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blkkizzat · 3 months

Note

please write nerd geto ! i’m sure you’ll write something amazinggg

Of course doll! Sorry this took a while I was sick most of December and January whooped my ass with classes starting again but I love love the idea of Nerd!Geto especially a Nerd!Geto with glasses so had to write a whole fic. Hope you like it :3 ♡

Lessons in Anatomy

“Shall I give you a lesson, Y/N? Do you want me to teach you how to squirt?”

summary: thanks to some bad choices and party girl ways you're on academic probation and can't afford to fail another test. fortunately your longtime friend nerd!geto is there to give you lessons in both economics and anatomy.

cw: college AU. fingering, squirting, dirty talk, edging, mentions of satosugu, rich party kid shit, incestuous friendships, mentions of reader x other jjk men, mentions of casual sex/hookups, mentions of drinking/drug use, reader is a dumb (and I mean dumb) bimbo, a little bit of a brat too, slight coercion, slight dubcon, virgin!suguru, soft dom!sugu, sex ed!sugu, roleplay as sugu is pre med major, some minor fluff, pet names: slut, bunny etc. a bit of a crack fic too haha. slightly black fem coded, no descriptors. a/n: LOL how this became an 8.2k fic about squirting idk chile... but special shout out to @littlemochabunni who talked me off a ledge when I was being emo and I wanted to scrap the entire thing and start over. w/c: 8.2k

“I can’t believe I’m here and missing the biggest party of the year!”

You groaned as you scrolled through your stories to see all the pics and vids of your friends living their best drunken lives and happily binge drinking on frat row to celebrate your school’s football league championship win.

Toru just did unassisted keg stand pushups and you missed it!

You, on the other hand, were stuck studying with Suguru in his dorm room.

100% sober and being forced to learn 5 weeks of econ, that you never took a single note for, in one weekend.

Well not forced exactly.

You and Satoru had practically begged Suguru to help you study this weekend. If you failed this class you would flunk out as you were already on academic probation.

“Well I for one can’t believe you’re dumb enough to attempt to cheat off Toji and Sukuna of all people.”

Suguru quipped back while pushing up his glasses. He snatched your phone away from you and placed it on the other side of his desk, away from you.

Not that he took offense to the remark, but he too had better things to do on a Friday night than tutoring you. Keggers definitely weren't his scene though and Suguru wouldn’t be caught dead at a party celebrating with those frat monkeys. Even if said monkeys included his childhood friends.

However, as a pre-med student he’d much rather stay in to write his essay for the clinical research internship he was trying to get.

“Hey! I didn’t cheat off them for the record! Toji and Sukuna said they had the hookup for the answers!”

You pouted grumbling as you tried to reach for your phone on the other side of the table only for Suguru to take it again. This time he slid it into his pockets, keeping it away from you for good.

“Urgh, it’s not my fault they got the test for ECON 230A and 230B mixed up. I didn’t even know there was a second section!”

Suguru had to resist the urge to roll his eyes at you again. The pilfered test definitely had ‘ECON 230B’ printed in big bold letters at the top.

You all were idiots.

Unfortunately for you, you were just a cheerleader idiot.

The other idiots, Toji and Sukuna, dubbed the ‘The Boom Bros’, were the reason your team even won the championships in the first place. The best defensive backs your college or any college in your division have seen, ever. Not letting an opposing team score more than 10 points the entire season, there was no way in hell they were going down for that right before the championships.

That left you as the scapegoat, which was something Suguru noted that you happily took the fall for. Although there is a very good possibility of you being a soon-to-be college dropout, your social clout was skyrocketing.

Word spread among the popular social circles fast on how you ‘saved the big game’.

Suguru couldn’t care less about football, though he was getting annoyed at all the texts, DMs and messages you received asking where you were. They were making you completely lose the little focus you were capable of, which is what made him confiscate your phone in the first place.

Sighing, Suguru was pretty sure you would be competent enough to pass if you just applied yourself more to anything other than drinking and parties.

“Y/N, just try to focus on studying, please.”

You pouted, turning back to the textbook in front of you.

How did Suguru’s nerdy ass enjoy studying so much?

Studying, especially anything to do with math, gives you an ick. In fact, you were sure the only reason you graduated from high school and even got into this university was because you played 7-minutes-in-heaven with Choso at the start of senior year.

It had been a secret double dare from Gojo but you sucked the soul out of that boy in Gojo’s closet that night. From then on, Choso pretty much did anything you wanted that year, including all your homework. Hell, he even wrote your college admissions essays and in turn you gave him some sloppy toppy here and there.

Choso was always eager to feel your soft lips on his cock, so you’re sure he could have thought of a better way for you to cheat so you didn't have to study at all and could be out partying right now. It’s just your bad luck that he was studying abroad this semester with his little brother Yuuji.

Although, even if you did flunk out you weren’t that worried. Worst case scenario if you couldn’t find a career or a husband you could always be one of Gojo’s three mistresses he said he would keep once he was older, married and had taken over his family’s company.

He had pinky-pie-promised he would take care of you if you needed it and as one of your best friends you knew he was good for that promise. Even if he did make it while you both were partying, tripping balls off acid so hard that Satoru convinced himself your cunt could produce cotton candy. He chewed on your pussy for 2 hours straight one wild night on your group’s graduation trip where he then asked if you would be his future mistress.

But that didn’t necessarily mean you wanted that life for yourself. You liked your independence and Satoru would be alot to deal with, even with 2 other mistresses and a wife.

Therefore, unless you wanted to resign yourself to that fate, you were stuck with Suguru as your tutor.

It’s not like you didn’t get along with Suguru, he’d been one of your closest friends since you were young along with Satoru. But as you got older your interests kind of drifted apart and you saw him less and less, especially as you got to college.

You wanted to party and Suguru prioritized studying.

You had missed him. You wanted to have fun with him again.

And this was definitely not fun.

Reading the same paragraph for the fifth time and retaining shit all of whatever the passage had said about ‘demand curve fluctuations’, you were ready to climb up the walls.

You began to fidget, still in your cheer uniform from the game earlier. The material of your skirt rode up to your upper thighs when you splayed your knees out and leaned forward to lay your head on the desk face down with an exasperated yawn.

Suguru shared in your exasperation but directed his towards you with another sigh, looking you over. His weariness at you from your inability to study causes his eyes to linger on your form longer than they should.

Resting against his desk, your back had molded into a nice natural little arch as your tits pushed forward . Adjusting his glasses Suguru found it difficult to pull his eyes away once they landed on your thighs. Practically leering, Suguru is transfixed by the way the fabric bunched at your hips digs into your soft skin.

He curses your university’s school colors as the next thing that caught his eye was the bright yellow cheer panties you wore that were tight enough to show the full shape of your cunt. Your panties are so skinforming that they don’t fail to give you camel toe. The indent of the slit between your fat pussy lips is on full display.

You’ve always been attractive, Suguru muses as he feels his pants slightly tighten. But it’s no mystery why you were such a slut now if these were the positions you found yourself in when alone with guys.

“Seeing something you like, Sugu baby?”

Suguru snaps his head up at your teasing to see you looking straight at him, your head still resting on his desk but has since turned to face him. The wink along with the lazy yet knowing smile forming on your cherry stained lips lets him know you know he was staring at your cunt.

Caught red handed, Suguru rolls his eyes and scoffs as he returns back to the textbooks in front of him while you laugh. Dismissing your question entirely he changes the subject back to studying but can’t resist throwing in a little dig to take the heat off himself.

“Y/N, can’t you just focus? You’ve barely made any progress… Or is it that you want to flunk out and be reduced to Toru’s mistress or something?”

Fuck, you forgot Suguru knew about that too. (Duh, of course he did. He was the sober one who found you both, taking care of you once your come downs had hit).

Not letting him get away with that shade, the brat in you clapped back as you returned his sarcasm back at him.

“Okay, well high school was one thing but do you want to go through college without getting any play too? Or are you satisfied just from peeking up a skirt?”

Annoyance flashes in Suguru’s eyes. He thought you had some audacity seeing as you were the one who was casually flaunting your pussy for him in the first place. Nevertheless, you continued, using Suguru as a punching bag for your current academic frustrations.

“Your pocket pussy and getting head from Toru behind the bleachers at prom doesn’t count by the way!”

Suguru pinched the bridge of his nose as his tolerance of the situation had officially bubbled over. He was tired of everyone thinking he was missing out on something just because he didn’t want to kill off brain cells partying every weekend or play STD Roulette with casual hookups.

You bringing up prom was a low blow. It was the first time he’d ever had a drink and Toru had practically begged him. Satoru wanted to know if his head was just as good for guys as it was for girls (spoiler alert: it was).

Also, what you thought just because you fucked around alot it was actually any good?

“Yeah and getting railed by a bunch of banana brained monkey jocks, that counts Y/N? They wouldn’t know what to do with your clit even if it was an actual football.”

Suguru retorted and he watched as your eyes widened with shock then seethed with anger as you finally sat upright in the seat.

Ding Ding! He had hit a nerve.

“Oh and you would know what to do, cherry boy?”

Suguru knows he probably shouldn’t push it further. But like Satoru, you always knew what buttons to push to get under his skin. Suguru can’t help but to want to get under your skin as well, especially since he was never one of the ones getting under your clothes.

“Well I can actually spell clitoris, so that already puts me at an advantage over those ball chasing monkeys. Have you ever even had a real orgasm before, Y/N?”

You started to speak but Suguru cut you off before you could.

“—and I mean one that didn’t come from tripping with Satoru or a toy? I bet you’ve never even squirted before.”

Damn.

You resisted the urge to chew on your lip, not wanting him to know just how right he was but your immediate silence was telling. Racking your brain, you tried to find a way to get your lick back but found yourself at a loss.

It was mostly true to be honest.

A hot and heavy make-out session at a party would typically lead to mostly underwhelming sex and you would have to return to your dorm or wait for them to leave to finish yourself off with your rose or dildo… or both.

Okay and sure, maybe the one and only time you did really have an intense body orgasm was the time you dropped acid with Satoru but… fuck –Wait…squirting?! Wasn’t that just pee? Gross!

Satisfied with your small ammunition, after a pause you bit back again.

“Alright, so frat boys aren’t sex gods, tell me something I don’t know. It’s still sex Suguru—”

You flipped your hair and crossed your legs arrogantly as you continued.

“— sex that you aren’t having, which, duh, is obvious if you think squirting is an actual thing. Because Eww nasty, I’m so not into piss-play, Sugu!”

You waited for his reply, assuring your win but Suguru just blinked at you, dumbfounded.

The thought of you having won shatters when Suguru erupts into a fit of laughter. Hitting the table for emphasis Suguru was near howling as the glasses fell off his face and he had to clutch his sides for support, keeling over in his chair.

Suguru couldn’t actually believe that you believed squirting was the same as urinating!

On second thought, knowing you, this kind of checked out…

Watching Suguru in a fit of hysterics had your face burning with embarrassment as waves of self-consciousness came over you.

To be honest, you weren’t even sure why you were feeling insecure as this was supposed to be your victory! This was not the reaction you expected from him at all to say the least!

Just what made this so funny!? Because you didn’t want to piss yourself during sex?!

“Sugu…”

“Hey, Suguru!!!”

Frustrated with him ignoring you and still laughing after failing to get his attention, you jumped up from your seat and marched directly in front of Suguru. Angrily you yanked his head up by his man bun.

You were so ready to tell Suguru to go to hell for laughing at you. Even if you weren’t too sure exactly what he was laughing at you for, he was still being a jerk right now.

However the words caught in your throat as soon as you saw his face.

Suguru’s wide grin easily illuminated the dimly lit dorm room. Tears gathered in the crinkle around his eyes and pulled into an expression of such warmth that you were reminded of all the fun times you had together goofing off over the years. You nearly forgot what it was like to see him laugh like this.

So nostalgic you almost forgot he was still laughing at your expense — almost.

“Don’t be an asshole Sugu…”

Your voice was low, lacking any real bite as all your fire fizzled and was replaced by a pout.

Defeated, you let go of your stiff grip on his silky bun causing it to unravel and frame his face with thick black strands that flowed down past his shoulders. Although it wasn’t the first time you had seen Suguru with his hair down and no glasses, you couldn’t help but stare at him now.

He had grown much more into his features since high school.

College Suguru had sharper eyes, a slimmer face with a strong jawline and hair that flowed down to his chest. Not to mention his lanky boyish frame had filled out. The muscles underneath were prominent now even if he was wearing a baggy band tee and sweats. Suguru didn’t go to parties but from the looks of him he certainly didn’t miss going to the gym.

He didn’t look much like the nerd you knew him to be right now at all.

Granted, you were still a bit salty with Suguru but didn’t want to fight with him anymore. Especially given the way his dark eyes sparkled as he gazed up at you, your heart nearly skipping a beat as if you were really only noticing him now for the first time.

Sniffling, a cocktail of emotions swirls in you. Moisture pricks in the corners of your eyes despite yourself.

Suguru, who was also staring at you, took notice right away.

“Hey Bunny, I’m sorry...”

You relaxed a bit hearing the old nickname he and Satoru gave to you back in middle school, you couldn’t remember the last time he called you that.

Grabbing your hand in his much larger one, Suguru gave your palm a gentle rub with his thumb. His hand was surprisingly soft.

Despite his sweet gesture, your brow twitched slightly at Suguru’s soft chuckles, still continuing albeit less frequently, at your expense.

“It’s just that… I dunno, I guess I would have expected you to have experienced it at least once before Y/N, it’s definitely not pee.”

You huffed. You still weren’t convinced it wasn’t pee but now you were more curious than anything.

“And how do you know that Suguru? You’ve made a girl squirt before?”

There was no sarcasm in your tone this time, just doubt since he would have told Toru and Toru definitely would have told you if Suguru was getting play from someone.

Suguru to his credit wasn't discouraged though.

If anything, he seemed to gain confidence on the matter now that you weren’t fighting him, rather looking to him for knowledge, for the first time tonight.

“Well, no, but I did get a 4.0 out of Anatomy last semester and unlike you I actually paid attention in Sex Ed. Also, just because I’m a virgin, doesn’t mean I’m completely clueless. There is a little thing called the internet, Y/N.”

You mouthed an ‘O’— a bit ashamed that you actually thought because he was a virgin who didn’t party he was merely just sitting around clueless to everything about sex.

But what could just reading textbooks and the internet teach him over actual experience?

Then again, Suguru was practically a genius, if he was saying something was possible you could be sure it was. Still you couldn’t stop your mind racing as you considered his previous words.

You were the one with all the experience so you should have experienced it before, right?

Maybe the guys you hooked up with weren’t the problem then? Maybe you were.

“What if– w-what if I’m the problem Suguru? What if I just can’t?”

Tugging you closer, his fingers now interlacing with yours, Suguru’s other hand settled on your hip giving you a warm squeeze. You were so close to him now that his chin almost rested on your belly and Suguru was craning his head up to you with a small sly grin still on his face.

“It’s not a matter of can or can’t Bunny, you just don’t know how. Shall I give you a lesson, Y/N?”

“Do you want me to teach you how to squirt?”

You felt a bit lightheaded as you considered the words that just came out of Suguru’s mouth. You weren’t shy at all when it came to matters of sex and you had the reputation to prove it. Yet your stomach still did a little flip at Suguru propositioning you.

Sure you were a bit of a slut and had at least made out with almost every guy in your group of friends, but not Suguru. Not for lack of attraction though, you had teased Suguru in the past but he had always been the responsible one, like an older brother or protector.

Besides, Satoru was always so needy for his attention. There weren’t often times you were with Suguru alone and he never seemed all too interested in sex either, at least when directly compared to a horn dog like Satoru.

You didn’t actually know if he was serious though so you decided to make light of it, giggling.

“If you wanted me to pop your cherry Sugu, all ya had to do was ask.”

Suguru smiled back at you, he shook his head chuckling.

“I’ll only need to use my fingers, Y/N. Besides, this is about you. What I really want is for you to not flunk out, I would miss you, ya know?”

You try to keep a poker face but you couldn’t help feeling giddy at the fact you were extremely happy to hear Suguru would miss you. You had already missed him and combined with the inkling of new feelings stirring in your chest from seeing your old friend in a new light you feel adrenaline begin to pump through you as you brim with nervous energy.

“Let’s think of this as a study break from Economics. You had to miss the party but we can still have some fun. You might even learn something for once, eh?”

His hand left your hip in order to push the books and papers on his desk aside and patted the wooden surface. The hand still intertwined with yours guided you over.

“Hop on up, Bunny. It’s time for your anatomy lesson.”

You look at the desk and pause as if you are unsure, biting your lip.

Thoughts of finally hooking up with Suguru excited and the fact you were nervous whether you would disappoint him if you couldn’t actually squirt flood your mind at once. However when you meet Suguru’s eyes and feel gentle reassuring pressure on your hand your body is already moving towards the desk, making the decision for you.

Your heart is already thudding in your eardrums by the time you settle on top of Suguru’s study desk. Suguru immediately shifts into instructor mode, picking his glasses up off the floor and adjusting them back on his face.

He directs you to lean back and relax and soon your shoulders are against the wall behind the desk as you are propped up on your elbows.

You yelp as Suguru startles you by grabbing your hips with a firm squeeze and scooches you flush to his pelvis. Feet propped up to the edge as well all you needed were the stirrups and you could have been at the gyno's office, giggling now at the thought.

“Sugu, you can’t be serious. I feel like you’re about to give me a pap, not an orgasm.”

Suguru’s mouth twitches up into a smirk.

“There’s a reason they have you lie in this position, makes for easier access. If you’re going to squirt I’m going to need to find that slutty lil’ gland of yours and I don’t mean your clit, Bunny.”

You huffed but you were otherwise agreeable.

You couldn’t deny you were a slut especially not now with your legs spread open wide exposing your bright yellow cheer-panty clad cunt to Suguru. Laid out like this, the thin layer of spandex is stretched to its absolute limits causing your chubby pussy lips to poke out of the sides. This does not go unnoticed by Suguru who hadn’t taken his eyes off your lower half since you initially spread your legs.

His Adam's apple bobbed heavily as he swallowed and breathed deeply at the sight of you.

Suguru can barely believe he’s really about to do this.

If anything he is overconfident in his abilities, despite his lack of actual on-the-job experience so to speak. From all his studying as a pre-med student, books, health articles and yes even porn, Suguru could say he had an in-depth understanding of human anatomy and bodily functions.

But that didn’t mean he didn’t need to calm himself enough to stop his balmy palms from sweating further at the reality of finally being allowed to actually touch you.

“I’ll be in your care then, Doctor Geto.”

You make a lighthearted joke with a nervous laugh to ease your own anticipation. However the joke has the opposite effect for Suguru and he snaps his head up as if you had activated something in him.

Suguru’s fiery expression sends shivers down your back. Although as quickly as it appeared it was gone again, replaced by his trademark comforting grin. Even so your fingers pressed a bit deeper into the wood beneath you, steadying your frazzling nerves.

“Well aren’t you a lucky one then, being my first patient ever. You’ll be a good little pussy and listen to me, won't you?”

Suguru is looking down again, speaking directly to your cunt who is tingling in response to his voice. It’s fucking lewd. But then again so is the studious scrutiny of Suguru’s eyes so single-mindedly transfixed to your cunt you wonder if his leer alone could dissolve the cheer panties right off of you.

You let go of the breath you didn’t realize you were holding once Suguru finally starts touching you.

But not your pussy just yet.

His long thick fingers are surprisingly cool on your skin as they press into your warmth, ghosting just above your knee on both sides.

Gentle strokes travel down along your inner thighs and up again to lightly tickle the backs of your legs. You tense and squirm beneath him when your eyes meet Suguru’s own.

“Sugu–”

“Patience, Bunny. It’s no wonder you never cum if you’re so used to diving right in. You need to relax first. This won’t happen if you aren’t relaxed, can you try to do that for me?”

You nodded back at him, yet the goosebumps left in the wake of Suguru’s soft caresses had you trembling. So used to rushed thrusts and hurried grasps, you don’t know how to just take it in the moment.

You had never been touched this delicately before.

Already oversensitive, if anything you felt like the one who was the virgin in this situation.

If Suguru notices, he says nothing. His touches are progressively firmer, the light pets morphing into soft squeezes and circular strokes of the hand once he traverses closer to your core.

“You know Bunny, the inner thigh area is an erogenous zone? Can you say that, Y/N? Ero-gen-ous?

Suguru pronounces the word out for you as his heavy muscular hands make their way to the crease of your inner thighs, his hands once more perilously close to your pussy as he pauses looking up at you again expectantly.

“Say it, Y/N.”

Your cunt clenches at his command and it leaves you stuttering. Heat blossoms across your cheeks from how needy you sound choking out the word.

“Er-Ero-gennn-ous.”

Suguru rewards you by moving his hands again but to your dismay they pass your core to dig into your hips, his thumbs swirling over your hip bones. He leans his body in closer to you and you break eye contact to turn your head away lest you really start falling apart in his hands.

“Good girl. Ya know, you’re quite bright with the right motivation, Bunny.”

Puffs of moist heat glide over the tip of your ear as his lips are only millimeters away from your skin. His words stimulate a deep in your gut reaching all the way down to your toes, trying to resist how much he’s affecting you.

Suguru chuckles at your bashfulness.

“Are you always this shy, Bunny? Or does that honor just belong to me?”

You whimpered. You aren’t sure how you got here.

How was Suguru, a nerdy virgin, making you come undone like this? You didn’t know where the darkness that crept up on the edges of his eyes was coming from either, yet you squirm in anticipation despite yourself.

You loved it.

Always a know-it-all, so you would hate to admit it outloud, but Suguru was already making you feel more excitement than any frat boy you had been with. Lack of hands-on experience be damned. You’re losing it as his lips sensually flutter against your collarbone.

“Y-you s-said only fingers, S-Sugu!”

Your voice lacks any real reprimand as you are arching up into his touches and quivering for more. Suguru obliges as he alternates between delicate nips and open mouth kisses sinfully marking you. Groaning into the crook of your neck Suguru savors the lingering taste of your perfume and the natural saltiness of your skin.

Returning his attention back to your ear Suguru’s breath trails over your skin until your lobe is once again trapped between his moist lips. He lightly tugs it between his teeth before giving it a sharp bite.

“AHH!”

The sting sends a jolt of electricity shooting straight into your cunt and a strangled noise escapes your lips. Your knees are starting to buckle but Suguru’s quick reflexes stopped your legs from clamping together all the way, bracing you.

Taking your hands and leading them to the backs of your thighs, Suguru is making you steady yourself back into a spread position for him and gives you strict instructions not to move.

“Good girl… This should be more than obvious now Bunny, but there are erogenous zones all over your body that connect to the pleasure nerve endings here.”

Suguru’s voice is silky as his index finger tows long strokes over the slit of your clothed cunt and applies pressure on your clit for emphasis. Whines fumble out of you when Suguru switches from steady swipes to idle flicks with pads of his fingers and your legs twitch again once more.

“It's important to simulate multiple areas simultaneously and I only have two hands, don’t I? You don’t mind Y/N do you?”

You still can’t bear to look Suguru in the eyes, much less respond vocally so you just shake your head.

“Feeling good, Bunny? Which do you like better, the strokes or the flicks?”

Your eyes squeeze shut from Suguru demonstrating both over your covered cunt. You try not to tear up but the amount of autonomy you had in this situation was new to you. Embarrassed and vulnerable you’re realizing that in spite of all your sexual experiences you still don’t feel comfortable expressing your needs.

“Hey, Y/N–”

Suguru clutches your face in his massive grip, squishing both your cheeks with a single hand and forcing your glassy eyes back on him. It was hard to focus on what he was saying anyway while you cooed from the feather-like circles he had been drawing on your clit.

“–you have to talk to me. This and sex in general, is just another form of communication. It won't work well and you definitely won’t squirt unless you can express to your partner what feels good and what doesn’t.”

You are sure he can feel the heat gathering in your cheeks radiating off your skin.

“Stop t-teasing S-Sugu… I-I know you can tell it’s good.”

Suguru eases his hold on you, his smirk deepening at your complaint.

“Oh I can, tell Bunny. Believe me. Your pussy, she’s so sensitive no matter how much you try to hide it from me. But I still need to hear it from your mouth regardless.”

The hand playing with your cunt splays out and Suguru fully cups you in his hands. The pulsing of your clit vibrates against his palm even through your panties.

“If you’re going to be a slut Bunny, at least be a vocal one. Be a slut for your own pleasure...this fat n’pretty cunt of yours deserves it.”

Suguru’s mouth is mere millimeters above yours, floating suspended both your lips are parted as you’re sharing the same air. The dizzying effect of breathing him in only intensifies with his words.

“Or perhaps you just get off on the idea of being free use?”

Suguru chuckles but doesn’t make you answer that question in favor of pulling back from you to inspect the large wet spot you soaked through your cheer panties from all of his taunting.

Pleased he gives your clothed pussy a smack, the moisture underneath the flimsy fabric evident in the soft squelchy sound that fills the room.

Smack, another moist sound echoes from your cunt.

“Oh, looks like she’s ready. This mouth down here is so much more talkative, Bunny.”

Hooking his fingers in the fabric Suguru peels your soaked cheer panties to the side, whistling at the thick strings of your essence that lingered between your cunt and your panties.

“So fucking wet, the prettiest most obedient lil’ pussy, aren’t you?”

A fleeting thought of sassing Suguru since yours is the first real pussy he has actually even seen up close dissipates as soon as your entrance flutters against his two thick fingers that rub over your uncovered opening.

Involuntary bucking your hips, the burning urge to feel him inside you is all you care about now, pride be damned.

You want him.

“Sugu–”

“–Shhh!”

Suguru cuts your pleas short.

“Don’t interrupt Doctor Geto when he’s speaking with his favorite patient, Bunny… Your nasty lil’ cunt is really begging for her treatment, isn’t she?”

You pout at him, quieting down while Suguru rewards your submission by slipping into your folds once more, entering fully past your entrance and into your gummy walls. It’s only a single digit inside you but your pussy is hungrily sucking him in deeper, trying to devour his middle finger whole.

Suguru murmurs intelligible obscenities from how warm and tight you are. He needs to find that spot.

Your hands struggle to keep your legs from quaking when you feel his finger, longer, thicker and far more pointed than your own, bottom out before languidly dragging delicious pressure back through you, exploring your walls in search of–

“Found her.”

Your ass jerks up and nearly off the desk entirely when his finger roughly prods into the firm spongy spot within your cunt you didn’t even know existed until now.

“FAH-FAH-FUHHCKKKKKKKKK–”

Your voice cracks and your vision blurs with tears that finally are cascading down your face smudging your mascara. Your reaction has you missing the wide-eyed look of amazement Suguru gives you utterly entranced by the way your entire body quivered from just a solid tap to the gland.

Suguru had expected an intense reaction. He’d seen and read about how temporary control of muscles and spasms were common when abusing this spot in women. But the one thing textbooks, articles, nor porn could prepare him for was how fucking sexy you’d be while he was doing it.

The ache in his pants has him groaning as he has to lean nearly his entire weight into you in order to get your lower half to settle back down on the desk. Pausing his movements inside of you, Suguru allows you to catch your breath.

Still the heavy pad of his finger is weighing down on you with enough force you still need to suck in your breaths, barely able to squeak out words.

“W-Wh-What is th-that S-Suguuu?!”

Suguru tells you not to worry about the actual name. It’s not very sexy, so you won’t remember it and it’s important that you do, so eventually he tells you to just call it the g-spot.

You groan at the loss of pressure on your g-spot when Suguru removes himself from you entirely in order to bring the finger that had been inside you to his lips. Watching him savoring the essence of your sweet cunt on his tongue, you couldn’t take any longer, finding your voice.

“Su-Surugu, N-Need–N-need more. P—please!”

Suguru obliges, slapping the fat of your ass teetering off the desk and lifts you as his knee slides under your hip. Leaning into you further, Suguru throws one of your shapely legs over his shoulder.

“Oh, you found your voice Bunny? Then tell me what my patient wants. Where does Doctor Geto need to touch you?”

“M-my pussy– fuck– p-please Sugu, wanna feel good there. She’ll be so good for you!”

Suguru’s pleased smile is your only warning before two of his large fingers plunge-in and bottom out inside your cunt, knocking against your cervix. Your jaw completely slacks as you groan at the sudden intrusion, allowing Suguru the perfect invitation to your mouth.

Wasting no time, Suguru crashes his lips into yours. The kiss is sloppy, hot and needy as any cries that attempted to leave you were drowned out in the wet cavern of Suguru’s mouth.

Fuck, you’re greedy as hell.

The kiss makes Suguru’s head spin and he loses himself in your sinful hunger as you wrap your arms around his neck and begin to dominate the kiss, sucking on his tongue. Soon Suguru finds himself groaning against your lips and slowly rocking his cock into the back of your thigh. Fuck, your body was too responsive, too eager for him to slut you out on his fingers.

Suguru couldn’t lose sight of the goal though, you needed to squirt so he needed to take back control.

Catching you off guard, he bullies a third finger– his ring finger, into your cunt as well. Breathless you break the kiss, your eyes sinking back into your head as you meet the thrusts of his fingers with the roll of your hips.

You aren’t able to control the way your body convulses as you writhe against Suguru. His massive body weighed over you as his hair fell in front of his face, hiding his crazed expression from you.

Suguru is also panting as he vigorously pumps the appendages into you. In and out, swirling them Suguru’s fingers take special care to zigzag sweet torment over your g-spot.

You’ve only felt the slight ghostings of this feeling before, nothing so pointed and focused on attacking this spot, while stretching your pussy so well in the process. You want– no need, to feel Suguru’s cock inside you next.

You could tell he must be huge. Heat was radiating off his girthy bulge as it twitched up against your ass cheek even through Suguru’s joggers. The thought causes the hot iron coil in your stomach to tense to its breaking point, begging for release.

Suguru notices.

“A-Are you gonna squirt for me, Y/N?”

For the first time his own voice is ragged, set on keeping his promise to you.

“S-Sugu, I-I– I want to but I–”

Your words catch in your throat as tears that are salty to the taste freely flow past your lips down your chin. You are unsure of what exactly to beg Suguru for even if you could do more than unintelligible babbles at the moment.

It’s coming– you panic— this feeling!

“W-w-ait! Nooo, S–Su–Sugu… I’m g-gonna pee. S-stop, p-puhleaseee!

Your hands slip against Suguru’s shoulders as you try in vain to push him away. So fearful that Suguru was wrong and you may actually piss all over him and his desk.

Suguru isn’t having it though, backhanding your clit with a harsh smack, his knuckle bullying into your bud.

The slap was followed by two more in quick succession, his other hand never slowing inside of you. Disregarding your pleas Suguru ventures even deeper into your guts while pressing down on your lower belly.

“I told you it’s not pee, Bunny. You don’t listen very well, do you?”

Suguru hiss at you, the stress of holding himself back as you fall apart on his fingers was nearly too much, he needed you to lay back, be good for him and take it.

“I-I’m s-sowy, Dr. Geto but– I– wanna–.”

You sniffle back more tears, which has Suguru calming himself in order to soothe you again.

“Shh Bunny, it’s okay– now ask your doctor nicely for what you need. Go on.”

At this point cuming, squirting, whatever Suguru you requires of you in order to release the feral sensations building within you is an essential need to live as much as taking your next breath.

“Doctor Geto, please let me cum! Sugu please! G-gonna s-squirt, gonna squirt s-so g-good for you!!”

“That’s right baby you will… Now squirt on me Bunny, make a pretty mess all over my fucking fingers.”

Timing a particularly hard jolt to your g-spot with simultaneous pressure from over your belly, has you tipping over the edge. Back arching you feel the gratifying release as you squirt hard, fluids spurting all over Suguru’s fingers and spilling down his forearms. The saccharine pleasure of it all is buzzing throughout every cell in your body as your eyes flutter back into your skull.

Your entire body feels like an extension of your pussy, pulsing in tune with your cunt and you don’t realize you are even screaming until Suguru’s mouth is on top of yours once again.

Suguru is tongue fucking your wails all the way back into the depths of your throat until they are mere raspy gurgles.

Riding out your orgasm you protest with choked cries as Suguru's hand abruptly leaves your cunt. Yet before you can process what’s happening you’re mewling loudly again once you feel his lips attacking your cunt. Sucking your clit between his lips, his own groans vibrate into your core making you all the more sensitive.

Your hands fly to him again, tangling up in his long raven locks and trying to push his head away.

Too much! You were far too sensitive right now for him to be lapping at your over stimmed cunt like a mad man.

“Stawwp–”

Your slurs fall on deaf ears as Suguru continues, only pulling back briefly to shush you.

“Haven’t got it all out. This pretty pussy is so fucking nasty she can give a little more, can’t you baby? I know she can.”

Suguru is speaking to you but he sounds a million miles away, focused only on your cunt as he returns to suckling on your clit, his teeth scraping lightly. He knows your pussy will give him the answer he is looking for soon enough.

The iron grip his arms have around your thighs holds you down allowing Suguru unimpeded access to dribble globs of his spit into your folds. His tongue flattens over your clit and his eyes smolder into yours before diving back into your pussy.

So close to cumming yet again your thick thighs clench around him as you unintentionally smother his face deeper into your core. Suguru ignores any need to take breaths, your cunt being the only sustenance needed as he rams his tongue further into your convulsing hole.

Shaking his head around sloppily, Suguru is goading your cunt into giving him more and more. His tongue is a mere worshiper in the temple between your thighs, begging your leaking pussy to give him the last morsels of your squirt.

Not having the willpower to deny him, your pussy gushes out more onto his tongue and shamelessly he swallows all of it as you cum all over again.

By the time Suguru detaches himself from your cunt he looks almost as wrecked as you: hair is matting to the sides of his face, his glasses are clouded with slick and your juices are dripping down his chin.

Although, now that Suguru has had a taste of you he is left craving more. Not letting a single drop of your juices go to waste Suguru is ferally slurping the drippings off your thighs and lowering his head to even zamboni the overflow of your essence off the desk beneath you. Ravenous with thirst for you Suguru is even using his mouth to squeeze out any droplets he could retrieve from your soaked cheer panties.

You on the other hand could only heave as you gasped for breath. Your legs are still twitching in the after shock of your intense orgasm and squirt session. Dizzy and dazed you feel yourself fading out, unsure of how much time has passed or what Suguru was still doing between your legs until the familiar ring of your phone slowly guides you back into the present.

Wiping his face with the back of his hand Suguru stands up and pulls your phone out of his pocket.

The phone is still ringing as he looks down at it and snickers.

“It’s Toru, Y/N. Answer it.”

You give Suguru a frowny pout. You were barely conscious right now, you couldn't handle a drunkenly energetic Satoru.

Seeing you making no attempts to move, Suguru answers it for you and Satoru’s voice overflows through the speakerphone.

“Y/N! Y/N! Where are ya at!? We need the beer pong queen to make her appearance, I need a partner! Nanamin is too good to beat without you!”

Suguru held the phone out to you but you could respond in labored puffs.

“Y/N is taking a study break, a bit tired after her lesson.”

“–Oh it's you Suguru!”

You end up tuning Satoru out as he’s begging Suguru to come to the party with you which you already knew wasn’t going to happen even if he didn’t just make you squirt all over him.

Willing yourself to sit up, your body is immediately revitalized when your eye is drawn to how bricked Suguru currently is in his dark gray sweats.

Suguru arches his brow in amusement as you pull him forward by the band of his joggers. You hurriedly fumble to untie them, pushing them and his boxers down to reveal his hard cock.

The sight of it nearly has you squeeing.

You practically have hearts in your eyes as you gawk at Suguru’s cock, it’s the prettiest you’ve ever seen. The way his girth swayed in front of you as pre marbles on the tip has you openly salivating. To say his length and thickness is above average, was a massive understatement.

You can’t estimate a size but you know he is huge as you eye the a large vein on the underside of his cock that seemed to weigh him down even though fully erect. You squirmed at the thought of that vein scraping inside your pussy as Suguru pounded you.

You need to feel it. Now.

Nevertheless, it isn’t until Suguru snaps his fingers in front of your face did you realize Gojo was now addressing you again through the phone.

“Y/N! You there?! I failed with Sugu! He’s lame! But you’ll be here soon right???”

A sharp contrast to just 30 mins earlier but partying was the last thing on your mind now. You needed to get Satoru off the phone and Suguru’s cock inside you expeditiously.

“Mhm-nh, Toru sorry, I–I really need to get a good grade. I need Sugu to tutor me a bit more. C-Can’t afford to flunk out!”

Although you had teased Suguru earlier about popping his cherry, you didn’t care if he was a virgin now. He had more than proved himself despite his lack of hands-on sexual experience.

You weren’t really paying attention to Satoru any longer as Suguru motions for you to lay back again. Readily, you get in position returning your legs to a stirrup pose.

Suguru rewards your obedience with his cock slapping against your clit.

“Mmmm…FUHH-CK-AH!”

You don’t care that Satoru is still on the line as Suguru is slipping his cock under your cheer panties, rubbing his fat tip along your folds. His cock sandwiched between your messy cunt and the soaked fabric has Suguru groaning at the crazy sensation, he could bust like this for sure.

“Huh? Oh.. OHHHHHH! Haha, I see, I see! Suguru’s lessons are the best, aren’t they Y/N?”

You’re openly moaning now. Barely registering Toru’s words as Suguru grunts, increasing the pace he’s bullying his cockhead across your clit.

“Y-yeah, the besssst-ahhh!”

Satoru, feeling more than a bit left out, starts pouting over the phone.

“Hey, no fair playing with Bunny without me Sugu! Let me join ne–”

Suguru abruptly cuts Satoru’s complaints short, hanging up on him while still rutting his tip over your pussy. His pre leaking out in globs and mixing with your own cum still dripping from you.

He wanted you all to himself, for now at least.

Satoru could fuck off.

“Gawwd Sugu–just fuck m–”

You abruptly stop as your face falls in realization when you feel his warm cum pour over your mound and into your cheer panties.

Suguru is spilling so much of his thick load into you it's even coming out the sides of your cheer panties and running down into the crack of your ass. A few more jerks of his cock through your folds and he is quickly pulling back to tuck his softening length back into his sweats.

“N-no,no no no S-Sugu! Suguru! I-t’s okay you came fast but please— fuck me. I’ll even let you raw me and cum inside puhleaseeee Sugu– need to squirt again all over your cock!”

You don’t know the kind of willpower it takes Suguru to refuse you.

Probably one of the hardest things he’s done in his life, especially as fresh tears trickle from your eyes and he knows you’d be crying just as adorably on his cock. You were too sexy, too perfect and he wanted to fuck you just as badly as he knew you wanted him to.

BUT– more importantly he wanted to enjoy you more than for a quick fuck and if he indulged you now, he couldn’t promise he wouldn’t be relentlessly tearing up your sweet slutty pussy all night.

If you didn’t start studying for real you were definitely going to get kicked out of school and he can’t have that, especially not now after this.

Masking his own lust with a stern instructor voice Suguru chastises you as he ties his hair back onto a bun and begins to give his glasses a proper cleaning before adjusting the books and papers on his desks around you back into their correct piles.

“Absolutely out of the question. Now be a good girl and pull up your panties, Y/N. We have a lot of ground to cover tonight.”

Sticky with Suguru’s cum, frustrated and still horny you groaned loudly but obeyed. You knew Suguru meant business.

You hoped if you listened to him well enough you’d get what you wanted by the end of the night. It would suck for you to suffer through studying but it was the best motivation you had in literal years.

Unfortunately for you, Suguru, focused on the bigger picture, had a larger goal in mind.

“Only smart sluts get dick, Bunny. You’d better get an A on that exam Monday if you really want this cock.”

a/n: I would be willing to write a part 2 (some time in the future) of y/n popping Sugu cherry or even y/n getting double teamed by 'The Boom Bros' as a 'thank you' for taking the fall for them if there was interest. I'm kind of fond of this little college AU.

Reblog for an anatomy lesson from Nerd!Geto but likes and comments are also appreciated as always!

NEXT is back to my own ficcys! Upcoming: The Nursery - Yakuza!Toji x Y/N - teaser/taglist: ╰┈➤here. Delays cause I've been without my adhd meds and getting the first part of the fic beta'd for once but I FINALLY got them today and was able to finish this fic so hopefully I can get back on track! send me good vibes y'all!

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exhaslo · 5 months

Note

Hi love! How are you? I’m so in love with your writing and I wanted to see if you could write something for me? 🥺 (only if your requests are open.)

I was wondering if you could write a Sugar daddy!Miguel? The reader is working at little club and notices her one night working, running all over the place serving drinks to other drunk people. Miguel calls her over for a drink and talks to her for a bit. He tells her “someone as beautiful as you shouldn’t be working in a place like this?” And offers her to be his sugar baby, she’s surprised at his request but takes it. After he spoils her she realizes she starts to have feelings for him and he does too. 🫶🏻💗

Sure thing! This might be late from when you originally requested, but I finally got it done! Haha. I won't do too much of a age difference, since I'm not too comfortable with large age gaps, but hell, sugar daddies can be the same age too!

Right??

Warning: Fluff, language, teasing, fluff fluff and fluff

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

Another day, another dollar. That's how you tried to keep motivated. Did it work? No, but your bills sure did play a part in getting your ass off the bed. Being an adult sucked. Where you worked, also sucked; but were you going to quit...Not yet.

Although, you were desperate for something new.

You hated your job. Working at a stripe club, serving drinks to drunk and perverts. It wasn't your ideal choice, but it was the only place that was willing to give you a chance. You couldn't afford to go to college and your bills were too high to wait for anything else.

You had been told by your boss that you'd make more money as a stripper, but to hell with that. You knew the risks and quite frankly, you were afraid to dance half naked in front of so many men. Though, it didn't stop you from getting some tips here and there.

"Another round over here, sweet cheeks!" One of your regulars called out.

You let out a huff, pouring more beers into glasses. Before hitting the floor, you fixed your booty shorts once more and hurried to him. The drinks hit their mouths before you even put them on the table.

"Geez, trying to hit a record? At least let me get them on the table before inhaling them," You teased.

"Drinks from you are too good to not have, baby. I'll take it nice and slow next round if you get on that stage."

"Not even in your dreams, pal." You huffed, walking to the next table.

You hated this place. You hated the customers. Hell, sometimes you hated the pay. It was not enough for the shit you had to deal with on a daily bases.

"(Y/N), VIP guest is requesting you from bring them a popular drink. Doesn't care which one, he just wants you to deliver it. Don't fuck this up." Your shitty manager said over the radio.

"Great."

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

Miguel let out an obvious sigh, signaling to his brother that he was not happy to be there. He would groan and grunt, but unfortunally Gabriel had gotten used to those noises and somehow tuned Miguel off. Honestly, it was a talent.

Since Miguel was forced to come to the club, he might as well have made the best of it. Miguel grabbed the VIP room and made himself comfortable. His sunglasses making him the center of attention sure did help with keeping Miguel seated in his seat.

He watched the crowds of men cheer towards the strippers, begging for more and throwing their money. Miguel exhaled softly, looking at his private stage. There was no need for him to be here. He should be outside, stopping crime.

"Miggy! Stop being such a brood and have fun!" Gabriel huffed, poking his head into the room. Miguel shrugged,

"I am having fun. See? I'm here."

"Such a bore."

Miguel rolled his eyes towards his brother. He hummed lowly, watching the people in the club. He furrowed his brows, spotting you run around with a scowl on your face. He couldn't help but smile. To think there was someone else in here who was just as unhappy as him.

Miguel pondered to himself. He had been wanting to do something risky lately. That and he was touch starved. Perhaps he could save someone tonight, but in a different matter. Hell, it could be fun too.

Requesting for you, Miguel leaned back in his seat and waited. With his heighten senses, Miguel resisted a chuckle as he heard you cuss under your breathe. By the time you arrived, you had a obvious fake smile against your lips and a tall, colorful drink in your hand,

"Hello! You requested me?" You asked sweetly. Miguel raised a brow as he took a sip of his drink,

"Couldn't help but noticed you working too hard out there," He said smoothly and motioned to the seat across from here, "Your boss can't see us from here. Take a break."

"Ha, you trying to get me fired?"

"Perhaps, if you're willing to listen and take my offer," Miguel said, continuing to force the sweet drink down his throat.

Miguel watched you hesitate before taking a seat. Your clothes were obviously too tight for you.

"So, what's your offer?"

"It's obvious that you're too good and beautiful for this job. So, hear this bored man out," Miguel tried to get you to smile, "I have too much money and not enough to spend it on. Would you allow me to waste it on you?"

"Huh? Like...Have you as my sugar daddy?" You questioned, observing him, "You only look a few years older than me. How can you be that rich?"

"Plenty of ways. I won't have you do anything you don't want. Just a date here or there, and in return you can spend as much money as possible on whatever you want."

"So....just a date in return?" You hesitated and glanced at the club, "I am being punked right?"

"Why would I lie?"

You glanced at the club once more, honestly considering the man's offer. You were desperate and what was the harm in just playing along for a date or two? If you can pay off your bills and get enough money, you could run away if things got too scary.

"Deal, I'm (Y/N)"

"Miguel."

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

Part of you still doubted Miguel and his offer. Even as you quit on the spot and held his card in your hand, you still doubted it. It was only until you officially paid off a bill and was asked on a date that it hit you. This was real. You nabbed yourself a Sugar Daddy.

And a hot one at that.

Honestly, you weren't too disappointed with your situation. Miguel was really kind to you and didn't ask for much. Your first few dates were honestly some of the best you've ever had. The most you did was hold hands and a small peck on the cheek here and there. It was sweet and simple.

You really only used his money to pay off your bills and do some small groceries here and there. Honestly, you were more into having another date with Miguel. He actually listened to you and took care of you. Something that made your heart flutter.

"Hey, Miguel, want to come over to my place tonight? I'll make dinner." You asked him over the phone.

"Are you sure?"

"Of course. I want you to come over," You said with a smile as you cleaned your apartment, "I want you to try my cooking for once."

"Then I'll be there."

---------

Miguel was honestly surprised by your request. He was new to this whole Sugar Daddy business and was enjoying it for what it was. Your little dates gave him energy after a long day of Alchemax and the Spider Society.

Your little touches made him want more. Honestly, Miguel was having a hard time holding back. He was enjoying this too much and wanted more from you, but that was not part of the deal. Miguel didn't want to push you away.

Swinging around the city, Miguel tried to think of ways to approach you in the matter. He wanted to kiss you. He wanted to tell you that he liked you, but what if you didn't? Miguel only approached you because of how beautiful you were and how much you looked like you needed a break.

This wasn't part of the deal.

"But please say yes."

----------

You could feel the sweat on your palms as you finished prepping dinner. You even wore a sexy dress to get Miguel's attention. Hearing your door bell, you hurried over and let Miguel inside. You greeted Miguel and pecked his cheek, hiding your blush.

"Um, don't mind the mess." You motioned him inside. Miguel tried his best to keep his hands to himself,

"It looks fine. You on the other hand, beautiful." He hummed. You hurried to the table, placing the plate before him, "Smells amazing. You truly didn't have too."

"Like I said...I wanted too." You sat beside Miguel, watching his reaction, "I can only thank you for much. I want to show more of my appreciation."

"You don't have too, baby," Miguel rubbed your head, "I chose to take care of you."

"And if...I want more?"

"Money?"

"No!" You nearly yelled and inhaled deeply, "Sorry, I didn't mean to raise my voice, but I'm not that greedy. I was wondering if maybe, I can give you more....affection."

"I don't want to force you to-"

"I want too!" You told Miguel, grabbing his hand, "Miguel, we've been in this relationship for about two months now. You've done so much for me and honestly...I really, really like you. I want to be with you and kiss you and-"

Miguel was the one to interrupted you this time as he pulled you into a kiss. Both of his hands cupped your cheeks, holding you in place. He could feel shivers run down his spine as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

This was what he needed. What he wanted. Thank whatever God listened, but Miguel was grateful that you shared his feelings in return. Breaking the kiss, Miguel stroked your lips and hummed in response,

"You are such a good girl for me," He whispered. You rested your forehead against his,

"You know, I never mentioned how much of a turn on that is whenever you say it."

You couldn't help but laugh as Miguel immediately grew flustered. He nudged his side and signaled towards his plate. Miguel cleared his throat and finished his meal alongside you. Once the two of you were done, you both decided to watch a movie.

More like make out on the couch.

Your Sugar Daddy soon turned into your 'Daddy' really quick. You now had new bills to worry about, aka pain killers and muscle relaxers because Miguel was a beast in bed.

But hell, it was worth quitting your job for him.

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

Waaaaaah, I hope you liked it!!!!

@tojishugetiddies

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel spiderverse #spiderman 2099 #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel spiderman #atsv miguel #across the spiderverse #miguel x you #miguel x y/n

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whatthefishh · 10 months

Note

I’m so ashamed to be requesting this… but I’ve been looking everywhere for a shower smut with Miguel O’Hara and I feel like I can trust you not to let me down😩😩😭 if you can, ONLY if you can I don’t wanna be a bother.

Hey, no need to be ashamed haha! That’s so sweet of you, thank you for trusting me with this 😉 and I hope this short blurb doesn’t let you down… I wrote this instead of focusing on my assignment lol!

Miguel smut under the cut, 18+ only

Your muscles were aching, the hot water spraying down your back helping to release some of the tension there. You had a long day and couldn’t wait to get home for some down time, and a hot shower was the perfect start to your relaxing evening. You hear the bathroom door open and the blurry large shadow of Miguel in the doorway. You know it’s him just by his sheer size, nobody else you knew took up that much space.

“Mig, can you grab me a towel? I forgot!” You shout, turning to rinse the shampoo out of your hair.

“You always forget,” he grumbles lowly, thinking you can’t hear him but he’s closer now.

“Yeah, I know I know, can you just get me— no, no! You can’t just—!”

It was too late. Miguel had stripped his clothes in record time — or maybe he walked into the bathroom already naked — and joined you in the shower, his height effectively blocking the water from spraying on you as his broad frame took up most of the shower space.

“You got me all wet, nena,” he says looking down at you, slowly backing you against the tile wall behind you.

“I didn’t tell you to come inside…”

He sniffs out a laugh.

“Actually—“

“Shut up. Just shut up.”

Reaching a hand up to pull him by the neck down, down, down to meet your lips, your tongues collide hotly under the spray of hot water. Pretty soon, you’re a moaning mess under his skillful tongue and roaming hands, lost in the sensation of your lover’s touch.

Miguel lifts you against the tiles and you gasp into his mouth at the cool wall against your back while he groans at the feeling of his hard cock bobbing against your core. He’s rubbing himself against you, effectively making you drip for him while the water ran down his back.

Both of you were wet now.

Removing himself from your lips for a moment, he rests his forehead against yours to look into your eyes and smile, a rare one, a real one. You don’t see this one often.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Tan buena que eres conmigo,” Mig tells you quietly before lining up his fat tip with your entrance and slowly pushing forward, kissing you again when you start moaning at the intrusion.

It’s always a stretch, no matter how much he tries to prep you. Inch by thick inch, he bullies his way into your cunt, massaging your breasts and mouthing at them to distract you. The sound when his lips wrap around your slippery skin is sinful, popping off your peaks with a satisfied hum while your chest heaves from everything you’re feeling.

He’s everywhere, around you and inside you all at once. It’s overwhelming in the best way possible.

Once he bottoms out, he waits for your go ahead, a small nod while you rest your head against the cool tiles has him starting to pull out nefariously slow, intent on making you loose and pliant by the end of the session. Bucking his hips, he fills you again and again, pressing your body into the shower wall and grunting on every pass.

The water was already hot and the way he’s fucking you has you burning up, the coil tightening in your belly so much that you’re about to pass out. He notices your breath coming out shallower.

“Needed me to loosen you up, isn’t that right nena? Uh huh?”

You’re whining incoherently, eyes shut against the tiles as he plows into your pussy. You try to answer him but all that comes out are pathetic noises that you know only feed his ego.

“What was that, baby? You’re close, aren’t you, can feel you— ahhhhh!” He groans out loud when you finally gush around his girth, body shuddering in his arms.

Completely reliant on his strength to hold you up — the way you’re impaled on him also helping — you let go. Utterly and entirely, you let yourself go in his arms, trusting him to take care of you.

Gripping your ass as he holds you up, Miguel continues to fuck into your fluttering hole, bucking his hips untimely as he nears his own end after feeling yours. His growls and grunts are bordering on animalistic, the smooth golden planes of his body catching your eyes as you ride out his assault on your pussy. The way his biceps ripple when he flexes his hands holding you up, the way the vein in his neck throbs when he’s breathing heavily, the way his abs flutter when he’s close to cumming —

He’s absolutely stunning, and he’s all yours.

And he’s making you his, coming inside you and pressing his hips into yours, after essentially drilling you into the shower wall, he holds you there while groaning through his release.

The stress you were carrying was all gone, replaced with everything Miguel. You couldn’t wait to spend the rest of your evening with him.

S/o to my translator — @xbellaxcarolinax ❤️

#inbox 💌#miguel o’hara smut #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o’hara fanfiction #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara imagine #atsv smut #atsv fanfiction

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oxydiane · 1 year

Text

sns is so fucking unhinged and nobody will ever be them i’m sorry. you start the series and it’s like oh haha look at these goofy angsty rivals! they hate each other! then sasuke dies for naruto thirty chapters in giving up his dream of revenge and naruto goes batshit insane. now you’re like ah they’re friends i guess that’s cute! and sasuke is trying to kill naruto because he’s the most important person in his life which is . ok and it becomes the driving force of everything or something. sasuke leaves and naruto dedicates the rest of his life to bringing him back and you’re still a casual fan so ur like he’s doing it for the promise right? then orochimaru says sasuke is his and naruto goes batshit insane feral homicidal (again) and after that sasuke reappears and they have ??? like five different panels dedicated to them staring at each other??? and he jumps off a mountain and hugs naruto for some reasons just to whisper some gay shit in his ear kishimoto frankly needs to be jailed drawing this and keep that best friend nonsense going. anyways. you have sasuke become a convicted terrorist to which the normal people response is “ok we need to hunt him down” and when naruto learns they’re gonna hunt him down he starts screaming crying throwing up he has a panic attack he can’t breathe he’s falling in the snow he gets on his knees and begs them to spare his BFF. after having a meltdown over the thought of sasuke dying what may possibly be the natural coping mechanism any stable person would adapt? of course realising that if sasuke dies he can die too. so he sees sasuke again and after he attempts murdering sakura twice and expresses the intent to murder kakashi he’s like. i will bear the burden of your hatred and die with you hehe and if we both die you won’t be an uchiha and i won’t be the jinchuuriki to the nine tails and we’ll be able to understand each other better in a different lifetime! WE’LL MEET AGAIN IN THE AFTERLIFE BECAUSE NOT EVEN DEATH CAN DO US PART! and sasuke (just as insane as him) doesn’t even flinch he’s like what the fuck is wrong with you but then ok let’s fuckingggf die together on my god i will kill your first anyways . then they find out they are soulmates and get cute matching tattoos on their hands and decide to fight to the death once more because sasuke is back on his i will shoulder all the hatred of the world alone and i need to kill you because i love you more than anyone else in the world actually you’re the only person i love so you need to DIE and naruto is like I WILL NOT LET YOU SHOULDER THAT HATRED ALONE I WILL FREE YOU FROM THE PAIN and they fight and despite all the whatever weapons used in the war it’s a fuckinggg fistfight in which just as sasuke is about to inflict what he thinks is the last blow says “farewell… my one and only…………………. (very long pause to accentuate how heteronormative this next word is gonna be) FRIEND” and fucking stops using his sharingan because not even then he can record the image of naruto dying especially by his hand but naruto STOPS HIM LIKE A f cHAMP and they end up blowing each other’s arms off (rip the matchies) and as they’re bleeding to the fucking death sasuke is like you’re the only person that has never tried to severe their ties with me why do you go so far for me and naruto from the depths of comphet hell is like because you’re my FRIEND and sasuke being absolutely done with this bullshit is like ok what the fuck does that mean to you then and this is where it gets even gayer and relatable because naruto is like i don’t KNOW i just know that when you hurt i hurt and i just can’t take it and isn’t that the most gay experience thing ever? naruto knows what it feels like to have friends but what he feels for sasuke is so bone deep and unconventional that he cannot make sense of it and can only describe the pain it brings. after that sasuke CRIES LIKE THEYVE GOT ME SOOO FUCKED UP but you know what got me even more fucked up?

naruto waking up bloodied and battered and half alive with one arm missing but still wondering if that was heaven because sasuke was next to him. sasuke looking so happy and peaceful when saying “i lost” as a stark contrast to him looking and feeling like half of his body was being torn apart when he “won” against naruto in vote1 and left him. the bitterness of victory vs the sweetness of losing if you will. AND HIM COMPARING WHAT HE FEELS FOR NARUTO TO PRAYING MY GODD. did i forget to mention that then we learn that Ohhh it was never a stupid shallow rivalry as we all thought! they have actually been watching each other from afar since they were little freshly traumatised children and have longed to hold each other’s hands since then! what was it sasukeeee you felt warm and fuzzy when you saw naruto to thought of it as a weakness? these two are so astronomically hopelessly desperately obsessed in love with each other it’s ridiculous i’ve had ENOUGH free me from this mental prison

#soo talks #its 4 am #this is word vomit #ignore me #naruto #naruto shitpost #sns #narusasu #sasunaru #pro sns #naruto uzumaki #sasuke uchiha #thoughts

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moonlit-imagines · 4 months

Text

Headcanons for dating Wally West

Wally West x reader

warnings:

a/n: i was debating whether or not y/n is on the team or not n for this im going for y/n being a regular civilian but now im debating making dating hcs for a hero too 🤭

prompt: anonymous: “But if you're still taking requests (and speaking of fast haha), I would absolutely love if you could do a lil' something about Wally West ♡. I love that track star to bits and we're entering my favorite season ever : spooky season (or autumn for people who aren't chronically online like me). So if you'd be tempted to write some fluff/domestic stuff in autumn with Wally, I would be over the moon! 🦊”

wally is so annoying (in the best way!!)

you aren’t too used to the whole idea of dating a metahuman, every day is like an adventure

and for a speedster? you’d be surprised how hard it is for him to find the time

but he makes time

*doorbell rings*

“you’re twenty minutes late” -you

“in flash-time that’s early” -wally, holding a half-eaten box of chocolates “i got a little hungry”

on his “days off,” you could usually find the two of you on the couch with a variety of snacks scattered across the coffee table and crumbs peppering the cushions and floor

“the dog will get them” -wally

“hate to break it to you, but i don’t have a dog” -you

“should i get you a dog?” -wally

he was always so goofy

and affectionate, very affectionate!

he loved to give you cheek and forehead kisses, so many so fast

“how many was that?” -you after noticing repeated pressure on your cheeks

“going on a hundred. i’m trying to beat my record!” -wally

it always ended up tickling and you’d laugh until you fell over

“wally!! wally, come on!!” -you

you’d always get bummed whenever he got called for a mission

especially because it always happened in the middle of something (dinner, a movie, study date, etc.)

then when he came home he’d be a wreck and then you’d be a wreck because you’d see him like that

then he’d have to calm you down and you’d have to help him feel better

“you dont have to do that, im fine! i swear!” -wally while you panic and try to take care of him

being invited to the cave!

meeting the team!

“just because youre meeting a half-kryptonian clone, a martian, an atlantean, some girl with a bow and arrow, and batman’s sidekick doesn’t mean you get to think any of them are cooler than me, kapeesh?” -wally

“oh yes, i know you’re the coolest” -you

the team loves you!!!

“wow, wally, thanks for proving your s/o isn’t imaginary” -artemis

“youre welcome” -wally

“do you want to come bake with me?!” -m’gaan

“please say yes, y/n. i’m so hungry. so so hungry” -wally

“let’s do it!” -you

starting to camp out at the cave while wally is on missions

also once some more dangerous people figured out wally’s identity, you got your own access code to the cave. EMERGENCIES ONLY

you used it to surprise wally once and got a stern talking to from batman. never again

you dont really spend too much time with the team, but you get invited to most of their friendly outings!

and you talk up a storm with the others trying to learn about their lives, which sometimes makes wally a liiiittle jealous

but you want to live vicariously through these interesting people bc ur life is a liiiittle boring

“can you tell me what atlantis is like? what it feels like to be underwater and how your fighting style differs on land?” “what’s your favorite dish to make on mars? do you like communicating this way or the telepathic way more?” “why do you always wear sunglasses, man?” (you know this one dick is like wally’s bestie) -all you

seeing wally less than usual when things start to heat up in his hero life :(

causes some strain and you get so so sad :(

but he always calls you when he can and tries to make up for it

and somewhere down the road when he retires you’re able to spend all your time with him and he makes up for lost time like he promised

ok i’ll stop there. happily ever after.

taglist: @ravenmoore14 // @summersimmerus // @azazel-nyx // @simsrecs // @xoxobabydolls // @ravenstrueluv // @cicatraize // @captainshazamerica // @bad4amficideas // @evilcr0ne // @thedarkqueenofavalon // @elenavampire21 // @jade-178 //

#wally west imagine #wally west #wally west x reader #kid flash x reader #kid flash #kid flash imagine #young justice x reader #young justice #young justice imagine #dc comics #dc comics x reader #dc comics imagine

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circeyoru · 1 month

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IMREALLYSORRY BUT I CANT WITH MY DAYDREAMING SHI

I've been having a whole scenario in my head and I wanted to ACTUALLY read them from a fanfic

BUT ANYWAY OKAY OKAY SO😭

A oneshot where reader is like an empress of Hell, they're the one who rules all the overlords and owns said overlord's souls, ans also the founder of overlords, but their power is just right below Lucifer's and Lilith's

The timeline takes place right after the fight between Adam and the exorcists vs the Hotel

So like, the hotel is rebuilt! And Charlie has received a few actual customers that wanted to be redeemed

And Alastor feels like there's something going to happen that it's making him all tingly and nervous, and it did!

And then, reader like showed up, but under disguise (Charlie is like a niece figure to reader) but then again Charlie doesn't recognize them because they're in disguise for some purposes (I'll let you decide 🥰)

And Alastor, was completely shook, he WAS NOT EXPECTING READER AT ALL

Though he was QUICK to realize that reader was in disguise, so he just slightly scrambles to introduce himself even though he's hiding his excitement and nervousness

After all Alastor was eager to please his master, he also ended up dropping his radio vintage voice in the process

"Alastor, pleasure to be meeting you, *quite* the pleasure! What brings you to this fine establishment madame?" literally took their hand and kisses it

And reader is just like

"I may have been in need for a place to stay. But I heard Vox had cameras everywhere, and this was the only hotel I could have privacy"

Vox was an overlord ofcourse, he's also on Ravine's command, but Vox always had cameras stalking Ravine, which Vox calls it.. "keeping an eye for protection"

And since Alastor was the Radio Demon, every camera breaks of crashes if he was recorded, qnd it counts the hotel! That's why Ravine came to the hotel in the first place, and they explained Charlie that he didn't need to be redeemed, just a place to stay at the moment and Charlie wouldn't refuse someone in need. After all if Charlie refused Alastor will find a way to make her

it made Alastor slightly annoyed at Vox displeasing reader

But also boosted his ego and pride! Maybe once he saw Vox again he would rub it on Vox's face that reader came to him for a place to stay instead~

And after all that chatty yada yada or tour

Reader and Alastor finally had a real private talk at Alastor's radio tower! This part is a bit angsty but fluffy

They catch up and then Ravine brought up Alastor's wound in his chest caused by Adam, along with his mic/cane that he was not holding no more

Alastor tried to brush the topic off, feeling ashamed

But reader insisted. They ended up locating the wound exactly and placed a hand over it before Alastor could protest, and healed him

And Alastor didn't have a choice but to melt into the touch, his fluffy ears pulling back in the process

And maybe just reader teasing Alastor for his deer habits

Or an extra scene of Alastor stating that reader came to him and rubbed it on Vox's face

THAT'S ALL EVEN THOUGH ITS SO KUCH

ANYWAY TAKE YOUR TIME DRINK WATER AND EAT AND ILYSM

Let's try something~ Here's a spoil on the next story I have written~ Will be out in a few hours.

Now this is a newer request, but it was so unique (and the longest request I got I think) that it got me thinking, so I had to write it. Haha~

Collection of Overlords = Requested

[Alastor x Soul Owner of All Overlords!Reader] P.S. It's out now~

Other Works: MASTERLIST

#Circe's Nighty Writings #Circe's requested writings #alastor imagine #alastor x reader #alastor x y/n #alastor x you #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor headcanons #alastor fanfiction #alastor #hazbin hotel oneshots #hazbin hotel imagines #hazbin hotel fanfiction #Collection of Overlords

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beepboopkek · 4 months

Text

— I will always come to your aid (AFAB!Reader)

AMAB!Reader has also been posted! including: Jing Yuan cw: !!NSFW!!, afab!reader, grammar and spelling errors possible, pwp but barely, hinted that reader has a s1ze k1nk, f1ng3r1ng, reader is a little sarcastic, still spreading my Jing Yuan is a Bastard (affectionate) agenda, masturbat1on, getting caught masturbat1ng, d1rty talk, cum eat1ng, no use of y/n, reader can be interpreted as the trailblazer but they are NOT stelle/caelus, safe sane and consensual w/c: 2k a/n: people liked strip starchess so much so here is another one of my brainrots... i dont usually like this troupe that much but i find myself excusing anything and everything for jing yuan so here we are. for my male reader likers i got u, its being posted right after this so you guys can enjoy too :3. also just remember that this is NOT stelle/caelus, its the you haha, i dont like shipping the raccoons with anyone as a personal pref so im just making that clear :3. anyways same warning as last time this is like my third time writing smut and also english isnty my first language. enjoy!!

The crisis on the Xianzhou Luofu was mostly over.

Which meant you had to leave the man you had fallen head over heels in love with.

Well— love may be an exaggeration but you weren't fucking around when it came to him.

Jing Yuan.

Your eyes had been hooked onto him the second you two met, his pleasant smile, his calm demeanor, his body—fuck, everything about him enamored you.

You could only wish that there was some other universe where he reciprocated your feelings.

You departed with a respectful nod of the head, despite wanting to smoosh your face between his pecs and cry about never getting to see them again.

The only hope that you did have though, was the jade abacus he had gifted you and your companions.

“No matter how astronomically distant you are, The Luofu Cloud Knights will always come to the aid of the Crew, whatever your need may be.”

Of course, his next sentence was to not use it for trivial matters when he saw March’s reaction, much to your amusement.

There was a discussion on who should keep the jade abacus, March being ruled out first much to her annoyance.

It landed between you and Dan Heng and given his history with the Xianzhou Luofu, he handed it to you.

That's how you ended up here, standing in front of your locked door with the abacus in your hand.

What if you grip it— You need to rinse your brain with cold water at this point…

You flopped onto bed, letting the exhaustion of the day seep into your bones as the plush blanket and pillows surrounded you.

You threw the abacus to your side, you'll take care of it later, not like you're gonna need it right now anyway.

Your mind flooded with images of Jing Yuan, his voice and everything you had been through together.

Fuck.

Your hand drifted towards your pussy, already feeling some wetness gathering at the thought of what you were about to do.

— Touch yourself to the thought of the General of the Cloud Knights on the Xianzhou Luofu, one of the most powerful beings to ever exist in history.

You shook your doubts away, he's just Jing Yuan to you.

You took off your shorts in record speed, tossing your panties along with it.

You never really touched yourself that often so you tried to imagine your hand being his instead.

You rubbed your clit, gasping at the cold touch of your fingers on the warm flesh.

How would he touch you?

He'd take his time, surely. He's not one to rush things— He'd work you open slowly for his cock—fuck, you're sure it's in proportion with how goddamn large his body is.

You moaned as you inserted two fingers inside you. You wanted to imagine Jing Yuan doing it, really, But, you also wanted an orgasm quickly so you can sleep. So, you just decided to go with imagining his voice talking to you.

You pistoned your fingers in and out, curling them at the spot only you could reach with your much smaller hands.

It was too intense, the thought of his deep voice guiding you through was enough to get your orgasm to graze along the edges of your belly slowly, building up to be a strong one.

You grabbed the blanket next to you, gripping it tightly as you whispered Jing Yuan's name and continued thrusting your fingers inside you.

You swear the normal part of your brain recognised you gripping an object while gripping the blanket as well but you were genuinely too out of it to care in the slightest.

You're just about to orgasm when everything in your room rattles, as if there's an earthquake.

Which should be impossible considering you are literally on a massive train that travels through space.

You let go of the blanket and sit up in shock, looking around to see what happened.

…With your fingers still inside you.

“Followers of the Nameless, I am here to assist you, tell me about the situ— Oh.”

You blinked.

Jing Yuan blinked.

Oh. Fuck.

You scrambled, ripping your fingers out and slapping your lower half with a pillow.

“J-Jing Yuan I-”

You gulped, trying to calm your racing heart, you just got caught masturbating by your crush.

Life is going great.

Your cheeks and ears were beet red now, opening and closing your mouth as you tried to say something, anything to get you out of this situation.

Jing Yuan was just as surprised, if not astonished, by the scene that had unfolded in front of him.

He was finishing up some paperwork that Lady Fu had so kindly delivered to him in the Alchemy Commission when suddenly, the jade abacus he had clipped to his belt loop started vibrating.

Not one to panic, he quickly unhooked it and got it closer to his ear, so that he could hear what the Express were asking of.

What he didn't expect was to hear the voice of his crush, the one that he has acquired after decades of not entertaining any romantic relationships, whispering and calling out his name.

Okay, maybe now he should panic.

Without a second thought, Jing Yuan summoned his weapon and gripped the jade abacus back, signaling it to teleport him to your location.

Paperwork be damned he would rather lose a hundred years of his life if it mean you would be safe.

That landed him here, in front of a half-naked (and very surprised) you.

He dissolved his weapon into thin air and folded his arms against his chest.

“Well, this is a surprise.”

“Wow, you don't say.”

Jing Yuan raised an eyebrow at your tone.

“S-sorry, I don't know how you got here.”

An interesting turn of events.

“... Did you not call for me?”

“No, Why would I? Even if I did, how did you just…magically appear here?”

“Oh, dear.”

“What?”

“The jade abacus. I think you… I think you gripped it while you were…busy.”

He looked into your eyes and back down at the pillow that was barely covering your lower half.

“The jade aba—”

You cut yourself off, turning to your side to where you had thrown it, only to find the wretched object to be in the center of your crumpled blanket.

“Fuck.”

“Jing Yuan— I am so, so , so, sorry, I swear this was an honest mistake and I'll—”

Jing Yuan cut you off with the raise of his hand. “I forgive you.” “Really? Great let me j—”

“On one condition.” Of course there’s a catch. You sighed begrudgingly.

“What do you need help with?” “Quite the opposite, actually.” Your eyes widened but before you could let out your protests, Jing Yuan spoke up again. “You let me help you finish.” The gall of this man.You’re still going to take the chance that he doesn’t know what you were doing. “Finish what?”

You tried to sound innocent but your voice came out breathier than you wanted it to be. “Dont play coy now, you know exactly what I mean.” Your face burnt in embarrassment as you looked away. Jing Yuan dragged your desk chair and got it to the front of your bed before sitting down and making himself comfortable, propping one leg on the other and leaning back. “Go on, show me exactly what you were doing before I got here,hm?” “I can’t.” Jing Yuan paused, shit, had he misread the situation? Maybe he should—

“I can’t do it without you.” You had covered your red face at this point, way too embarrassed to look him in the eye while speaking. Jing Yuan just about lost it at that, abandoning all doubt and pouncing on you, grabbing your face to take you in a devouring kiss. He threw the pillow covering your bottom half in a random direction, quickly pecking you on the cheeks before pulling your hand over his. “Guide me.” You nodded shyly and pushed his hand towards your dripping pussy again. Fuck. His hands were just the way you imagined them. Warm and big, enough to hold your own two hands.

His hand (under your guidance and insistence) cupped your pussy and grinded the heel of his palm into your sensitive clit. “I’ve barely touched you, were you this wet while we were talking,hm? Did it turn you on to have me catch you in such an embarrassing state?” Jing Yuan whispered in your ear as he hovered over you and you thanked every aeon known for this opportunity because fuck, your imagination did not do any justice to how good the general was. Jing Yuan dipped the tip of his finger in your core, not entering but adding just enough stimulation for you to feel something there.

“Answer me.”

“No, I swear I didn’t, Jing Yuan, please—”

Jing Yuan smiled, he didn’t know you would be this easy to subdue.

He gently thrusted his finger inside, watching your face for any discomfort or resistance.

But, he was only met with your blissed out face, as you gasped in pleasure from his ministartions.

“Were you able to reach here?” He curled his finger upwards, hitting your sensitive spot just right.

You threw your hand over your mouth, pinching your mouth shut and praying, once again, to all the aeons you knew that the other passengers on the Express were dead asleep and couldn’t hear you. Granted, your room was the last in the carriage and had a decent amount of sound proofing but, you were still not risking it.

Your snapped out of your worries when Jing Yuan pushed in another finger alongside the one that was already in you.

“It looks like you’re getting distracted, maybe I’m not doing my job well enough?”

“N—Fuck, Its good, I’m sorry—Shit—”

Jing yuan simply kissed your head affectionately like he wasnt fingering you to hell and back right now and picked up the pace of his fingers.

Your hand was just gripping his wrist and you werent sure if it was to egg him to continue or get him to slow down and stop.

Maybe both.

Your head rolled back on the bed, exposing your bare neck to Jing Yuan as he immediately took the opportunity to cover your neck in kisses, Aeons be dammed. There's no way hes letting you walk out of this room unmarked and not carrying any proof of the evening you spent with him.

You gasped as your orgasm finally, finally overtook you. You shook in the general’s grasp as he continued thrusting his fingers in and out, drawing out the pleasure.

Taking his soaked fingers out, he popped them in his mouth, savouring the taste while you recovered from the intense bout of sensations you just went through.

You propped yourself up on your elbows again, looking at Jing Yuan owlishly as your head cleared from the horniness.

Jing Yuan only smiled at you before holding your head and kissing your forehead again before gathering you in his arms.

“Call me old fashioned or old but I do believe in the proper process of courting someone and,”

He looked into your eyes as he cupped your face in one palm and brushed the thumb along the seam of your chin.

“I think we skipped a few steps.”

“Yeah, no shit, general.”

He laughed at that, his chest shaking as the deep sound rumbled from his throat, you blushed again.

You were in the arms of the man you’ve wanted to kiss since you stepped foot on the Xianzhou ship.

You covered your burning face with your palms again as Jing Yuan’s laughter died down into little chuckles.

“We did all of that and youre getting shy now?”

“Shut up. You have no idea how much I’ve wanted this.”

“Wanted what? To get fingered by me?”

“No! — I mean that too, I guess, but I meant being held by you! Stop playing games, Jing Yuan.”

Jing Yuan only laughed as he took his free hand and grabbed your hands, turning them towards him one after the other and kissing the palm.

“I jest, I jest. But, I must stay here for the night. I’m afraid I cant travel back to the Xianzhou Luofu seeing as we aren’t closeby.”

You smiled.

Jing Yuan’s eyes twinkled in mischief right back at you.

“Be my guest.”

#jing yuan #jing yuan x reader #honkai star rail smut #honkai star rail x reader #jing yuan smut #jing yuan x you #afab reader

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most-normal-eccles-cake-ignorer · 8 months

Text

celestial surveillance + some garden of eden parallels

For there is nothing hidden that will not be disclosed, and nothing concealed that will not be known or brought out into the open. - Luke 8:17 (NIV)

Over and over, we see how the bookshop feels safe/private while simultaneously being sort of a fishbowl, leaving its inhabitants quite exposed to onlookers. *garden of eden vibes*

Similarly, Aziraphale and Crowley tried to conduct a class-A surreptitious 6000+ year agreement/slowburn romance and yet their 25 Lazarii relationship is fairly obvious to others.

Reminiscent of how Crowley is painfully aware that nothing is certain and time is horribly finite, Aziraphale lives with the knowledge that anything he does or says can be used against him—or much worse, used against Crowley or others our little guardian cares about. Unlike his emotional support demon, however, Aziraphale was afraid Before the Beginning, before The Fall.

While Upstairs aren't the only ones watching, they have the potential to be the most dangerous threat (emphasis on potential bc they have to take an interest and also maybe stumble into important clues): The heavenly office overlooks the entire world. Where Hell had to send Furfur to the theatre with a camera, Heaven's got Earth Observation Files they can pull up to see what someone was doing at any point in history—not even St. James Park can keep you anonymous in the face of thirty-seven classes of scriveners/recording angels!

Aziraphale may tend to underestimate danger in general because of his misplaced hope that Heaven is truly Good, but in the same way that he can be both clever and stupid, I think he trusts Heaven and fears it at the same time. Why else would he be so worried about breaking their rules even when he knows they are wrong?

Of course, Aziraphale is also a courageous little bastard with a deity-defying protective streak! Despite Heaven's indoctrination, we see him navigating all sorts of grey area as he learns to 'blur the edges'. But he knows it isn’t safe to do that openly. He keeps this more human side hidden and tries not to think too hard about why doing good is wrong in heavens eyes. (lol other people's aziraphale metas are my main food group rn)

At the end of S2, we see him leave A.Z. Garden & Co. after tasting the forbidden fruit large oat milk latte, armed with his naïve/misguided 'knowledge of Good and Evil'. (and perhaps he knows he can't 'let the sun can’t go down' on him in Soho lest the the Metatron mete out death instead of coffees?) When Adam and Eve left Eden, Aziraphale and Crowley observed from above. When the angel and demon leave their own garden, we get the sense that they are also being watched.

(also idk if this is anything but Adam facing off against the lion while Eve looks on in the bg seemed a bit like Crowley watching Aziraphale walk into danger w the Metatron. could be a good sign since the lion gets turned into salami)

There are hints at the end of S2 that the watching is getting a little a spicier (at least I think they are hints haha): the bookshop windows are still broken during the last part of E6, further decreasing privacy; the zombies used binoculars to watch A&C from the Dirty Donkey under cover of darkness in 1941 but the Metatron just looks across the road in the light of day. And then there's the whole 'hefty jigger of almond syrup'.

#im watching you wazowski always watching #also i'm just thinking jigger -> jiggery-pokery = trickery?? that's got to be on purpose right? *admiral ackbar voice* ITS A TRAP #good omens meta #good omens analysis #the metatron #a.z.fell & co.#the garden of eden #good omens #good omens 2 #good omens s2e6 #the final fifteen #aziraphale #crowley #lol this started as a paragraph in the GO:Lockdown Aziraphale draft but it was getting too big so here we are #i'll finish it eventually but i just like looking at everything everyone else is posting sm and i get distracted #a.z. fell and co.

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lvrcpid · 1 year

Text

young, dumb and broke - modern!au

includes : reader is gn! use of they/them pronouns. DAD TSU’TEY AGENDA!! most of the kids are 17 with lo’ak being 16 (i had to keep the age gap), i STRUGGLED writing for 14-15 year old freshman. sfw!!

high school with modern!avatar headcannons

lo’ak:

— rizz master

— only messes with tsireya though

— we love a loyal king don’t we ladies

— since y/n can drive, he’s constantly asking them for rides

— “PLEASE Y/N NETEYAM SAID NO-“

— “shut up and get in the car.”

— definitely on the basketball team

— points to tsireya and says “this one’s for you baby” AND MISSES 🤭

— he probably has good grades just is a big class clown. like no seriously his jokes are hilarious even the teachers laugh.

— speaking of teachers all of his teachers love him. he’s really respectful (THANK YOU JAKEY POOH!!)

— he’s so trifling

— def would go around quoting “GIRL WHERE YOU GOING- MMMMWAH!!!”

neteyam:

— tries to be mysterious but fails miserably

— probably one of the popular kids but he’s not a jerk about it

— FOOTBALL CAPTAIN. NO MORE CHITCHAT.

— def makes y/n wear his jersey at his games

— gets sad when you can’t come

— “what do you mean you’re busy 🥺”

— homeboy is SMART im talking straight A’s type smart.

— definitely plans on going D1

— has a smalllllllll (BIG) crush on y/n but he’s too punk to tell them

kiri :

— actually mysterious

— keeps to herself

— definitely has one friend group

— science is definitely her favorite topic

— hates hates HATES school lunch. she gives it away each time

— crystal necklaces all day

— def has a job and bought those expensive ass sony headphones

— her converse game is strong. i’m talking every single color for every single outfit

— hangs in the bathroom with her friends

— along with her brothers, her teachers love her

ao’nung:

— RIZZ MASTER.

— seriously his rizz with y/n makes them fold all the time.

— basketball captain anyone??

— probably drives to school

— C average in his classes , he’s just lazy

— “y/n are you coming to my game?”

— “WHAT DO YOU MEAN NETEYAM HAS A GAME- FUCK HIM-“

— as you can see he also gets upset when you can’t come to his games

— probably has a few fights on his record

— always messing with your hair in class

— you look at him like this 😡 while he’s over there like 😈

— always leaving campus to get food (he gets you some so it’s no biggie)

— brags to neteyam that you came to his practice

— “HAHA THEY CAME TO MINE AND NOT YOURS”

— also has a big crush on y/n and it’s obvious, you just choose to play dumb

tsireya :

— class president. argue with the wall.

— Y/N’S BEST FRIENDDDDD

— her brothers wingwoman fr

— probably is in a dance club after school

— tutors people in her free time (side hustle queen)

— probably also drives to school but just rides with her brother to save gas

— probably wears outfits inspired by clueless

— hands lo’ak his water bottle after practice

— she’s such a sweetheart

— she invites a girl who was alone at a table to sit with her and her friends

y/n:

— Y2K KING/QUEEN

— no literally your style is to die for

— definitely sleeping all the time but still manages to get good grades

— your dad is apart of the pta. along with tonowari and jake. PTA DADS!!

— you probably wear lots of bracelets.

— you give them away as your way of flirting

— (neteyam and ao’nung definitely have a few of them on their wrists)

— chilling with kiri and tsireya in the bathrooms

— going home and immediately going to sleep.

— probably getting written up a few times for walking out of class

— your parents weren’t happy about this :/

bonus!

tuk:

— our girl definitely rocks the newest light up sneakers

— “my mommy got me these” *stomps foot on the playground*

— gets her teachers gifts for holidays

— has a fruit by the foot for lunch all the time

— her lunch box is definitely all sparkling

— MONKEY BARS MASTER.

— probably went to the nurse a few times cause her pride got the best of her and she fell

— definitely not the type to fake sick. she loves seeing her friends

— she’s the leader of her friend group but she’s not mean (neteyam DUPE!!)

— neytiri could send her to school with her hair one way and itll come back looking a MESS.

— at least she had fun!!

TAGLIST: @zatarias-pandora

#avatar #avatar x reader #neteyam x reader #awotw #jake sully x reader #kiri x reader #loak x reader #neytiri x reader #sully family x reader #modern!avatar

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iikisa · 1 month

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part 1

so. this is part one of a red dragon!krs fic ive been building up… this first chapter doesnt really have much much interesting scenes as of right now, and I’d love love love the input from everyone on how to continue, ideas for characters, and if theres anything i should consider changing!! that doesnt mean that i’ll be changing everything according to commenters, but i’d value all opinions to help build this plot 🥲

I’ve already finished around 3 similar length chapters and recently got stuck, so think of these posts as drafts and final revisions will probably go officially on AO3. thanks everyone 🤪

———

Oh, Pitiful Dragon (1)

Ever since his birth, the child longed for death. If it could take away his pain and grant his freedom, he’d trade anything he had so scarce of already. And on a particularly horrible day— the day that terrible man decided he would rip out his heart and use it for evil— the little child met a god.

The God of Death.

He thought it was ironic, seeing how soon his own demise was due soon. But this God didn’t come to reap his death, rather it came to propose a deal.

And the red dragon would accept any deal to be free of this pitiful life.

Kim Roksoo awoke suddenly from his slumber. His vision was black and only began to adjust to his blurred version after continuous blinking. Why was it so dark? And how had he fallen asleep? He was just finishing Volume 5 of The Birth of a Hero series and now— wait, are those chains?!

His eyes blew open and his vision was finally adjusted to the pitch darkness that surrounded him. He tried to stand but winced when pain spiked all across his body. Only then did he realize just how badly injured he was. Why was he so weak? Had someone kidnapped and beat him to a pulp?! He was completely blinded by the inexplicable pain that he hadn’t realized something much more important. No— wait, pain is important! It’s definitely concerning! But… why was his whole body covered in crimson scales?

‘Oh geez, well isn’t this new.’

Shortly after he had that thought he passed out from exhaustion and shock.

When Kim Roksoo woke again, he was practically being strangled. He quickly gasped for air and focused in on his current situation. He was being held up tightly by a metal collar on his (very, very sore) neck by some strange man in front of him. His hair was a long, spiky mess of blond and didn’t look very well-maintained. But his eyes… they were bloodshot red and had a crazed glint to them.

‘Crazy bastard…!’

Roksoo’s breathing was beginning to strain more and more, and suddenly he felt something prick beneath his scales painfully. He looked down and saw a clear tube running from his body all the way through an open passageway not so far from him. His blood began flowing through it.

‘Blood— They’re.. taking my blood?’

His thoughts were becoming even more incoherent by the second but after securing the clear tube into the little red dragon, the crazed man dropped him to the floor.

“You’re blood is so pure and vibrant, it’s so beautiful.. just like the color of your scales! It will definitely aid our liege and his cause. Haha!”

All Roksoo could think of was how crazy this lunatic was. He was still heavily panting, because honestly when was he not at this point, but thankfully he hadn’t passed out again. Instead, he glared with all his being towards the crazy bastard standing above him. Unfortunately, it only seemed to excite the lunatic even more.

“Maybe I really should visit you more. That look in your eyes gives me chills!”

Mumbling to himself, the psycho soon left the room through the very passage his blood was being drawn towards, and Roksoo was left alone; unprotected and cold. He hated feeling this way. These people didn’t seem to want him alive for so long, considering his “luxury” treatment. He was going to miserably die at their hands sooner or later. And he was too weak to do anything about it.

His eyes suddenly flashed with memories— no, records— of his fight with the second unranked monster to plague Korea. Lee Soohyuk and Choi Jungsoo… he had let them die. It was his fault and he knew it. It was something he’d regret for the rest of his life. But… they had told him to keep living. To keep living for them. He couldn’t die. It didn’t matter how he got into this situation. He’d rather crawl in shit than die this pathetically. He’d survive his new predicament— this new life that’s been granted to him. He’d survive.

He’d definitely survive to smack these bastards in the back one day.

Roksoo had spent weeks in that dark hell. His blood continued to flow from his body to somewhere unknown, he was paid violent visits by that lunatic, and he got weaker and weaker because of it. But his will didn’t waver for a second. Whenever someone came in to check on him, he’d mark it in his mind every time. Soon enough, he learned their patterns and found openings. He finally had a plan to escape this hell, no matter how many holes there were.. it was a chance.

With his limited information, there was only so far he could get, but somewhere deep inside him, he knew he’d manage. So, he followed his instincts. The minute his opening came, he used all the strength he had gathered and focused.

‘Concentrate. Concentrate on that feeling you’ve been accumulating, Roksoo!’

Suddenly, Roksoo felt as if he’d achieved some sort of enlightenment like the ones described in murim stories. He felt an overwhelming warmth spread throughout his body and a rush of adrenaline pumped through his veins exponentially. This power… He didn’t know where it had suddenly manifested from, but he was sure now. He could get out of here using it. His mind and body began working beyond their limits, and eventually everything around him felt like it was moving at a snails pace.

‘Instant..?’

His second ability from his past life, Instant. Time would seize and he could move freely for a short while. With a heavy cost on his body of course.

‘But this… it’s similar to instant, but it’s not completely it. I think— No, I can definitely handle this much better than what I’ve been able to before in Korea.’

His new body must’ve integrated Instant into another power. And this new power was about to help him escape. A small smirk graced his torn and bloodied face. Perfect.

Shackles that were tying his limbs down shattered beneath the little dragon’s feet in the blink of an eye, and in a literal instant he was darting across the passage with his slashed and scarred limbs.

‘Keep going. I have to keep going and get out of here!’

He was sprinting through the corridors, and if anybody had looked his way all they would’ve seen was a long, red blur. A bright light was beginning to seep in between the cracks in the ceiling of the dark man-made cave he was confined in.

‘Screw the consequences, we’re blasting through!’

With incredible speed, Roksoo was right beneath the seeping cracks of light and expanded his unused wings for the first time. His wingspan barely fit within the wide corridor as he spread them out and up, blasting off from his spot on the ground and flying like a rocket towards the ceiling. He was making it out.

Just as he impacted and the dust and debris had shot up everywhere, he spotted a few individuals standing far off in the sunlight. The most notable was a red haired main of fairly tall stature completely frozen in place by Roksoo’s sudden escapade. He wore a strange white mask over his upper face, his eyes a bright red with hints of brown. The person looked far to similar to Roksoo. His prominent crimson red and his own piercing reddish-brown eyes. They would’ve looked entirely the same if it weren’t for Roksoo’s current form.

He only locked eyes with the man for a split second, and continued shooting up into the sky. He began to hear shouts and alarms blaring within his vicinity. He had been encaged in a mountain with a large encampment stealthily surrounding it. He’d remember this exact spot.

Massive fireballs and arrows began piercing the sky in an attempt to bring Roksoo down, but he clumsily maneuvered around each and just barely grazed a few on his crimson scales. Suddenly, a blinding white spear had crossed his vision. And before he knew it, another had pierced right through his wing, tearing it open a considerable amount. Roksoo stifled the cry of pain that threatened escaping his lips, and instead gritted his teeth and continued to fly towards any kind of safety. Anything other than here will be safe, he just needs to lose these bastards first. The adrenaline rush he had originally received numbed all the pain in his body, but he knew that wouldn’t last with his current levels. He had to make use of every last bit of this power that he had in him.

He flew over an ocean and kept flying as far away as he could. Eventually he reached the mainland. The forest underneath him was dark and vast, a perfect hiding spot. He glides over the tree-line and with his remaining strength he just barely managed a suitable landing right by a flowing river. His landing was a little on the rough side and he was still so sore, but… he had finally made it out. He was successful. Now, he could truly live a slacker life! Wait— he still needs to get back at the bastards who had tortured him in the first place. Ah.. he also needs to secure enough funds for his slacker life as well.

Sigh.

Roksoo had much to do before he got to live a peaceful life.

‘But first, let’s just lay here a little while longer…’

Roksoo succumbed to his exhaustion and pain, entering a deep slumber.

———

THANKS FOR READING to the end !! please let me know ur input, things i could change, add, etc, i lack a lot in this field and value ur feedback ! 😋

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sinner-sunflower · 1 month

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A HH Lucifer-centric AU 21/?

PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 4, PART 5, PART 6, PART 7, PART 8, PART 9, PART 10, PART 11, PART 12, PART 13, PART 14, PART 15, PART 16, PART 17, PART 18, PART 19, PART 20, PART 22

Enjoy!

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

When Lucifer awoke again, Alastor was no longer there. He shifts to find Marigolds all over his bed with a note.

'To keep you from missing me, my lonely King. - Alastor'

Lucifer lets out a chuckle, picking up a Marigold to smell. He doesn't remember falling asleep but it was probably the best sleep he had had in a while. No dreams, no memories- just sleep. He would cry if the circumstances were different.

There's a bowl of cold gumbo on his bedside table and the sight made his stomach growl. He takes a bite and almost moans. Man, was he really this hungry? He didn't even think he could still get hungry as he doesn't need food to survive.

The opening of his door interrupted his gumbo filled thoughts to reveal Charlie who was carrying more flowers.

Lucifer: Char-char?

Charlie yelps in surprise, dropping the newly arrived flowers on the ground. He moves to help her but she hastily stops him.

Charlie: No, dad! It's fine, I got this. Sorry, you just surprised me. Haha. When I came back you were asleep again.

Lucifer: Sorry for startling you, sweetie. Are those still for me?

Charlie: Really, it's okay dad. And yes! From Uncle Leviathan. I think he's competing with Alastor of who can give you more flowers plus some denizens leaving some too, which is a problem because I think we're running out of room here. But I don't mind! I'm just glad you're appreciated.

Lucifer: oh..

Charlie, noticing her father's change in demeanour, gave him a sympathetic smile and comes closer. She holds his hands in hers and locks eyes with him.

Charlie: You saved all of Hell, dad. And a lot of people want to thank you for it. They want you to see that they care the moment you wake up. These flowers? This was actually Alastor's idea. He kind of let it slip that you're love language is gifts and he always appreciated when you gave him one. Don't tell him I said that.

Lucifer: It is?

Charlie: The hotel was getting a bit hounded of demons who wants to see and thank you. It was getting out of hand but then Alastor went on air.

She pulls out her phone, tapping her fingers until she found what she was looking for.

Alastor: Salutations, citizens of Hell! To commemorate this joyous day, the Hazbin Hotel is accepting gifts that one wish to give to our beloved King as a sign of appreciation for his valiant efforts! Gifts will be screened by hotel residents/staff first. No sneaking past our eyes now!

Alastor's voice through the recorded broadcast blares from her speaker.

Alastor: Failure to comply to this simple rule and you'll earn a special guest appearance in my radio broadcast. I'm very much excited to see anyone who tries haha!

Charlie: A lot of people were asking what you would like. But as soon as they saw royals coming in with flowers, they just went with that too. I've never seen Hell be this united before and it's because of you, dad. It's not perfect but... it's a step in the right direction.

It warms Lucifer's heart that his actions are helping his daughter's dream even by just a little. He didn't even care about what people might think of him after the whole thing but his daughter seem happy and that's the only thing that matters.

Suddenly, a thought came to mind.

Lucifer: Goodie!

Charlie: Goodie? Was that the woman you brought from Earth?

Lucifer: Yes. Where is she?!

Charlie: I don't actually know. Last I heard, she disappeared.

Lucifer: Huh?

Charlie: As still acting Queen, Uncle Satan told me that he managed to capture Goodie and put in custody but then a day later, he said she's just....gone. Some of his imps are out looking for her.

Lucifer: Knowing her, she may have already been on Earth. Damn it!

Charlie: Dad... what happened in there? I passed out before you went in and when I woke up, you guys were already here.

Lucifer: You passed out?! Are you okay, applepie??

Charlie laughs, pushing away her dad's fussy hands.

Charlie: I'm fine, dad. I was just worried about you. You really scared me.

Lucifer: Sorry.

Charlie: I said it's okay. But stop avoiding my question.

Lucifer: What question?

Charlie: Dad... You went to Earth to find this Goodie, to ask her for help. Help she couldn't give and in the end you're the one who still had to risk his life. Angel and the others said you were there for hours and then when you did come out, you look- You're not you! Aunt Bee said your aura was so bad, she couldn't stop vomiting. Please dad. Something happened in there.

Lucifer: .... Goodie's seal didn't work because it apparently needed to be in close contact with what you are using it for. As the strongest there, I was the most viable to perform it in close range. We couldn't risk losing someone just to see if it would kill them.

A little white lie would hurt no one (biggest misconception ever). But he couldn't bring it up to Alastor and definitely not to his daughter. Roo never said it has to be a secret but Roo isn't dictating his body yet so he'll make this one tiny stupid decision himself.

Lucifer: As for my appearance, it looks like Goodie's seal had side effects. Maybe being exposed to the toxic environment that closely altered my body. In the end, I'm not so sure. And this?-

He gestures to himself.

Lucifer: -Is a small price to pay for Hell's safety. For your safety.

Charlie: I'm sorry.

Lucifer: What? What for, honey?

Charlie: For what I said that day. I hurt you and I'm-

Lucifer: We both hurt each other, Charlie. As the parent, I should've done better. You were just a child. You were my child. And I abandoned you as much as Lilith abandoned us. I lost a wife but you? You lost both of us. And I could never blame or hate you for thinking that way.

Charlie: But, I would never wish that! I want you here as much as I want Mom. But the difference is, you're actually here, supporting me. Even if you weren't there from the beginning, you're here for the future. And I- I can't be more thankful you're still here.

She's sobbing now. The tears just won't stop and she feels herself being pulled in a hug.

Charlie: So stop punishing yourself, dad.

The King of Hell looks up at the ceiling, trying to blink the tears threatening to fall away. Why now? Why when he's finally reconnecting with his daughter? When he has a partner who loves him again? Why did Roo choose him? Why is this happening just when he's just learning to care and love for it?

He thinks about Roo's words-how his life will end one way or another, about the daughter he's going to make an orphan, the partner he's going to eventually widow, the found family who wormed their way into his heart, and a Kingdom he'll leave in ruins.

Lucifer can only hope that they come out alright, even if he doesn't.

Lucifer: I'll try my best, sweetie.

Charlie: Don't leave me again, dad.

He hugs tight like it's the last as he lets her continue to cry on his chest.

'Oh, Father. Is there anything more undoing than a child?'

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dittydipity · 9 months

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what is kagepro? - a quick guide

you may be seeing the word "kagepro" around a whole bunch, especially during august, but what the hell is it?

you may have heard or seen something from kagepro without realizing it! you know that vocaloid song, kagerou daze, about the kids who get hit by a truck and are stuck in a timeloop of saving each other? that's actually one of the songs from kagepro.

kagepro, short for the kagerou project, is a series created by vocaloid composer jin (also known as shizen no teki-p). it's a mixed media series that has music, manga, an anime, movie, a radio talk show, books, etc but i’ll try to keep it simple!

basic premise: people who die on 8/15 are taken to another world called the kagerou daze and if they return to the real world, they will have gained a “snake ability” that will turn their eyes red when used. a group of teens that have these abilities form a little gang but are thrown into an endless timeloop.

THE MEDIA

if you want to get into it, there’s a bunch of different ways you can do it, but do keep in mind: each form of media is NOT just a different adaptation of the story.

kagepro is a timeloop story, and each form of media is actually a different timeline (or “route”). the music videos, the anime, the manga, the books - each one is only a piece of the whole story. that’s why many people may have seen the anime, mekakucity actors, and gotten super confused because the anime is actually one of the last routes haha.

but the order of media that has been generally agreed upon to be the most coherent is music videos -> manga -> light novels -> anime

a lot of kagepro media, esp the light novels and manga, are hard to find since they’re almost entirely out of print, but there’s translations or e-book versions of them available, or if you skip them there’s summaries that people have made. you can also ask me if you want :]

music videos

i’ve actually made a couple playlists for the songs! one is in release order and the other is in story chronological order (mostly).

release order: - i tried to get all the original ia/miku versions of the songs with the original pv if there was one - a couple might be a little out of order since some songs came out together in the same album

this is the order that fans got the music, so if you want to try to figure things out and put things together the way we did you can go with this order!

chronological order: - tried to grab some english covers where i could, but if you don’t like eng covers there are plenty of noneng covers or you can use the videos from the other playlist. there's plenty of really great covers out there! - exceptions to the “chronological”: children record acts as the cover/opening song for the series and summertime record is the ending song for the series - some songs aren’t in here bc they’re not part of the music route (they’re mostly from the newer albums and are kinda like ‘epilogue’ songs after the ending of the anime/good ending or are songs made for the anime)

THE STORY

if you don't want to go through all the media yourself, here’s a video explaining the whole story by breadbox/david toth! he also has other really great kagepro videos

youtube

[a bit of an extra] a very common misconception about the story/mechanics: people do not have to die in pairs or with somebody else on 8/15 to enter the daze. i didn’t realize this myself until super recently

all in all, the kagerou project is a story about finding strength and support from the people around you, moving on to look towards the future, and overcoming trauma.

there’s definitely other people who have also made guides or summaries or videos that are much better and cover much more than i did, but i hope this was a decent introduction!

feel free to reach out and/or ask me anything! i'm sure there are also plenty of people who would be willing to help newcomers understand kagepro as well :]

happy kagerou day!

#feel free to add on or correct me if i got anything wrong!#i did try to keep this more to being about how to get into kagepro so i didnt cover the story as much #kagerou project #kagepro #mekakucity actors #.d #*#Youtube

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rrxnjun · 11 months

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liebestraum [park jisung]

if anyone asked park jisung if he believed in ghosts, he would say yes– for he saw longing grow legs and follow him.

pairing: park jisung x fem! reader genre: summer break au. coming of age, slice of life, angst, fluff warnings: mentions of parents' divorce, swearing word count: 11k (11.190) playlist: liebestraum - franz liszt / the gold - phoebe bridgers / our summer - txt / could cry just thinking about you - troye sivan / burning love - elvis presley / if not for you - maneskin / we'll never have sex - leith ross / christmas kids - roar / raindrops (an angel cried) - ariana grande / ceilings - lizzy mcalpine / the loneliest - maneskin / about you - the 1975

a/n: this is mainly for you, liebestraum anon <3 thank you so much for being the most supportive friend, i really enjoy talking with you. hope the wait was worth it and hope the fic doesn't disappoint. i think that if it wasn't for you, this fic would never see the light of day HAHA

Laying on the floor of his aunt’s living room, listening to the vinyl his aunt popped into the record player just a few minutes prior to leaving the room to get some tea for the guests that are arriving soon, Park Jisung wishes for the ground to swallow him whole and for the ceiling to fall down and bury him in the deepest depths of this house. His head starts to spin as he dives in deeper to the music, the classical tunes almost making him overthink more than he has before. He wonders what would happen if he just left the room, left his aunt’s house and ran away so far no one could ever find him.

He finds himself fantasizing about stuff like this a lot lately. Listening to classical music– because of course his aunt listens to music from the 19th century, she’s almost as old as the composers themselves– he wonders what came through the mind of the author of the song when he wrote such trivial melodies.

Laying on the floor of his aunt’s living room, listening to the vinyl his aunt popped into the player just a few minutes prior to leaving the room to get some tea for the guests that are arriving soon, Park Jisung drifts away to a soft slumber, deep enough to make him more tired, but light enough to wake him up when the doorbell rings and the obnoxious laughter of his dear aunt pierces through his ears.

His aunt wakes him up with a screech. Frankly, it hasn’t been that long since he’s fallen asleep and he truly doesn’t really know if it was his position on the floor that made her scream, or the fact that he’s embarrassing her in front of the guests by sleeping on the floor in the living room, but nonetheless, he’s quick to stand up and bow to the guests, trying hard to be respectful.

His aunt nervously chews on the inside of her cheek. Her smile is a little too forced when she introduces all of them to him, but he tries hard to ignore the fact that she looks like an utter clown, pretending her house is a beautiful, welcoming shrine, because laughing out loud at her antics would surely do him no good. See, Jisung doesn't like to anger his aunt. It’s not that he doesn't enjoy the silent treatment she gives him, finally letting him breathe in the quiet– the feeling of suffocating escaping him for once in a while– but he simply just doesn’t enjoy it when she only glares at him and doesn’t speak more words than a single sentence announcing when the dinner’s ready. It only serves to make him feel more alienated.

“Jisung, these are my friends from university,” his aunt recites, sounding rehearsed, and he bets she acted out the scene in her head a thousand times before falling asleep last night, so it’s all perfect when the actual moment happens in real life, “their names are Jinyoung and Nayeon, they met in university and got married a few years later.”

He hums, scamming the adults from head to toe, noticing the neat way they present themselves. He wonders if this is how his parents looked to strangers when they used to visit their old friends. The truth is, they never looked as neat and as in tune with each other as this couple does in his eyes– but maybe he just wasn’t able to perceive them this way due to the image he made of their marriage when they were at home.

Eyes traveling to the person behind them, the fringe falling to their forehead, he gets captivated by a mysterious look in their orbs, hands hidden in the pockets of their jacket. Jisung’s not too sure if his aunt caught him staring at the unintroduced guest– now, he will admit that he stared at the person, for they were a stranger to him and for no other reason– but he know for sure that they did, from how they squint their eyes at Jisung and offer him a teasing smile.

“Oh, and this is Y/N,” his aunt says, nudging the person closer to his nephew, as if to present a thing meant to solve all of his problems, “their child. They are staying for the summer, so I expect you two to hang out often, since you’re the same age and all!”

Looking at his aunt, a dead look mirroring his eyes, he hears the person– you– with a voice sweet but a little prickly, just like the smell of a Christmas tree his family used to have in their living room during December, ask a question that is easily able to beat him down to the ground in one second, despite not really knowing you long enough to be this affected by a single strand of words plastered together.

“Does this mean we have to be friends?” you say, eyeing his aunt. Jisung doesn't know if you two have met before, because he himself hasn’t been around his aunt this often, but the familiarity in your eyes tells him that this shouldn’t be your first time being around his aunt. He has no way of proving it, and since he doesn't care enough to ask, he may never actually know.

“That’s- that’s not what I was hinting at, but I’m sure you two would make good friends!” his aunt chirps, making him suddenly wonder if her friends even agreed on letting their child spend time with a boy they just saw for the first time, sleeping on the floor of his aunt’s living room. He doesn’t think his aunt actually cares about their opinion, though. He thinks she just desperately wants him out of the house sometimes. Truth be told, he doesn’t blame her. It wasn’t her fault that he had to suddenly waddle into her house, eat her food and sleep in the spare bedroom for the summer– if he was in his aunt’s shoes, he’d want his comfort back as well. She didn’t ask for this. And he doesn’t even know why she agreed in the first place. “You are quite similar and have a lot in common, is what I meant,” his aunt finishes, and Jisung cringes under her gaze, because in reality, how could she even know?

A sigh escapes your lips, eyes rolling as you look over at your parents and snicker. “Am I at least getting paid for hanging out with this loser?”

“Y/N, watch your mouth!” your mother snaps, an apologetic look in her eyes.

Truth is, though, the comment doesn’t affect him. At least not in the way it should– it doesn’t offend him, it doesn’t hurt. Instead, he grins, looking you dead in the eyes, already liking the foreign excitement in his bones that dares to make his life feel much more lively than it has while he was locked up in the spare bedroom of his aunt’s house.

“I’m Park Jisung.”

Your lips widen into a cheshire grin, Jisung’s surroundings suddenly disappearing into thin air, the adults in their own universe now, not heard of and not seen. Staring you into your eyes for a heartbeat, another few words escape his mouth as a premise, unknowingly setting the tone for the two of you already.

“Let’s hang out. Show me around. If I have fun, you get a tenner. If it sucks, you’re not getting paid for being friends with me. Deal?”

He doesn’t know if it was the money on the line, or if you saw something in him that interested you enough to keep on giving in. And after all this time, he doesn't think he’ll get an answer– it’s too far out of his reach, too far back in history. But somehow, in that moment, you took his hand and shook it, starting off something that made Park Jisung who he is today. The contact of your hand with his felt like electricity to the boy, the sudden courage disappearing right as he feels the softness of your palm, and when your eyes lock, he physically feels his knees buckle under him– that’s the effect you have on the boy.

Your roles are soon reversed when you’re brought back into reality by an adult’s voice, your hands losing contact as you break away, looking at your mother with a glare in your eyes.

“Look, Ms Park has a piano! Go and play something for us, sweetie.”

A pained sigh escapes your lips, seemingly already knowing you won’t get out of this no matter how hard you try or plead, slowly walking over to the instrument settled in the corner of the room, cracking your knuckles and humming to yourself, thinking of what song to play.

“Jisung plays too, actually!” his aunt chimes in, and he sighs, halting in his movements,

because one, he can’t play the piano, and two, the song rolling off your fingers is so beautiful, so melodic he secretly starts to hope that he did.

Park Jisung can’t believe himself in the very moment when he’s standing at the rocky beach with you, clearing his throat and scratching the back of his neck every few seconds in a poor attempt of calming down his nerves and the erracting beating of his heart. He’s only 18 and has no experience with girls, so he thinks this is the sheer effect of the fact that he can’t swim well and he’s afraid of embarrassing himself in front of you– he bets you’re not strong enough to bring out his drowning body out of the depths of the lake anyways, so it really must be fear that’s holding him down from undressing in front of you and jumping into the refreshing water.

“Come on, Park Jisung, what are you waiting for?” you jab at him, a sharp finger pointing straight to his ribs. Your top is already off, a peach-colored bikini top catching Jisung’s attention that he instantly averts and focuses on the shiny water instead, worried he’d get caught if his eyes lingered a bit more. Again, Park Jisung is only 18 and he barely leaves the house– the only girl in a bikini he’s ever seen were the actors in the movies he watched on TV or the characters in the anime he once binged watched in the middle of the night, and those curves were drawn-on, on top of that. He doesn’t know what to do around a girl, and holding a conversation is suddenly that harder when his eyes keep drifting towards your body.

“I- I can’t really swim,” he mumbles out, another set of scratching his neck taking place, the slowly burning skin on the sharp sun making him shift in discomfort.

“Fuck’s sake,” a curse escapes your mouth, the word catching the poor boy off-guard even more, since he’s not used to anyone speaking in that tone around him– with the exception of his parents when they argue, of course, but he’d rather not bring up the memory– and his big eyes scan you again, surprised and almost a little worried of your next actions, “well, I’m not getting 10 pounds this way, am I? Didn’t know the uptown boy can’t swim…” you mutter under your breath before you shake your head in disbelief and shrug off your shorts, throwing the clothing towards the beach towel sprawled out on the shore.

Now, Jisung tries really really hard not to look at your bum. That would be really embarrassing– truly humiliating– and he’s a gentleman, of course. And it doesn’t make it better that the whole journey here, you were rambling about your day and about how bored you are in this little village, and he found the scrunch of your nose so adorable, because now he has the crushing reality dawning up on him that he’s 18 and finally having a sexual awakening. No, he won’t stare at your body. He’s simply not allowed.

“What are you waiting for? Are you gonna go into the water in your clothes?” you ask again, looking him up and down when he doesn’t move.

“Oh, I was just thinking I could… you know, stay here and hang out by myself until you’re done swimming, or something…” he says, and the more words that spill out of his mouth, the more embarrassed he feels, because your gaze suddenly locks with his and you seem so amused by his rambling, you find his words so hilarious, he doesn’t miss a heartbeat before he sighs more-so to himself and takes off his shirt, clearing his throat awkwardly when he finds you staring at his naked skin.

“Glad you got the memo,” you muster up, shaking your head in disbelief and tying your hair up into a neat bun. “I swear it’s not that deep from the corners, you’re not gonna drown. Your aunt would kick my head off if I left you here to fry,” you mumble and Jisung hates how it sounds like you’re truly only here because you have to, because the more seconds he spends staring into your eyes trying to predict your next move, the more he wishes you were here because you were only slightly interested in spending time with the new kid in the village– him.

“Alright,” he mumbles, and when he’s finally only in his swimming suit, taking cautious steps and following you towards the water, he finds his anxiety levels rising, because the truth is, he’s never swam in a lake before. Sure, he’s been in pools– but those aren’t so scary. He can almost always feel the bottom of it under his feet and he knows they don’t get as deep. Surely, there is a little to no possibility of him drowning in a swimming pool. Lakes, however, are a different thing. He can’t reach the bottom, and if he does, the surface is disgusting and slippery and won’t help him to his feet– if he really got too stiff and panicked, he could die. And that’s perhaps what scares him the most as he takes the first step on the slick rock at the very edge of the water, the slight stumble of his feet only making him more aware of the reality that’s in front of him.

“You’re such a scaredy cat,” you tease him when you look at him from behind your shoulder, a grin on your face acting like a sucker punch towards Jisung’s gut. And the truth is, he’d be more relaxed if you just gave him a minute– to collect his thoughts, calm his erracting heartbeat as he’d tell himself that there’s nothing to worry about and that the water here truly isn’t as deep yet and the worst thing that could happen is that he lands on his ass, but you don’t give him a chance to do so as your hand slips into his– trying to steady him, as you walk deeper into the water.

Your soft hand in his, fingers intertwined, he finds himself holding on to you like a lifeline– because in his tragic imagination, you might as well be one– and the beating of his heart only gets faster when he gets painfully aware of the sweat pooling in the palms of his hand and the very apparent hesitance in his step. If you notice it, you don’t mention it– to which Jisung’s equal parts surprised and glad, and suddenly, his figure is waist-level in the water before he even has a chance to register it and your hand lets go of his, the momentarily hypnotization of your hold escaping him when he has to face you as he stands still in the cool liquid.

You’re staring at him with a flashy smile, expecting eyes waiting for him to react to you in any way– and when nothing comes, you must realize that he’s too starstrucked by your appearance to muster up anything coherent enough.

“You alright there?”

He finds himself nodding, a hum escaping his throat to accompany his response. It’s not enough for you, though, and the truth is, Park Jisung should’ve been prepared for this, since even the two days of knowing you must be enough to get to know the true intentions of your actions– because you tease him again, and even though the boy gets sulky easily, he doesn’t seem to find himself paying it much mind.

“A cat got your tongue?” you snicker, shaking your head at him.

For a second, Jisung debates on acting dumb– maybe more silence or a shrug of his shoulders would rile you up more, get you more annoyed– but he should’ve learned already that you’re always one step ahead of him, in more cases than one, when a splash of cold water hits his heated skin, making him hiss in shock.

Your laughter fills his ears as he watches you stand still in front of him, presumably not expecting much threat from the boy that’s barely able to move in the lake, but the angelic look on your face acts like a dopamine kick for the boy, vitamin D flowing through his veins as he reacts to your teasing with another splash of water, feet delicately chasing you around the lake, screeches coming out your throat like music to his ears on the sunny summer afternoon.

The water fight ends with him tripping over a stone as he tries to run away from you, and the shock on your face is evident– Jisung finds himself feeling endearment at the hint of you worrying about him– when you rush towards the boy and lean over his body sitting in the water, Jisung’s worst-case scenario coming to life right in front of your eyes.

“Are you okay?” you ask, a hand offered to him to get him back up on his feet.

And Jisung takes it, only to tug you down towards him, his body shielding you from the impact, but still hitting the ice-cold water of the lake. With your face only centimeters away from his, your annoyed, yet amused face causing him to grin, he finds himself laughing at your next remark.

“I take it as today’s worthy of a tenner then, Park Jisung. Having too much fun, aren’t you?”

To Park Jisung, summer feels like sleep and the humid air in his little room back home. He’s never really been anywhere on vacations or holidays, because frankly, with his father’s nature and his mother’s low income job, there wasn’t really much space to go somewhere and explore what it’s like to enjoy the summer heat instead of constantly angrily swearing at the weather. For that matter, Park Jisung never really enjoyed summer. He was always locked up in that small room, sometimes listening to his parents’ arguing– which he so desperately tried to ignore every time, but his heart did that weird hammering each time his father broke a glass or his mother raised her voice a bit louder than usual– and when his parents weren’t arguing, the house would be too quiet, making him overthink.

To Park Jisung, summer feels like overslept afternoons and boredom. He doesn’t know any better, and he would even pity himself, but the truth is, he thinks that’s embarrassing. People have it worse, after all– he’s just a teenager with no life purpose. Just like any other, right?

So when Jisung arrives at his aunt’s place for the summer– no longer having to listen to his parents’ arguing, because after 18 years of his life, they finally decided to call it quits and drag their son to the only relative he vaguely knows for the time being, until they figure everything out– he expects nothing more from the old house than what he experienced his whole growing up. He expects overslept afternoons and sweaty pajamas clinging to his back, humid air everywhere and the weird hollowness in the pit of his stomach.

To his surprise– and believe me, he didn’t really expect this at all– the summer before university is completely different, and he’s pleased with the change.

He wakes up late one afternoon, because he doesn’t expect anything exciting to happen in the time he spends asleep anyway, and when he drags his feet to the kitchen, body tense and hurting from the weird positions he found himself sleeping in, his mind is instantly sweeped of all the haziness when he founds your figure in his aunt’s house, laughing at the radio host babbling through the device.

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” his aunt greets him from the corner of the room, and he’s suddenly too aware of his bed hair and the fact that his clothing is all wrinkled and his face is puffy, because he feels your eyes on him and he hates to know that you see him in such state. Not that he’s any eye candy any other day, of course– he just thinks you could’ve seen him in a more presentable light, that’s all.

“G’morning,” he mutters as he scratches the back of his neck and looks around the room, trying to grasp the events of 1PM– barely morning anymore.

“If you woke up earlier, you could’ve gone with us,” his aunt chirps in from the stove, swirling something sweet-smelling in a big pot. Her face is fawned over with a glaze of sweat and even the wide-open window does nothing to get the air to clear out– Jisung thinks that’s just the magic of summer. It’s always too hot, and the only thing you can do is complain.

“Where did you go?”

“To the forest,” you smile at him, seeing as he takes a few hesitant steps towards your figure, “we picked berries and now your aunt’s making jam. A classic village-like summer activity, don’t ya think?” you chirp, tugging your hair behind your ear as you pick through the big bowl and put away the berries that don’t look as good, choosing to not include them in the jam.

Jisung hums in agreement, still a little confused, as he takes another few steps around the room. Looking over his aunt’s shoulder, he sees the blood colored liquid boiling at the stove, the air even sweeter right above the steam, and he suddenly wonders if this is today’s activity. Looking over his shoulder at you, dressed in shorts and a tank top, he shrugs to himself– if it means that you’ll be over at his house the whole time the jam’s being made, he doesn’t mind helping out in the kitchen.

“Can you wash these?” you ask, pointing towards the bowl full of berries. He nods to your order and takes it over to the sink, carefully splashing water over the fruit and making sure each piece is clean– he doesn’ want to embarrass himself in front of you. Frankly, he doesn’t know what’s going on or how exactly jam is made, but you seem like you’re a regular in those activities– he doesn’t want you to think he’s a city guy with no knowledge of how the world works. Because that’s kind of true, but you don’t have to know that.

Bringing the bowl over to the table again, he watches as you look up at him from the next bowl you’re currently sorting through, raising your brows in question at his stare. The boy almost wants to look away from being caught, but he figures it’s too late anyway, so he challenges you and waits for you to jab at him or roll your eyes.

Instead, you pick up one berry from the bowl and press it up against his lips, an innocent smile playing with your features as you wait for him to eat it, looking at him with expecting eyes.

“Delicious, isn’t it?”

“Absolutely magical,” Jisung replies, overly-exaggerated, seeing you grin. He steals himself another berry from the bowl, escaping from the playful slap you want to give to the palm of his hand, before he sits on the chair opposite of yours, silently watching you doing your task.

“Now, today’s events might not be as exciting, so you can save your next 10 pounds, but once your aunt’s hands get tired, you can take over and stir the jam while it cooks,” you explain, teasing him with your little inside joke– you’re not actually getting paid for hanging out with him. Not really, although Jisung did buy you ice cream on your way home from the lake the other day. So in a way, you are. Just not with real money.

“So fun!” he says, watching you as you roll your eyes.

The truth is, he doesn’t care much about what he does during the day. As long as you’re present, he’s satisfied.

To Park Jisung, summer feels like overslept afternoons, his little humid room back home and boredom. This afternoon, the smell of berries, the sound of the radio and your bubbly laugh when you tease him joins the mix– and he thinks those overpower the grudge he has against the season with such measures he prays every day feels like summer from now on.

The room is kind of chilly when Jisung rests his back against the tall bookshelf– the side of the furniture, so the shelves aren’t uncomfortable against his back– eyes glued to the pages of the book. He finds himself too immersed in the story to notice anyone coming into his aunt’s living room, too occupied with the sentences to hear the shuffling of your feet as you drag your legs across the house. His aunt always lets you in with no questions– you only knock on the door and smile at her when she opens it, slickly jumping inside and finding who you’re looking for in one of the few rooms of the house– more often than not, you catch Park Jisung off guard, but he is starting to get used to the euphoric surprise.

Jisung is an avid reader. He’s liked books since he was little, and it was the only thing he found himself spending money on growing up. When the amount of books he could read in one month became too big for him to keep buying more and more prints, his mother took him to the town to get him his own library card.

After looking through the bookshelf in his aunt’s house, he was surprised– and a little annoyed– at the fact that there were only romance books in store. He already finished the copy of The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy he brought with himself when his parents sent him off, and he didn’t really think of bringing more. Finding his aunt’s bookshelf was like finding a treasure, only if the contents weren’t so disappointing. Still, a romance book is better than no book, he thinks, as he picks a familiar one up and sits on the floor, immersing himself into the story.

“What are you reading?” he suddenly hears, head snapping up to see you watching him from above, eyes skimming through the words.

“A book,” he responds, voice low, before his eyes are back on the pages.

“I can see that, genius,” you snicker, situating yourself next to him and resting your back against the bookshelf, “what book is it?” you pry more, and even though you are almost always the main object of Park Jisung’s attention and thoughts, this time, you are set to the second place as he continues to read the novel.

You are rewarded with silence, a thing that makes your brows furrow and a sigh escape your lips. You’re not used to this kind of treatment, it seems, and when the interested teenager doesn’t give you his time of the day, you have no other choice but to ask for it yourself, no matter how embarrassing it might feel. You’re okay with biting it down– you know he won’t try to tease you about it anyways.

“Jisung, give me attention,” you simply say, jabbing your finger to his thigh.

“I’m reading.”

“I came to visit you!” you act offended, an over-exaggerated sigh escaping your lips.

“I didn’t ask you to,” Jisung mumbles, still reading through the pages, although his focus is now a little thrown-off.

Giving yourself a few seconds to think, chewing on the inside of your cheek, you shrug. “Okay, then. Read it out loud, so I’m entertained too.”

“It’s the middle of the book, Y/N–”

“Come on, I read The great Gatsby before anyway,” you say as you nestle a little in your place, resting your back flush against the shelf again, “read for me so we don’t sit in silence,” you order.

Jisung spares you a glance, a second of eye contact enough for him to be convinced, huffing before he averts his eyes back to the book and clears his throat, reading aloud.

He doesn’t like to be the center of attention. He doesn’t like it when everyone’s eyes are on him and he feels them watching, he absolutely despises the fact that he’s the only thing you’re focused on as he reads through the words and his voice shakes a little at each passage. He feels his face heartening and sweat slowly forming on his forehead, each of his fingertips tingling with the fact that he’s the only thing you’re paying attention to right now, your only object of interest.

“He knew that when he kissed this girl, and forever wed his unutterable visions to her perishable breath, his mind would never romp again like the mind of God. So he waited, listening for a moment longer to the tuning-fork that had been struck upon a star. Then he kissed her. At his lips’ touch she blossomed for him like a flower and the incarnation was complete,” he reads, and when he feels your head resting on his shoulder, your soft hair tickling the sensitive skin of his neck, he almost jumps out of his own skin and crawls under the ground, because somewhere along the way, he admits in shame, in his imagination, you turned into the main character.

Laying on the floor of his aunt’s living room, listening to the vinyl you popped into the record player just a few minutes prior to leaving the room to get some tea from his aunt, Park Jisung no longer wishes for the ground to swallow him whole and for the ceiling to fall down and bury him in the deepest depths of this house. He listens deeply to the music– the loud guitars and the ringing of the drums, so dearly reminding him of the beating of his own heart that involuntarily matches the song somewhere between the verse and the chorus– and when you slip back inside, carrying a tray with two mugs in the very middle, Jisung’s eyes unconsciously watch you as you walk through the space. It’s a weird parallel that makes him snicker.

“Why are you just laying here?” you nudge him with your leg, his figure limp on the floor. “We didn’t come here to lay around, little boy.”

“Just give me a few more minutes,” he hums as he nods, looking at you from below, the curves of your face and the glow on the tips of your cheekbones making his heartbeat stummer for just a beat, an excited glint in his stomach making itself known when you grin at him and your eyes bear into his with an uncertain feeling of mischief and playfulness.

“Are you mentally preparing, or something?”

“Something like that,” he admits, sighing to himself when you offer him a hand and beg him to stand up with your eyes, your skin soft under his touch when he hosts himself up and stands aimlessly in the middle of the room.

You stand in front of him, stiff, for only a few seconds. The eye contact you share makes Jisung feel electrified, but he doesn’t find himself averting his gaze– he’s too scared that you’d find him cowardly, or too shy to meet your glances. And even though it might be true and your whole existence is of exciting importance to the boy, he doesn’t want to show it to you so bluntly, so he chooses to bury those hints and stand his ground, waiting for you to look away first. He didn’t expect you to take it as a challenge– but when his still body annoys you a bit too much, he earns himself a bump to his shoulder, the contact of your tightened fist making him break into a victorious grin.

“Move!”

Jisung takes a step to his left, seeing as you roll your eyes at his teasing manner– normally you’re the one taking the lead in playful banter, but he’s feeling bold today, energized with whatever spirit– and you notice, hating the way he has the upper hand over you for once, deciding to once again take the matters to your own hands and lead him through the situation, grabbing him by his hand and strongly pulling him towards either side of the room, rolling your hips in your place and jumping around, laughing when he doesn’t seem to obey your strategy.

“Jisung-ah! You promised,” you pout, the soft demand in your tone making the boy sigh in defeat and roll his eyes at you, because if you’re good at something, it’s using your words and taking advantage of his weakness for you. And so he does what you want him to, finally holding you more firmly when his hands miraculously find your waist and he dances with you to the rock music– jumping around and twirling the two of you in the middle of the room, because there aren’t many dance moves you can do to this kind of music unless you’re really skilled– and there it is, the wide grin settling onto your face, like a sweet, sweet reward to the boy.

Because even though you really wanted to have fun with Jisung– to get the promised tenner, you said– your mum didn’t let you go to the party in town, no matter how hard you pleaded and tried to reason with her that Jisung’s gonna be there with you to protect you. His aunt knew better than to believe the claim– if there’s someone needing protection, it’s her nephew, and being the one that’s supposed to do the job might be too much pressure for the poor boy.

And when you pouted and mourned about the fact while breaking the news to Jisung yesterday afternoon, he found himself promising you that you can have your own party at his house, dancing around and having even more fun listening to his aunt’s outdated records and drinking chamomile tea that’s surely better than whatever alcohol they are serving in the town.

He’s not a good dancer. The music is not his cup of tea. But hearing your laughter piercing through his eardrums whenever he dips you down or does a silly dance solo just to impress you with his playfulness, he finds himself being content.

He hasn’t laughed this hard in a long while. He says it’s because of your outrageous ideas.

Deep inside, though, he knows it’s because of your sole presence.

“You already finished The Great Gatsby?” you ask, your soft voice cutting through the solemn wind. Jisung glances up at you from his spot next to your figure, the two of you sitting under the tree behind his house, silence enveloping you two like a blanket, only disturbed by the chirping of birds and cicadas in the distance.

He nods. “I’m a fast reader,” he snickers.

“You must have liked the book,” you mumble, your head falling to his shoulder as you nestle in your place a little, the book in your lap still open as you engage in the conversation with him. You’re wearing a summer dress, your bruised knees on full display, and something about the air smelling like strawberries makes him think and wonder of the fact that this feels a little too much like a date, but he’s too afraid to let the thought ring out loud.

“Not really,” he states, “I don’t like romance novels.”

“You don’t?” you ask, the statement taking you off guard.

“No.”

“Why?”

“They’re not realistic,” he mutters under his nose.

“You don’t believe in love?” you ask, your eyes locking with his in a curious manner. The more he bears his eyes into yours, the more he watches as the glimmers in your orbs swim around and hypnotize him, the more he wishes he could say yes, the more he yearns to tell you that he does, he always has and he always will believe in love, but smiling to himself, more out of despair than out of anything, he shakes his head in disapproval and sees the shadow casting over your face, breaking him.

“Why?” you ask, the tone of your voice almost hurt, as if it was a question of life and death.

“Because… it doesn’t seem real. It’s all an illusion, a chemical reaction, even, it’s- it’s not forever, you know? It messes with your brain and makes you feel dizzy for a while, and then after a while, you realize you don’t feel the same anymore and it was all just a lack of judgment. I don’t think love exists,” he says, “or at least, I don’t think it can last.”

Your eyes watch him with a newly found sense, something in your brain turning fast as you chew on the inside of your cheek, and he can see it in your eyes– you want to disagree with him, you want to tell him that he’s stupid and silly and he doesn’t know anything, he’s just too burdened with what’s going on in his life and that he judges everything by the image of love that was fed to him by his parents; the love that didn’t last, the love that didn’t exist– but you don’t say anything along those lines, maybe in a quiet understanding, knowing it won’t change his mind, knowing it’s not your place to tell him otherwise.

Instead, you only bear your eyes back into the pages of your book and sigh. “I disagree. Because, Jisung, tell me,” you say, sighing before you continue, “how could it not be real, when everyone writes about it? When everyone sings about it, yearns for it and so desperately wants it? How could it not last when this book is older than any of us, yet it’s still considered one of the most trivial parts of romance?”

He watches you from above, the crown of your head now in his point of view when he listens to your voice. “You should be kissed often, and by someone who knows how,” you read, “isn’t that beautiful, Jisung? Isn’t that love? Don’t tell me it’s all an illusion.”

Your eyes don’t meet his when you speak those words. Not able to focus back on his own reading, he becomes painfully aware of your head on his shoulder again, the soft tickling of your hair against his neck– and he finds himself thinking that if love is an illusion, a chemical reaction, a lack of judgment, even– if love doesn’t last, if it’s all just a drunkenness that makes him dizzy, he doesn’t mind.

At the end of the day, what matters might just be the present moment. And if this doesn’t last, he’s content with how he’s feeling for you now– even though it might fizzle out, he’s grateful for the things you’ve taught him.

Park Jisung’s summer is filled with him staring at you in your summer dress, with him watching you when you ramble on and on about something that makes barely any sense in his brain, with you dancing around the room and playing the piano in his aunt’s living room, the melodies sometimes lullying him to dreams filled with your scent and your voice calling from him when he wakes from his slumber.

Your face is the image that fills his brain when he thinks of sunny days, and somewhere along the way, he stopped trying to conceal the subtle infatuation he has over you, for you no longer tease him for his gentle stares and allow him to admire you in silence.

Today, much like all other days, he finds himself in your company. Sitting in the meadow, side by side– you convinced him he’d like the sight, but he finds himself watching you smile instead– the smell of strawberries fills his nose when you take out your lip balm and put it on, your soft lips suddenly glistening with the moisture, a pinkish tint like a subtle overlay over your smile. Indulged into the motion, Jisung can’t seem to look away, and he could play it off as him so desperately wanting to know if the lip balm tastes as delicious as it smells, but suddenly, all he can think about it how he wants to kiss you and how if he doesn’t look away soon, he won’t be able to control the urge.

But Jisung’s always been too weak when it comes to you. Eyes glued to your lips, still talking about philosophical themes the boy could never wrap his mind around, never in a million years, the stream of words is suddenly cut off your lips when he presses his against them, tasting the sweetness off your skin. And his suspicions were correct– the lip balm is as tasty as it smells, yet, even better than he could expect, tasting more of strawberries dipped in honey– but in his mind, the sweetness you and not the lip balm, and when your palm meets his cheek and holds him in place, he feels close to falling apart right in your hold, a fragile pot full of love and affection for you only, eyes pressed shut from nerves.

He doesn’t think he’s a good kisser. It’s his first time and he never really thought about the action before– never had the opportunity or the right person to prompt the thought into his head. He tries hard to ignore the thought of him being bad at the action, because he doesn’t want to ruin this memory for himself, and as you pull away for a heartbeat and then press yourself into him once more, he finds himself forgetting the time, space and the whole universe– there’s only you, you, you.

And he could lie to himself and convince himself that he kissed you just to taste the strawberries on his tongue, but it’s far from the simple reality– he kissed you just to kiss you.

Not thinking of the future this holds to him, not thinking of the fact that one day, you’ll have to say goodbye. Not thinking of much more, not expecting any difference in your dynamic. Deep down, he doesn’t even really want things to change– he likes the stillness, the security it holds. He kissed you just to kiss you– it was that simple. The desire was too strong to hold back. It was gentle, it was sweetness, and he found himself wondering how come it took him such a while.

Laying on the floor of his aunt’s living room with you, listening to the silence ringing in his ears and making his brain wander, Park Jisung wishes for the ground to swallow him whole and for the ceiling to fall down and bury him in the deepest depths of this house. He hasn’t felt like this in a while, too enchanted with your presence to realize the weight of the situation, too immersed in the blissful unknowingness than paying attention to the stresses that even brought him to his aunt’s house in the first place, but his head starts to spin as he dives in deeper to his thoughts, letting the fear swallow him. He once again wonders what would happen if he just left the room, left his aunt’s house and ran away so far no one could ever find him– it’s a familiar tale now, but he’s never really quite reached the end.

“What are you thinking about?” your voice breaks him out of the tense slumber, his eyes growing wide as he snaps his head to watch you next to him, your orbs filled with tender care and worry. The outside world is slowly turning into a little less vibrant one, the summer nights growing colder with the undeniable fact of the season ending soon, autumn taking its place and Park Jisung’s own departure slowly burning at the tips of his toes.

He doesn’t like to think about it, but it’s inevitable. Maybe he should pay it more mind.

“Home,” he mumbles, squinting his eyes as he turns his head back straight and watches the spiderwebs in the corner, the weight of his words making the atmosphere thicker. “It’s not gonna be the same,” he adds, chewing on the inside of his cheek.

The silence doesn’t go away as your hand envelopes his, your fingers playing with his in a calming manner, yet still having a playful aura to it as you tug on the joints of his fingers and wave them around in the air, eyes focused on the way his palm fits into yours. “Isn’t that a good thing?” you ask.

“I don’t know,” he answers.

And it’s true. He doesn’t know– fights and anger and bad temper is all he’s ever known, all he’s ever been used to. The silent treatment and the petty arguments are what raised him, and now that it’s gone, he wonders if it’s gonna make him feel better. The truth is, sometimes, feeling like this can feel essential. It feels safe to be so miserable, for when the bright times of him and his parents being okay and getting along happened, he’s always felt unsure, like the storm was about to happen each time; like he couldn’t be happy for long, because it felt uncomfortably unsafe, having the hunch that it’s gonna get bad again any time. Feeling numb was safe. It couldn’t get worse than that– it’s what made him comfortable with his sadness.

And if it’s true that it’s gonna be better now, just because his parents are gonna be separated and they’re not gonna be in contact, is it really okay for him to feel happy about that? Is it really the end? The calm after the storm of his childhood and growing up? And is it okay to feel secure in loneliness? To feel okay with seeing his mother wither away and his dad turning to alcohol every time he visits him in his new house? Because he can picture it now– he sees it clear as day, that this is how the situation’s gonna end up, and he doesn’t know if it’s a good or a bad thing.

“It’s gonna be okay,” you mumble, a poor attempt at soothing the boy.

He finds it hard to believe you. Sometimes he thinks you know everything– you’ve seen so much and taught him so much and told him so much about the world. But can you really know anything about a situation you’ve never encountered?

Still, his hopeless heart swells at your words, the comfort of your hand in his guarding him to reality. He thinks he made you up sometimes– he longed for something to comfort him so hard and for so long that the longing grew legs and followed him around, brightened up his withering days.

“I’m scared to come home,” he whispers, the tone barely audible in the so still room. He’s scared of what he’ll find. Sometimes he thinks he’s scared of the silence, for he was brought up in violent screams and doors always left a bit open– just in case. Is it going to be fine for him to find peace after the violence?

You lean up and watch the boy with eyes bigger than the whole universe, a soft smile playing with your features when your fingers trail the curve of his cheek. Jisung watches your lips and dreams of them on his, but there’s no use when you only trace the arch of his cupid's bone with the pad of your thumb, voice barely louder than a whisper, as if confiding him in a secret. “You’re gonna be okay.”

And with that, you’re gone. Like a dream. Your touch fades and your scent is forcefully dragged away from his nose.

After a few seconds, you play the piano for him again. He recognizes the song to be the same one you played on the first day you two met– and he wonders if it’s your favorite, or if you just don’t know how to play anything as well. The melody is often slow, romantic and idyllic, but builds into an intense complexity. Towards the end, the initial melody returns, bringing a sense of resolution and tranquility. He doesn’t know the name of the song– he’s never heard of it before meeting you– but in his soul, the feelings of love, longing and enchantment remain as he listens to the harmonies and passionate melody.

Laying on the floor of his aunt’s living room, listening to the song you play for him on the piano, so many words unsaid but hanging in the air, Park Jisung closes his eyes and feels a stray tear rolling down his cheek. The air smells of autumn when the breeze flows into the room through the open window, making the hairs on his arm stand up in attention, and his head starts to spin as he dives in deeper to the music, the classical tunes almost making him overthink more than he has before. He wonders what will happen if you left the room right now. If he’ll ever find you, wherever you are.

Laying on the floor of his aunt’s living room, listening to the song you play for him on the piano, so many words unsaid but hanging in the air, Park Jisung closes his eyes and lets himself fall into a soft slumber, the same way he did the first time you walked through the door to his life. During the sleep, he dreams of love.

Park Jisung opens his eyes on the last day of summer and feels coldness seeping into his bones. It’s not cold yet, the season hasn’t even ended, but there’s something about the aura of the morning that makes him crawl in his own skin and dread the day in front of him. After today, he’s supposed to come back home– he’s going to leave everything the summer taught him behind, in this little village, with his aunt he’s grown to adore more than he initially thought he could. It’s kind of depressing, if you really think about it, but Jisung would rather not think at all.

He sits up on the bed, burrowing his head into his palms and huffs heavily at the thoughts running through his brain. He’s not a morning person, sure, but he thinks perhaps his sudden mood change is the result of something completely else– something he doesn’t yet know and can’t quite put his finger on, can’t quite name.

Standing up and walking out of his room, naked feet in contact with the hardwood floor, the clique of the door feels unusually cold against his hand when he reaches for it, opening it and getting ready to face the day. He hasn’t said goodbye to you yet, but he knows he’ll have to today. It’s the last opportunity before he walks out of summer break for real, the last opportunity to see your smile and to hold you in his arms like he always yearned for whenever you were in his close proximity.

Yet, as he gets ready to take the first step out of the room, his feet come to contact with something sharp, a block-like object waiting for him outside of the door. Squinting below his toes, he finds a book on the hard tiles, picking it up and moving it closer up towards his nose. Reading over the title and the author’s name, his heart drops to his stomach, an unreasonable feeling of fear settling in his fingertips as he turns the page and reads through the contents, something scribbled on the first, worn-out page of the book catching his attention.

To my Jisung. Think of me when you read through the pages. You said you didn’t like romance novels, but I know you’re secretly a sucker for them. Always in your heart, Y/N.

A kiss mark in bright red is settled below the inscription, the lipstick stain he rarely ever seen you wear does nothing else than makes his heartbeat quicken and his fear intensify. He doesn’t have it confirmed yet, but in the depths of his mind and soul, he already knows– he knows it’s too late and you didn’t say goodbye before you left.

Still, his feet act before his brain does, his blurry vision ignored when he runs out of his aunt’s house and makes a jog towards the one you were staying at through the summer break. He puts on the first pair of shoes he finds at the doorstep and takes off, his aunt’s concerned yells ignored as he clutches the book to his chest, something about the beaten edges reminding him of the fact that it’s the one you always read in the shade under the single tree in the whole meadow, and it’s confirmed when he gets to your house– your parents’ car nowhere in sight, the windows shut and everything so intensely lonely.

And that’s when he allows himself to break– to fold at the grass in front of your house, to open the book and randomly find the sentence you quoted to him once, breaking his heart into a million different shatters. “You should be kissed often, and by someone who knows how,” he reads, and when his eyes trail over the next pages, he sees each one annotated, words scribbled on the sides of the pages, pretty quotes underlined. You left a piece of you with him, for him to keep, and he should feel lucky, for he has something to remember you by even though you’re long gone, but he just can’t get past the melody you played on the piano replaying over and over in his brain, reminding him that

you left without a goodbye and he doesn’t know what he’s going to do once he moves back home and you’re not going to be there, and oh how badly he wishes you kissed him for the last time yesterday, for he can’t remember how your lips felt against his anymore and he fears he may never feel the way he did when he was kissed by you ever again.

Rustling through the book, there’s a lone sheet of paper tucked behind the last page. Slowly walking home, head hung low, his eyes scanning the music sheet, the title of the song sits unfamiliar on his tongue when he repeats it under his breath like a broken mantra made to bring you back.

He promises himself to learn how to play it on the piano one day, just so he could hear it again. There’s an inkling feeling in him that the song might be important.

Wobbling through the classroom, happy that the bell finally rang and he can go home, Park Jisung hears his name called from the mouth of his Creative writing professor, much to his dismay, making him stop in his tracks and follow his voice with a low sigh. It’s Friday and it’s raining outside, meaning that if he won’t catch the last tram home, he’ll have to run through the rain without an umbrella, and that really wasn’t on his checklist for the week.

Don’t get me wrong, it’s not like he hates this class or his Creative writing professor in the slightest. It’s quite the opposite, really– this class serves good to his vivid imagination and the daydreaming he practices every night before sleeping and sometimes even when he takes a long shower. His professor is nice as well– young enough to understand the minds that are filling the classroom, only getting his master’s degree recently– but still mature enough to lead the class in a way that makes everyone respect him in a healthy way. But today, on a rainy, gray Friday, after the last class of the week, Jisung really doesn’t feel like talking to Mr Kim in the slightest.

“Did you want to talk to me about something?” Jisung asks as soon as the classroom empties itself out and he is standing face to face with his professor. The man nods, taking his glasses off and putting them onto his desk, quickly turning around to his student again and only starting to talk once he makes sure the classroom is completely empty, just to stay confidential.

“Yes, I did,” he says. Humming under his breath as he turns around again, he searches through the papers sitting on the desk, seemingly looking for the ones that belong to Jisung, and clears his breath as he faces the boy again and furrows his brows at the writing on the paper.

“Is something wrong?” Jisung asks, full of concern. The truth is that the Creative writing class is one of the only classes that maintain his grades below the lowest level– the one that gets you kicked out of the university– and the face his professor’s currently making is surely not a one that seeps of satisfaction. It’s only natural for Jisung to feel worried, because with how badly he’s doing in Physics, he surely can’t afford to get a bad grade even in a class that’s supposed to come easily to him.

“No, no,” Mr Kim shakes his head in a hurry to quickly calm his student down, “it’s just…” trailing off, his eyes swiftly moving across the letters Jisung finished writing a few weeks ago, just a day before handing the first part of his assignment in, reading the first few lines over one more time. Jisung finds himself feeling irritated and frustrated, for his professor should be the one that’s good with words, but in this situation, he feels like he’s not telling him anything.

“What is it, then?” he asks, diving straight in. If he gets it out of him now, he might even catch the last tram, as long as he runs to the tram stop…

“Look, Jisung. What I’m going to tell you now might not make you happy, but I think it’s crucial for you,” he says, looking kindly, yet still firmly at the boy, “your writing… I like it. Quite honestly, I find it phenomenal. You have a way with words that just… when you explain feelings, you go into depths and details, and I find that really interesting from a boy like you.”

Jisung doesn’t know what the premise of his words are, and the sudden praise catches him off-guard, since he thought he’s going to get scolded. Furrowing his brows and muttering low words of appreciation, his professor continues with his little ment, finally clarifying his intentions. “But I have an issue with this,” he says, pointing to the papers in his hands, meeting eyes with Jisung again, “it’s not that it’s bad. Not at all, I said what I said, I really find your writing the best in this class. However, I think it lacks something.”

Stepping from one foot to the other, Jisung chews on the inside of his cheek, confused. “And what does it lack, sir?”

“Emotion,” he deadpans, looking straight into his eyes. The words surprise him, making him furrow his brows at the explanation, mumbling in confusion.

“But… but you just said I describe emotions well?”

“That’s true, Jisung, however… Your works are full of emotion, but I don’t think those emotions are yours. You’re describing something you don’t feel, something you don’t understand, and that makes me feel like you’re trying to sell me something you’re constantly having to make yourself believe is real,” Mr Kim answers, switching his tone into a more considerate one, “I like your imagination, I like the plot, however, this all means that your writing lacks any real depth.”

Jisung gasps at the harsh words, the reality of them making him sink a little in his place. “I thought a lot about the plot and the intentions of the characters, I really don’t know what I did wrong–”

“If this was any other student in this classroom that handed in this work, I’d praise them for outdoing themselves. It’s good. It’s almost perfect, I’d say, and I mean that. But when it comes to you, Jisung…” he trails off again, trying to find the right words, “I think you can do better. I know you can do better, only if you actually cared a bit about the things you write. Did you enjoy writing this? Did you like this work?”

“I… I did- I think I do?” he stammers, answer sounding almost like a question,

Mr Kim stares at him for a while, almost as if he’s trying to make the boy realize the lies he’s telling from his own mouth right now, but when it doesn’t come, he just sighs and offers him the papers, watching the boy take them into his hold and stare at him, completely oblivious.

“Jisung, you’re writing like you have to do it. It doesn’t mean anything to you. At least this story doesn’t. And you know, I can see it in your words, it’s- you’re describing everything so deeply and so beautifully, but at the end of the day, you don’t like or care for anything you write, and that’s why it feels extraordinarily empty,” he says, watching the boys eyes widen and his lips form into a pout, nodding softly at his professor’s words.

“Does that mean… I’m gonna get a bad grade on my final assignment?” Jisung asks, lost.

Sighing, Mr Kim shakes his head and gazes at his student with eyes like an endless pool of honesty. “I want you to hand in something else. Don’t worry about getting in the deadlines, I’ll wait for you and grade this at the end of the semester. All I want is for you to write a story that means something to you. Don’t worry about the prompt, even, if that’s what’s making you feel limited. Just make me believe what you’re writing, Jisung.”

Nodding, Jisung finally understands the whole point of what his professor is telling him. Truth be told, Mr Kim is right– he does not care a bit about the story he wrote. While he can admit that he did a good job on it, he did well at writing about ghosts– the prompt for this semester’s final work (they focused on horror and mystery in literature this year)– he is ready to throw the papers into his drawer and never think of them again, for he just wrote what he was supposed to without giving it any minor significance. He might have described the emotions of the characters well, he might have used pretty words and astonishing abbreviations, but at the end of the day, if someone asked him how much the story he wrote means to him, he’d tell them that it mattered to him no more than a homework he had to complete.

“I understand, Mr Kim. I’ll… I’ll try again,” he says, nodding.

He’s rewarded by a gentle smile coming from his mentor, an expression full of understatement and honest care for his student. Taking a step back from him and leaning on the desk, the professor hints that he can go now, offering him one last sentence of condolence before he sets him out of the classroom.

“I’d hate for your talent to go to waste, Jisung.”

Smiling, although a little tight-lipped, the boy slowly walks to the door, nodding one last time before he leaves. “I’ll try not to disappoint, sir.”

The halls of the university are dark due to the stormy clouds shielding the sun from offering the light to the world. Sighing and checking the time on his phone, Jisung notices that he missed his last tram and the only way he can get home now is to jog through the pouring rain. Opening the glass door of the university building, grunting as he puts the hood of his jacket over his head, he runs through the falling raindrops, still thinking of the words his professor told him in the classroom just a few minutes ago.

Not looking in front of him as he runs, his body bumps into someone, making him utter honest, yet quick apologies as he jogs off after making sure the person is okay and didn’t drop anything, hating the way wet clothing sticks to his skin, making him feel almost a little claustrophobic. In the frantic hurry to get home as soon as possible, the boy doesn’t notice he dropped something on the floor–

the papers containing the latest story he wrote for the final assignment of his Creative writing class. Sitting in a puddle, somewhere in the middle of the street, the letters wash away with the afternoon rain, metaphorically erasing everything he wrote and didn’t care about in the past, moving him forward into a new direction.

Still, he looks behind his shoulder, ready to collect them from the ground just in case he might need them for something in the future, only to find the back of the person he just bumped into running away, a stack of white, water-stained A4 papers in their hands. Their walk is all too familiar to Jisung, the back of their head reminding him of something he’s experienced in the past, the sway of their hips and the jolt in their step making warmth erupt in his stomach at the fond memory that makes itself creep back into the boy’s head.

“It can’t be…” he mumbles.

The thought still fresh in his brain, the speculations making thoughts run around his mind faster than the speed of light, he opens up another Word document on his laptop as soon as he takes off his shoes in his mother’s new apartment, fingertips on fire. To write about something he cares for? Putting his everything into words that would mean something to him? It doesn’t seem as difficult right now.

Ghosts. The topic he found difficult to write about, for he’s never experienced anything paranormal before. He only tried to mimic everything he’s read about.

If anyone asked Park Jisung if he believed in ghosts, he’d tell them yes, however– for he has seen longing grow legs and follow him.

To write something he cares about, he decides– he’ll write about you.

He’ll write about the summer that even now, after so many months, feels like a dream.

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