to the opening in annoyance upon being unable to spend more time with you. She dreaded it. The prospect of leaving you all alone so early in the morning scrambling along the fluffed sheets for her touch, only to wake to an empty edge in disappointment.
Although you were in fact slotted in a position within the ranks of the Fatui, you never found yourself venturing out on an array of missions like Arlecchino was. Preferring to keep to yourself as you weren’t exactly the brightest when it came to negotiations. Each day, you found yourself lounged on the couch of your shared home, cheek squished against the flat of your palm in anticipation for the door to creak open to reveal your beloved herself. You could only sigh as the clock hand flicked over agonizingly slow, your eyes lowered as your muscles tensed to await her arrival.
However, things were quite different when it came to the Tsaritsa’s request for negotiations in Fontaine’s watchful eye of justice, as it drew caution to Arlecchino having to go alone. It was quite clear on how oddly strict and valued the Nation of Justice’s view on lawful order was, posing a threat to her if she were to even slip up in the slightest manner. Not to mention, the Fatui were in fact highly fixated on and monitored especially in the nation, meaning every waking step she took in the streets would be monitored carefully one way or another. Of course, as the wonderful spouse you were, you had decided to take up to mission alongside Arlecchino, stunning even the Tsaritsa herself at your assertion.
Arlecchino’s eyes traced the fluffed pale clouds heaped along the clear sky, gaze lowering to the heavy stone gate solidly rooted into Fontaine’s earth. The two of you continued to approach the domed gate to one of the nation’s renowned cities, bustling crowds rushing through every corner in a split second once you both step foot through the gate. You found yourself clinging to Arlecchino’s arm at the swarms of people closing in, fingers subtly squeezing the fabric in mild discomfort.
It wasn’t long before she took notice of your visibly cramped form and furrowed brows as you grasped her arm for support, her arm circling your waist closely as a response to the gesture. Pushing past the crowd, you both ended up before a fine establishment resembling a hotel towering above you in an uncountable height of stories above. You pulled out a slip of paper from your jacket pocket swiftly, hand scrambling in the heaps of fluff before letting out a triumphant sigh upon finding it. Carefully, you unfolded the tattered paper, examining the building and the address before shoving it back and nodding to Arlecchino in affirmation.
A hollow gold light spanning across the hotel greeted you upon entering, bouncing off the gold handles before the front desk. Whatever address you had received, the negotiator sure was quite lavish in her tastes. Faint clicks of heels reverberated in your ears, the sound drawing closer with each tap against the floor. An uneasy feeling rocked within you as you could hear them, a sense of deception circling the atmosphere. You only pressed your shoulder to your wife’s to ease yourself, attempting to remain professional upon the negotiator’s arrival.
The woman’s eyes squinted down at you, clearly observing every minute detail that painted your complexion from head to toe, hand rested on her hip in a gust of silence swallowing the air. Blinking in surprise upon her hand stretching out toward you, her expression was strangely amiable, gaze lit up as she seemed ecstatic to meet you. “Ah, hello! It would be a pleasure to negotiate with you!”
You mindlessly shook her hand, puzzled at the sudden shift in demeanor from the woman as she grasped your hand. She breathed out a sigh as she pulled her hand away, huffing in response to compose herself before turning to Arlecchino. Her expression before Arlecchino quickly grew stern, voice dropping to one rather cold and unenthusiastic as they silently shook hands. The interaction alone only made your stomach twist in uncertainty, the sparking contrast in behavior she showed between you two clearly throwing you off.
“I suppose that you are in fact the renowned negotiator with such a high reputation among the Fatui?” Arlecchino inquired, voice low. You could pick up on the fact in no time that she sensed something off about this woman. She only breathed out an unsatisfactory hum in response and nodded, gaze darting back to you in seconds as her face lit up. Within seconds, you couldn’t help but stiffen when her pointer finger traced the bottom of your jawline, experimentally running it along your skin.
Rather amused at your confused look, she only smiled once more, pursing her lips together as she pulled away. Arlecchino’s gaze only grew dark as she observed her movements against you, mind stinging with displeasure at the diplomat’s unusual proximity toward you. She could only shake off that numbing annoyance elusively, looking away from the sight of someone else getting handsy with her darling.
Pulling back, the woman cleared her throat, folding her hands in front of her as she seemed satisfied with your jumbled expression. “Well..shall we begin with the negotiations? How about over coffee?” She mused. You nodded in compliance, glancing over at Arlecchino to note any objections. To which, she hesitantly provided none. Yet, she could only feel her skin bristle at the sight of the woman’s arm snaked over the back of your neck as a way of ‘guiding’ you to the said coffee store. Arlecchino was only left trailing behind, a maelstrom of fury embedded below her usually unfeeling face.
—
“Mm…(Name), sweetie, do you like the coffee I bought for you?”
You breathed out a puff of steam, expression relaxed as you only grinned at her in response. Perhaps she was to be trusted, as the negotiator had been nothing but kind to you, only treating you with the highest degree of affection and respect. Her adoring actions only led you to ease up around her, growing fairly close with her as if you were speaking to someone you already knew for years. Despite the relief that she was friendly, you couldn’t help but being unable to shake off the same uneasiness that jabbed at the back of your brain at her initial arrival. Plus, paired with her dismissive treatment toward Arlecchino only served to throw you off, shrinking away from trusting her altogether.
“Ah. Yeah…you really know your stuff here don’t you?” You chuckled in response, occasionally glancing over at Arlecchino who was left unchecked throughout the entire course of your “negotiations.” Arlecchino noticed your eyes frequently darting over to her, causing her to sit up from her slight slouch and dismissively wave her hand toward you. Nodding, you turned back to the negotiatior, elbows propped up onto the table and palms on either side of her face as she pushed her shoulders forward.
Suddenly, your wife couldn’t hold back her words for the sake of something so silly intruding on your original mission, leaning forward as she spoke up. “About the negotiations-“
The woman only shot the harbinger a sharp glare, cutting her off with a frown. Yet, it was plain obvious that Arlecchino wasn’t the meek type, a stir of hatred boiling within her for this sudden diplomat who came to snatch you out of nowhere. She held her tongue, yet not out of submission, but rather out of restraint—afraid she would be unable to keep her composure and snap at the high authority figure to quit her rather hands on approach toward you.
Throughout the course of the uncomfortably drawn out conversation, consisting of downright lewd hints thrown out from the negotiator toward you only felt like an eternity of malaise tainting the atmosphere. An annoyed scoff from Arlecchino finally caught your attention as she stood up, the silverware and glass rattling against the table from the sheer force of her palms planted onto the table for support to raise her to her feet. She huffed out once more, shoulders hunched over in order to retain her emotions boiling up within her.
Fangs of jealousy sunk into Arlecchino as she walked away from the table without a word leaving her lips, the bitter taste seeping into her mouth only pushing her further into a deep annoyance. She typically didn’t show any sort of emotion that would come close to nearly eliciting this type of anger from her, yet perhaps her sole affection toward you only fueled her otherwise closed off heart. Her guarded heart that only beat for you.
—
“A-Arle- mm..please..”
You lay helpless below her touch, soft gasps sharply rushing past your lungs as her lips glided along yours in a slow, passionate rhythm. Her darkened hands only curled around your wrists to hold you down, continuing her flaming kisses burning against your tongue as your eyebrows raised with that needy expression she loved oh so much. Quiet pants echoed in your ears as Arlecchino pulled away, eyes glossed over as the woman hovering above you looked foggy from your slightly blurred vision.
You couldn’t help but relish in the feeling of her sharp nails dragging along the protruding veins of your wrist in slow circles, crimson lipstick smeared across a new area of your throat every time you looked down. Arlecchino only hummed in satisfaction against your flushed skin, her own body weight along yours locking you down in place as the strap fastened around her waist pressed down onto your lower abdomen.
Muffling through your endless barrage of whimpers, you managed to breathe out through her relentless assault on your body. “I- ah- m’sorry Arle..I- didn’t realize she- mm..was doing that..I promise I didn’t enjoy-!” Your voice resembled that of a choked back sob, immediately hushed by Arlecchino’s soothing voice vibrating from her throat.
“Shh. It’s okay, darling. I would never think so lowly of you, and I know you aren’t that kind of person. The woman I fell in love with is below me, only desiring my actions in this moment, right?” She assured, lips stretching in a gentle smile as her pointer finger dragged down your chest all the way to your stomach.
You only heaved a sigh of joy, which was almost immediately cut off by a high pitched moan upon feeling her middle finger trace your slit. Your panting came out in shallow breaths as her x-marked eyes bore into you, gleaming red like that of a blood moon shone brightly to illuminate your complexion. Her touch was all that you craved in this moment, feeling a wash of affection overtake you at your wife’s calming presence soothing you in even your greatest moment of uncertainty.
Underwear nearly dropped down to your ankles, Arlecchino only seemed entranced by your slick glistening along your folds as such a gorgeous sight to behold. Her eyes darted back up to you once more, gaze meeting yours.
“May I continue?”
To which you only nooded eagerly, eyes flickering to her silicone cock pressed along your stomach. The second you felt the tip intruding along your walls, you immediately gnawed on your lower lip defensively, suppressing your inevitable noises.
Her lips pushed against yours once more, capturing you in a deep, languid kiss as her hips rolled against yours in circular motions, length fully pushing into you with each thrust. Your walls clamped around her faux cock like a vice, moans bouncing off the walls as her cock continued to massage that one spot within you. Everything was absolutely intoxicating. Arlecchino’s scent, her praises, her body pressed to yours, the way she was buried inside you. It was all as if she was so deeply connected to you that she never wanted to let go—as if it went to show how much she loved you with everything she had.
“Just like that. Archons, you’re fucking gorgeous.”
It didn’t take long for the sensation bundling up within you to finally snap, your walls tightening around Arlecchino’s cock to make sure she couldn’t pull back. Your juices coated the strap all over, the messy fashion of it dampening the sheets below you as she let out a satisfactory breath in response. Slowly, Arlecchino waited for you to come down from your high to loosen your grasp around her dick, her palm pressed to your face gently as she thumbed at your cheek in a reassuring manner to take your time,
Before long, you were strewn out on the bed, exhausted as Arlecchino’s arm was draped over you protectively. Her face was nuzzled into the crook of your neck, taking in your warmth as her nerves eased up. As she law curled up beside you, protecting you in her arms as you slumbered, it was as if all her vexations had disappeared from earlier today, her mind was finally put at ease.
That you were hers. And hers only.
—
The next morning, you met up with the negotiator once more, with her face twisted in confusion and mild hint of disappointment at the sight of Arlecchino holding you up to help you walk. Surely your legs weren’t functioning well enough after the previous night. The woman only tapped her chin with an unintelligible grumble, eyes darting away as you let out an awkward chuckle.
“I- ah..ahem..shall we discuss the negotiations..?”
Funny how quickly she had switched up the second she realized that you wouldn’t even think about leaving Arlecchino’s side. You loved her far too much to detach yourself from her arm even. You nodded toward her as you leaned your head onto Arlecchino’s shoulder, eyes dreamy and filled with a sort of solace tinged into your soul as you gazed up at her.
She stared back down at you with the same affection that she would only reserve for the likes of you, hand tightening into your protectively once more.
And you wouldn’t have it any other way.
A/N: WOOOO DID THIS ON A SCHOOL NIGHT IT IS 12:43 AM I THINK IM FUCKED BUT THATS OKAY 🔥🔥🔥
FINISHED MY PHYSICS LAB FEELING GOOD I LOVE EATING THE WALL I AM HORRIFIED TO SLEEP CAUSE I JUST WATCHED SMILE 2 AND HOLY SHIT THEY WERENT WRONG ABOUT NOT WATCHING THE MOVIE IF YOU WERENT IN THE BEST PLACE MENTALLY BUT THATS OKAY BC IT WAS GOOD AND I LOVE NAOMI SCOTT. I’m still fucking scared of the curse and the stupid entity tho
Why am I dumping this what this was a long ass a/n rant probably bc I’m traumatized from the movie lol I don’t wanna step foot in my hallway in the dark.
Anyway please enjoy dinner is served and back to school but break is soon so we’re good

monker
#genshin impact#genshin impact x reader#genshin x reader#wlw#genshin writing#genshin impact smut#arlecchino smut#arlecchino genshin x reader#genshin arlecchino x reader#arlecchino genshin impact#arlecchino genshin#genshin impact arlecchino#genshin arlecchino#arlecchino x reader#arlechinno genshin#arlecchino#arlecchinno x reader#alrecchino#arlechinno x reader#arleccino genshin#arlecchino fluff#arlecchino x reader smut#arlecchino x#arlecchino x female reader#arlecchino x you#arlecchino x y/n
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Get Even - Chapter 1



word count: 1.8 K
cw: frat prez!katsuki x fem art sudent!reader, college AU, frat culture, alcohol consumption, suggestive dialogue, reader panic response, katsuki being petty, foreshadowed angst, strong language/frat boy profanity, Mentions of drink spiking awareness (reader expresses fear of being drugged, no actual drugging occurs), this fic will have multiple chapters!
You didn’t wake up this morning planning to go to a frat party.
You woke up planning to cry over your art history paper and maybe eat a bowl of cereal straight from the box. But fate—or more specifically, your extroverted menace of a best friend—had other plans.
“YOU’RE COMING WITH ME,” she said, barging into your dorm room like the Kool-Aid Man with lashes. “No, I’m not,” you said, barely looking up from your sketchpad. “Yes, you are. Sigma Vex is throwing the party of the semester tonight and I scored us an invite.”“I don’t even know what that means,” you replied. “Is that a frat or a metal band?”
That’s when she hit you with the kicker: “Sigma Vex. As in, the frat. The one run by Katsuki Bakugou.”
You blinked. “The scary blond guy from the engineering major?”
“The hot scary blond guy. Yeah.”
She dangled the invite in front of your face like it was a golden ticket to Wonka’s chocolate factory. Only in this case, the factory was filled with alcohol, sweat, questionable decision-making, and people with abs.
So naturally, you said no. Then she hit you with the guilt trip combo pack: —You never go out. —You’re gonna die single in a cardigan. —You owe her for the time she covered for you when you ghosted class. —And “just come for an hour. You don’t even have to talk to anyone. You can wear black and stand in a corner like a sexy funeral ghost.”
And so now—it’s 8:27PM.
You’re standing in front of your mirror, wearing a bodycon dress that you already regret. Ribbed modal fabric. Soft as sin. Hugs your body like it has a vendetta. Not scandalous—nothing’s spilling out—but you’re not exactly blending in with the wallpaper either.
You pull at the hem. Tug at the neckline. Rethink every decision that led to this moment.
Your stomach is a war zone. You feel like you’re about to be thrown into an arena where hot, drunk gladiators flex for sport and girls get called “shawty” without warning.
Your friend, meanwhile, is in your room with her hair in curlers and a glitter highlighter in one hand. “It’s gonna be fine,” she says. “Sigma Vex isn’t like the creepy frats. They don’t even allow hard drugs. The president’s a total control freak. It’s practically a regulated orgy.”
You nearly drop your eyeliner. “I beg your what?”
She grins. “He has rules. The party ends exactly at 2AM. Pledges clean after. I swear he probably makes them mop in rows. But the house is hot, the guys are hotter, and the drinks are strong.”
You don’t trust this. Or her. But you go.
Because you’re tired of saying no. Tired of playing safe. Tired of wondering what it’s like to be the main character in someone’s story instead of the silent background artist in your own.
So you step into the Uber. Adjust your dress for the tenth time. Take a deep breath.
You’ll just hide in a corner. You’ll sip something fake and sugary. Watch your friend flirt. Go home in an hour. No one’s even going to notice you. At 10:32PM, you walk into the Sigma Vex house, and the party has just begun
The Sigma Vex house doesn’t smell like weed and piss like the other frats.
It smells like cedarwood, expensive cologne, and testosterone. The hallway lights are warm and moody, the alcohol’s not watered down, and the bass is so clean it feels like it’s massaging your organs. Everything is too coordinated. Too put together.
The house hums like a hive. Controlled chaos. All neon lighting, heavy bass, and clean floors that should absolutely not be this clean for a frat house. No drugs, no vomit-stained rugs, no weird stains on the couch (well… not until later). Pledges clean with military precision, and the house parties? Legendary.
This is a party run by a man with a schedule. A mission. A code of conduct.
You’re not supposed to be here. You're very sure of that.
Now, standing here in the corner of the living room clutching a soda in a death grip, you’re watching chaos unfold with terrifying precision. Shirtless guys shouting over pong. Music blasting. People dancing in the dark like they’re in a music video. And not a single illegal substance in sight.
You hug the red Solo cup tighter in your hands—not because you plan to drink it, but because it gives you something to hold. Something to do while you stand awkwardly in the corner of the Sigma Vex living room.
The music is loud. You can feel the bass in your chest like your ribs are its personal drum set. The lights are dim and tinted gold-red, bouncing off bottles and glitter eyeshadow. It smells like sweat, spilt vodka, and expensive cologne that’s fighting for its life.
People are dancing in the middle of the room—no, grinding. Writhing. Some are already pressed so close you wonder if their zippers are about to declare war. There’s a girl literally straddling a guy’s thigh to the beat of a Drake remix. Someone in the kitchen yells “CHUG!” followed by a violent round of coughing and cheering.
You see a game of beer pong in the back. Someone’s making out on the damn couch. Like heavy. His hand’s already under her top and nobody around them cares.
You feel… Like a deer in a frat-lit headlights. Like you accidentally walked into the wrong simulation.
Just you, standing awkwardly in a dress that hugs a little too tightly in all the right places, abandoned by your friend who disappeared somewhere upstairs to swap spit with a tall dude in a backwards cap who looks like he says “bro” unironically, who called her “shortcake” three minutes into meeting her.
You're alone, and you're ready to leave. And then—you feel it.
That static prickle across your skin like the air shifted. Like someone just flipped the tension dial in the atmosphere to oh no.
You glance up—and that’s when you see him.
Blond. Piercing, scarlet eyes. Broad-shouldered. Wearing a black fitted Sigma Vex shirt like it was custom-sewn to worship his muscles. He’s walking through the crowd like a lion who knows the other animals will move.
Katsuki Bakugou.
The legend. Sigma Vexes frat president. The reason half the campus has a gym membership they don’t use.
You’ve seen him before—at a distance, walking out of the engineering building like he owned the sidewalk—but you’ve never been this close. And now he’s looking at you. Like really looking. Your brain short circuits.
He steps up, casual like he wasn’t just stomping through the house like a general five seconds ago. Hands in his pockets. Piercing eyes trailing over your dress like a scan. Not lewd—calculating. Intrigued.
And then, that voice—low, scratchy, voice smooth like gravel and whiskey, way-too-good-for-this-world voice—slips out of his mouth like it’s got intentions:
“Didn’t think I’d see a pretty little thing like you at one of our parties.”
You swear your soda fizzes louder.
“Um,” you say. Your voice is already doing The Thing—that high-pitched, I-don’t-know-how-to-talk-to-hot-people thing. “Thanks?”
He smirks. “First time here?”
You nod, then stop, then try to explain. “Y-yeah. My friend dragged me. I wasn’t… planning to stay.”
His eyes flick toward the dance floor, like he’s clocking the friend you clearly came with. “Lemme guess. Ditched you?”
You blink. “How’d you—”
“You’ve been standin’ here for fifteen minutes,” he says. “Lookin’ like you’re tryin’ to mentally disassociate from the dubstep remix of ‘Seven Nation Army.’”
You let out a panicked laugh, because—he’s right. You are.
And now Katsuki Bakugou is standing way too close. Not crowding, but definitely not respecting standard “hot stranger” protocol. He leans just a bit toward you, glancing at your sad soda. His grin goes sideways. Ferally amused.
“Lemme get you a real drink,” he offers. “Don’t worry—I’ll pour it myself.”
Your heartbeat jumps. Not because it’s romantic. But because alarm bells go off. Every girl-in-college instinct yells: Stranger! Danger! Drink! Frat house! BAD!
You freeze. “Oh—no, thank you. I’m… good. This is fine.”
You gesture awkwardly to your soda like it’s an award-winning vintage instead of whatever off-brand cola someone handed you when you arrived.
He raises a brow. Just one. “You think I’m tryin’ to drug you?”
You panic. “N-NO! Not like that—I just—I mean I don’t know you and—uh—I’m sorry—”
He chuckles. It’s a low, rough sound, like gravel being dragged across velvet.
“You’re cute when you stammer.”
You squeak. Then—his tone dips, smooth and syrupy, casual but too sharp to be an accident. “Wanna go somewhere quieter? You look like you’re gonna combust if the bass drops again. We can go upstairs.”
Your eyes widen. He doesn’t touch you. Just watches. Calm. Patient. Too patient. Like he knows what he’s doing.
You swallow. The walls are closing in. The lights are too hot. His face is too much. “I-I actually… have a thing tomorrow. Early. So. I’m just—gonna go. Sorry.”
And then. You bolt. Turn and walk away.
Like a coward.
Like you just rejected Katsuki Bakugou.
You don’t look back. But Katsuki stands there, still. Jaw tight. Pledges laughing too close to his ear like they’ve just seen their invincible warlord get pantsed by a kitten.
“Yo—did you see that?” “She rejected him?” “Bro, the Prez got ghosted in real time!” “I didn’t know that could happen?!”
A few of them start clapping. The disrespect is palpable.
Katsuki takes a slow sip of his drink. Doesn’t react. Just locks eyes on your retreating form like he’s uploading your soul into a kill list. His silence only makes it worse.
That’s when Yamada—one of the newer pledges, all cocky smirk and zero brain cells—decides to grow a pair.
“Dude,” he calls out, grinning like an idiot, “if you can’t get in her pants and fuck her in the next three months, you’re officially stepping down from your heartthrob throne.”
Silence. Everyone freezes. You could hear a pong ball drop.
“And we get to take your precious baby for a spin,” he adds. “Two weeks. Full keys. No chaperone.”
A hush falls over the room like someone just mentioned Voldemort.
Sero drops his beer. “Bro. You did not just bring up the Porsche.”
Kirishima looks physically pained. “Yo, that’s—dude, that’s kinda too far.”
“Yeah, man,” Kaminari adds, eyes wide. “You tryna die or something? That car's his literal child.”
They’re talking about the car. The black 911 GT3 Porsche. Custom specs. His dad helped him import it from Germany for his 21st birthday. That thing growls like a beast and costs more than all of Sigma Vex’s pledges combined. Katsuki doesn’t even park it near other cars. He parks it under a cover and wipes down the tires like it's a deity.
Kirishima steps forward. “Kats, bro—come on. Don’t—don’t entertain this. She’s just a girl.”
“She’s just a girl,” Katsuki echoes quietly.
He downs the rest of his drink in one go.
Then he turns toward Yamada with the slow, sharp grin of a predator who was just handed a valid reason to destroy someone—emotionally, spiritually, academically.
“You’re on.”
Kirishima groans. “Bro—”
“She wants to play shy?” Katsuki says, voice cold now. “Fine. I’ll play too. But three months?”
He scoffs, already calculating.
“I’ll have her begging in two.”
And just like that, the game begins.
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PART 2 IS OUT NOW: Get Even - Chapter 2
Check the full series here: Get Even - MHA AU SERIES
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I keep thinking about this post, and I want to let you know that the parallel you're suggesting is basically confirmed by the manga:
The post I got these images from has the panels leading up to these two, and they provide even more context (the writers were not messing around with the messianic parallels, lol). There's also this panel of Zero and X getting crucified (if somebody knows the context for that, feel free to say what it is). - It's interesting how Zero is included in the crucifixion, since one could make the argument that Zero could represent redeemed sinners (especially when you consider his backstory and how he acts in comparison after becoming friends with X). - I suppose they could've been saying that Zero was a stand-in for the apostle Peter, who was executed via being crucified, but even then, it's often said that Peter was crucified upside-down. However, the parallel that the manga presents isn't perfect, since X goes on a killing spree in the X4 arc (I'm not joking).
Ya know if there’s any animals that Fit X’s character (and ties into the religious references of the X/Zero series).
Are sheep importantly Rams since in the Bible Sheep are considered to be Holy animals. Symbolically they embody strength, Leadership and sacrifice.
Reminds you of someone-
Plus the part of X’s helmet reminds me of a Ram’s horns


Plus for extra bonus point Copy X would be goat animals that symbolizes sin and evil going hard with him being the false of OG X.
But hey it’s just a headcanon a- *Gets shot*
#cw religious themes#cw religious mention#there was also a post that brought up a manga plotline where Sigma disguised himself as an angelic figure to keep X from fighting#I wanted to link that too#but I couldn't find it#if anybody knows what I'm talking about please let me know#that scene in particular reminds me of the one story in the Book of Matthew/Luke where Satan tried to tempt Jesus in the desert#also the fact that Zero is the one who compares X to Jesus has so many implications#megaman x#x megaman#zero megaman#rockman x manga#megaman x manga#mmx manga#mmx manga spoilers#manga analysis#religious symbolism#Christian symbolism#Opal Speaks#may God bless you all
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🌿•₊✧💻⋆⭒˚☕️。⋆ CATCH A BREAK



ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 { PAIRING; non-idol!taesan x reader, GENRE; fluff, romance, uni!au, one shot, WC; 5.9k, WARNING(S); profanity, alcohol consumption, ASK; maybe you cld write a scenario for bnd's taesan? where he's in university and he meets the reader, A/N; for @dendrobiumorchid, hey! hey... it's been a long time since you sent this request in... i finally caught the writer's wind to write it. i don't know if it fully captures what you wanted, but i hope you enjoy nonetheless because i loved writing it heh. }
taesan sighed. a new semester. the last one was hardly kind to him. he knew mechanical engineering was going to be a difficult major. he thought, at the very least, he’d enjoy the college experience. but, no… meche was leeching away at his very soul. when will he catch a break?
soon, apparently.
first day of class and everyone was buzzing with excitement, fresh off the break sharing vacation stories and whatnot. they were so loud. his break was just him working, spending a few days of the holiday with family, working, contemplating whether or not engineering was for him, and… you guessed it. working.
he trudged into the lecture hall, the strap of his backpack barely hanging onto his shoulder, and sat himself in the back. because it was a required course, the class was full. more people filed in, sitting any spot that they could find.
the professor strode in, silencing the crowd with an authoritative tap on the microphone. a syllabus and a couple of slides later, taesan’s eyes briefly flickered to the creaky doors opening. he watched as you hurried in, windswept hair, silently apologizing to your professor before making your way to a seat.
—
you groaned. you could not have had a worse start to your semester. you barely managed to make it back to campus this morning after your flight was continuously delayed. you planned to come the day before so you could situate yourself a little, but all you had time to do was chuck your suitcases in your room and sprint to class. not to mention, tabling for the semester had started and everyone was trying to get people to join their orgs. usually, you’d stop and listen intently, but today was not that day. the tablers thought otherwise though. not one, not two, but three people stopped on your mad dash to class.
are you interested in joining ballroom dancing? not really! sorry! i’m late to class!
would you like to join women in stem? i would but can’t right now! late!
do you wanna donate to sigma alpha epsilon? NO! can’t you see i’m fucking late?
oops. you felt bad (not really). you’re usually a very polite person. today was just not your day.
you managed to find your lecture hall, only 10 minutes late. you tried to open the doors silently, except they had no plans to stay silent. the squeaky hinges alerted your professor that you arrived. you sheepishly bowed, trying to convey your apology, before trying to find a seat. a seat in this full lecture. wow. this was awkwa— oh! there’s a seat!
your eyes met another’s. instinctually, you averted your gaze, focusing on your feet as you made your way to the empty seat.
since it was in the middle of the row and you didn’t feel like crawling over all those poor people, you climbed all the way to the back of the room. when you got behind the empty seat, you noticed a backpack on it. you looked at the girl on the right and saw her backpack by her feet. so, you safely assumed it was the guy on the left’s. you crouched down and tapped his shoulder. he glanced over, meeting your eyes. oh shoot. it was the guy you made awkward eye contact with.
“i’m so sorry, but do you mind if i sit here?” you whispered. he just nodded and removed his backpack, turning back to his notes.
you dropped your backpack in front of the seat and stiffly climbed over, careful to not kick anyone’s head. once you plopped in your seat, you quickly got your laptop out, taking notes over what your professor was currently speaking about.
—
a wildly awkward entrance. an even more awkward attempt at silently getting into the seat beside him. taesan wanted to laugh. not at you, persay. there he sat thinking that his life sort of sucked, but then you came in. flushed and looking a bit out of place. as sorry as it might be, he found some comfort in your misfortune.
at the end of the lecture, taesan felt the tension leave your body—or rather, saw—when your body melted in the seat and you threw your head back with a groan. while he packed up his pencil case, he caught you scrolling through the lecture pdf, trying to see what you missed. he could offer you his notes. taesan looked down at his notebook… maybe not. he doubted that you’d be able to read it.
before he could make up his mind, you slammed your laptop shut and shoved it in your backpack. you followed the rest of the stragglers out of the lecture hall, leaving taesan to retract his hand and close his mouth with words left unsaid.
now, taesan didn’t give you much thought after that. why would he? he didn’t know you. but, you did start appearing in his head after he noticed that you kept sitting by him for the following lectures. like you were assigned that seat.
you weren’t late anymore. sometimes, you were even earlier than him. this led to the two of you sharing polite nods and pleasant smiles but nothing more. until a month in.
he knew from the syllabus that grading was divided between attendance, exams, and partner projects. was he looking forward to those projects? absolutely not. he hated them. people inevitably got distracted and couldn’t manage their own pace.
by the end of lecture, he was paired with some guy named jaehyun for the first partner project. the guy seemed great. a little too social for his liking, though. in taesan’s mind, overly social people tended to be less committed to completing their part of the project. so, he mentally prepared himself to do the majority of it by himself.
but, taesan also found himself a bit disappointed. he didn’t have anyone that he would have preferred over jaehyun—he didn’t know anyone in that class—but he was curious about you. he’s seen how you take notes. you followed the lecture and put in your own comments between content notes, little things here and there that personalized your learning. he admired it. so much so, taesan started doing it himself. he wondered what your name was…
taesan didn’t have to wonder for too long. in the middle of one of his and jaehyun’s meetups, you came bouncing along.
“hey, myungjae!” you smiled. that was new. the only facial expressions taesan had ever seen on you was confusion, despair, and frustration. this… this was a nice change.
jaehyun waved back with a big grin. “well, if it isn’t the queen herself, miss y/n.”
taesan noted your name, saying it a couple of times in his head. it was a nice name. it suited you.
you rolled your eyes and gave him a smack on the shoulder. “stop calling me that. literally no one else calls me that.”
“i’d beg to differ.” jaehyun wiggled his finger at you. “leehan calls you that all the time.”
“that’s only because i feed his fish when he’s at work,” you replied. you glanced at taesan curiously before recognition bloomed on your face. “hey! you’re the guy that i sit next to in class.”
taesan awkwardly smiled. “ya… i’m taesan.”
“y/n,” you nodded back, returning his smile with the same cordial one you give him in class. (darn. taesan felt disappointment when you didn’t give him the same smile as jaehyun. why was he disappointed?) you turned your focus back to jaehyun. “i didn’t know you knew taesan.”
“we’re partners for the partner project!”
you blinked. “what partner project?”
jaehyun sighed, giving you a flat look. “the one in class?”
one. two. three. four. five—
“holy shit! you’re in that class too?” you exclaimed with wide eyes.
jaehyun clutched his chest, throwing himself to the side. “my queen doesn’t perceive me. she doesn’t even know we share a class together.”
taesan watched as you wrestled jaehyun, who was being dramatic and acting like you were actually hurting him. you were a brighter person outside of class, knowledge that taesan wouldn’t have been privy to if it weren’t for this partner project. taesan found himself smiling at your light laughs and quips about jaehyun’s airheadedness. he glanced at the time. shoot. he had to go to work.
“sorry,” taesan said as he packed up his stuff. “i gotta head out, but we can text about the rest of the stuff.”
you pulled away from jaehyun, letting the poor guy catch his breath. “oh my— i’m so sorry. i didn’t realize that i was bothering you guys for that long.”
taesan waved nonchalantly. “it’s okay. this was more of an impromptu, just to iron out some details. we were practically done when you came.”
you pouted. cute. cute? cute? taesan internally froze. you were cute?
whatever you said after, he didn’t catch. his mind was currently scrambling about how he found someone (you) cute. he subconsciously nodded at whatever you were saying and made his leave, making an excuse that he was about to be really late. as he hurried away, he heard you tell jaehyun. “maybe he doesn’t like boba.”
funny you should say that. he was on his way to his job… which was making boba.
as taesan sealed the drink he was currently making, his thoughts drifted back to you. the girl that sat next to him during class. the girl that he academically admired enough to copy her notetaking style. the girl that very awkwardly made an appearance in his life. the girl he found cute.
after he called out the drink, he turned and groaned, leaning on his coworker, woonhak. “woonhak, i think my years are getting to me.”
woonhak, his junior by two years, patted him on the head. “you are getting old, man. but, don’t worry. i hear that the standard of living for old people is getting higher.”
taesan whipped his head up and punched woonhak’s shoulder. as the younger man whined and rubbed his shoulder, taesan rinsed the dishes in the sink.
“okay, i’ll bite. what makes you say that?” woonhak asked.
taesan shook his hands before wiping away the excess water off with a rag. “there’s this girl—”
“a girl!?” taesan’s glare silenced woonhak’s exaggerated gasp.
“i knew her—well, not really—but i finally met her and… i found her cute…” taesan trailed off, putting away the refrigerated items left on the counter.
“hold on. you found a girl cute,” woonhak tilted his head. “and that’s why i became a victim of violence? dude, it’s normal to find people attractive.”
“i know. it’s just that i’ve been knowing her. she sits next to me in class. it’s just… i didn’t think of her as anything until i knew her name,” taesan murmured.
woonhak stroked his chin. “names are a powerful kind of magic.”
taesan stared at woonhak blankly before sighing. “you’ve been playing d&d too much.”
woonhak’s cheeks puffed out, his defense bubbling in his throat before he noticed the customer at the register. he turned to them and put on his brightest smile. “hi! what can i get you today?”
taesan moved beside woonhak to hear the order when he heard his name from a familiar voice. “taesan?”
he looked up and saw you. you brightened when you saw that you were right. “you work here?”
at that moment, he thanked his barber for accidentally leaving the sides of his hair long because he knew the tips of his ears were beginning to redden. “oh, hey. ya, i do.”
“i guess you do like boba! when you didn’t reply to my offer to buy you boba, i thought you hated it or something.” your grin was very blinding. at least to him, seeing how he was only familiar with the details of your face when you were feeling negative emotions. wait. details of your face? oh shoot. taesan was screwed.
he let out an awkward chuckle. “ya… i didn’t see a point since i work at a boba shop…” you offered to buy him boba? as an apology for interrupting his meeting with jaehyun? fuck, he didn’t hear that.
“oh… well! how about i buy you food instead? i feel really bad about the whole—”
“no! it’s okay. really…”
you blinked at his interjection and then laughed. “well, you can’t stop me from tipping you then. you do get your tips, right? i heard some owners don’t give their employees the tips.”
woonhak gasped. “are you serious?”
you nodded earnestly. “my friend, leehan, doesn’t get the tips because he gets paid a flat rate. it’s stupid, really. so, i just venmo him the tip.”
“that’s diabolical. that should be illegal,” woonhak sighed with a shake of his head.
you hummed in agreement before looking up at the menu. “do you mind if i order?”
“oh, not at all!” woonhak’s hand hovered the screen. while you were still contemplating your order, taesan braved taking a glance at your face. what details was he remembering?
your overall face did seem happier than what he was used to in class. you seemed lighter. the corners of your lips weren’t downturned like usual, quirked the slightest bit upward as you pouted. your tired eyes were brighter, glistening almost, like they held more life. usually, you looked dead, focusing on the lecture and your notes. your hair was more kempt, though he did find himself liking the messy updos you did in class.
“and will that be all?” woonhak’s voice broke his train of thought. taesan blinked. he missed your entire order. he looked at the pos and saw an oolong milk tea with grass jelly. coincidentally, his favorite drink. it’s like fate— no. he is not letting himself get delusional.
he forced himself to make the drink quickly, handing it to you after wiping it down. you smiled at him. “see you in class!”
taesan’s gaze lingered on you as you walked away until you were out of view. he turned to woonhak who was already looking at him with a smirk.
“oh. you’ve got it bad,” woonhak laughed. he clapped in excitement and threw his arm around taesan’s shoulders. “don’t worry. i think you got a chance.”
woonhak released taesan to check how much of a tip you left. his eyes widened before he hit taesan’s arm. “dude, you definitely got a chance. she tipped $20.”
taesan gawked at the amount. you were generous. it made him smile a bit, but he schooled his expression. he couldn’t give woonhak more things to tease him about. he’d just have to thank you in class.
and he did. thank you, that is.
you just brushed him off with a smile, saying it was no big deal. but, the smile was different this time. no strain. the politeness was still there, but there was more. genuine joy. not as big as the one you gave jaehyun, but better than the one you usually gave him. it felt nice. but, with this, he was scared. what if he started craving more? like seeing you out of class? or trading numbers to compare notes? well, now that he put that into his head, taesan was definitely gonna start hoping that. stupid.
as much as he tried to stamp those feelings down, over the next few weeks, he did start seeing you more out of class. out of coincidence, of course. it started with small waves across the food hall. then, it was whenever you passed each other on campus. then, it was at jaehyun’s party.
“dude, you need to come. you literally carried the whole project. the least i could do is help you unwind this weekend.” jaehyun’s eyes were round and hopeful. it was hard to say no. so, taesan said yes.
taesan isn’t a partier though. he actually hates crowds. they’re loud, messy, and… sticky—whether it be from sweat or spilled alcohol… he dreaded to think of any other reasons. but, jaehyun reassured him. it’d be a get-together in his apartment, so the crowd won’t be too big. taesan somehow doubted it, but he still found himself going. with woonhak, of course.
“can’t believe you know the myung jaehyun and you’re inviting me to one of his parties,” woonhak said, jumping with excitement. “he only ever invites his circles and they’re all cool.”
taesan rolled his eyes as they walked to jaehyun’s apartment. “this isn’t some hallmark movie, woonhak. everyone’s normal. they aren’t any cooler than you or me.”
taesan didn’t often take back his words. he prided himself on only sharing universal facts or opinions that he firmly stood by. but, there you were, making taesan eat his words. you were off to the side behind a small dj set, mixing some of the best club mixes he’s ever heard.
woonhak bumped his shoulder, returning with two drinks in his hand. “they aren’t any cooler, huh? that’s not what your face says.” woonhak sipped his drink as taesan absentmindly took his.
you looked so free. headset wrapped around your neck, hands busy with the dials. you were the definition of cool. you just mixed girls generation’s gee into gd x taeyang’s good boy. who does that? you. you did that. and, people were eating it up, loving the build up and drop.
what he’d usually think is just loud noise, taesan found himself enjoying, grooving with woonhak who was having a blast.
“yooo! taesan! you made it!” jaehyun approached him with open arms. taesan moved his drink just out of reach before jaehyun gave him a bear hug. “i honestly wasn’t sure if you were gonna come! i was scared i got y/n’s hopes up for nothing!”
you were hoping he’d come? though taesan was smirking, internally, he was doing flips and feeling mildly shy. “apparently, i couldn't miss the myung jaehyun’s party.”
“please! it’s just a get-together,” jaehyun said with a shrug.
taesan’s eyebrow quirked. “a get-together… with a dj?”
jaehyun glanced at you before grinning brightly. “it’s just y/n! even though her mixes are insane.”
taesan laughed before taking a sip of his drink. the burn of alcohol was slight but enough to make him recoil a bit. jaehyun laughed at his reaction. “is it strong? i told y/n to go easy on the tequila.”
at taesan’s shrug, jaehyun just patted him on the back. “come on! let’s go say hi to y/n!”
jaehyun grabbed his arm and pulled him a step forward before turning back to woonhak. “you too!” jaehyun let go of taesan to wrap his arm around woonhak’s shoulder, pulling him and taesan through the crowd. when they approached you, you were talking to another guy who was leaning a bit close for it to be a casual conversation. it made taesan squirm inside. alright, let’s calm down. she’s just your classmate.
you looked up from your conversation and yelled. “taesan! you came!”
when the guy looked put-off by you pulling away from him, taesan couldn’t help but feel a bit smug. but, there’s nothing to feel smug about. stop it. just because you were coming up to taesan right now with open arms and the world’s most blinding smile—it doesn’t mean anything. because taesan doesn’t have a crush on you.
you wrapped your arms around him and he gently returned it. you pulled away, only slightly, to look up at him. taesan could make out the slight blush—he means flush—on your cheeks. you gave him a dopey smile. “i’m glad you came! i’m a bit tipsy heh.”
as if taesan caught on fire, you jumped back and covered your gasp with your hand. “sorry! i don’t know if you’re comfortable with hugs. i should’ve asked before—”
“you’re fine, y/n.” taesan softly patted your head which made you smile again.
you turned to woonhak and pointed. “boba guy!”
woonhak sheepishly waved back when jaehyun grabbed him by the shoulders. “do you work at the boba shop?”
woonhak nodded, leaning back slightly at jaehyun’s closeness. jaehyun suddenly hugged him. “dude, you’re my new friend. i freaking love boba.”
you side-eyed jaehyun. it was a cute expression. shit. no. stop it, taesan.
you abruptly linked your arm with taesan. “well, taesan’s been my friend and he also works at the boba shop. i had an insider before you.” you stuck your tongue out at jaehyun before leaning up to whisper in taesan’s ear (which was heating up at your proximity). “i don’t want free boba or anything. i’m just competing against jaehyun.”
“ya, right. you don’t even have your friend’s number,” jaehyun scoffed, jutting his hip out sassily.
your jaw dropped. you scrambled to pull out your phone. “i’m sorry, but would you mind giving me your number?”
taesan could see woonhak smirking out of the corner of his eye. he held back his sigh. he was definitely gonna hear about this at work. he took your phone and put in his number, saving himself as taesan (seatmate). when he returned it to you, you pouted. he watched you type on your phone before you showed him your screen. taesan 🐈⬛🥳.
“you’re not just my seatmate, silly. you’re my friend!” if you grinned any wider, taesan was scared he was going to be permanently blinded. he just smiled at you and patted your head again.
“yes, ma’am,” he replied softly. your eyes crinkled and taesan didn’t know how he was still standing. he’ll finally admit it to himself. you were cute, so painfully cute.
the night continued with you and jaehyun bickering between songs, jaehyun whisking away woonhak to show him all his pokemon cards, you asking taesan a million questions about himself, and taesan returning the favor by asking “what about you?”.
by the end of the party, taesan knew that you preferred listening to soft songs over the k-pop edm that you mix. he knew that you loved feeling the sun on your face but also got really sleepy from it. he knew how you took your matcha (not coffee because you couldn’t handle how bitter it was). he knew that you couldn’t internalize study material without eating ramen at least twice during your study session. he knew a bunch of things about you now. the downsides? he admits he has crush on you and it’s grown and may have a tiny chokehold on him.
of course, it wasn’t confirmed until he noticed himself searching for you in ordinary things. every matcha order he makes, he thought about how you’d rate it based off of your order. every time the sun peaked through the clouds, he thought about how you’d wanna take a nap. every song he came across, he thought about putting it in a playlist he most certainly did not make after learning about your preferences.
okay, so maybe he did like you a little more than he initially thought. but, it doesn’t stop him from acting normal in class. thank goodness. you two carried on, attending lectures now as friends. you indeed did start comparing notes after exchanging numbers, studying together in your apartment even. taesan found himself amused whenever you stopped to make some ramen. you started hanging out from time to time, jaehyun and woonhak included at the most random times. but, he cherished when it was just you two. and, usually, it was when you wanted to go on nightly bike rides.
“it’s too dangerous for me to walk. at least, on a bike, i can speed away from any assailants!” you explained to him with determination. he shook his head, finding you endearing.
it was after these nights that taesan knew he was falling in love with you. whenever he was at work and couldn’t text you, woonhak said he was sulking too much, being more unapproachable than usual. sometimes, he’d make your matcha order just to better remember the time you introduced him to your favorite matcha place. during other partner projects, he thought about how you might go about the topics. on his walks home after work, he wished he was out riding bikes with you, screaming about everything and nothing. whenever he heard k-pop songs playing at work, he thought about the new mixes you’d send him for a sneak peak. on the days the wind was a little harsh on the way to class, he’d crave the way you’d subconsciously cuddle into his side.
one day, you didn’t show up to class. taesan waited. 10 minutes turned into 20, then 30. taesan could hardly focus on the lecture. where were you? he shot you a text. are you okay?
you sent one back just as fast. i feel like there’s a rave going on in my head :(
excuse me? taesan stared at his phone concerned. do you need to go to the er?
noooo! i’m just gonna rot in bed and hope the vaporub does its magic 🙂
as soon as the professor dismissed everyone, taesan shoved everything in his backpack haphazardly and rushed out. what makes sick people feel better? soup, right?
he quickly texted woonhak, asking him to cover his shift. when woonhak agreed and probed why, taesan just said your name. woonhak didn’t ask after that. he just sent a smirking emoji that taesan rolled his eyes at.
he rushed home and put a pot on the stove. he threw open his fridge, glasses clinking violently. taesan stared at his fridge for ingredients. he knew the turmeric in the seasoning pantry would help. he had half of his rotisserie chicken left. he looked at the carrots but remembered you weren’t a fan. he noted the minced ginger and lemons. okay, chicken noodle soup. a classic.
taesan got to work, chopping up all the ingredients in bite-sized pieces and shredding the chicken. he grabbed the chicken stock from his pantry and poured it into the pot. he threw garlic, ginger, turmeric, onions, celery, etc. and started heating it up. he taste-tested every so often, making sure that it’d at least taste good. by the end, taesan was proud to say it was definitely homemade chicken noodle soup. he sprinkled in some cayenne since he knew how much you liked spicy food. he packed it all up in a soup container and texted you. omw to yours!
he stared at the box on his counter, debating whether or not to give it to you. would this be a good time? would it seem inconsiderate? taesan groaned before tucking it under his arm and heading out. his phone buzzed, a reply from you. but you might get sick :(
taesan smiled and shook his head. as if that would stop him from seeing his girl. oh. his girl? you’re not his girl. yet, he hoped.
he near sprinted to your apartment, waving down the people in the lobby to fob him up to your floor. before he knocked on your door, he caught his breath, trying to appear normal. after a few minutes, he knocked and was surprised by how quickly you answered.
oh, you were so cute, wearing a snuggie and the fluffy cat pajama pants he got you for secret santa.
“you didn’t have to come,” you croaked, moving aside so he could step in. as you closed the door behind him, you peered curiously at the box in his arms. “whatcha got there?”
taesan turned and presented you the box. “i made you soup since you’re sick and all.”
you tilted your head in confusion. “where’s the soup?”
he looked down at his hands. holy— where’s the soup? then, he remembered. when he finally decided to bring the box, he forgot to grab the soup on the counter. he groaned and hung his head.
“i might have forgot it,” he muttered. he’s so stupid. how could he forget the whole purpose of him coming here?
you giggled and then winced. “well, what did you bring instead?”
taesan quickly hid the box behind his back and nervously laughed. “nothing! nothing. how about i go back to my apartment and bring the soup?”
“you don’t have to,” you shook your head slowly. “you can, however, tell me what the box is.”
“uh, i’m gonna go back and get the soup!” taesan yelped as he shuffled around you, careful to keep the box out of your reach.
you frowned (cutely, taesan would add). “but, you’re already here. so is the box.”
“how about i give you the box after i get the soup?” taesan tried to reason.
“how about you leave the box and go get the soup—so you don’t forget it again—and i take a peak in the box?” you suggested cheekily. you wiggled your eyebrows at him, swaying a little. oh, how taesan would never win against you.
“if you promise to wait until i give you the soup, i’ll leave the box.”
you paused and thought about it. you sighed and agreed in defeat. “fine. i’ll wait.”
“good girl,” taesan smirked as he set the box on the kitchen counter. you handed him your keys as he opened the door. “i’ll know if you tried to open it by the way.”
as you rolled your eyes, taesan left, his heart racing. he really hoped you wouldn’t open the box until he was back. what if you didn’t wanna see him after? he wouldn’t be able to give you your soup and then he’d have to eat this soup knowing that you hated him.
the anxiety fueled him. he did a full sprint to his apartment and raced up the stairs. he snatched the soup container and raced back down. like the world was smiling down on him, people were already going into your complex so he slipped in with them. he couldn’t stop tapping his foot impatiently, glaring at the numbers going up slowly. when it finally stopped on your floor, his feet stomped down the hall to your door.
he opened your apartment door to see you on the couch, poking at the box sadly. when you heard him come in, your head whipped up which made you wince. he shook his head and lightly scolded you. “you’re gonna make your headache worse.”
“i was just excited to see you,” you muttered. man, that made him a bit hopeful.
he smiled as he dug through your drawers for a spoon before presenting you with the soup. you clapped softly and took it. “did you make it?”
taesan nodded shyly. “sorry if it doesn’t taste that good. but, it will help you get better. so, i expect you to finish it.”
when you took your first sip, taesan could’ve sworn your eyes twinkled.
“taesan, no joke, this is so good,” you praised, taking more spoonfuls.
taesan let out a sigh of relief before plopping down next to you. “i’m glad. i would’ve gone home and cried if you said it was bad.”
you hummed before setting down the soup. you faced him, then pointed at the box. “can i open it now?”
just like that, tension reentered his body. fuck. he did say that he’d give it to you after he got the soup. “y-yes?”
grinning, you grabbed the box and began to open it. taesan leaned forward and placed his hand on top of the box. “before you open it, can you promise me one thing?”
you looked at him, blinking in confusion. “what’s up?”
“you won’t hate me after?” taesan hated how desparate that came out.
you just laughed and grabbed his hand. wow, yours were so warm.
“taesan, i could never hate you—unless this box was holding my mom’s head in it. sorry, that was morbid.” it was your turn to nervously laugh. but, for whatever reason, it let taesan relax a little.
when you opened the box, a soft gasp left you. you pulled out the ippodo kanza matcha and the matcha bowl taesan crafted for you in a pottery class he took. you placed them on the counter as taesan watched in anticipation. you took out the spotify code tag that taesan had bought from etsy. then, the small jar full of folded up papers followed. finally, you found the letter sitting at the bottom.
taesan was itching, his breathing becoming uneven. he stood up, startling you, and sat at the dining table. you looked at him confused.
“sorry, i don’t think i can be next to you when you read that,” taesan laughed oddly.
you snorted and opened the letter. he couldn’t watch you read it. he fiddled with his fingers, letting himself pick out the details on the textured walls of your apartment.
he couldn’t bear thinking of what you’d think of his letter. it contained everything. how he really treasured your friendship. how he treasured you.
how he loved how particular you were about your matcha. how he loved your studying quirk of eating ramen twice. how he loved riding bikes at night with you. how he loved your dj music even though he hates edm.
how you changed his college experience. how engineering, though it was still hard, became bearable after meeting you. how you made this semester the happiest semester of his life. how your smiles became his encouragement. how your laugh was best kind of music life had to offer. how warm your presence was even during the coldest days. how he wanted to be that person for you.
how he wanted to be the guy that makes the matcha that makes you hum in happiness. how he wanted to be the one making you your second and third ramen on a particularly rough study night. how he wanted to keep being the only person you sent your new mixes to. how he wanted to be yours if you’d have him.
it was cheesy, taesan knows. but, it was his feelings. the feelings that he tried to eat and forget about.
when he heard sniffling, he glanced up at you. tears had welled up in your eyes, a few droplets making their way onto the letter. you lifted your head, trying to will the tears back into your tear ducts. your reaction had taesan nervous. were these good tears? were these goodbye tears? did he ruin everything? did he—
“come over here, stupid.” you glared at him. taesan hesitantly returned to his spot on the couch. you pulled out your phone and tapped away before giving him your phone. he gingerly took it.
my bf 🥰
oh… you were dating someone else… that’s embarrassing. taesan should’ve known. were there signs he ignored? was he that blind? this was—
as if you read his mind, you leaned over and opened your text messages with your boyfriend. it felt wrong looking at them. but, taesan couldn’t help but peak at them.
oh. oh! taesan’s head whipped up and stared at you with his mouth open. these were the texts between you two.
“yes, you big, slow dummy. i would love for you to be mine because i’ve been yours since forever.”
so, yes. taesan did catch a break. he caught the biggest break of his life. you.
bonus moment!
“do you have the lecture notes from today?” you asked, drinking the lukewarm soup. taesan rubbed the back of his neck, nervously laughing. “i… i couldn’t pay attention.” you lifted your eyebrow. “you couldn’t pay attention?” “i was worried about you,” he murmured, looking away from you. he heard soft rumbles and peaked over when they became full-on laughs. you hid your face in your hands before looking at him with the same brilliant smile he became infatuated with. “i guess we’ll have to rewatch the lecture together.”
disclaimer: this, in no way, reflects the idol. this is purely fiction. ✧ comments and reblogs are appreciated! ✧ give my other works a read too! you may now leave requests (˶ˆᗜˆ˵)
tagged; @onedoornet @en-dream @heeheesang @prettyange1 @bee-the-loser @httpenhoon @r1kification @seungheartyou @pumpkg
#onedoornet#taesan x reader#han taesan#taesan fluff#boynextdoor#boynextdoor imagines#boynextdoor scenarios#boynextdoor x reader#bnd imagines#bnd scenarios#bnd x reader#⍣ 𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐚: writes#⍣ 𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐚: one shot#⍣ 𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐚: 𝓪𝓷𝓼𝔀𝓮𝓻𝓼
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જ⁀♡⊹。° you're no prize either
( frat boy! michael kaiser x fem! reader )



♡ a/n — dare i start an actual frat boy! bllk series?
♡ word count — 8.2k
♡ content — michael kaiser x fem! reader, frat boy! kaiser, sarcastic! reader, reader lowkey hates him in the beginning, chose a random frat for kaiser, dared dating, he fell first AND harder, angst, mention of alcohol, mention of drugs (nothing explicit), truth or dare, reader doesn't trust kaiser at first, rooftop date, banter, i think that's it
♡ synopsis — Kaiser had spent hours just trying to learn your name. He'd be damned if he let anything else ruin it...even his own mistakes.
── .✦ for when the bell rings, lover, you're on your own
The music was loud enough to vibrate the floorboards. Bass thumping. Lights flickering. Laughter echoing down the corridors of the Sigma Delta Rho frat house like some chaotic anthem.
The air was thick with smoke—cigarettes, weed, something stronger maybe—and the lingering stench of spilled beer clinging to the kitchen tiles.
Michael Kaiser sat comfortably on one of the sagging leather couches in the living room, legs spread, head tilted back as he laughed at something one of the guys said, platinum strands of hair catching the pulsing LED lights above him.
His gold chain shimmered, shirt unbuttoned enough to show a hint of ink on his chest. He looked like a king holding court, surrounded by his usual entourage—drunk athletes, rich kids who’d never had to lift a finger in their lives, and girls who’d gotten a little too used to the taste of vodka and attention.
He wasn’t drunk. Wasn’t high, either—not in the traditional sense.
He didn’t need any of that. Michael Kaiser was high on himself. On the attention. The thrill of being the main event.
The way people looked at him—like he was something to worship. And why wouldn’t they?
He was the golden boy of the university’s soccer team, the face of every victory poster, the one the girls whispered about in bathroom lines and the guys envied at the gym.
His name meant something here.
In the circle forming on the floor, empty bottles and red solo cups scattered like debris, someone called out, “Truth or dare?”
Groans. Laughs. A girl giggling as she leaned against someone’s shoulder, lipstick smudged and glitter dusted across her collarbones.
The bottle spun, lazily slowing until it pointed to Kaiser.
All heads turned. “Kaiser,” someone drawled, eyebrows raised. “Truth or dare, man?”
He smirked, tongue poking the inside of his cheek. “Truth.”
There were a few disappointed awws, but someone piped up before the moment could fade.
A girl, already three tequila shots past sober, leaned in from across the circle. A pink tube top barely clung to her, and her lashes looked heavy with mascara.
“Have you ever been in a relationship?” she asked, voice sing-songy and teasing.
Kaiser didn’t even blink. “Don’t do those. Next.”
He made a motion with his hand to spin the bottle again, already losing interest, but—
“Wait!” the girl giggled, biting her lip as she hiccupped and tried to balance herself. “I got a better idea.”
Her finger wavered in the air as she pointed across the room.
You were standing near a corner of the wall, half-shielded by a bookshelf and a poorly placed lamp. Not hiding, exactly—but not blending in either.
You weren’t part of the noise. No solo cup in hand, no glitter on your cheeks. Just a fitted jacket over your top and dark jeans that actually covered your legs.
You had a calm, steady energy to you that felt jarring compared to the storm of the party.
Out of place.
Like you’d followed a friend here and were now realizing you’d made a mistake.
Her finger finally steadied. “Her.”
Kaiser barely turned his head to glance in your direction. You were scrolling your phone, or pretending to—eyes flicking up now and then with clear discomfort.
You were pretty, yeah, but not the usual scene.
Not a girl he recognized from the regular Friday night loop of bedroom whispers and morning-after silence.
“For what?” he said flatly, the disdain in his voice like cold steel.
“Just sleep with her, bro,” one of the guys near him laughed, taking a deep drink from a mystery jungle juice that smelled more like rubbing alcohol than actual liquor.
Kaiser scoffed. “You serious?” His voice held that usual smoothness, but it was tinted with annoyance. “What do I look like to you? This isn’t a charity.”
“I’ll give you a thousand bucks.”
The room stilled for half a second.
The guy leaned back against the couch, sipping again. “You heard me. A thousand. If you can get her to go home with you tonight.”
Kaiser raised an eyebrow.
It wasn’t about the money—he didn’t need it. He drove a custom sports car, wore sneakers that cost more than most people's rent, and savings account probably had thousands he didn’t even know about.
But it was the principle.
The challenge.
The ego boost.
He glanced back at you again, studying you now. You didn’t look like a groupie. Didn’t look like someone who’d fall for cheap lines and brand-name cologne.
Interesting.
Kaiser smirked. “You’ve got a deal.”
The circle erupted into laughter, hoots and drunken clapping.
One guy whistled.
The girl who’d suggested it grinned, clearly thinking she’d done something hilarious.
Kaiser ran a hand through his hair, gold rings flashing.
He didn’t feel bad.
This was just a game. And Michael Kaiser never played to lose.
Kaiser took one last swig from his cup, letting the sweet burn of rum and something vaguely fruity settle on his tongue before handing the half-empty drink off to someone in the circle.
He rolled his shoulders like he was loosening up before a match—because for Michael Kaiser, every interaction was a performance.
A game. And the end goal was always the same: win.
He adjusted his chain, tossed a wink at a girl watching him from across the room, then made his way toward you—each step measured, confident, radiating the arrogance that had always worked for him.
Eyes trailed him, whispers followed, and by the time he was a few feet away from you, half the room had taken notice. Girls leaned into their friends. Guys grinned knowingly.
And you?
You didn’t even look up.
You were still leaning against the wall near a crooked bookshelf, scrolling your phone like you were miles away from the chaos, the music, and the boy currently stalking toward you like a lion toward bored prey.
He stopped right in front of you, all smile and swagger.
“Want a drink?” he offered, voice smooth, cocky.
You didn’t flinch. Didn’t blink. Just looked up slowly with a blank expression that had all the warmth of a blank page.
“No thanks,” you said flatly, before turning your attention back to your screen.
Kaiser raised an eyebrow, grin not faltering. “C’mon, just one.”
“I’m driving my friends,” you replied with a painfully fake smile, eyes sharp. “So, no.”
You didn’t say it like you were offended.
You said it like you were bored.
And if there was one thing Michael Kaiser was not used to, it was being boring.
“Well, no drink, no problem,” he continued, undeterred, shifting his weight slightly as if ready to launch into some award-winning pick-up line. “How about we—”
“Go upstairs?” you interrupted, eyebrows raised as a laugh escaped your lips—an actual laugh, loud and disbelieving. “Oh my god. That’s what this is?”
You didn’t even try to hide your amusement. You actually had to take a breath to keep yourself from laughing again.
“I’ll pass,” you said, mouth twisted into a smirk. “But I’m sure all those girls would love to.” You nodded toward the small crowd of sorority girls eyeing the two of you like it was some reality TV drama. A few of them shrank away when they realized they’d been caught staring.
Kaiser glanced over his shoulder with a shrug. “They usually do.”
“Of course they do,” you said sweetly, tilting your head like you were praising a puppy for almost not peeing on the carpet. “But I’m not ‘usually.’”
He opened his mouth to say something else, but your eyes flicked to the side.
“Oh—there’s my friends,” you said suddenly, tone perky. You slid your phone into your pocket and gave him two quick, condescending pats on the arm, like he was a child who’d just lost a spelling bee. “Gotta go.”
You moved past him without so much as a second glance.
“Hey!” he called after you, his voice laced with disbelief.
You turned around halfway, gave him a tight, mocking smile. “Bye, Kaiser.”
You said his name like it tasted bad in your mouth. Like it was something you needed to spit out.
He stood there for a second, stunned into silence. His hands dropped into his pockets as he turned back toward the living room, jaw ticking slightly.
When he got back to the circle, the guy who made the original dare was doubled over laughing.
“Damn, man,” he said between wheezes. “Did she just—?”
“Shut up,” Kaiser muttered, grabbing his abandoned drink.
“What’d she say?” one of the girls chimed in, leaning toward him with too-bright eyes.
Kaiser took a long sip, leaned back in the couch like none of it had happened. “She’s boring.”
That was all he offered. Cold. Disinterested. Like it hadn’t irritated the hell out of him that you’d shut him down with less effort than it took to open a soda can.
“Boring?” the girl who made the first dare purred, her tone playful and smug. She twirled her hair around her finger. “She looked more like the type you’d never go for.”
“I wouldn’t,” he said without hesitation, licking a bit of alcohol from the corner of his mouth.
The girl leaned in a little more, eyes glinting with something mischievous. “Okay then—date her.”
Kaiser narrowed his eyes. “What?”
“I’m serious,” she giggled. “Date her. Get her to fall for you. Text her, walk her to class, play the boyfriend thing.” She made a little heart shape with her hands. “Make her yours.”
He scoffed, shaking his head. “What’s the point?”
She smirked. “I’ll make it two thousand.”
A slow pause settled over the circle.
Kaiser stared at her, then glanced toward the hallway you’d disappeared down, your silhouette long gone. His fingers tapped lightly against his knee.
Two thousand dollars was still just money.
But now? Now it felt like a challenge.
The girl crossed her legs and smiled, sipping her drink like she’d just set the whole house on fire and dared him not to run in.
“Make her fall for you, Kaiser. You’ve got the charm, right?”
He leaned back, looking toward the ceiling, tongue poking against the inside of his cheek again.
“She doesn’t even know me,” he said finally.
“She doesn’t care to,” one of the guys added, snickering.
Kaiser hummed low in his throat, the grin creeping back across his face—but it was colder now. Calculating.
The thing that pissed him off the most?
He hadn't even gotten your name.
Michael Kaiser didn’t lose.
Not on the field, not in the gym, and definitely not at his own damn party.
So when you disappeared from that living room like smoke through his fingers, leaving only a bruised ego and a drink in his hand, something in him itched.
By the next morning, the dare should have been forgotten.
A joke.
Something to laugh off with his boys while scrolling through photos from the party and piecing together the haze.
But it wasn’t.
Instead, he found himself replaying your words.
The way you didn’t look at him until the last second. The sarcasm in your voice. The lack of awe in your eyes.
Like he was just another frat guy trying to pull you into some upstairs bedroom.
Which, okay—he kind of was.
Still. The game had changed.
Now, it wasn’t about the money. Not really.
It was about you.
And the fact that you’d walked away.
It started simple.
The Monday after the party, he skipped his first class just to stand outside the psych building.
He didn’t know why—just a gut feeling.
Then he saw you.
Coffee in hand. Headphones in. Eyes locked on your phone as you walked straight past him, completely oblivious to his existence.
He turned slowly, watching you walk away like some movie moment that didn’t have the right soundtrack yet.
He spent the rest of the day tracking you down like a goddamn side quest.
He asked around campus—subtly at first. A comment dropped in class, a question to a girl who maybe knew your major. By Thursday, he had it down.
Name. Major. Coffee order. Walk schedule.
He wasn’t even subtle anymore. Kaiser was the kind of guy who thought his confidence could justify just about anything.
Including showing up to your Tuesday/Thursday morning lecture even though he wasn't registered.
You were walking out of the building, coffee in one hand, headphones back in, when he fell into step beside you.
You didn’t look at him, not immediately.
"You're starting to become a stalker, Kaiser," you said lightly, not breaking stride.
He grinned, pulling his sunglasses down just enough to wink. "You remembered my name."
"You yelled it across a beer pong table and it’s printed on every soccer poster I see. I think the bar for 'unforgettable' is pretty low."
He laughed. "Touché."
You finally looked at him—briefly. “So, what now? You gonna follow me to my car?”
“Nope,” he said, flashing that practiced, megawatt grin. “Just walking with you. Trying to see how long it takes before you agree to one date.”
“Huh…” You hummed thoughtfully, finally slowing a little as you turned toward the parking lot. “Let me think about it.”
Kaiser’s smile widened, chest puffing a little. “Really?”
For a moment, you looked entirely sincere. Your eyes were soft, head tilted. Like maybe, just maybe, he was breaking through. His heart gave the tiniest skip.
Then—
“Hell no.” you chirped, turning on your heel. “Bye!”
And by the time he processed it, you were gone. No witty comeback. No second glance.
Just the ghost of your laugh floating behind you, and the realization that this wasn’t going to be easy.
Not even close.
The next week, he got bold.
He sat behind you in class. Close enough that you could feel his presence but not close enough to get kicked out.
When you turned around once—just once—to glare at him, he raised his eyebrows and whispered, "Miss me?"
You dropped your pen on purpose.
Right on his foot.
“You’re not subtle,” you told him outside the building.
“You’re not very nice,” he replied, beaming.
“And yet you’re still here.”
“Maybe I like the way you hate me.”
You rolled your eyes, tossing your empty coffee cup into a trash can. “You’d be surprised how many people I ignore. You’re just loud.”
He stepped closer, just to see what you’d do. “One date. Come on.”
You folded your arms, tilted your head. “You don’t even know my name.”
“Yes I do,” he said smugly.
“Oh yeah? What is it?”
“…Don’t change the subject,” he deflected immediately.
You snorted and turned your back. “You’re an idiot.”
“An idiot who’s not giving up.”
“Then you’re both persistent and dumb. Dangerous combo.”
But the thing was—
You started to smile a little when you saw him coming.
You rolled your eyes with less venom.
You didn’t walk away as fast.
And for a guy like Michael Kaiser, who usually didn’t have to work this hard for anyone, you were becoming his favorite problem.
Because no matter how charming he got, no matter how many times he said “just one date”…
You kept telling him no.
And he still hadn’t figured out your name.
But god, was he trying.
There were plenty of ways Michael Kaiser could’ve gone about learning your name.
He could’ve asked a classmate.
Snuck a peek at the attendance sheet.
Maybe — just maybe — he could’ve even admitted he didn’t know it and asked you directly.
But that would’ve been too easy. Too normal.
And Kaiser was nothing if not absurd.
So instead, he stalked the university’s Instagram account like it was a scouting mission.
It started one night in his room — high off a win from intramural soccer, shirtless, music blasting while one of his frat brothers smoked on the floor and scrolled Tinder.
Kaiser was supposed to be relaxing. Instead, he was twenty-seven tabs deep into campus pages and department tags.
"Bro, what the hell are you doing?" Ness asked without looking up from his phone.
"Research," Kaiser muttered.
"You look like you're planning a heist."
"Shut up, I'm working."
It took two hours and one bag of Hot Cheetos, but he found it.
A friend’s profile — tagged at the last spring formal — with a post that featured you, laughing in the corner of a dance floor in a dress he hadn't seen on you before.
The caption didn’t say much, but the tags?
@yourusername.
Click.
There you were. In clean squares and unfiltered chaos — coffee runs, late-night selfies, group photos with people he vaguely recognized. You didn’t post often, and even when you did, you rarely smiled straight at the camera.
But your name sat at the top of your bio like a golden key.
He whispered it once. Then twice.
Then grinned like he’d just won the lottery.
Two days later, he made his move.
You were already in class — hoodie on, laptop open, legs crossed, entirely focused. You didn’t even glance up when the door opened. Didn’t seem to care when other students filtered in around you.
Kaiser waited until the last minute.
Just before the professor came in, he slid behind your row and approached from the back — quiet, smooth, like he wasn’t the biggest attention magnet in the building.
He leaned down until his mouth was just near your ear.
And then he said it.
Your name.
Soft. Confident. Like it was the only word worth saying.
You froze, fingers halting mid-keystroke.
Slowly, you turned to look at him.
"...Excuse me?"
He gave you that million-dollar grin — the one that got him free drinks, phone numbers, and more attention than anyone ever needed. “Told you I’d figure it out.”
You blinked. “Did you finally grow the spine to ask someone?”
“Better,” he said, sliding into the seat beside you like it was made for him. “Instagram.”
Your eyebrows lifted. “You stalked me?”
“I researched. Big difference.”
You stared.
He only smirked.
“And what exactly are you planning to do now that you’ve cracked the code?”
“Easy,” he said, drumming his fingers on your desk. “Ask you out.”
Your eyes narrowed. “Seriously?”
“As a heart attack.”
You looked him up and down like you were searching for some sign of sincerity — or maybe just the punchline to a joke.
“Just one date,” he added, suddenly a little softer. “Nothing crazy. No frat games. No pressure.”
You tilted your head at him. “This is usually the part where a guy says he wants to ‘get to know me better.’”
He leaned in a little closer, eyes flickering between yours. “I do want to get to know you better.”
You snorted. “That line must’ve worked on a lot of girls.”
He grinned. “Enough. But none like you.”
“Is that flattery or strategy?”
“Both.”
You sighed, trying to hide the way the corner of your mouth twitched. “I haven’t even said yes.”
“But you haven’t said no.”
Kaiser was relentless — but not overbearing. And you hated to admit it, but there was something stupidly charming about the way he was trying.
You held his stare for a moment.
“Let me think about it,” you said finally.
He smirked. “So you're saying there's a chance.”
You turned in your seat, giving him one last glance.
“Maybe.”
And Michael Kaiser, for once in his life, didn’t know what to do with a maybe that didn’t end in instant victory — only that he wanted it more than anything.
The coffee shop was a quiet corner of campus — warm light filtering through the front windows, indie music humming beneath the low buzz of conversation and clinking mugs.
The kind of place where you could disappear if you wanted to. No parties. No smoke in the air.
No guys named Michael Kaiser.
You were nestled in the back, earbuds in, sweatshirt sleeves pushed up, a small fortress of notes and highlighters surrounding your laptop.
You were mid-sentence in your essay when a shadow passed over your table — and before you could glance up, someone pulled out the chair across from you and sat down like he owned the place.
You didn’t even pause your typing.
"Go away, Kaiser."
“No hello?” His voice was smooth, teasing — the kind of tone meant to charm. “Not even a smile?”
Your fingers paused mid-word.
You pulled one earbud out slowly, already sighing. Then you looked up — expression flat, unimpressed, but with just enough sparkle in your eyes to say you weren’t entirely surprised.
“Michael,” he said again, with a hand over his heart like he was correcting something sacred.
“No,” you said, eyes narrowed in amusement. “Kaiser.”
“Cold,” he clucked his tongue, leaning back in his seat like he had all the time in the world. “And here I thought we were making progress.”
“You thought wrong.” You turned back to your laptop. “Now leave before I stab you with this pen.”
He made no move. Just reached out casually, tugged a napkin from the metal holder, and started folding it into something useless.
“I’ll leave if you go on a date with me.”
You didn’t even glance up. “We’re back to bribes now?”
“I’m negotiating.”
“Is that what this is?” you said, still typing. “Because it sounds a lot like pestering.”
“Call it persistence,” he shrugged. “I like a good challenge.”
You stopped typing.
Paused. Closed your laptop slowly and set your pen down with care.
Then you looked him dead in the eye.
“Fine.”
Kaiser blinked.
Then blinked again.
"...Wait, what?"
You were already tearing a page from your spiral notebook, scribbling something down.
He sat there, stunned, mouth half-open as he watched you write your number with a calm, steady hand. The same hand that had threatened him with a pen five seconds ago.
You folded the paper once and slid it across the table like a final play in a long, quiet war.
“There. Text me whenever.”
Then you stood, collected your things in one fluid motion, and slung your bag over your shoulder like this was just another Tuesday.
Like you were the one who’d been in control the whole time.
Because maybe you had been.
Kaiser watched you start to leave, too dumbfounded to come up with something smart to say.
The usual fire in his chest — the one fueled by ego, pride, and endless competition — flickered into something softer. Something strange.
For one second, he wanted to stop you.
To tell you not to go.
To ask why the victory didn’t feel like a win.
But instead, all he could do was sit there in the coffee shop with your number in his hand and the ghost of your scent lingering in the air.
Michael Kaiser — the guy who always had the upper hand — realized something he hadn’t before:
He was completely, hopelessly, on the hook.
And you’d barely even smiled.
You weren’t sure what you were expecting when you agreed to go on a date with Michael Kaiser.
Actually, no — that was a lie. You were sure.
You expected something obnoxious: loud music, his frat boys lurking in the background, a party disguised as a “hangout,” maybe even a rented sports car parked at your doorstep with him leaning against it like the final boss of a 2013 Tumblr post.
But this?
This was… different.
He had texted you an address and a time with no fanfare, no emojis, no smirking gifs. Suspiciously normal.
And now here you were, climbing three flights of creaky metal stairs behind an apartment building, the city glowing behind you as the sun dipped low. He hadn’t even offered to pick you up. Just said
Wear something warm. Trust me.
You reached the rooftop with a deep breath, scanning the scene before you — and paused.
A small round table was set up in the corner of the rooftop, a string of warm fairy lights strung haphazardly above it. Two chairs. A bottle of wine. A couple of mismatched plates.
There was a portable speaker playing something soft and jazzy, completely out of place for the boy known for blasting bass-heavy EDM at 3 a.m.
You spotted him near the edge of the rooftop, messing with a lighter and looking way too proud of himself.
“Well,” you called out, voice sharp with dry amusement, “this doesn’t scream ‘you’re about to be murdered’ at all.”
Kaiser turned to you with that infamous grin. “Not even a little?”
You raised a brow. “You’re not gonna murder me, right?”
“Depends,” he said, walking toward you with a slow, confident stride. “If you insult my wine pairing, I might consider it.”
You snorted. “Oh no. A threat. I’m so scared.”
“You should be,” he replied, opening the chair for you like a gentleman — though the smirk on his face made it impossible to take him seriously. “You’ve been playing hard to get. I had to resort to actual effort.”
You sat, crossing your legs and letting your eyes scan the set-up again.
“I’ll admit,” you muttered, “I thought you’d take me to a Taco Bell drive-thru.”
“Oh, don’t worry,” he said, pouring wine into your glass. “That’s still on the table. Fourth date, maybe.”
You gave him a look, and he raised his glass in a mock toast. “To keeping expectations criminally low.”
You rolled your eyes, but clinked your glass against his anyway.
The night unfolded slowly, but not awkwardly. The city skyline twinkled in the distance like an audience watching from the dark.
The rooftop was a quiet little world separate from the parties, the chaos, the reputation that followed Kaiser everywhere like smoke.
Surprisingly, the conversation wasn’t shallow.
He asked about your classes. Your friends. What you were planning to do after school. You didn’t give him too much — kept your walls high — but still, it was strange how easy it felt to talk to him once the music was low and the moon replaced the neon lights.
He looked at you differently up here. Less like you were a prize he was chasing, and more like someone he actually wanted to know.
Halfway through dinner, he surprised you again.
“I almost bailed on this.”
You blinked. “Oh?”
“Yeah.” He leaned back in his chair, looking up at the stars. “Kept thinking it’d be easier to keep annoying you from a distance. That if I saw you and you weren’t interested again, it’d get annoying. Or maybe I’d get bored.”
You tilted your head. “And now?”
He looked at you, eyes striking even in the low light.
“Now I’m pissed I didn’t do this sooner.”
You blinked, thrown off for a moment. Then you masked the twist in your chest with a shrug.
“Maybe you’re getting soft.”
“Maybe you’re just that good,” he replied instantly.
You laughed — an actual, full laugh — and that seemed to be all the reward he needed. He leaned forward, chin in hand, just watching you like he could memorize this moment if he tried hard enough.
The wind picked up slightly, and you pulled your jacket tighter around you. Without saying anything, Kaiser took off his own and draped it across your shoulders.
You stared at him.
“…You’re definitely gonna murder me.”
Kaiser grinned.
“It’s no fun if you’re expecting it.”
It had become a thing.
You and Michael Kaiser.
Not a label, of course — that would be too easy, too simple, and nothing about him was simple. But you’d seen each other more than just a few times now. Late-night texts turned into coffee runs, and coffee runs turned into spontaneous lunch dates.
The rooftop dinner had been the beginning of something neither of you dared name, but you could feel it — blooming slowly, quietly, like the kind of fire that never looked dangerous until it warmed everything around it.
He’d show up unannounced sometimes, always flashing that same signature grin.
One time, he met you outside of your lecture with a hot drink and a smug "Missed you" like he hadn’t just seen you the night before.
Another time, he tagged you in a meme and five minutes later was knocking on your dorm window like a raccoon that learned how to use social media.
He was relentless.
But more than that — he was real. Surprisingly thoughtful.
Stupidly charming.
And under the cocky confidence, there was something earnest about him when he looked at you.
And now here you were, on date number... what? Five?
You had stopped counting.
It was a chilly night, and you were walking together down a quiet street just off campus.
The world felt smaller in the evening — street lamps casting golden halos over the cracked pavement, leaves crunching beneath your boots, your hands tucked into your jacket while
Kaiser strolled beside you with his usual swagger, shoulder brushing yours every so often.
“Y’know,” he said, glancing at you as you kicked at a stray rock, “I think this is the longest I’ve ever gone without kissing someone I’m into.”
You arched a brow, smirking. “What a tragedy. Should I start a fundraiser?”
“I’m serious.”
“You’re always serious when it’s about your ego.”
He laughed — sharp and amused — before stopping mid-step. You turned, a teasing remark ready on your tongue, but he was looking at you differently.
No smirk. No cocky gleam in his eye.
Just... him. Watching you like you had some kind of gravity he hadn’t quite figured out yet.
“I like you,” he said simply.
You blinked.
“I figured,” you replied, trying to brush it off, but the way his eyes searched yours made the sarcasm die in your throat.
He stepped closer, the air between you tightening like a string being pulled taut. “No, I mean I really like you.”
“You don’t even know me that well.”
“I know enough,” he said, voice low and certain. “And I want to keep knowing more. Every damn thing.”
You swallowed, hard. You weren’t used to this kind of honesty from him — this stripped down version of Michael Kaiser that didn’t come wrapped in a joke or a wink.
His hand lifted, slow, giving you time to pull away if you wanted — but you didn’t. Fingers brushed your cheek, then tucked a piece of hair behind your ear. Warm. Careful.
“I think about you,” he murmured, “when you’re not around. It’s annoying.”
You stared at him. For once, words felt like they’d abandoned you. All that sarcasm, all that banter — gone in the face of the way he was looking at you right now.
Then, softer: “Be mine.”
Your chest twisted. The words were simple — cliché, even — but the way he said them? Like he wasn’t used to asking for things that mattered.
Like he didn’t quite know how else to say I don’t want this to be just a game anymore.
You didn’t answer. Not right away.
You stepped forward instead, your hand finding the front of his jacket, tugging him down — and then you kissed him.
It wasn’t perfect.
It was warm, and tentative at first, your lips brushing his like you were still deciding — still teasing. But then he kissed you back, and everything tilted.
One hand cradled your face, the other wrapped around your waist like he couldn’t believe you were real.
It was the kind of kiss that could undo you if you let it.
When you finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, both of you catching your breath, the chill of the night forgotten entirely.
“I didn’t say yes,” you whispered, your voice a little shaky, a little smug.
His thumb brushed your jaw. “You kissed me.”
“So?”
“So, I’m counting that as a yes.”
You rolled your eyes, but your heart was beating too loud for the sarcasm to land properly.
“Fine,” you said. “I’ll be yours.”
He smiled — really smiled — like the sun just rose behind his teeth.
“Good,” he whispered. “’Cause I was already yours.”
You didn’t mean to fall.
You told yourself you wouldn’t. You liked the thrill, the teasing, the way Kaiser annoyed you into smiling on your worst days — but you weren’t supposed to fall.
It was just fun. That was all.
Except it wasn’t, not anymore.
Because somehow his name had become a constant in your phone, your schedule, your mind.
And not in the flashy, overwhelming way you expected from someone like him. It was in the quiet things.
A photo of your coffee with a dumb pun underneath.
A playlist he made you — half a joke, half genuinely good music.
A hoodie you realized you’d been wearing more and more without thinking twice about who it belonged to.
And sometimes, late at night, when you’d toss your phone down and stare at the ceiling, you’d think: This can’t be just casual.
You started noticing the way he watched you when you weren’t looking — not with that arrogant glint, but with something softer, almost careful.
You weren’t sure he even realized he was doing it.
Like he was studying you. Like he wanted to remember you.
One night, he took you to a dimly lit arcade tucked behind an alley, far from the glossy rooftop and candlelight of your first date.
There were neon lights flickering against his skin and the smell of stale popcorn in the air. He handed you a pile of tokens with a smug grin.
“Winner gets bragging rights,” he said.
“Didn’t you already have those the day you were born?”
“Don’t be jealous just ’cause you’re gonna lose.”
You tried to roll your eyes. You really did.
But he was already grinning that boyish grin — the one you were starting to learn was a real smile, not just a public performance — and your heart did that dumb, traitorous flutter thing again.
Halfway through the night, after a heated dance game battle where you beat him by two points, he leaned against the machine, panting slightly.
“You’re horrible,” he murmured, his eyes tracing your face.
You tilted your head. “Took you this long to figure that out?”
He laughed. But then he went quiet — that rare kind of quiet he only gave you when something inside him was shifting.
“I don’t wanna mess this up.”
You blinked. That wasn’t a line. That wasn’t teasing. That wasn’t Kaiser being Kaiser.
“That’s the first non-cocky thing I think you’ve ever said to me,” you whispered.
He didn’t smile. He just looked at you, and for once, there was no mask.
“I don’t care what this is, what we’re calling it,” he said. “But if I lose you, I’ll regret it.”
Your breath caught. It wasn’t the words — it was the way he said them. Honest.
Like he knew what it meant to have things slip through his fingers, and he was trying not to do that with you.
You didn’t know what to say. You didn’t need to say anything.
Instead, you grabbed his collar and kissed him again — not like the first time.
Not as a joke. Not to tease.
But because your chest hurt in the best way when he looked at you like that.
Later, when you walked back to your place and the city was quiet around you, he held your hand without thinking.
Not in a possessive way.
Not to show off.
Just… like he wanted to feel you there.
It was simple. Easy.
“I’m still not your girlfriend,” you said, breaking the silence as you glanced up at him.
“Yeah, yeah,” he replied, lips quirking. “But I’m working on it.”
You laughed, bumping your shoulder into his.
You were falling. You knew it. Maybe you already had.
And judging by the way Michael Kaiser was looking at you — like you were the only person who’d ever looked back at him and seen past the shine — maybe he was falling too.
Neither of you said it.
But some nights, you’d lie awake with your phone lighting up beside you, his name blinking across the screen, and you’d feel it in your chest like a secret waiting to be spoken.
Michael Kaiser never fell for anyone.
Not really.
Not past a few nights, a few texts, maybe a messy situationship that he forgot about the moment it got inconvenient.
But this was different.
You were different.
And he felt it most when he wasn’t with you.
It hit him one random evening, after a long practice, shower-steam still clinging to his skin as he lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. Music buzzed faintly through his speakers. His phone buzzed too, with something stupid in the group chat. He didn’t answer it.
He’d opened Instagram out of pure muscle memory — and there you were.
A selfie in the golden-hour light outside your favorite coffee shop, holding your usual order with a dumb caption about caffeine and capitalism.
Hair pulled back, a little smirk in your eyes. You weren’t even trying.
And somehow it ruined him.
His thumb hovered over the screen, not liking the photo, not sending a reply. Just looking at it, like the digital version of you might reach out and smack him for staring too long.
He realized, painfully, that he missed you even though he’d seen you yesterday.
And suddenly, he was sitting up.
He ran a hand through his hair, exhaled like someone had just landed a punch square in his ribs, and mumbled into the silence,
“Shit.”
He loves you
It wasn't dramatic.
It was quiet. Terrifyingly honest. A sentence he’d never even said before, not even in his head.
He could still remember the first night he saw you — shoved in a corner at that frat party, eyes sharp, tongue sharper.
You had nothing to prove and didn’t give a damn who he was. You looked at him like he was a headline you’d already read.
Now?
Now he wanted to be read over and over again — only by you.
So he planned it out. The question. The official ask.
Because if he was gonna fall, he was gonna fall with style. And with certainty.
He invited you to a small art gallery that had a rooftop. You liked art — he'd paid attention, even if you didn’t think he did.
He had the owner set up string lights above, little candles at a table for two, soft indie music playing in the background. It wasn’t dramatic.
But it felt like you.
When you arrived, your eyes widened — just a little — before your lips pulled into that expression he knew: half surprised, half suspicious.
“Okay,” you said, arms crossed, glancing around. “Who died?”
He laughed. “No one, yet. But I might if you keep looking at me like that.”
“Is this an apology date?”
“It’s a please-be-my-girlfriend date.”
You blinked. Once. Twice.
Then, with that same sarcastic bite, “You ask every girl like this, or am I just lucky?”
He stepped forward, slowly. Carefully.
His hands slid into the pockets of his black slacks, keeping himself steady even though his heart beat in uneven staccato.
“I’ve never asked anyone,” he said, eyes not leaving yours. “Not like this. Not… like you.”
The silence between you thickened — not awkward. Just full.
You could practically hear the city below the rooftop, people moving on with their lives, unaware of the quiet shift in yours.
“You like me that much, huh?” you teased, still trying to keep it light.
He leaned in slightly, not touching, just close enough for you to feel the heat of his words.
“I love you.” His voice was soft, rough around the edges. “I don’t know when it happened. I can’t go another day pretending I don’t.”
You weren’t sure if you’d been holding your breath.
But when you exhaled, your chest felt light. Your fingers felt warm.
You didn’t say anything for a moment.
Then you reached for his hand — the one still in his pocket — and laced your fingers through his.
“I guess you can call me your girlfriend now,” you said quietly, smile pulling at your lips.
He grinned. Full, radiant, the real deal.
“You guess?” he echoed, tugging you toward him.
You kissed him again.
Right there, under those golden string lights, with his hand on your waist and the whole city spinning below.
There were a million girls who’d wanted to be Michael Kaiser’s girlfriend.
But he didn’t want them.
He wanted you.
And it felt like it.
The kind of “together” where he reached for your hand without thinking, where your name rolled off his tongue in casual affection.
Where your toothbrush lived next to his in his frat house.
Where you wore his hoodie home without asking.
Where he sat through a movie he hated just because you liked it, and you stayed awake for his late-night post-match rants, even when your eyes stung from exhaustion.
The two of you had slipped into something rare — something soft. Something Kaiser had never done before.
And that was why it was so cruel.
The night you found out, it wasn’t even dramatic.
You were at a house party. Not a wild one — just the usual mix of too many people, too-loud music, and a kitchen littered with half-finished drinks.
You hadn’t even planned on going, but Kaiser wanted to celebrate after his team’s win, and you — soft as ever for him — caved.
He’d gone off somewhere to talk with some teammates. You stood in the kitchen, sipping water, scrolling on your phone, when a voice caught your attention.
“Wait, wait— she still doesn’t know?”
The tone was mocking. Laughing.
You didn’t even realize you were eavesdropping until your fingers froze on the screen.
“She really doesn’t,” someone else said. “It was, like, what? Two thousand if he actually dated her?”
You slowly turned your head.
Two guys stood near the doorway. One of them was from Kaiser’s team, the other you vaguely recognized from that first party — months ago now. He was grinning like the whole thing was hilarious.
“Kaiser made it look easy. Girl practically hated him, and now she’s obsessed. It’s kinda impressive, actually.”
You stood still. So still. The cup in your hand felt suddenly too light, too fragile.
“I think he’s actually into her now, though,” the first guy said. “Dunno if the dare even matters anymore.”
And that — that sentence — somehow made it worse.
Because it wasn’t just before.
It wasn’t just a fluke.
There’d been money involved. Intent. A dare to get you.
To win you like some stupid prize.
And the worst part?
You had fallen.
Hard.
You didn’t confront him at the party.
No.
You waited.
You waited until the next night, when he came over and pulled you into his arms like it was the easiest thing in the world. You stood stiff against his chest, and he noticed it immediately.
“Hey,” he mumbled, pulling back slightly. “What’s wrong?”
Your eyes met his.
There was nothing soft in yours. Just hurt.
Cold and sharp.
“Was it worth it?” you asked.
He blinked. “What?”
“The money. The dare. Was I worth the two thousand?”
The moment the words left your mouth, his expression changed. Slowly. First confusion. Then recognition.
Then the sick, sinking horror of being caught in something you never thought would matter again.
“Fuck,” he whispered.
You stepped back. “So it’s true.”
“Wait—listen to me, I didn’t—”
“You didn’t what, Michael?” you snapped. “You didn’t mean to like me? Or you didn’t think I’d find out?”
He reached for you — you stepped out of reach.
“It was one stupid dare at a party I didn’t even want to be at,” he said, voice desperate now.
“I was going to walk away after that first night — you walked away first. But then I kept thinking about you, and it wasn’t about the dare anymore. I swear to god—”
You laughed. It was hollow.
“God, you really had me. You really had me thinking I was different. That you saw something in me.” You shook your head. “But I was just another game to win.”
“No,” he said, firm now. “Not after that second date. Not after I kissed you. Not now. Not ever. You were never a game, not after I knew you.”
You looked at him.
At the boy who’d kissed you on rooftops, who memorized your coffee order, who made you laugh so hard your stomach hurt.
The boy who said he loved you.
And you didn’t know what to believe anymore.
“I need space,” you whispered.
He froze.
“Please don’t—”
“I need space.” You pulled the hoodie off your shoulders — his hoodie — and pressed it into his chest.
And then you left.
You didn’t slam the door.
You didn’t cry until you were halfway down the street.
And behind that closed door, Michael Kaiser stood frozen. Hoodie in hand. Guilt crashing down on him like waves.
Because he had everything he wanted —
And now he had no idea if he’d ever get it back.
It was weeks before you saw him again.
Michael tried. God, he tried. He texted. Called. Showed up outside your lecture hall. Waited by the coffee shop where he used to sit across from you with that insufferable smirk that somehow started to feel like home.
He didn’t beg — not openly. But there was something desperate in the way he looked at you every time you turned away.
Like he was chasing something slipping through his fingers.
You ignored him every time.
Until you couldn’t anymore.
You were walking across campus, headphones in, a book tucked under your arm, when you saw him standing under the tree outside the library.
Just like the first day he approached you in class — but this time, he didn’t look cocky.
He looked… wrecked. Unshaven, dark circles under his eyes, like whatever he was carrying inside had eaten away at him.
You almost kept walking. But you paused. Maybe it was curiosity. Maybe it was closure.
You took out one earbud.
He saw you. Straightened a little.
“Just hear me out,” he said quickly, voice strained. “Please.”
You didn’t speak, but you didn’t walk away either.
So he tried.
“I know what I did was—awful. And I can’t take it back. I wouldn’t expect you to just pretend it didn’t happen. But I swear, I didn’t plan to fall for you. The dare was just a dumb joke at first, yeah, and I was bored, and cocky, and stupid.” He exhaled, words tumbling out now, like he had practiced them a thousand times.
“But you weren’t part of the joke. Not after that first conversation. Not after the rooftop. I stopped caring about the money. I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I fell in love with you before I even realized it was happening—”
“Stop.” Your voice was quiet.
Sharp.
It cut him mid-sentence.
He did. Silence fell.
You looked at him then. Really looked at him. And something in your expression made his stomach twist. You were calm — too calm. Blank.
Like the girl he’d met at that party all those months ago. Before he knew you smiled when you saw dogs on the street.
Before he knew how you stirred your coffee before taking the first sip.
Before you ever laughed at his terrible jokes or kissed him like you didn’t want to breathe without him.
And he hated it.
“You think any of that makes this better?” you said softly. “You think saying you didn’t mean it changes what it was?”
He swallowed. You stepped closer.
“You saw me and thought: target. Prize. Another name to win. And you played it so well. You flirted, teased, chased—like it was some elaborate trick. I was your dare. Do you get how disgusting that is?”
“I didn’t mean—”
“It doesn’t matter what you meant!” Your voice broke, not loud, but shaking. Your hands trembled at your sides, and you looked at him like you didn’t recognize him.
“You started something with me because of a game, Kaiser.”
He looked at you, “Michael…” He just wanted you to say his name. One he’d spent so long convincing you to use.
“You kept going even when you knew. Do you know what that feels like, Kaiser? To look back on every moment and wonder if it was real? To second-guess every kiss, every word?”
He stood there, helpless.
You took a breath, forcing yourself to steady.
“I let you in,” you whispered. “You made me feel seen. Like I was important. But I was just the game for you to win.”
“No, you weren’t,” he said, quickly. “You were everything. You are everything. And I ruined it. I know that.”
You shook your head.
“I can’t do this,” you said. “Because no matter how much you say you love me now, I can’t forget how it started. I will never forget that someone had to pay you to look my way.”
He opened his mouth — and then closed it. There was nothing else to say.
So you walked away.
And this time, he didn’t follow. He watched you go, that folded piece of paper with your number burned into his memory like it had been carved into him.
He’d always been good at winning.
But some things you don’t get to win back. Some things you break — and they stay broken.
And maybe, somewhere in another life, things had started differently.
But in this one, Michael Kaiser stood under a tree, clutching an apology no longer worth saying, while the only girl he ever truly wanted walked away from him for the last time.
And this time, she didn’t look back.
my longest works are kaiser angst. i hate this man so much, writing his misery is amazing
likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!
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⋆⁺₊❅⋆ christmas w/ the bsd men .ᐟ
⍋⋆*❅ pairing: various bsd men x gn!reader [dazai, atsushi, ayatsuji, ranpo, fukuzawa, kunikida, chuuya, akutagawa, oda, ango, nikolai, fyodor, sigma, shibusawa, jouno, tecchou]
⍋⋆*❅ genre: fluffy headcanons (some crack again hehe)
⍋⋆*❅ content warnings: none! also headcanons are focused more on cultural/winter festivity aspects of christmas, not the religious ones (except for mentions in fyodor's part)
⋆˙ ☃︎ — 𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐄𝐃 𝐃𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐘
⁺⋆*❅ dazai osamu
you both decide to go out and explore the city!
purposely stops under every mistletoe around town to makeout with you (he somehow knows where all of them are...)
you go bar hopping to try different holiday drinks like spiked eggnog, cranberry mimosas, and whiskey sours
after you both get super drunk, he takes you out to the town square and twirls you around so you're both dancing under the fresh snow and moonlight
you make christmas cards for everyone with custom stamps and bake christmas cookies to gift (he sets aside the ugly cards + burnt cookies to give to mori/the port mafia)
⁺⋆*❅ atsushi nakajima
something cute to heal your inner child
he takes you sledding, and you scream the whole time from how fast you both go
atsushi tries to help all the kids at the bottom of the hill who wipe out (awwww)
you don't tell him, but his nose gets super red from the cold and you think it's really cute
you get hot chocolate on the way back and spend the night talking by the fireplace (he got you both matching pjs)
⁺⋆*❅ ayatsuji yukito
christmas = the perfect opportunity to dress you up, either as a slavic doll or mr./mrs. claus
escorted by security and a sniper ofc, you both go to the mall and shop around (mostly so he can buy more clothes and accessories for you)
you both get some eggnog and take photobooth pictures at the mall
before he gives you your presents back at home, he pulls you into his lap and makes you tell him if you've been naughty or nice like he's santa lol
does the pocky thing with you but uses a candy cane o///o
gifts you all the shopping bags full of clothes he bought for you at the mall
⁺⋆*❅ ranpo edogawa
ofc it's all about sweets so you build gingerbread houses
ranpo can't build one so he ends up eating his and all of the candy you bought
you both make more sweets from scratch (ranpo probably quits halfway through bc he burnt the gingerbread cookies), so it's just you lol
you decorate christmas cookies and make candy cane hot cocoa and eggnog
after voicing your concerns about having too many sweets and baked goods, ranpo assures you that they'll be added to his snack collection/vault and there's no need to share them with everyone else
⁺⋆*❅ fukuzawa yukichi
doesn't like to celebrate much--he originally wanted to go to a cat cafe, but it was closed bc of the holiday :(
he planned on having a cozy christmas dinner with you and some other members of the doa instead at the office (definitely not bc he also still has work to finish)
somehow, ranpo convices the both of you to dress up as mr. & mrs. claus and you have a whole photoshoot at the office
you end the night at a secluded onsen with some warm tea 😌
⁺⋆*❅ kunikida doppo
basically the karen/soccer mom of christmas. he has an itenerary planned out and you're sticking to it.
you start by unwrapping presents by the tree⎯he gets you something you've had your eye on for a while, since he knows you wouldn't buy it with your own money (so he bought it for you)
i can't explain it but he def has the perfect ugly sweater that he only pulls out and wears on christmas
you then go to do something cute outside, deliver presents to the other doa members (he gives dazai bandages + coal...)
probably the type to refuse to go into their houses/apartments bc he doesn't want to waste too much time (he lowk caves in tho)
at the end of the day, you both visit a pretty christmas lights show
⋆˙ ☃︎ — 𝐏𝐎𝐑𝐓 𝐌𝐀𝐅𝐈𝐀



⁺⋆*❅ chuuya nakahara
chuuya is extra so he goes all out with decorations. he fills the house with poinsettias and a huge christmas tree (he has to use gravity to put all the ornaments on it lol)
you make a special mulled wine together
he takes you out a nice fancy dinner (ofc he bought you a beautiful red suit/dress to go along)
sings for you by the fireplace hehe
the tree is full of gifts when you get home (don't ask him how much he spent, just be appreciative that chuuya's your lover 🤫)
⁺⋆*❅ akutagawa ryunosuke
lowk hates the cold but wants to make u happy so he goes out with you to a christmas market
you both get a matching black scarf and glove set
u go to a curios and antiques store (one of his fav places!) and stop to get some hot tea
akutagawa is constantly blushing bc of ur cuteness, and when u kiss him under a mistletoe, he turns beet red but insists it's just the cold
periodically hugs you "for warmth" and definitely not bc he gets jealous of other people looking at you
when you get back home, you both take a warm bath and cuddle by the fire, and he gifts you a special antique item he secretly bought from the store ♡
⁺⋆*❅ oda sakunosuke
christmas dinner with the kiddos
gets everyone matching ugly sweaters and you both fill the kids' stockings while they make snow angels outside
you go to the mall to take the kids to meet and take pictures with santa
you all bake and decorate gingerbread houses and christmas cookies together
his present for you is a wedding ring, and the kids are beyond excited to have you as their other parent
you all fall asleep watching a christmas movie
⁺⋆*❅ ango sakaguchi
he was forced to take work off bc of the holiday, but he's relieved that he gets to spend more time with you
he takes you to a fancy christmas ball that's being thrown by some government officials
he gets a little tipsy and can't stop complimenting how nice you look in your dress/suit, and how grateful he is to have you as his partner
when you finally dance together, you swear it's the most lively you've seen him look⎯he has that glow in his eyes ^u^
firm believer that he gets super clingy when he hasn't seen you in a while, so during dinner he pulls you into his lap to eat and always has a hand on you
when you both finally go home after a long night out, he gives you a present, which is a nice watch/bracelet
⋆˙ ☃︎ — 𝐃𝐄𝐂𝐀𝐘 𝐎𝐅 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋𝐒
⁺⋆*❅ fyodor dostoevsky
obviously takes you to church first
listens to christmas carols from the church choir (he's lowk an old man so he likes them)
you then go to a ballet show to watch the nutcracker
he makes traditional russian dishes for dinner like meat pies, vegetable fillings, and fish, and drink some sbiten (a warm honey + spice drink), which he prefers over hot cocoa
you end the night reading books by the fireplace as he strokes your hair
gifts you your favorite books and some warm winter clothes/coats
⁺⋆*❅ nikolai gogol
christmas is one of his fav holidays after halloween
after decorating the house and the tree, you both go to a christmas wonderland attraction
other visitors/children keep asking if he's santa bc of his white hair, and you giggle innocently as you take pictures of him
makes Sviat Vechir: A 12-dish meal with kolach, cabbage rolls, and other traditional ukrainian dishes for dinner
gifts u a white sweater he knit himself (awww)
⁺⋆*❅ sigma
it's one of his first christmases, so he lets you plan what to do
you make him some cinnamon rolls + eggnog for breakfast
you both bake and decorate some christmas cookies⎯he's surprisingly good at making intricate patterns and designs, and his cookies are so pretty you almost don't want to eat them
you go skiing⎯sigma definitely struggles at first but he gets the hang of it pretty fast
after you get cold, you both go back inside to get some hot cocos and eat some fondue
you both watch the sunset on the ski lift, which is the most beautiful view against the snow-covered mountains (he secretly can't talk his eyes off you tho)
at home, you unbox presents!
he gifts you plane tickets to a nice getaway vacation ( ๑ ˃̵ᴗ˂̵)و ♡
⁺⋆*❅ shibusawa tatsuhiko
(honorary doa girlie lol)
not particularly interested in the holidays, but he likes flashy things so i think he'd enjoy seeing light shows/big christmas displays
however, he likes to spoil you, so he gets you an advent calendar with an assortment of nice clothes, fancy jewelry, and more
watches as you unbox each day's gift and relishes in your cute reactions
lets you paint his nails red, white, and/or green as you sit in his lap
decorates the christmas tree with gems instead of ornaments since he has so many laying around
⋆˙ ☃︎ — 𝐇𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐃𝐎𝐆𝐒
⁺⋆*❅ jouno saigiku
another winter cabin getaway bc he hates how crowded and noisy the city gets during this time of year
you go iceskating on the lake together
he can hear the position of you feet and corrects your form so you don't slip and fall on the ice
even if you're good at iceskaing, he keep his arms linked with yours the whole time or holds onto your hand
at one point, he feels like showing off and spins you around and throws you up into the air like a figure skater, and he giggles maniacally while you scream
makes snow angels with you
once you get back to the cabin, you both roast some s'mores over the fireplace and enjoy a warm cup of hot cocoa
you snuggle by the fire and fall asleep in eachother's arms
⁺⋆*❅ tecchou suehiro
he takes you to go hunting + ice fishing
you probably get freaked out by the thought of shooting the animals, so you both end up just doing a nature walk in the woods instead lol
while looking for the perfect tree, you find a clearing and build a buff snowman (tecchou insists he's more muscular tho)
tecchou chops the tree you decide on and hauls it back home himself bc he's that strong lol
he decorates the tree while you cook some of the fish he caught for dinner
you also make some berry tarts and jam cookies with some berries you foraged on the walk (.◜◡◝)
#vanilladove#vanilladovebsd#bungo stray dogs#bungou stray dogs#bungo stray dogs x reader#bsd headcanons#bsd fluff#bsd x reader#christmas#dazai x reader#atsushi x reader#ranpo x reader#fukuzawa x reader#ayatsuji x reader#nikolai gogol x reader#ayatsuji yukito x reader#nikolai x reader#fyodor x reader#sigma x reader#sigma bsd#shibusawa x reader#shibusawa tatsuhiko x reader#chuuya x reader#akutagawa x reader#oda sakunosuke#oda x reader#ango sakaguchi#ango x reader#jouno saigiku x reader#jouno x reader
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