finally kicking out the fic that’s been a draft for three years:) ahaha...aha...ha if its obvious this was written for another character...no it wasn’t
(Warnings: implied non-con, implied drugging, college!AU, dark content)
Gojo Satoru did not like you.
He didn’t make it obvious. But, you could see the way he slowly inched away from you. And the fake fake smile he stretched on his lips anytime he was forced to talk to you.
It was a little offensive. You never obsessed about people liking you, but the fact that someone super popular would rather not exist when you were around...well, it stung.
It could’ve been worse. At least he didn’t openly admit his hatred of you. It was just the tiny, little things he did that made you know there were boundaries.
But you weren’t Gojo’s friend, you were Geto’s friend. Which meant, as much as you’d rather not to go the party celebrating their latest win, you were still dragged anyway.
A loud cheer erupted across from the room. Still nursing your drink, you gave Geto a look.
“The baseball team,” He sighed, “Shit, sorry. I didn’t know they were gonna be here. I know they’re fucking crazy but they won’t bother you. I promise.”
You have to laugh at his genuinely apologetic look. You wave him away.
“It’s fine,” You say, “I don’t mind, Besides, they look....fun.”
Your words come a bit too late as you spot the team captain trying to do a handstand on top of an extremely fragile vase. That would end well.
“I’m glad they’re supportive of you, at the very least,”
Geto is sighing, ready to apologize again. He promised you this would be low-key, just the basketball team and a few mutual friends.
Now it’s just the basketball team, along with a hundred other people.
If anything you’re impressed at how quickly the numbers formed. The music was loud, booming, nearly blowing out your ears. People were dancing, at the very least, moving together in disjointed clumps because you are pretty sure alcohol doesn’t help you with dancing.
Voices tear you away from the scene, and your gaze settles on Geto’s volleyball squad. They eagerly start to wave him over. He shakes his head. You frown.
“Don’t babysit me,” You tell him, “Go. Have fun.”
He gives you a look. You roll your eyes.
“I promise I’ll be fine. The only reason I’m here is for the free beer.”
You’re planning on throwing your cup of cheap booze away the second you can, but you don’t want him to think he has to guard you for the night. That’s who Geto is, a self-proclaimed protector. You don’t even know him all that well but he’s still more than happy to forfeit hanging out with his friends to sit here with you. He’s a good person.
You still can’t understand why a guy like him would ever be friends with Gojo.
They had been childhood friends. Best friends. Stayed together until college. Maybe it was just proximity that kept them so close, because you couldn’t imagine it were their personalities.
Geto sighs, reluctantly slipping away.
“If you need anything, lemme know.” You nod, keeping your smile on as he gives you one last look before joining his friends.
Finally alone, you drop the cup in the trash as soon as you can.
At least, you thought you were alone.
“Too strong?”
You jump at his voice. Gojo tilts his head, gazing at you with pretty blue eyes. His glasses are off tonight.
“I-” you stumble, not really sure what to say. He was going out of his way to talk to you? “I was just-”
“Don’t worry, I get it,” he laughs, light and airy and you’re starting to get why he has a fanclub, “Nazumaki has shitty tastes. Wanna try what I’m having?”
He hands you an opened can. Still a bit confused, you accept. It’s slightly better. With a fruity aftertaste. When you go to hand it back, he waves you off.
“Take it, I gotta’ drive home.” He reasons.
Not wanting to look a gift horse in the mouth, you accept. This was...weird. Really really weird. Gojo Satoru didn’t like you. Not even the slightest. Then, why was he being so...nice?
Or maybe you had it all wrong? You were overreacting?
“Congrats on winning your game.” You tell him, when the silence stretches on for far too long.
“Yeah,” he responds, “you went?”
You shake your hade.
“Too busy,” you responded sheepishly, “but I watched the highlights. You guys were awesome.”
“A huge improvement from fall semester.” he agrees. “Fuck, you should’ve seen us those first couple of weeks. Like a bunch of....coked up squirrels or something. Horrible passes, jumping all over the place, just-”
He’s cut off by your laugh. “I’m sorry...coked up squirrels?”
“You didn’t see our freshmen,” he argues, “It’s a great analogy.”
“I’ll take your word for it.” You smile.
It’s definitely the alcohol. On his part too. But conversation flows like you are two old friends. It’s so easy to talk to him. Laugh with him. For a moment, you almost forgotten how much disdain Gojo Satoru used to show you.
Almost.
“You know....for a while, I thought you hated me.” You confessed, because you had to bring it up eventually. The suspense was killing you, eating you alive.
“What?”
“I mean.” The floor looks weird. You don’t like the carpet. “On campus, you were always so stand-offish. Like you were mad at me.”
He shoots you an amused look. “I didn’t hate you. I guess I was kinda’ just pissed.”
You scrunch your forehead, “Oh, you were? Why?”
“’Cuz you had a nice ass and I wasn’t allowed to touch it.”
You blink. And then the world tilts sideways.
What?
Hands grip your shoulders, holding you upright.
“Woah, baby. I think you had a bit too much. Let’s go lay down.” Gojo purrs into your ear, as he starts leading you away.
You weren’t drunk. You knew that. You barely had anything. You make a meager struggle against his unwavering body as your dazed mind starts to piece what’s happening.
You nearly stumble into another group of people. Gojo takes the reigns immediately, apologizing on behalf of his ‘drunk friend who doesn’t know limits’. It’s so deranged that at one point you’re convinced you’re having an out-of-body experience. That this isn’t real. A dream. A nightmare.
But this is real. He shows you the moment he shoves you into a closet, shutting the door behind him.
“Wh-what are you doing-” your pleas are interrupted by soft lips. You’ve never once thought about kissing Gojo but his lips are like pillows. It’s his strength that suffocates you. Biting and licking up your blood.
“Would’ve done this sooner, but your bodyguard would never leave you alone for long. The bastard. Keeping you all to himself.”
Bodyguard? He’s kissing you again, groping you through your clothes and you can’t stand to even think. Geto, it eventually clicks. His helpful protectiveness. You-you thought he was like that with everyone.
Something, a second wind maybe, kicks up at you. You struggle against his large hands. Gojo grunts, as though your desperation was a minor inconvenience for him.
“Stop it, fucking stop.” He hisses, pulling at your hair. You yelp. “Stop fighting this when we both know you-”
The door opens, swinging in blaring light and the sounds of the party with it. Satoru stills, blinking up at the newcomer. You look up too, heart crackling with relief.
Geto stands there, chest heaving, and it takes a minute for you to realize he must have ran here. You open your mouth, nothing but a warbled plea comes out.
You expect him to do something. To grab Gojo by the hair and pull. To save you.
But he doesn’t. He just stands there.
When you search his eyes. You don’t find anger. You just see hunger.
Gojo’s pretty laugh rings through the air. Undisturbed. Expectant.
Quick post before work but after reading this from @gihunscigarettes
What if Inho took it a step further?
What is he drugged all the players, not just Gihun just enough for them to not fully wake up at the night and dragged Gihun into the middle of the dorm, in view of everyone?
What is he took off all of Gihun’s clothes and touched him all over, talking about what would the players say if they could see him right now?
What if Inho fucked Gihun thighs, squeezing them together and saying how he couldn’t wait to really fuck him?
And after he came between Gihun’s legs and on his cock, he’d dress him back in his tracksuit and tucked him back into bed, wondering what he would think happened when he woke up.
Warning- Misuse of Heavy Drugs, Misuse of Therapy/Counselling Sessions and Medical Posts, Mentions of Death, Heavy Manipulation and Gaslighting.
****
When you opened your eyes, you were greeted by an annoying headache, eliciting a hiss from your lips.
"Oh Jagi, you're up! Here, let me help you sit up. You had such a high fever yesterday. It was awful, absolutely devastating!" Jungkook's voice ad touch greeted you even before you could open your eyes
"Fever? I had a fever? T-This headache...It's...It's terrible." you groaned out holding your thrumming head.
The headache seemed to grow wild. But you did manage to sit up with Jungkook's help.
"I know, Baby I know. Here, have some painkillers."
Jungkook sprung to action, you watched with your bleary eyes as he grabbed a bottle before taking out two pills and putting them into your mouth and helping you gulp them down with water.
The headache began to dull a bit, dull enough for you to think straight "I-I don't remember anything from yesterday." you thought out loud as Jungkook helped you out of bed.
"Yes, because you had a high fever for a whole day. I should not have let you sit on the balcony for too long, the wind is still cold. The weather must have got you, now, come here."
You gasped as he picked you up in his arms to carry you to the bathroom. And you were thankful for that, your legs seemed to ache and be weak for some reason.
You were still drowsy, more than you usually were every morning. And so, you let Jungkook fret over you, help you brush your teeth and change your clothes. He insisted that you had breakfast in your bed since you did not quite recover yet. And you could say that he was right regarding that. You felt sluggish and exhausted, wanting nothing more than to go back to bed.
"Here, Jagi, chicken porridge and tea will be served later. Just the way you like." Jungkook's voice was light and low, as gentle as his touches had been the moment you had woken up to the nasty headache.
"Thank you" you mumbled before scooping up some porridge into the spoon. It was then when you took note of your bandaged hands, causing you to frown "How...How did I get these?"
"Oh, you fell, crashed on a broken vase and then, these and then I discovered how your body was burning."
"Oh..." You had no recollection of the previous day, so going with whatever Jungkook told you seemed to be the only option.
"Don't worry about that, Baby, here, let me take this." With that, he took the spoon from your grasp and began to feed you instead.
You had been hungry enough to finish the porridge quickly and finally, when you finished the refreshing tea, you could keep the breakfast tray aside and lean against the pillowed headboard
"Sleepy, Baby?"
Jungkook's fingers running through your hair felt like heaven. Even more so when he brought up the hairbrush and began to untangle the knots and brush your hair into sophistication
"Just go to sleep then...Everything would be better when you wake up. I will take such good care of you. You will never need to think of anyone else."
You did not have much time to ponder over his words, the sleep seemed just too sweet, and surrendering to it was too tempting for you to even try to resist.
------
.
.
.
.
It had turned into a constant companion to you, the sweet, sleepy haze. You had been sleeping for most of the days, Jungkook woke you up for meals and regularly required routines- and even then, you would be in a sleepy daze.
Your forearms ached faintly sometimes as if the skin had been pricked. But you could jot pay much attention to that, your vision had been blurred most of the times, thoughts muddled up and memories...All you could recall were your recent months at the mansion, with Jungkook.
Had it been a day?
A week?
Or a month?
You could not assess. Even though you felt Jungkook by your side most of the days. On days when you would be cocooned by the gentle lull of sleep, Jungkook would narrate to you about your university days, how both of you met, the places you went together, how both of you shared a kiss under a gazebo while it poured cats and dogs.
How you had broken up with him when he had responded to your love confession with ‘I need some time’, for the third time.
“I was just terrified to be as vulnerable and courageous as you, Jagi, nothing more. I loved you, but I also broke your heart, for the third time. And it was too much for you, so you decided to call things off…And I was lost without you.”
You had sighed at the times he would narrate the memories to you. Unable to remember a thing, you tried to ransack your brain. Nothing, just an emptiness that threatened to tear you apart from within.
You had been too exhausted, too drowsy. There were days when you could barely even make out shapes, or distinguish colours, and there were days when you could clearly hear voices and see clear enough to make out faces. But the haze would never leave you. You could feel lips pressing against you, you could feel Jungkook bathing you, dressing you- those were the days when you could not even stand on your own. But there was something sweet to it, the sleep was relaxing, deep, dreamless most of the time.
You used to have dreams of a few faceless figures before. The figure of a man, not Jungkook, some other man he was whose name...You could remember nothing of him, but you felt as though you knew him. But again, those were simply dreams.
You were glad when the sleepy daze had gradually begun to lighten up. It was relaxing. It was the fever, as Dr Kang, who frequented to keep track of your health, had explained, and of course, the medication had some influence. She was such a kind and helpful doctor, she had been explaining it all, all of it, even answering to your gibberish.
And then there was Jungkook, patient and devoted as ever. You sometimes felt bad for him, he had been there, always- taking care of your needs, giving you medicines on time, even helping you through your periods that had come with horrible cramps. Jungkook had been so considerate through all of that. Dr Byun had begun to visit as well, not as frequent as Dr Kang, your fluctuating health did not allow.
But as you began to get better and the sleepy daze began to scatter away with each passing day along with the number of medicines you need to take, you could hold up longer, better conversations with Dr Byun.
He had been of excellent help in making you remember at least some parts of your obscure past, especially those with Jungkook. But they were still lacking in chronology. Yet, the memories were sweet, loving.
They only proved that Jungkook had been an absolute sweetheart to you. And yet, in your panic and haze, you had refused to even acknowledge the fact that you were married to Jungkook. He must have been devastated.
But you could not blame yourself, really. For some unknown reason, you knew, deep down, that your reaction after waking up was justified.
.
.
"How have you been lately? The fever has worn off I assume?" Mr Byun had his coffee mug in hand.
You were yet to resume your routine, so the sessions were held in your bedroom. While you were still under the fluffy, soft blankets, Mr Byun had taken up the chair by the bed that would usually be occupied by Jungkook.
"Yes, the compelling sleepy haze has almost vanished Mr Byun, as much relaxing and sweet the long naps had been, I am glad that I am awake most of the day now." You smiled slightly at him before sipping on your tea. It was refreshing, relaxing and just the way you liked.
"I bet you are, I had a conversation with Dr Kang recently, the medicine could have some annoying side effects. But you needed that Mrs Jeon, to restore the lost strength as well, you seem rather pale."
"I will be fine in no time, I'm sure of that. Jungkook has been wearing himself out. The fact that I do not recall anything from before the accident now just makes this so much worse. Is there no way I could remember, Mr Byun?"
Mr Byun's smile seemed to be almost cynical, but it was gentle nevertheless "We tried, didn't we? But it is fine, you have got a loving husband by your side. Also, after the fever, it seems that your memories...I do not have much hope. Through the sessions, I can help you lessen the stress and adjust better."
"You're right...Um, don't mind, I've been quite out of it lately. How long has been- I mean, the fever, the drowsiness, seemed to belong." You frowned curiously as you sipped on your tea once more.
"It has been well more than a month if you ask me." Your eyes widened in surprise at his reply.
"So long? It has been so long?!"
"Do not worry Mrs Jeon, you are on your way to recovery, in fact, you are recovering quite well."
"Uh, no, I...I am just worried about Jungkook you know? He must've been exhausted, taking care of me, his work. Believe me, Dr Byun I have been the cause of most of his vexations all these months, ever since I've opened my eyes after the dreadful accident. I do not know what had possessed me to do so, think so poorly of the man. But he had been patient, even when I had refused to acknowledge him as my husband. I must've been simply terrified at the loss of my memories and the disorder in my life."
Guilt never ceased to exist in your heart. And it would often come in with bouts of compelling melancholy, often making you break into tears for no apparent reason. You believed it was the anguish of lost memories and the extreme guilt of having treated your husband the way you did. Jungkook had been nothing but a good, loving and exceptionally patient husband. And instead of believing him, you tried to rely on your hopeless whisps of 'memories'. They were ao scattered and faint now, it only affirmed the fact that they were just a part of a long fever dream.
"It's alright, you have been through a lot yourself. Why don't you begin by telling me if you had any dreams that felt to be real? Or, could you remember any of your moments with your husband before?
To that, you only had a dejected sigh and shake of the head to give.
------
.
.
"But why would the cab be on that road? The route is opposite the apartment complex she was staying in. Mr Wright, do you not find this scene funny? It's either untrue or—"
"I do not know what is true or hoax Marcus, all I know is that your attempt at digging up the case has been met with a harsh warning from the Korean authorities and thus, I want you to be back in London, as soon as possible. Do you realise that you are risking the reputation of the company by digging up in a closed, clear case? Trying to prove the local authorities and investigation wrong? You know you can be even put behind the bars for what you're doing?"
Marcus heaved out a frustrated sigh as he massaged his forehead "Mr Wright, please try to understand my plight, I am not trying to—"
"I understand your plight Marcus, that is why I have personally called you instead of sending you written notice. The executives are eating my head here. You are a valued employee, (y/n) was too. Look, I know how heartbroken you are currently right now, she was your close friend after all. But Marcus at some point, we have to accept the truth. She's no more...And you have to let her go, let it all go. Come back Marcus, there's nothing you can do, or find out there."
"Mr Wright—" The call was cut abruptly.
Mr Wright spoke logic, but Marcus was sure that they were trying to hide something, why would the officials go as far as notifying his company regarding his probe then? His fatigued body dropped on the motel bed as he stared up at the ceiling. The cracked and chipped paint seemed to depict his eroding hopes of finding you.
++---++
The summer had been especially mild that year, and the frequent downpours did not help either. Marcus had his raincoat on as his boots frequently stepped on the tiny puddles on the college campus, but he was still not safe from the rain. He had not yet even had a good look around the college campus, the classes were frequent as well as his photography assignments. He huffed as he continued to brisk-walk towards the college building in view, and he was almost there-
"Shit!"
Only, he tripped and fell straight on his stomach on the muddy ground- heck, he could even smell the damp soil, some of which was already on his hands and chin.
"Oh my God! Are you alright? Damn, wait, let me..." A pair of sneakers greeted him first before he felt hands pulling him up on his feet again.
Before he could even have a glimpse of the kind heart, she had ducked in to pick up his bag and his phone that had slipped from his grip. And finally, when she straightened up, she helped him tuck the bag under his raincoat, which was not required though, the bag was waterproof.
"Thanks," Marcus mumbled sulked out.
His shirt was ruined perhaps, if not, his denim definitely was and he could feel his chin burn. The stranger's eyes gleamed with amusement as she eyed him.
"A raincoat? Seriously?" She shook her head slightly before thrusting her umbrella's hold to him and began to dig into her bag "You have scaped your chin, boy." she pressed on 'boy', keeping an amused tone before she took out a tissue paper and gently wiped his chin.
"I'm not a boy, and I like raincoats. Umbrellas are sometimes troubling, a lot to handle—"
"Yeah, umbrellas are meant for adults, raincoats, however..." She assessed him before a smirk began to bloom on her lips.
Marcus rolled his eyes at her before thrusting the umbrella back to her to hold "Thanks for your help Miss, but I need to get to class." he huffed out, but she only smiled apologetically.
"Hey, I was just playing with you. I have seen you around the campus, I am a fresher as well. And now, I saw you, face down on the ground."
Her smile widened before she forwarded her hand to him.
"(y/n)."
Marcus felt his lips tugging into a faint smile as well before he took the hand
"Marcus."
"Okay Marcus, your face is dirty and your chin is bleeding, I think we need to get to the infirmary first." At (y/n)'s words, he touched his chin, only to hiss at the burn.
Yes, he definitely needed some disinfectant and a bandaid.
++---++
That was just another day at the college as a fresher. But he never knew how important the day would become to him in future. And the caring but bossy new friend he had made, he had no idea that she would mean the world to him one day.
He had never seen it coming. Falling for you hard, and yet it was such a steady, slow process, he barely noticed it, until his heart was embraced by you, his eyes reflected you in the unshed tears.
Was it fated? Was he wrong to love you?
No...Loving you could never be a mistake.
Leaving you behind had been one.
Evading you alike that had been one.
But not loving you, he did never regret loving you, even for a day, even for a moment, even when you broke his heart like that. He was mad, but he was never not in love with you. He would choose you, every day, every moment. No matter what.
"I know you're not dead. I can tell that...But where are you (y/n)? Come back, please come back. I'm not mad anymore, I never was, I swear I never was." He spoke to the void, both within him and surrounding him.
He closed his eyes, and the starry night spent on the rooftop of your apartment building flashed before his eyes. And another wave of memories engulfed him.
++---++
He was slightly tipsy, he could tell. But you, on the other hand, did not seem to be too bothered. You had the flush on your cheeks, he could tell. But the heat he felt was all over his face and ears.
"You are getting drunk, Mar." you chuckled, attempting to ruffle his hair as he dodged your hand lazily with a 'tch'.
"No, I am not." that was not a lie- only partial truth.
He huffed as you only responded with a burst of laughter.
"Hey, be quiet!" he shushed you.
Even in his tipsy state, he felt to be more responsible. But that was not true, knew that. You were just a bit more carefree, slightly more relentless sometimes.
"Sure, whatever you say." you rolled your eyes at him "By the way, what about your date? You were supposed to go meet her tonight. Look at you, you stood her up...Tch, tch, Mar, bad guy."
He was wrong, he realised, you were a bit over the air as well. And somehow, it made you look even more endearing than you already were. Even though you were bossy, you were adorable. Though you called him adorable, and a baby.
"I did not miss any date, I did reach the pub. The date just ended sooner than expected." he sighed out.
Everything would have been perfect, had he been invested in the date as well. It was strange how everything his date did remind him of you, even though she was nothing like you.
"Why? What happened? You were pretty thrilled this morning." gone was the mirth in your voice, instead, a frown settled between your brows as you eyed him with concern. And his heart fluttered.
"I just...I don't know. I just lost interest, she was such a sweet girl but..."
"Hey! Do not worry, you will find someone soon. Somone you just...Click with."
"Oh, you know that?" he scoffed
"Actually...Maybe." there was a strange gleam in your eyes, almost like you were to go to the best place on the planet.
He rose an eyebrow. "What?"
"Well, there is a guy I have been speaking to. Like, it has been a week? Our interests are similar yet different- different like they would complement each other. I never knew that I can speak to someone all night- we are just chatting, that's it. He is- he does flirt sometimes, but we are just friends..."
You kept talking, but Marcus was not listening. He did not understand why, but there was a strange wrenching in his stomach. He wanted to be happy for you, he wanted to be more interested- but he could not- for some odd reason, he had this sinking feeling within.
It was like he knew the reason deep down but could not quite see it, or was deliberately avoiding it.
"Hey! Are you listening?" you shook him slightly "Why are you so quiet?"
"Huh?" he shook his head "No...Nothing. What were you saying?"
"His name, he did not tell me his name yet, neither did he, but he has kinda funny username- Banana Milk Bunny. Can you believe it?" amusement and a strange fondness showed in your eyes under the moonlight.
And Marcus did not like it all. But it was just a boy you had befriended online after all.
What was so bad about it?
"What if he's some creepy old man?" he blurted out. it was still relevant "You should be careful." he took hold of his beer can took a swig, avoiding looking into your eyes.
You clicked your tongue and nudged him lightly "I am always careful. Besides, I have you. We will always look out for each other. Won't we?"
He smiled and turned to you. He would always protect you, the way you protect him.
"Always."
Marcus promised.
++---++
.
.
----------
"He is out there, searching for (y/n) like a madman, probing into the case. Jungkook if we do not do anything to stop him and send him back to London, we might have some trouble to deal with. The superiors of his company have been trying to fruitlessly. And guess what, he already doubts a foul play in his month-long investigation here Jungkook, we ought to act." Jimin's shoulders were tensed as he slapped the files in his hold on the surface of the table.
As Jungkook demanded, he had been digging up on Marcus Wilson, a very good friend of yours and when he discovered that the man had travelled all the way from London to Seoul, investigating into your case, he had stopped treating the situation with an easy hand, it had a rather significant potential to turn fatal for the company and Jungkook's social image.
Jungkook looked up from his laptop before folding it close "Good. We need just another cover-up."
"What?" Jimin was confused at Jungkook's cryptic words.
"Do not worry over a pathetic little guy hyung, I have not felt so at ease ever since (y/n)'s accident."
"Accident?" Jimin scoffed and looked away "She would have been discharged within four days, no serious injury had occurred. Not the mention an accident you paid for."
"You know why I did what I did, for our better future." Jungkook leaned against the recliner he had made himself comfortable on.
"For your future. You did this for yourself, Jungkook. Be honest with me at least." Jimin never liked Jungkook's way of 'mending his relationship with you.'
"You are right, I am a selfish man. But must you doubt my devotion to her? My wife?" Jungkook tilted his head with the question.
"Again, you are not her husband in reality. By the way, does she believe you now?" Jimin shook his head before rolling his eyes.
"I am...On the pictures, on the videos, in her memories. Dr Byun has been doing an excellent job Hyung, human memories are so flexible and fragile after all."
The victorious smirk that curved Jungkook's lips
"And if it is a real wedding you want, I have no problem with that. She will be more than willing to walk down the aisle. She's been so sweet lately and listens to me like the good girl is."
Jimin pursed his lips at Jungkook's words.
"Congratulations...You win then. Let me know if you have any thoughts on Marcus to spare." With that, he walked out of Jungkook's office, trying to keep his cool, baffled at what his friend had become.
And people said that love could never be an evil deed.
****
Okay, I admit it, Marcus is my favourite of all the fictional male characters I have created until now. Who's yours?
Some random ideas and plot bunnies from this evening~
1. Solomon having an equally immortal alpha that he’s been with for like a thousand years, but they vibe apart a far amount, because they’re very old and they have things to do. But the alpha manages to get into the Devildom to see Solomon during the exchange programme, and everyone watches manipulative, powerful Solomon get completely smitten with his alpha. He’s clingy and goes heart eyes every time he looks at them. Solomon and his alpha are the definition of a power couple too, so no one mentions the behaviour they just let let get on with making out in the RAD corridors oops-
2. L has his mating mark on the scent glands on his upper inner thighs, that way no one will be able to see just by looking at him that he’s mated, and that protects his mate from being targeted. Back in the day, omegas used to be claimed on both the neck and the thighs by their alphas, but the thigh marks became seen as archaic and from a time where omegas were little more than property, because thigh marks do not fade over time like neck marks do, and cannot be bitten over by someone else, the flesh is too delicate. Thigh marks can also only be received by omegas, not alphas, so omegas couldn’t give their alpha a mark in return. You can see why they are considered tasteless at best and abusive and prejudice at worst. L doesn’t care though. That’s what works for him, it’s no one elses business. And if this relationship fails, it doesn’t matter that he has a permanent thigh mark because he’ll certainly never mate again. This is a one time thing for him.
3. *tw: coerced mating and drugs* So, I’ve mentioned before that it’s almost impossible for a mating bite to occur if both parties don’t consent to sex, but of course, the shinobi nations found a way around that. A drug, that when injected to an omega, allows them to receive a mating mark without sex or consent or anything. And Sasuke if given some conditions for returning to the village, well just one condition really: he has to get mated. The council think Sasuke needs someone that will force him to care for and keep him in the village, so they contact an old friend of Sasuke’s who says yes to the procedure to stop Sasuke from being forced into mating someone worse. It hurts you so much to do this, but Sasuke agrees to you doing this so he can stay in the village, so you do. But the drug is potent and leaves Sasuke a shell for a few months. He can’t eat or bath without instruction, and he’s tired and clingy all the time. He just acts on instincts and follows you around silently, seeming lost and distressed whenever you leave him alone, but slowly, his personality starts coming back to him as the drug clears his system. And then, between them, Kakashi and Naruto start weeding out the council of corruption and evil and ban the practice done to Sasuke. The day the final council member that ordered his torture dies, Sasuke finally feels a little safe in Konoha. And he’s very glad that it was you over anyone else.
4. Mic and his alpha met young, while they were still in UA. And Mic actually ended up getting pregnant while he was 17. The story branches in two directions. In one world, he had a miscarriage, something which he took very hard and that made him scared to ever come off birth control ever again in case of a repeat. In the other world, he ends up keeping the pup and raising them with his alpha. Mic is insecure over his parenting because of how young he was when his pup was born. At the time of canon, his pup is thirteen and Mic is only thirty. He hates when other people comment on the ages on him and his pup, it makes him so uncomfortable. I don’t really know where to go with either story, but they’ve been sitting in my head for weeks.
A/N: Why would I change your mind when you’re right. Also headcanons cause I found it easier!! (also,,, did yall catch the new killer and survivor cause hewwo handsome and beautiful)
Of course, you’d be on guard with strangers given the recent influx of murders in the city so he doesn’t really blame you for it but it is annoying. You’re stubborn, refusing a drink from him, telling him you only came to the nightclub with some friends but you sit alone. You hold a still full glass of water in front of you, ice long melted and condensation creating a ring above the coaster. Ghostface is many things and patience is one of them, so all Danny has to do is wait for you to smile and look away.
He’s grateful that you’re easily distracted. You look away, your drink unguarded and he’s done this plenty of times, a wave of his hand, and the drug bubbles but you don’t catch it. He may be a killer, but he knows how to act. Charismatic, offering a stick of gum, smiling and when the bartender comes up, offering a small meal and he’s quick to choose something salty, eager when you agree, splitting the food and having small talk as the music increases in volume. It doesn’t take much for you to reach for your glass.
The drug is potent and he may have slipped more than necessary given your smaller stature. You sway in your seat, a hand reaching to the counter, gripping onto it until your knuckles pale. You can hardly keep your eyes open, and you look sick. You try to make out words but you find yourself unable to. Your mouth must feel dry. Your tongue peeks out, licking at your lips, panting like a bitch in heat, and you reach for your water again, drinking more and it’s enough for him to place concerned hand on your shoulder. He asks if you want another drink and you accept.
In your drugged state, it’s easy to fill your system with alcohol. You’re swaying and he offers a ride home, telling you to ignore your friends and how they’ll be fine, holding you by the back, passing an alleyway, and he’s almost desperate enough to fuck you in it, to press you against the brick wall and fill that tight hole of yours. But he shakes his head. In the car, you fall asleep, mouth open and legs spread. He palms you during the drive home- rubbing at your sex and dipping his hands past the waistband of your jeans.
It’s difficult to get you out of the car. You’re so tired, slipping and stumbling, tired and clinging onto him and he knows how easy it would be but he’s led you home- he was sloppy and now he has to make sure that you can “consent” to this. His lips are on yours and you push him away but then his hands fondle you and you’re whimpering, spreading your legs and humping his hand. It’s easier than he expected. You tell him no, but you continue to move your body against him, you try to turn your head when he kisses you but allow his tongue to slip inside.
He’s laughing and tugging your clothes off, suckling on your chest until your nipples are pert and shining with spit. He hears you whine, calling his name, sighing and kicking your legs out. You’ve started to touch yourself in front of him and it’s alluring, he’s getting drunk off the vision itself, seeing you plead under your breath, hands too weak and disoriented to do more than a simple rub. He spits on his hand, rubs it against your entrance, kisses your neck and leaves marks. He makes you say that you want this, and you plead, humping your bare body against his, telling him that you do and he can feel you leak.
Your face is flushed, mouth open as he enters you and his name is slurred. Your arms wrap loosely around his neck, and he’s seeking his own pleasure. He’s using you as a toy, the fit a bit too tight, smiling when you whine and tell him that it hurts. Telling him that it hurts only makes him go faster. He bites the area where your neck and shoulder meet, can feel your body tense and the almost scolding tone when you say his name makes him pump himself into you.
He doesn’t help you reach your high. He is there for his and only his. He bends your legs, shoves his fingers into your mouth, and wraps his hand around your neck. He pulls himself out of you, throws you onto his knees, has you beg for his cock, makes you pant like a dog, and puts himself inside of your mouth until it’s at the base. He throat-fucks you, your gagging music to his ears. His back is hunched, palms curved around the back of your head and he holds you close to him, your nose buried into his pubic hair. He only pulls away when he orgasms.
You’re crying. Tears are slipping, you're a sniveling mess, cum leaking past your lips in goopy strands. You cry and pinch your legs together. He grows hard in seconds. He puts you down on your back, enters you, calls you a good slut for taking him so well. It’s cute how you’re quick to accept his sorry excuse of an apology as long as he lets you orgasm as well. You cling to him, mark him with your lips, sucking on his skin until bruises start to form. He keeps himself inside of you until he’s shooting blanks and until you’re whining at the sensitivity. He’s awful, but he learned soon how more compliant you are when you’re too out of your mind to realize what’s happening.
You’re sore when you wake up and he’s drained. When you stand, his semen dribble out of you in thick clumps. Your throat hurts and you have missed phone calls and messages from your friends. Danny is quick to console you, telling you how you agreed to have sex with him, how you hadn’t wanted to stop. He even has love bites to prove that you wanted it as well. He accepts your apology, you were just confused is all. He lets you shower, makes you breakfast and exchanges numbers with you, his sweet, consoling nature never leaving.
dududddeddedueedude the Kirishima somno drabble you wrote hnnnng like what tha heck would you do? Can't move but conscious as he fills you up, as he kisses against your neck. When you finally are able to whisper out a scratchy, tearful "stop" what does Kiri do? like asudhdfadfoufo I'm melting asdhoasd
God I promise I will write a full fucking fic but this has me panting so pls lemme just~~~
When he hears the word leave your lips it sounds like the fainted whimper, wide eyes staring up at him, pleading with him to stop but Kirishima knows that’s easier said than done.
That’s just it, he can’t stop. Your velvety walls are sucking him in so perfectly. The fear and distress at waking up in such a compromising position only makes your cunt flutter around his cock even more, almost like you’re trying to pull him in even deeper. There’s no way you want him to stop, not really. Not when you’re squeezing around him like that.
You must just be extra sleepy. Kirishima’s palm moving to stroke your cheek as he shushes you gently, rocking his hips against yours slowly as he feels your walls continue to clench around him, his balls pressed snugly against the swell of your ass with each sloppy thrust.
“S’okay, baby. I know, I know.” Kirishima coos as he watches fresh tears begin to dribble down your temples, his large palm moving to wipe them away, “I try my best to be gentle, I promise- but you’ve always been so fucking tight.” Each word is paired with a thrust of his hips, “it took me weeks to finally stretch you out enough for my cock.”
The realisation hits you as you go over his words in your head.
Weeks. He’s been doing this for weeks.
Those mornings you woke up soaked between your legs and missing your panties, trying to recall if you even wore them to bed in the first place as your entire body felt sore. It was all starting to make sense.
You tried to move but you felt so lethargic, the drugs he’d given you dulling your motions just enough to keep you placid beneath him. His hands palming your breasts as he placed sloppy kisses along your jaw, moving down to latch his teeth onto the curve of your neck.
“I guess it doesn’t matter if I leave a mark now huh pretty girl.” He latches onto the skin, the sharpness of his teeth against the sensitive flesh making your lips part in a low whine, a sound ripped from deep in your throat as he begins to lap his tongue over the wound, a faint metallic taste coating his tongue.
“It’s so nice to finallysee your eyes while we do this, Princess. I can finally get some new selfies of us.”
This makes your stomach lurch, new selfies? What photographs did he have of you already? What positions were you in, did you have clothes on? Your body beginning to temble at the thought.
“Oh, look at me. Where are my manners?” Kirishima grinned innocently, moving his thick, hulking body from over yours. Slipping his thumb towards where your bodies were connected and pressing constant circles against your clit, “don’t worry, I could never forget about you, Princess.”
you’re sick but still want izuku to fuck you tbh. but he’s like “baby, you’re ill, i can wait” and you whine bc you ??? can’t ??? then he’s telling you to lie back and he’ll take care of you — just trust him and he’ll make him feel good. you’re so needy and pliant and, god, you’re even more sensitive like this. all he’s done so far is kiss your neck and you’re already whimpering and whining. and when he takes off your shorts, your panties are drenched. “you like it when i take care of you?” “y-yeah — yeah, izu, wan’ you to take care of me all the time”
he wonders if you realize what you’ve just said to him tbh,, but he can make that happen, he’s sure
see this entire thing is giving me some somnophilia vibes and some forced breeding vibes??? and i am thinking Very Hard about it.
BUT VERY MUCH YES TOXIC RELATIONSHIP WITH DEKU TO THE WIN!!!
Can you do Yandere Baizhu headcannons ? If nots it’s chill !! I don’t don’t see anything about him yet and I wanna see more of my snake boy
Hmmm.....I can try anon but I can't promise it's going to be accurate when he's released!
Yan!Baizhu HCs
Baizhu, in my opinion, is the type to be obsessed with you. Perhaps you have a rare medical condition or an odd allergy. Maybe he's interested in something you have and end up falling head over heels.
He's a frail man, so frail even QiQi is in a better physical condition, so he won't do any physical things like kidnapping by himself. He'll probably ask QiQi to do it. And of course, as an owner of a Pharmecy, he probably drugged you to sleep.
Look he may be frail but he's shady smart. At first he'll lie to you saying you fainted and perhaps you have this totally not made up illness. Being a well known expert, it's hard to find him lying about these sort of things.
Cue to constant giving of "medicines" and your condition not getting better, you start to question if he's up to something but his smile and convincing tone never fails to wash away the doubt.
When news of your disappearance rises, he'll lie his way out of suspicion quickly. The fact that QiQi is forgetful also helps. Seeing how it would be troublesome if she told the Millelith how she helped him to carry you.
While you're asleep, either from the 'medicines' or tiredness, he'll take his time to study your body (no, not in a sexual way but in a medical way). He takes note of your physical feature and inspect any scars you have to see what caused it.
He doesn't put any clock or calendars either. It's to confuse you on how much days and time have passed. If you figure out, you'll surely try to escape.
Well not like you can. Being bed-ridden made your stamina lower. Not to mention he is a Vision user, a dendro one. Surely he'll use it to restraint you.
"Ah, don't worry you're recovering slowly. Here take this. It'll help."
