#I suppose all answers for this game will get the salt tag
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Classroom Chaos (Calvin Evans x Reader)
Summary: Calvin decides to have a little bit of fun with his students the day before Christmas break
Tagging: @floydsmuse
Warnings: Mentions of pregnancy, birth etc.
The last class of the morning and Calvin could hardly wait for the already short day to be over so he could get home to you and Ellen. Finals had all been graded, all last minute paperwork filed away for the new year and experiments completed so that the lab could be cleaned.
"Alright guys," Calvin said to his students. "Everything's done and there's nothing else to do. Shall we play a quiz game in that case?"
"YES PLEASE!!!!!" The students shouted excitedly.
"Alright up on those counters!" Calvin told them.
All of the students excitedly sat cross legged on the lab counters while Calvin prepared the questions.
"Alright hotshots, pop quiz," Calvin said. "Can you set fire to a diamond? True or False?"
"TRUE!"
"Why's it true? David?"
"Because it's a carbon based element," David answered.
"Good sir, you have just earned yourself a Mounds bar!" Calvin said, pulling a candy bar out of his desk drawer.
"Oooh my favorite, gimme!!" David chirped, catching the candy bar that Calvin had chucked at him.
"Question number two!" Calvin announced. "Can dissolving salt molecules in water make its atoms ionize?"
"No!" one student declared.
"Tell me why Cindy."
"Because the ionization process starts before they even touch water."
"OOOOH MY DEAR LORD!" Calvin proudly declared. "Young lady, here's a Baby Ruth for your troubles."
Cindy happily caught the Baby Ruth bar as though it were a baseball, carefully sticking it in her bag for later.
"Alright guys let's jump to the periodic table for a bit," Calvin said. Abbreviation for Tungsten?"
"W!" shouted a student in the back before Calvin tossed him a Milky Way.
"Anybody know NI?" Calvin asked.
"Nickel!" answered another.
Once again Calvin tossed the student a Reese's Peanut Butter Cup and another a few pieces of chocolate-peanut butter fudge that his mother had made for the family Christmas party which was just around the corner.
"Alright, the letter Y is abbreviation for what?" Calvin asked.
"Yer mother!" came a laughing voice from the doorway.
Calvin jumped a little but his students burst out laughing and so didn't he when he saw Father McDowell laughing in the doorway with Six-Thirty next to him.
"Sneakin in on us Padre?" Calvin chuckled.
"Heard the chaos in the halls and thought I'd get meself in on the action," the priest laughed. "That and I believe this little bugger to you."
He let go of Six-Thirty's leash before he trotted over to Calvin but before anymore questions could be asked, the hour had come for dismissal. Calvin gathered up Six-Thirty and headed out with Father McDowell to drop him off at the church rectory down the street from where you and Calvin lived.
"Still need a ride to the airport on Wednesday?" Calvin asked him.
"Nah," Father McDowell told him. "Me oldest came out from Ann Arbor the other day with the wife and kids and he offered to run Helen and I wherever we need to go."
"Does she need anything?" Calvin asked. "Helen?"
"Eh, just the bedrest," Father McDowell told him. "As long as neither of us are out in this dratted snowstorm that's comin, I think we'll be just fine."
Six-Thirty snorted as though he had understood the priest's dilema perfectly.
"I'd agree with ye too me furry friend," he chuckled. "I be thinkin a trip to St. Lucia might be in order for the both of us."
"Can you take (y/n) and I with you?" Calvin asked cheekily.
"Don't tempt me ye little gobshite," Father McDowell told him jokingly. "Yer supposed to be at home takin care o' her and the baby last I heard."
"Really? Who told you?" Calvin chuckled.
"Yer damn mother! That's who!" Father McDowell laughed. "Don't think I didn't hear it from her after Sunday Mass, she told me ever'thin."
Calvin laughed the whole time they were driving home and even a little after he had dropped Father McDowell off in front of the rectory. He couldn't help it either when he unloaded Six-Thirty from the back and let him into the house, only quieting down when he walked in to hear the soft sound of the Christmas records playing on the stereo and the crackling of the warm fire in the living room.
He leaned over the back of the couch where you had been sitting, rocking Baby Ellen in her little wood cradle. Six Thirty cautiously peered in, resting his head on the edge as he gazed at the tiny little human within.
"You're home early," you said.
"Better early than late," Calvin said, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your lips. "How is she?"
"Tired," you answered. "I just fed her two minutes ago so she'll be out until well after dinner."
Calvin came around and seated himself next to you as Ellen began to stir, placing his large but gentle hand on her little belly to calm her down. It wasn't long before she went back to sleep and before you two had snuggled into each other, relieved that now you could have five weeks all to yourselves.
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I suck horribly at actually talking to people but I NEED to make it known how much I've loved and enjoyed your jade fics!!! Every single one has been a total banger., i've been fed so well.
I absolutely loved the readers lack of autonomy in your japanese folklore fic (im typing off memory so my spelling of everything will be off) they didn't have a choice in anything. fish wife <3 I'll admit I was a little confused with the Garappo, i truly thought it was some weird suicide until Jade later mentioned it. And why Floyd mentioned his brother dying to one, (I honestly thought it was supposed to be jade creature)
AGHHHH fish wife??? really?? fish wife??? the ending was so delicious, i could almost visualize it. so lovely. the fear, lack of autonomy, the loss of all they've known, never knowing what's real and what's a fantasy. I'm not sure what you envisioned for their future, but I can imagine that lack of autonomy will be more of a pressing issue than it was. God, the view of that though!!! Someone you only remember when you're too hazy to be in the real world, someone that's been with you throughout your life, someone that's wanted you since you could remember. isn't that so romantic? Finally together where the sun can't part you, under the water.
i dont know how to really explain what im feeling, or what i think, but i feel like it's such a poignant visual to be killed by this Jade in that way. It feels like watching a puzzle you've been working on be completed, or reaching a new plot point in a game you like, it's this feeling of intrigue, anticipation, idk. I always get that feeling reading your fics and also HOLY FUCK THEYRE SO LONG!!!!!!
and dont think i've forgotten your other fics LOL im ready to talk about those too holy fuck. I don't have that much to say unfortunately, I really enjoyed them just as much but I'm far more speechless. The Jade fic based off of Mera's god! Floyd was... really nice. The altar scene felt like Jade was punishing them for something. That's just how the bee crumbles, though. "sadist" might not rhyme with "jade" but it's basically the same word anyway... I loved watching Jade's opinion of Reader change over the time skips, he goes from mild annoyance/hate or, idk, repulsion (?) to interest, to love (menace style).
The reader fulfilling nothing in the end was certainly something. I loved it.
I've never really had a family, so I can't understand reader's motivations in your "crowley finds a way to send Yuu home" fic, but it made me wish I had one. I enjoyed the ending, the usage of the ghost camera. Poor Jade, really. I don't have much to say, because I'm not personally a fan of angst.
I feel like I can safely say you're my favorite writer, even above Mera. (who i now know you're also a fan of!!! which is neat!!!!!)
i know i probably could've DMed you but I feel like an ask is more appropriate >:) i hope you enjoy the long ask, as an artist myself this is kinda like tags on my art, and i really feel like you deserve that happiness. not good at talking, my bad!!!!
oh the way this made my day, i’m on break for my 6-2 shift and just AAAAAAAAAA thank you thank you thank you for this ask (*≧∀≦*) i’m geeking over here man,, i’m so flattered
okay to answer the first thing about why Floyd mentions his brother got killed by one!! the entire point of him going there is to check if his future sibling in law opinion on yokai, his brother’s lovesick so Floyds on the case
he had to make the reader let him stay!! the idea of the garappa outside is more terrifying to the reader than letting in a stranger & he mentions his brother dying to one (falsely!!! he’s lying ofc!!!)
bc the reader’s like oh that sounds familiar for him to have a brother, that fits into place — doubled with the bath salts, it’s an ease slip inside the shrine
“the fear, lack of autonomy, the loss of all they've known, never knowing what's real and what's a fantasy.” dude why did you write Sundo better than me??? why did you write the whole thesis of Sundo in a more poetic and all around better way that i ever could holy shit
also if i was the reader i’d give into to be an umi bozu so easily,, like the eldritch beauty of becoming something truly incomprehensible, some Berserk-esque creature
like look at this!!!!! it would be so cool to be this!!!!! GIANT FISH WIFE!!!!
AAAAA to be a huge monster loved and adored by your husband who stole/shares your immortal soul and infects your memory like a leech 💕💕
“It feels like watching a puzzle you've been working on be completed, or reaching a new plot point in a game you like,” AAAAA THANK YOU!!! (￣个￣) this particular part has me geeking,, i’m a big video game fan so to mimic that feeling of completeness, integrality!!!
and yeah i’m always worried about length bc i’m too fluent in yappanese when it comes to writing
the altar scene in Psilocybin was definitely a mixture of punishment and accepting them into his world — he’s always going to be salty that he does not know what fear tastes, smells, looks like upon the reader! (〃´∀｀)
i’m a HUGE momma’s girl so that’s where the theme of Schism came from haha and i love Tool’s music — thank you for saying u like the ghost camera usage, i was worried the audience might not get this BUT reader does not end up leaving; that end scene is specifically with the fragment of her soul from the photograph on Jade’s desk
ALSO MORE THAN MERA???? AAAAA THATS CRAZY PRAISE 💕💕💕 (O∆O)
UM THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THIS ASK <<<3 im tattooing it in my head forever!!!! also ure my first mutual and it’s such an honor bc you’re so incredibly talented and AAAA i’m still geeking 💕
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20 questions for Fic Writers
Omg it took me ages to get to this but better late than never! Thanks for the tags @rosie-b, @monpetitchattriste, @lesbitorte, @kasienda and @celestialtitania!!
1. How many works do you have on AO3?
Um. 107*... It's possible that I have a problem 😂
(*one is on anon. more on that later adfdsd)
2. What's your total AO3 word count?
801,972!!! (fun fact i was just below 800k the first time i got tagged in this game so i was like "oh well i'm posting a new chapter tomorrow...i'll do this game after that so i can pass that milestone!" and then i posted the chapter but it took me close to a week to do this ahaha)
3. What fandoms do you write for?
mostly just ml. i have a few spop fics too but i don't really write for that fandom anymore. or at least not right now.
4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?
Gah. okay. I'm going to answer this honestly but to do that I first need to explain that my most kudoed fic is on anon because I'm annoyed it's my most kudoed fic aksjfbksdb. Like. It's only so popular because there's a bit of lila salt? and really the fic isn't about that but i don't really write that kind of thing anymore and i don't want ppl coming to my profile and sorting by kudos and seeing that first. There are other things i'd do a lot differently in that fic now too ahaha.
Break a Leg
Cards Against Ladybug's Identity
Ladybug And The Tramp Stamp
Imaginary Friends
The Sun Will Rise Again
5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?
I do!! I reply to pretty much every comment--unless it's particularly rude/rubs me the wrong way. I know commenting takes time and I appreciate the effort ppl put into it so I like to give my thanks back!
6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?
Probably Every Teardrop is a Waterfall. Although I think Girl Is A Gun is a strong contender too?
7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?
Uh...well, most of my fics have happy or at least hopeful endings. I don't think I can narrow this down to just a few haha.
8. Do you get hate on fics?
I don't think I've ever gotten hate? Definitely some comments that aren't super nice but nothing too bad. (now i've probably gone and jinxed it 😂)
9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?
um. a little tiny bit but not enough to have a particular kind LOL. i've only posted it once so far. but i also have Entangled, which will have smut in the next chapter--and that's angsty smut. which i suppose would be my brand of smut if i ever write any more
10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?
i haven't! i entertained the idea of an ml/spop crossover a couple years ago but i don't have any interest in it anymore. oh and i ALSO had an idea for a marigami spyxfamily crossover. but i don't know if i'll ever get around to that
11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?
not that i know of! (*knocks on forehead since no wood is nearby*)
12. Have you ever had a fic translated?
no, but that would be super cool!
13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?
i have not! a few times i've planned to write things with other ppl but nothing that ever really made it to the writing stage ahaha. although the littlebug vday zine is a collab in the form of a series--not exactly co-written but similar vibes
14. What's your all-time favourite ship?
to write for, definitely the love square. and then catradora is so special to me because it got me back into writing and also i started IDing as a lesbian in part because i binged spop.
aside from that i can't really decide because like. there are so many shows i've seen and books i've read and ships i've loved for so many different reasons asdfbk. and then i have OC ships that only live in my head but that i love to play with sometimes before i fall asleep at night. so please don't make me choose!!
15. What's a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?
uh. i would say none of them? because it's only when i completely lose interest in a fic that i lose the belief i'll finish it. and that's only happened with maybe two of my wips i can think of?
16. What are your writing strengths?
Depicting emotions! And using the setting to do that by establishing the mood/tone/etc...
17. What are your writing weaknesses?
i guess like...self-doubt? not that i'm awful with it. in general i think i'm pretty good that way. but it's my biggest barrier to writing when i have periods where i get in my head about my writing, and it can make me overthink and not know if i LIKE my writing. and i think my writing is at its best when i'm having fun with it (which is probably true of most ppl), so...
18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?
i think it makes sense when the characters are actually speaking that language for a short time but aren't speaking it for most of the fic? like i have one ml AU set in new york so they're speaking english for most of it and i used french for the first couple lines that were french (and weaved the translations into the narrative). so that's the only time i do that personally--aside for maybe one word lines like bonjour--but as a reader it doesn't usually bother me when i see it used other ways
19. First fandom you wrote for?
ahaha the Vampire Academy book series. and NO you won't find those fics anywhere, even though they are still out there somewhere
20. Favourite fic you've ever written?
currently Say Something. and i very much wish i could finish writing it, but it'll happen when it happens!
I think most people I would have tagged have probably been tagged by this point...likely more than once 😂. So whoever else wants to play should do so!!
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20 Questions for fic writers
Tagged by @mrsd-writes (so sorry for the delay, but better late than never I guess 🤣)
Tagging... hmm... @shadoedseptmbr @miniature-space-hamster @teamdilf @korblez and @cr-noble-writes (if you guys want to take part and/or haven't already been tagged lol
1. How many works do you have on AO3?
197, which is... uh... well that sure is a number. Heck.
2. What’s your total A03 word count?
221,553
3. What fandoms do you write for?
I'm not active in most of them lol. The first four are current fandoms, the rest I've dipped my toes into once upon a time lol
Batman | Baldur's Gate 3 | Mass Effect | FFVII | FFXV | Lucifer (TV) | The Witcher | Hades (video game 2018) | Detroit: Become Human (video game) | Dragon Age | Skyrim (I don't feel this counts since the only fic for it is a crossover but ANYWAY)
4. What are your top five fics by kudos?
See, this isn't really... I think this should be taken with a pinch of salt, to be honest, because my top 5 were lucky hits - they were posted while the fandoms were still fresh and hot, y'know?
1st
"Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?" (6112 words) by Wrathofscribbles
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Lucifer (TV)
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Chloe Decker/Lucifer Morningstar
Characters: Chloe Decker, Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV)
Additional Tags: Self-Harm, Angst, Hurt/Comfort
Summary:
It's a simple question, really, it is.
And the answer should be simple, a bark of laughter and an easy "no".
But when the devil never lies, how is he supposed to answer?
2nd
Here there be wings (2884 words) by Wrathofscribbles
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Lucifer (TV)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Relationships: Chloe Decker/Lucifer Morningstar
Characters: Chloe Decker, Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV)
Additional Tags: Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV) Wing Reveal, Crack, with a dash of fluff
Summary:
He did have a plan.
That plan did not involve wings.
And yet here they are. And there Chloe is.
"Cat" out of the bag, indeed.
3rd
Hold (642 words) by Wrathofscribbles
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Relationships: Connor/Markus (Detroit: Become Human)
Characters: Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Markus (Detroit: Become Human)
Series: Part 1 of Minor details
Summary:
They belong to a killer, they belong to a saviour.
4th
Courtship (421 words) by Wrathofscribbles
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Lucifer (TV)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Chloe Decker/Lucifer Morningstar
Characters: Chloe Decker, Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV)
Summary:
"A courtship display is a set of display behaviours in which an animal attempts to attract a mate and exhibit their desire to copulate. These behaviours often include ritualised movement ("dances"), vocalisations, mechanical sound production, or displays of beauty, strength, or agonistic ability."
5th
The nose knows (701 words) by Wrathofscribbles
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Characters: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Jaskier | Dandelion
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence
Series: Part 1 of Witcher, my only treasure
Summary:
Jaskier's a bit of an odd duck.
If only Geralt knew the half of it.
5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?
I do! I've been making a conscious effort of late to respond to comments, even if it's a simple heart or thank you. I still feel silly keeping it short and simple like that, but I've turned a corner with how I regard my writing and sharing it over the past year, so. I figure it doesn't hurt to ping out a wee acknowledgement of the comments, y'know? Granted, if it means someone's gonna get x5 thank yous from me then I might just stick to the one response lol.
6. What’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?
Oh god I don't know. It's been so long since I've looked at some of my stuff and I'm not gonna go through all 197 fics rip. The most recent angsty ending is this one, since, y'know, major character death whacks you over the head from the very start of the game rip (I'm still wounded over that btw. I don't think I'll ever recover)
No rest… (321 words) by Wrathofscribbles
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Batman - All Media Types, Gotham Knights (Video Game 2022)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Characters: Dick Grayson
Additional Tags: Hurt No Comfort, Grief/Mourning
Summary:
… for the wicked, nor for those fighting them.
7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?
Off the top of my head, this one from back in my FFXV days.
Leave a message after the tone (860 words) by Wrathofscribbles
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Final Fantasy XV
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Prompto Argentum/Noctis Lucis Caelum
Characters: Prompto Argentum, Noctis Lucis Caelum
Summary:
He never deleted the voicemails when he received them. Maybe he knew not to, even back then.
8. Do you get hate on your fic?
Surpisingly enough, no. I don't know whether that's luck, or that I've somehow managed to stick within safe writing territories, or I'm not a big enough name (thank god) to catch much attention. Regardless, if there's to be any hate life is too goddamn short and that shit's gonna get deleted.
9. Do you write smut?
Yeeeeeeeeeeeeees. I just never post it 😅
10. Do you write crossovers?
Very rarely. I tend to lose steam with 'em fairly quickly, though, so. Unless it's an idea that takes over my entire soul, it probably ain't gonna happen these days.
11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?
Not to my knowledge, no.
12. Have you ever had a fic translated?
Not that I'm aware of, nope.
13. Have you ever co-written a fic?
Nope. I've worked alongside an artist during a fandom exchange, and during my FFXV days I wound up writing a fair few things inspired by artist works and gifting to them, but actually co-writing? Nada.
14. What‘s your all-time favourite ship?
HAH. Listen, I sail ships across multiple fandoms I can't just pick one.
Shepard/Kaidan (Mass Effect)
Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne (Batman/Superman)
Fenris/Hawke (Dragon Age II)
Astarion/Tav (BG3)
Zagreus/Thanatos (Hades)
Vincent/Chaos (FFVII)
15. What’s the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?
THIS ONE. THIS ONE THIS ONE THIS ONE. The ideas are THERE. The barebones plot is there. AN IMPORTANT THING HAPPENS in this fic that features THROUGHOUT THEIR SERIES and I can't INCLUDE it elsewhere yet until THIS IS FINISHED. But I don't see it happening anytime soon. I might actually have to rewrite it - I'm positive there's something in the current chapters that's tripping me up and ugh.
Sunlight… (4716 words) by WrathBites
Chapters: 2/4
Fandom: Mass Effect Trilogy
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Characters: Kaidan Alenko, Male Shepard (Mass Effect)
Additional Tags: Pre-Relationship, Friendship, Returning Home, Alternate Universe - Vampire
Series: Part 12 of Sunlight and Stardust
Summary:
In which Shepard returns home, with a mandatory plus one.
16. What’s your writing strengths?
Dialogue and describing magic, hands down. That's my jam, love it, could do it all day.
17. What’s your writing weaknesses?
Writing anything but the dialogue in a given scene and setting the scene so readers know where the fuck characters are and their positioning to one another.
18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?
Eh. You won't catch me doing much of it on my end since there's a 98% chance I'll be butchering the language. The only exception is a smattering of Gaelic, since I'm on/off learning that (hi, Scottish, and you'd be surprised how many schools don't teach a single word of our native language :D it's great fun :D it's totally okay :D )
19. First fandom you wrote for?
Final Fantasy VII, but the first work posted to AO3 is for Detroit: Become Human
20. Favourite fic you’ve ever written?
"Did it hurt when you fell from heaven" (Lucifer, linked further up). I was a woman possessed with that fic, 6,112 words written in one sitting (has never happened before or since, let me tell you) because. It just.
Listen okay if you've seen Lucifer (absolutely would recommend the first two seasons, my faves) there's just. He's hurting. He's struggling. And the subject matter I touch on in the fic is just glossed over in the show (it feels like it anyway) and it didn't sit right with me at all and man how I wished I could reach through that screen and give Lucifer a hug (not that he'd appreciate the gesture but still).
I wanted to shake everyone around him and scream for them to open their eyes and see. And so the fic was born. Pretty sure I stayed up until crazy o'clock writing it because I had to, it needed put into writing dammit.
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Newsies as things that have happened in school (first day edition)
Medda: Yeah when I was in high school orchestra we had very competitive seating so like if you were a fifth chair and you wanted to be a third chair you would have to challenge whoever was in the third chair and you would have a playoff- it was very intense. And then if you won the chair challenge you got the chair closer to the conductor, it was a real thing
Crutchie: What in the high school musical-
Denton: It falls around Thanksgiving-
Mike: *very quietly* gobble gobble...
Denton: ... What was that?
Medda: The sophomores are in a meeting right now so they aren't with us today-
Race: *a sophomore, currently sitting in Medda's class* ...The sophomores are what
Albert: I'm an 11th grader in a freshman class they're gonna know I'm dumb!
Finch: Lie about your grade
Race: Put on a fake accent and say you're from Russia
Albert: Guten tag!
Finch: ...That's the wrong language
Race: This is why you're in a freshman class as a junior
Race: Smell me
Spot: I'll pass
Race: No I smell good
Albert: He smells like cookies
Spot: I... I am not going to smell you
Davey: *walks into a class that's only for juniors to see a bunch of underclassmen but also other juniors (Jack, Mike, Ike, and Oscar)* uhhhh... Is this the right-
Jack: Yeah somethin's fucked up
Davey, Jack, Mike, Ike, and Oscar: *currently supposed to be in a class meeting in another room*
Race: My social Security number is 735. 814-
Davey: STOP YOU'RE GOING TO GET IMPERSONATED IF YOU KEEP DOING THAT!!!
Elmer: I still can't drive
Buttons: his mom lost his social Security card
Crutchie: She what-
Wiesel: Come on, hurry up
Hotshot: We're goin!
Spot: Oh my god you guys are strolling! Aren't you on the football team? You gonna take us to states?? Do you move this slow on the field??
Race: You know they do
Denton: Welcome good morning I know you're all excited to be back- don't answer that
An inspirational video they were forced to watch: "He taught his whole team how to say I love you in sign language!"
Race: *slowly leans forward and makes the I love you sign at Albert*
Albert: *flips him off*
Race: :(
Davey: Oh god the sophomore hallway REEKS of Axe Body Spray
Jack: *joking* I know this is your doing, Elmer
Elmer: :(
Denton: Welcome to creative writing your teacher is crying it's a great first day
Race: damnit I have a scrimmage after school
Denton: What sportsball do you play?
Race: Soccer
Denton: And who are you sportsballing against?
Race: Brooklyn
Denton: Crush em
Romeo: OH MY GOD I JUST SENT THIS GUY STREAKS AND LOOK AT WHAT HE SENT BACK
The message: "I want to choke you with my cock"
Myron: WHAT THE FUCK
*in creative writing class with the gay teacher*
Davey: uh, hi. My name is David, he/him. My favorite book is Salt to the Sea and my favorite author is Ruta Sepetys, who wrote it. My main genres I like to write are realistic fiction and sci fi or fantasy. I write because I have a lot of ideas and if I don't put them somewhere I won't be able to function.
Romeo: wassup, I'm Romeo, he/they but I don't mind the occasional she/her. My favorite book is the Hunger Games and my favorite author is Rick Riordan. My primary genre I like to write is fanfiction and I write because media consumes me and if I like something it's all I can think about for weeks at a time.
Davey, in his head: shit man I mean me too but I'd never have the guts to say that out loud in front of a class-
Jack: Dress code! Dress code violation! Dress code!
Sarah: What does my turtleneck show too much?
Buttons: *GASP* I WANT THE CHAIR WITH THE WHEELS!!! IS THIS FOR THE TEACHER CUZ IT'S FOR ME NOW-
Race: I didn't have my protein shake this morning I am lacking!
Crutchie: Didn't you drink your first one a couple weeks ago- if even??
Race: Actually, Jack's mom gave me like $100 worth of coupons-
Davey: *about Spot* He sings both baritone and tenor.
Jack: He's bivocal
Race: I hate it when he calls me white man because then I can't say anything back or I'll sound unintentionally racist!!!
Jack: Fuckin white man
Race: Stoppp!
Wiesel: We're programmed as human beings to respond with care to things in need. Which is a good thing because otherwise we would probably drown all of our babies-
Crutchie: HUH???
Wiesel: You've programmed your brain to think like that about your phones- *continues like normal*
Crutchie: *20 minutes later* did he not say something about drowning babies???
Race: Fuck I have to take my makeup off before soccer but I don't have any makeup wipes!!
Spot: *jokingly* If you didn't wear makeup to school we wouldn't be having this issue
Albert: Did you just call him an ugly whore??
Spot: Yeah, actually
Romeo: *with nobody paying attention to them* Y'all ready? Y'all ready? *moves backwards and promptly trips over Specs's feet*
Specs: *literally in the middle of a conversation with Finch* ... You good?
Romeo: You tripped me! I was moon walkin!
TW Under the cut jokes about sewerslide and the f slur by someone who can claim it
Race: *jokingly at Smalls* Ewwwww! Freshman!
Smalls: KILL YOURSELF YOU STUPID FAGGOT!!!!
Jack: :0
Race: :0
Jack: did she just-
Race: THERE WAS NO HESITATION???
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The mob Boss au?
mob boss au
ok so i’m tagging @kuwdora bc i was supposed to answer her ask from The WIP Game from idk years ago probably, BUT
mob boss au
so: modern with magic setting, 1930’s prohibition era, film noir style gangster au feat betrayal, gun running, vicious retaliation, iorveth as a femme fatale, you know, all the good stuff
Foltest is from one of the big old style mob families, but he’s been taking it in a new direction, divorcing himself from his father’s legacy. Roche is his best enforcer, hired on as a teen when Roche took out the pimp who ran the brothel his mum worked at, and was brought in for discipline and then kept. Foltest can use that kind of fire and spark. point it somewhere useful and who knows what might happen.
the Blue Stripes are Roche’s personal crew, built out of a gang of orphans and other street rats Baker St Irregulars style, and absorbed into his family structure. any time Foltest puts out a hit on someone with a family, any kids gets adopted into Foltest’s family to show them what real loyalty looks like.
the Scoia’tael are a much older gang, built out of the remnants of old neighbors and the old Aen Seidhe residents of the city, and worked more along the lines of a local militia protecting their neighborhood and running off intruders, until these new gangs started vying for territory, the Temerians and the Nilfgaardians and such. more mutual aid, if not entirely altruistic
bc all of this is heavily inspired by the Irish mob, there’s also a through line of religious discrimination— Roche is fantasy!Catholic and had guiltily buried his mothers practices for the sake of his boss/lover. his patron saint is fantasy!St Jude, saint of lost causes and things despaired of. Foltest is fantasy!Protestant and negligibly that at best, and doesn’t understand all this superstitious nonsense. Iorveth was forced into the equivalent of a residential school and had fantasy!Catholicism ground as salt into his wounds, and is (understandably) bitter about it.
Geralt is a well intentioned cop, working for Emhyr, the chief of police and fighting against a system designed to fuck him over.
Saskia is the bright eyed new District Attorney who’s putting in a bid for mayor of the city, working with the Scoia’tael to clean up the streets, ruining Foltest’s plans, and also still a dragon
this is Mostly Vibes, Partially Plot, but there are some words about it, and more on the back burner bc i fucking love an overly complicated au lol
violence and gun kink snippet:
also this all started bc i put roche in a funny hat and the KM discord took off with it, which is where most of my ideas come from
#the witcher#vernon roche#wip game#iorveth#foltest of temeria#witcher 2#mob boss au#my writing#vernon roche in a funny hat
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13 books tag game
Was tagged by @polarcell! Heeeee~ I'm so glad I've gotten back into reading and can do this happily without struggle!
1) The last book I read:
Infidels by Andrew Wheatcroft. It's mediocre. The research is only strong when it concerns Spain, and everything else is skimmed over heavily. There is a distinct lack of Arab/Muslim sources the further along you go with blatant biases towards the Western pov and the end is absolutely fucking incoherent. Not a complete loss but mostly useless and woefully caught up in the madness that was America post-invasion of Iraq.
2) A book I recommend:
A Natural History of Dragons by Marie Brennan. I recommend it to literally everyone whenever I can, the whole series is so good.
3) A book that I couldn’t put down:
Much to my chagrin, Carry On by Rainbow Rowell. It reads like a fanfic so it flows dangerously fast and I read it all in one sitting. However I don't think it's particularly... good? It's fine, but it's verging on the "empty entertainment" I dislike from fiction books I read.
4) A book I’ve read twice (or more):
Apart from the worst possible answer (I read Prisoner of Azkaban so many times between the ages of nine and fifteen it's basically imprinted on the inside of my skull), I'm going to say The Voyage of the Dawn Treader. It's the first Narnia book I read, and it's still my favourite. I love Reepicheep so much it's stupid.
5) A book on my TBR:
There are so goddamn many Jesus wept. Perhaps Madhouse at the End of the Earth by Julian Sancton. Continue some good old-fashioned Hubris in the Artic/Antartic genre of historical event.
6) A book I’ve put down:
Price and Prejudice. Trying to get a middle schooler to read this was a stupid endeavour and I hated it and did not finish it. Nor do I ever actually want to. It takes a lot for me to actually put down a book and not finish it.
7) A book on my wish list:
The Best Land under Heaven by Michael Wallis. I've yet to read something comprehensive about the Donner Party and this one looks good.
8) A favorite book from childhood:
The Dragon's Quest by Rosemary Manning. I loved how eloquent and charming the dragon was.
9) A book you would give to a friend:
Piranesi by Susanna Clarke. It changed me and I need to pass on the smell of the sea and the feel of salt-stained marble.
10) A book of poetry or lyrics that you own
Literally the only poetry book I own is The Penguin Book of Greek Verse and I've barely touched it. I don't really do poetry.
11) A nonfiction book you own:
How am I supposed to choose? I have so many that I bought for uni and for my own enjoyment. I guess I'll choose The Ethnic Cleansing of Palestine by Ilan Pappé. I have yet to read it because it requires a lot of spoons to read books like this right now, and I used a lot of them up on The Hundred Years' War on Palestine by Rashid Khalidi.
12) What are you currently reading:
Hurdy Gurdy by Christopher Wilson and Same-Sex Marriage in Renaissance Rome by Gary Ferguson. I'm enjoying Hurdy Gurdy so far, I forget how quickly fiction goes compared to non-fiction. Same-Sex Marriage is proceeding apace, but I really should have taken more notes as I read, if I'm going to be writing fic based on it.
13) What are you planning on reading next?
Fuck if I know, I'll just pull something out of the towering pile and get to it. It has to have the right Vibes for the moment, though, and those Vibes are mysterious at best.
Tagging @nightbirdz, @gravity-loves-me, @dangerouscommiesubversive, @maered613, @veradragonjedi, @ctrldao3, @teta-veleta and whoever else wants to do this!
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"One Of Them Tag Games: A Week Late Edition"
Tagged by @synobun !
Last Song: Tomboy Tuesday! By Ham Sandwich (very fun gender vibes, very difficult to follow anime clips)
Favorite Color: pretty much any dark, rich jewel tone, but i tend towards midnight blue and, currently, forest green
Last Movie/Show: technically Sense8 because j and i are watching it with a friend, but last night i got caught up on The Apothecary Diaries and as someone who doesn't like a lot of anime I'm having a great time
Next on My Watchlist: i don't really do watchlists (or tbrs), i generally just follow the dopamine. In all honestly, probably sense8 again next Thursday
Last Game: i play a very dumb color sorting game on my phone to fall asleep. Other than that, i think i played a few hours of bg3 last week.
Last Book (completed): Crescent City House of Earth and Blood by Sarah J Maas (in preparation for House of Flame and Shadow, which came out on Tuesday. I did not make it and my book bestie has been yelling at me lol)
Sweet/Savory/Spicy: i don't really snack anymore? So this question is hard. I used to go for salt above all else but since salt disagrees with me more often than not, i just kind of. Don't. Probably sweet, at the moment. If i had to guess.
Relationship Status: Double Married, as @wasabipesto reminded me last week lol
Last Thing I Searched For Online: the artist for tomboy tuesday. Before that, the symptoms of MCAS (which I've since deemed unlikely that i have)
Current Obsession: still chipping away at the health anxiety, unfortunately. Hoping to replace it with something more pleasant soon though.
Biggest Flaw: also difficult. Every answer ive come up with is just A Disorder That I Have and it feels wrong to just say like. My anxiety (which is currently debilitating and getting expensive) or my inability to maintain any kind of self care or regulation routines (thats just adhd baybee). Plus i don't know that i have anything about myself that i think is outright Bad. Like. The anxiety makes me very good at noticing things, and there are a lot of aspects of my adhd that i actively enjoy. Something something your greatest flaw is also your greatest strength given the right context.
...Yknow what, I'm going with the anxiety actually, because it's turning me into a caged animal in my own body and i feel like I'm watching myself develop ocd in real time. Hate that for me.
Fic I'm Currently Reading: haven't actually read any fic in a while tbh. I think i was on a brief destiel kick a couple weeks ago but it didn't last very long and it was mostly rereads. (For currently reading in general I'm *supposed* to be working on House of Sky and Breath. Progress has been slow.)
Tagging: @wasabipesto , @laboradorescence , @writersblockandapotoftea , @shorter-than-her-tbr-pile , and anyone who feels like playing!
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Find the Word Tag Game
Tagged by @spacetimewraithwrites! TY
Tagging back: @strosmkai-rum @spacetimewraithwrites @wildswrites @tetrodotoxincs @odysseywritings @ayzrules @morganwriteblr @my-writblr @bexminx @writingingraves @dreamwishing @aalinaaaaaa @wardenoftheabyss @pleaseloathemyveryexistence @jaguarthecat @catharticallysarcastic
Your words are: Sarcasm, Loath, Warden, Dream
This is from The MOW Files Novel again. Totally not using these tag games to slowly edit this novel, honest.
Angle
"Gonna be a bumpy ride," Asuka murmured.
"All hail Saint Chris," Gurn said in agreement. "Activating thrusters, lifting off."
With that, Asuka felt the familiar lurch in her gut that indicated they'd left the ground. Her breath quickened, and feeling the swell of excitement and anxiety as though this was her first time. Under Gurn's careful guidance, the ship fought gravity, bucking and swaying with the wind. Vibrations ran through Asuka's hands as Gurn added more and more thrust, until they were shooting at an angle through the cloud layer then out into the space beyond, cerulean peeling away to darkness. She let out a gust of breath, leaning back in her chair to better see the blackness with it's salting of planets and stars. Asuka glanced at Gurn, grinning. He shot her a grin back.
"We have successfully left atmo'," Gurn said, out of procedural habit. "Leaving gravity well of Callisto. Heading: straight on 'till morning."
Ask
"Well, I know the plan. We will be fine. Aren't we always?" Gurn said.
"Sure," Asuka said. She fixed on a smile and rang the doorbell.
It was answered by a large muscled man dressed in a well fitting suit.
"Can I help you?" came a gravelly voice.
"Asuka Rackell," she introduced herself, "and her escort, Gurn Tepper, here to see Dr Grey."
The big guy nodded and stepped back. "You're expected. Please, come in."
The pair entered and stood in the hallway.
"Please wait here. I will go and nform Dr Grey you've arrived."
Asuka smiled. "Of course."
The butler left, and the pair turned their attention to the hallway walls, covered in paintings of all styles.
"You see it?" Asuka asked, and glanced at Gurn.
"No" he murmured, eyes still fixed on the walls.
"Ah my dear Asuka!" came Dr Grey's voice from behind them. "I am so glad you could make it."
"Oh," said Asuka turning. "Dr Grey. We are delighted to be here! I just love all your paintings." She waved a hand at the pictures. "Tell, me are you a collector?"
"I am," Dr Grey said. "But I don't focus on one style or whatnot, simply what I find pleasing."
"I see," said Asuka. "You simply must show them to me." She smiled and delicately placed her hand on his arm. He gave it a glance.
"Of course," Grey said. "When I give you the grand tour. But first, let us eat. You must be hungry." Asuka nodded her agreement.
"Famished," she said, smiling as though there was nothing in her head except lightly perfumed air and rainbow kittens.
Air
The pair gathered their coats as headed towards the exit, in the crowd of other patrons. As they stood outside in the chilly night air Gurn considered how they would get home.
"Can I call you a cab?" he asked gallantly.
"No." Ressa giggled. "But you may try and order me one." She reached for his hand and gave it a small squeeze. "You aren't likely to have much luck though. Cabs tend to stop running around here this late."
"Oh. I had better walk you home then," Gurn said.
Ressa turned to him, placing a hand on his chest.
"That is so sweet of you," she said, "but really not necessary. I can walk myself home just fine."
"It is no problem, really," Gurn said with a shy smile. "I want to."
Alive
[Brianna said,] "Oh and I suppose you're all set with a fantastically cunning plan? A plan so cunning, that if it were alive it would be Professor of Cunning at a university and head of MOW's Special Division of Cunning Planning. And I suppose, that armed with this plan that is so tremendously cunning, all you're waiting for is your precious Asuka to get back? Because if you're still here, then she obviously isn't. So you're waiting before you can fly off into the sunset and perform your stupendously cunning plan. Yes?"
Gurn wasn't sure what to say to that.
Age
"Points of interest include: Three homes, a modest collection of fine art, a large collection of books on finance and the history thereof, a very fine silver and sapphire necklace, and a collection of handwritten journals dating through his adult life." Dakar placed the paper down, and held up the bag. "These are the keys to what we presume are the properties and items therein. We labelled what we could, but I'm sure you'll figure out what the rest are for. And this-" Dakar took hold of a box and set it in the centre of his desk, frowning in perplexment. "This I have no idea about. All I know is that your Father requested I keep it safe for you. He never told me what was it in and I have never opened it. He never specified when I should give it to you, however this seems like an appropriate time, don't you think?" Dakar took off his glasses and leant back in his chair.
"Huh," Asuka said, examining it. The box was the size of a hardback book, rectangular with rounded corners, and made out of a wood she didn't recognise. It was old, covered with the distinct patina of age. There were no markings beside a brass key hole. Asuka glanced up to see Dakar thumbing through sets of keys.
"There doesn't seem to be anything to open it with here," he said.
"I know," Asuka murmured, as she recalled her eighteenth birthday. Her father had taken her out to dinner, and presented her with a small box. On opening it, Asuka had found a little key on a silver chain. At the time she had been disappointed, but her Father said it was very important. He had been so insistent she wear it, Asuka had not removed it in seven years. Now she undid the necklace clasp. The key slotted perfectly into its lock, the sound of unused tumblers clicking as she turned it. With a glance at Dakar, Asuka lifted the lid.
#writing#tag game#find the word game#wip excerpt#wip 'The MOW Files Novel'#wandering words#oc ressa silverstine#oc gurn tepper#oc charles dakar#oc brianna sahrez#oc asuka rackell#oc dr matherson grey
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Ask Game: thots on Danielle?
Oooh alrighty let's see
Favorite thing about them: I'm a sucker for clone/artificial genetic copy stories and the potential that comes with them, Dani being the latter 'cause she's clearly not identical.
Least Favorite thing about them: She's, ah- not all that interesting. I feel like the concept was wasted 'cause she felt like an excuse to implement "Danny Phantom... but GIRL" with everything else being a means to that end. She felt really bare-minimum in terms of making an imperfect clone character.
Fanon Pet Peeve: I guess a similar deal? Most people seem to really like Dani, so they give her very similar treatment and characterization to canon. There are exceptions, but a lotta the time she just doesn’t feel like a character that can exist without Danny there to pick up the slack.
#DP#Dani Phantom#Salt Station#Idk the concept she represents is really cool but she herself falls kinda flat for me#I suppose all answers for this game will get the salt tag#Should I even tag the characters? Would these be considered impolite? I got no clue#I'll tag them for now for the sake of organization on the blog but like. Feel free to ask me to remove the tag I guess
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Until It Feels Like You’re In Heaven — Jeon Wonwoo
request: Hello do you still take requests? Your writing is amazingggg!! Thank you for existing 😭💕. Can i req a whipped dom!wonwoo x fem reader where he has a size kink and a smol gf please? I think that will be a cute concept 🥺
tags: fem and sub!reader, dom!wonwoo, size kink, tattoed and pierced jeon wonwoo just because, oral (m receiving), unprotected sex (uh idk why but I never write sex with a condom help), established wonwoo x reader, a tiiiny bit of spitting kink, very light verbal humiliation, aftercare, this goes from fluff to horny really quickly, fluff if you squint (or not?), a frankly unrealistic amount of cum, OH AND, stomach bulge 🥴
a/n: so haha I am back? with more filth? I tried adding fluff (even tho I completely forgot that the person who made the request asked for whipped wonwoo, good thing this is always in my agenda every time I write so I didn't have any problems lmfao) but I'm too much of a horny bitch and a simp for this man so,, idk? tell me what you think later! I hope you all perish— I mean, like this!
Word Count: 7826
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“Aren’t you going to help?” you question, lifting a brow at your boyfriend, who’s currently sitting in one of the chairs and supporting his chin with the palm of his hand, plate of onions that should be already cut laying untouched in front of him.
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“Nope,” Wonwoo answers, giving you that kind of smile which makes you almost, almost feel less annoyed at the fact that you’ve been trying to reach something in the upper shelves for the last five minutes and he doesn’t move his ass to help you at all. “You’re just too cute trying to reach something.”
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There’s heat creeping up your neck, cheeks tinting red, and Wonwoo's smile gets bigger, shining and full of fondness. It leaves you stunned in silence for a while. It’s hard not to be in love with him. But it’s not like you try anyways.
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“J-just hurry up, aren’t you hungry?” you cough, looking away solely because you can’t stand the warmness in Wonwoo’s face without feeling like you’re going to combust any time soon.
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“I am. I can help you out,” he states simply, but doesn’t make a move. You gesticulate with your hand, pointing at him and at the rice jar in the upper shelf. “But only if you say please, though.”
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“I’m—” laughing incredulously, you roll your eyes and cross your arms over your chest. “Would you please get the rice jar for me, sir?”
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Wonwoo stares at you for a second too long, eyes a bit dark, and gets up to get the jar, without breaking eye contact. You instinctively make yourself smaller when his bigger and broader frame hovers over you, large enough to swallow your tiny body. The size difference has always been something you both feel incredibly turned on by.
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“So small,” he appreciates, always does, and your neck burns from the intensity of your blushing. “The cutest.”
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Wonwoo puts the rice jar in your hands, the darkness in his face melting into a beam.
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“Here it goes, little girl,” he says, going back to his chair to complete the task which he has been doing for at least ten minutes now. The way he says little girl has you dumbfounded, heart hammering against your chest. “Are you just going to stand there? Do you like being called little that much?”
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“Shut up,” you admonish, blushing furiously as you turn on your back to continue what you were doing. You just hate how everything Wonwoo does affects you so much. You’re sure this must be bad for your health.
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The two of you continue your journey through cooking and eating after you’re both done with the preparations. Things with Wonwoo are always so easy, everything feels natural and domestic and the bubbling feeling of happiness you feel whenever you’re with him lulls you to fall in love with him even deeper than before.
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The way he teases you when you’re clumsy and spill sauce over yourself, but still cleans you up with the most fond smile ever, like you’re so completely adorable he can’t help himself. Or when you put more salt in the food than you should and you know it’s not that good, but he still compliments it and tells you he loves it so much, the sincerity in his eyes makes a surge of something pull at your lower stomach.
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If Jeon Wonwoo isn’t the love of your life, you don’t know who is.
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But right now you just want the ground to eat you alive and swallow you whole, because you’re standing right in front of the bed. The one bed. To which it suddenly doesn’t look big enough, not as you remember.
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Well, it’s not like you have never shared a bed before, you have even had a shit ton of sex in this exact piece of mattress, but the thing is, it’s been a while since you last saw Wonwoo. His job required him to spend three months away, and this is the first time you came to his house ever since he came back two days ago.
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You consider throwing yourself out of the window and into the dark, miserable night, thinks your poor heart will explode otherwise.
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“I’m not going to eat you.” Wonwoo’s voice carries over from the bathroom door, startling you into action. You jerk toward the bed, jumping on it and face flushing. You had showered before him, now dressed with one of his big shirts.
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It fell all the way to your mid thigh, the size difference between the two of you making you almost drown on the fabric of his clothes. It smells nice, smells like Wonwoo, and your cheeks burn when he drinks the sight of you in with dark eyes, not even trying to hide.
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“Unless you want me to,” he adds, not helping your situation at all.
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BSHANDJAJSND?, your brain supplies.
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“Oh my god,” you admonish, yanking the blanket off the bed and just as you get in, your eyes hone in on the ink swirling up Wonwoo’s right biceps. You have seen the tattoo through the pictures he sent you before, the snake crawling up to his shoulder, head stopping at his right chest.
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This is, however, the first time you’ve seen the metal bar through one of Wonwoo’s nipples — to which you already knew the existence of, but looking in person is totally different —, heat winding in the pit of your belly as you realize the snake is looking right at that same nipple. Unfortunately for your poor heart, he’s wearing nothing but a pair of sweats, hanging low on his hips, slim waist on display.
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Wonwoo is… hot.
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There’s no other way to put it despite your best efforts. He looks like one of those Greek statues, rippling muscle and hand carved abs, the cut of his jaw too sharp to be real. Your mouth waters and you can’t look away.
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And Wonwoo has been changing. He always had the thin type of body, being slim and tall, but in the end of last year he started exchanging the lazy hours he spent gaming with animated workouts at the gym — something about the way he was wasting his precious time of life and he could be acquiring knowledge and being healthy instead of sitting in front of a computer for hours —, and holy fuck if the result wasn’t quite the damn view.
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You draw the blanket right up to your chin, back very purposefully to Wonwoo’s side of the bed as you’re still trying to stop the mild heart attack you have going on. You don’t want to see him climbing into bed for safety purposes but that doesn’t mean your heart rate doesn’t spike up when the bed dips. When Wonwoo settles down under the same blanket, your brain very enthusiastically — and meaningfully — points out that you’re only a few centimeters away and that there’s nothing separating you.
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His abs flash behind your eyes and you nearly throw the blanket off, ready to storm out of the room and sleep on the sofa instead. You let out a breath you don’t even know you’re holding when Wonwoo flicks the flight off, the room disappearing into darkness, before he turns on the red leds from under his bed.
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You feel warm all over with the fact that he still remembers you don’t like sleeping in complete darkness.
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You try not to tense too much when he drapes an arm around your waist, locking you in. Your legs tangle together as he adjusts himself better, the other arm coming behind your head to serve as a pillow. Now you’re not only dying from the closeness but as well essentially drooling over the bulge of his thick biceps.
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Congratulations universe for managing to make you even more desperate.
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You’re not sure how long you just lie there, staring out the window, unable to fall asleep. Your brain doesn’t want to shut off, a blaring alarm of Jeon Wonwoo going off in your head.
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“I missed you so much,” Wonwoo says as if he read your thoughts, voice soft and filled with warmth, and you find yourself immediately melting in his arms despite your nervousness. “Thought I was going crazy without you, munchkin.”
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There’s a hard squeeze in your heart. You just love so much when he calls you that.
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“Missed you too,” you admit with a smile, the tip of Wonwoo’s nose dragging through your hair as he inhales the smell of his own shampoo. “Missed your smell.”
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“Just my smell?” Wonwoo teases with a light tone, caressing his free hand on your inner thigh. It was supposed to be a feather-like gesture, but the closeness between the two of you made your body oversensitive, and you find yourself moaning softly as your skin rocks with a shiver.
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Wonwoo tenses immediately when he hears the sound, hand stuttering to a stop. There’s a beat of what you call the most painful silence you ever had — your mind swirls with the thought that you just ruined the mood, face heating up uncontrollably at your own neediness —, before his fingers sink into the flesh of your inner thigh, startling you with the strength behind his grip.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
“Answer me.”
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
You whine louder this time, the realization of his change of tone going from fond to an irrevocable order sinking wanton deep within your lower stomach. You try to close your legs, but Wonwoo’s leg stops you where it rests right in the middle of them, dangerously close to your throbbing core. You wonder if he could feel the heat emanating from it.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
“N-no,” you begin, voice already shaken up. Wonwoo’s breath caresses the helix of your ear, making goosebumps surge all over your skin. “Missed y-your bed too.”
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
“Is that so?” he hums, chest vibrating where it presses against your back. “What else, munchkin?”
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
“Missed—” your voice gets caught up in your throat when he licks your helix, teeth pulling the lobe of your ear. The soft drag of his lips all over that place is making your job difficult. “M-missed all of you, hmmm.”
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
Wonwoo hums again, pleased with your answer, and leans so close to you your body gets half pinned to the bed. This way his bigger frame completely engulfs your smaller one, the difference between your sizes getting even more overwhelming now that he’s bulked up.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
And you’re not the only one affected by it, because as soon as Wonwoo realizes how he almost swallows you up in this position, he downright moans right by your ear.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
“So fucking small,” he tells you appreciatevely, voice one octave lower as his fingers presses on your inner thigh harder. “Missed touching you.”
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
There’s a shift in Wonwoo, his leg rising up between yours and stopping centimeters away from the heat of your cunt, and you can’t hold back the shiver, wants Wonwoo to press down there. When you attempt to slide Wonwoo’s hand up and off of you so then you could turn around, you’re met with a growl instead, Wonwoo bodily pinning you to the bed.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
“Where do you think you’re going?” he asks, and it makes you feel like you’re a prey just ready to be caught by the big, bad wolf. You whine softly at that thought, hand coming to grab at Wonwoo’s wrist reflexively.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
“Wonwoo,” is your answer, like that would explain everything. Wonwoo chuckles softly, embarrassment burning on your cheeks.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
“When we called and I saw your face,” he says, barely above a whisper. “I wanted to fuck you so bad.”
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
Suddenly, you can’t remember how to breathe, Wonwoo’s mouth on your neck, planting a soft kiss just under your ear. He nuzzles into the same spot, kisses lower and your heart shakes loud enough you think the neighbors might hear, hyperaware of every inch of your bodies touching.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
“I know I couldn’t, so I did it all from behind,” Wonwoo admits, sending your mind into a little haze. Of course he has been jerking off to the thought of you, but hearing him say it out loud has your panties getting soaked. “Sticking my dick in…”
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
Wonwoo hasn’t stopped nuzzling you, in some kind of daze as he inhales your scent. There’s a hand on your hip now, holding you down, liquid heat pooling in your belly, spreading outward.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
“…and fucking you mercilessly…” he continues, voice getting deeper and rougher with each word, his breath labored. “…and watching you cum endlessly… I thought I would be fine just imagining it.”
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
“W-Won—” you start, breathless, the sound of your own voice sounding so airy leaving you embarrassed. But then finally, finally he presses his thigh into your core, your hips immediately going down to rut hard against the muscle.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
“Fucking drenched,” Wonwoo snarls lowly when he feels the wetness of your soaked panties dirtying the fabric of his sweatpants.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
The sound makes you writhe on the bed, fists balling in the mattress.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
“But seeing you, so small…” the trace of Wonwoo’s hand in your skin is light, almost like a gentle whisper as it makes a burning path up, up, up until it stops by your neck, fingers closing softly around your throat. “Makes me want to rail you, carve the shape of my big cock inside your walls.”
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
Wonwoo’s teeth sink into the skin just at the base of your neck. It’s hardly a bite, you know he could leave worse, but then Wonwoo laps at it afterwards, tender, surrenders you into moving your hips obscenely on his thigh. The way he says, knows his cock is big has heat licking your insides, and if it were anyone else saying the same thing you would be cringed, but there’s just something special about Jeon Wonwoo doing this that makes him look like the hottest man alive.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
“You’re addicting,” Wonwoo admits with a growl, the feeling of his touch turning possessive as he helps you ride his thigh better by a hand on your waist. “Once I get a taste I can’t stop myself from wanting more. Wanna have my way with you until you’re all mine.”
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
Need seeps through your bones, body trembling as you try to scatter the air it has been knocked out of your lungs when Wonwoo fits his cock in the curve of your ass.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
“Y-you’re hard,” you comment, as if it’s not obvious, but it has been so long since the last time you felt his bulge pressing against you that it makes you desperate. “You’re so hard.”
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
“Who’s fault do you think it is?” Wonwoo questions, groaning when you sway your hips from side to side on his cock.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
“Can we…” you trail off, hiding your face in the pillow. “Y-you know?”
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
“Nope, you gotta be more specific,” he says with a teasing smile, and you smack him in the arm. Wonwoo laughs before his voice gets serious. “Say it.”
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
This switch of him turning on and off between a sweet boyfriend to the man who doms you never fails to give you a whiplash.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
“Can we— Can w-we fuck?” you ask shyly, wanting the ground to swallow you whole. You have no idea why you are being this shy.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
“Hmm, it depends,” Wonwoo hums like he’s considering the options. You turn to look at him, mortified, but he only laughs at your indignation. “Are you going to be a good girl for me?”
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
You blush furiously at the question, face turning to look away as you mumble a yes, but then Wonwoo’s grabbing at your jaw and yanking your head back in place until you’re staring right in the deepness of his eyes, the intensity of them stunting you into complete silence.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
“Look at me when I’m talking to you,” he orders, leaving no room for arguments, and you nod your head quickly at that. “Out loud.”
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
“Y-yes,” you hurry to obey, watching satisfaction curl all over his face. “‘M always a good girl.”
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
“I don’t think so, munchkin,” Wonwoo grins, wicked and teasing, and you brace yourself for whatever is going to happen this night. “Sometimes you’re so desperate and impatient you can’t even wait for me before fucking yourself with those plastic toys of yours.”
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
“Wonwoo,” and you’re unable to look away even when shame burns all over your body. “H-how did you—”
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
“How did I know?” your sentence morphs into a moan when Wonwoo presses his thigh so hard against you cunt it has your body jumping a little. “You think I wouldn’t feel how you’re more loose when I fucked you? You think I don’t notice the way you look at me?”
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
Wonwoo is mercilessly dragging your hips up and down his leg, your whines sounding high and sweet in your own ears.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
“You’re oblivious even to yourself,” he tells you, tone rough as he ruts against your ass. Your heart lurches in your chest, Wonwoo’s words like a hot coal in the pit of your belly, erupting into flames. You want to squeeze your eyes shut, cunt pulsing with arousal. “Even today, the way you were staring at me…”
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
But then, Wonwoo’s touch is gone. His hands leave your hips, thigh frees you from the pressure, and the warmth seems so far now. You turn, complaint already at the tip of your tongue, but Wonwoo’s faster, rougher as he manhandles you on your back and hovers over your body, caging you in with his arms.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
“You looked like a prey who has just been caught into the wolf’s den,” he smiles at you, wicked and cruel as he grabs your jaw and pushes your head back. “Like you wanted me to break you in until it feels like you’re in heaven.”
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
There��s a breath against your bare neck, his groan hitting your skin when he bites it.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
“Or eat you up until there’s nothing left in you that doesn’t belong to me,” you’re definitely not expecting the moan that escapes Wonwoo’s mouth, so affected and deep it’s got all the hairs in your nape standing up, every fiber of your body telling you to submit. “Fuck, and it turns me on so much.”
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
You make a sound out of neediness, hands reaching for Wonwoo. He goes easily, body pressing into yours as he crashes your lips together. Wonwoo kisses you like he wants to conquer you, licking into the seam of your mouth and teeth scraping at your bottom lip just so he could soothe the pain later with his tongue. Your head spins with the intensity of it, it’s messy and there’s too much spit and teeth, but that only makes it even more addicting.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
But Wonwoo doesn’t kiss you enough today. He almost never does when he’s feeling like that — possessive, mean, wicked even, when he needs you to know your damn place —, wants to ebb the pleasure away when you’re starting to get hotter until it’s replaced by pure desperation and you can’t do anything else other than beg for him to give in to you.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
So that’s what you do, staring up at his eyes trained on you as if you’re a prey.⠀
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
“Please,” you start, voice caught into a moan when Wonwoo’s fingers sink into your jaw and his mouth falls ajar, like the sound of you saying this particular word gives a physical stroke to his cock. “P-please, fuck me. Wanna— Wanna belong t-to you.”
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
And that’s enough. That’s enough, that’s enough, Wonwoo wants, you want, and he’ll give that to you since he has always been a weak man for your begging. There’s a fraction of seconds that he thinks he might pass out with all the blood rushing from his head to his other head, cock throbbing in his sweatpants.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
“Don’t know how so much eagerness fits into this little body of yours,” Wonwoo murmurs against your mouth, his hand squeezing your face. You find yourself parting your mouth open, whining, pliant and overwhelmed as Wonwoo slips his tongue in again, kissing you filthy. The scent of his familiar cologne is so sharp, surrounding you and leaving your mind dazed until all you can think is Wonwoo, Wonwoo, Wonwoo. When he pulls back this time, Wonwoo pushes his thumb into your mouth, eyes half-lidded as he watches you swirl your tongue around it, sucking it further into your mouth.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
You moan around it, watching Wonwoo’s every reaction, the way his breath hitches, shoulders tensing. There’s a shift on the bed, Wonwoo moving up and up and up and you can’t breathe because now the bulge pressing against the fabric of his clothes is standing proudly right in front of your face, Wonwoo almost straddling your chest. You let the realization that he’s going to fuck your mouth sink deep within your core, and try not to show how deeply affected you are by the idea.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
You fail, of course, hips lifting off of the bed and falling down again, biting around the finger inside of your mouth that keeps you from taking a better look in the place you are dying to see.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
“That desperate to suck me off, baby?” Wonwoo asks, and you flush, hate how you love the humiliated burn, how it makes you wetter. You’re too embarrassed to throw something back at Wonwoo, gaze dropping to his erect cock the best you can. He pushes your head back up, making you look at him instead. “Do you wanna see it?”
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
“I do,” you reply, a little too fast for your own good, and it only serves for Wonwoo to laugh at your neediness. You debate if you’re as red as you think you are, the burn in your cheeks spreading all the way down to your neck.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
“Are you sure you’re ready for that?” Wonwoo’s tone is almost condescending, still playful, like he doesn’t think you can even handle the sight of his cock, and you like how it makes your cunt twitch and ache. It’s as if you enjoy the belittlement, enjoy the way Wonwoo wants you to prove yourself.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
“I’m,” you start, swallowing, “I’m ready.”
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
Wonwoo’s smile is a touch dark, nearly a sneer, but his hand leaves your mouth to hook a thumb in the waistband of his pants. You nearly drool. He pulls on the fabric until his cock is free, slapping against your left cheek and smearing precum on your face. Your head spins, realising that even this part of Wonwoo’s body seemed to have grown bigger. Maybe it’s your imagination, haven’t actually seen it in real life for the past three months, but the thickness is intimidating.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
The best intimidating possible.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
Your heart thuds in your chest, unable to look away from his cock. There’s spit collecting on your tongue, embarrassment fighting against your desire to please. Leaning forward, you suckle the tip into your mouth, making a pleased sound when you taste the salty tang of precum.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
Wonwoo leans back a bit, wanting to assess your face better, and the taut lines of his body contorts in an even hotter way with the new position. You moan again, staring at the piercing in Wonwoo’s nipple and the head of the inked snake looking at it, and sucks on the head, tongue pushing along the underside. Your body throbs with your own heated desire.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
You wrap a hand around the base, gut twisting hotly when you realise you can’t even get your fingers all the way around — no matter how many times you notice this, they all make you feel equally needy. And you’re not the only one affected by it, Wonwoo’s hips kicking forward and cock thrusting inside of your mouth, the growl he lets out going straight to your core.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
“Fuck,” he says, breath audible enough to echo inside the room. “I will ruin you.”
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
The confession has your body arching for a few seconds, sucking hard on the tip of Wonwoo’s cock until he’s moaning at the feeling. He takes a fistful of your hair, but you push against the hold so you could take more of it into your mouth.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
“Quit it,” Wonwoo demands, your displeased whine making his hold grow firmer. “Do as you’re told or you might not get my cock at all tonight.”
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
He pulls you off, your pants loud and labored.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
“Did I make myself clear?”
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
“Yes, sir,” you add just for the teasing — but mostly because you want Wonwoo to punish you for making him lose his beloved control —, feeling pleased as you watch the clear change of expressions going on in Wonwoo’s face. His eyes darken impossibly more, eyebrows frowning and then there’s a hand on your neck.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
Your mouth goes dry as soon as his fingers close around your throat, body writhing and mind going into submission mode.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
“Filthy little slut,” Wonwoo snarls, face suddenly close, and then he’s spitting into your open mouth and you feel like you will come very soon. You flinch, eyes shutting on reflex, and then moan. “Want me to punish you, don’t you?”
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
You don’t say anything, can’t say anything, but you hope the look in your eyes answers his question. It probably does, because there’s a tiny little smirk playing on the edge of Wonwoo’s lips before he kisses you, softer than you could ever imagine he would be in this moment.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
“I love you,” he breathes, the sudden confession making a different kind of burn itch your throat. You know very well that when Wonwoo tells you that I’m the middle of sex then it’s because this will be a passionate fucking. One of those that he keeps your body so close you think you might become one with him, one of those he kisses you so gently one moment only to treat you roughly in the other, one of those he wants to make you fall apart, crumble and cry and even so, it will be full of love and care and sweetness. “I love you so much.”
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
Wonwoo doesn’t wait for your answer. Doesn’t need to, he knows your heart belongs to him.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
“Say ah for me, sweetheart,” Wonwoo instructs and you obey, mouth hanging open, tongue out. Wonwoo slaps his cock against it, precum dirtying your tongue as the slap slap slap of his cock hitting your mouth fills the heavy air of the room. He even traces the tip over your upper lip, smearing precum along your cheek when he slaps your face with it before placing his cock right back on your waiting tongue. “Put this mouth to better use.”
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
You do, eager to do as you’re told after Wonwoo’s confession, blood singing from his praise and his disparagement alike. You sink down onto it as far as you can take it, nearly gagging when it hits the back of your throat. Wonwoo drowns out a broken “fuck” above you, stroking your cheek and moving further in the bed to lessen the awkward twist of your neck.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
“You look so good with my cock in your mouth,” Wonwoo breathes, voice strained as you suck him off, head bobbing. He brushes your hair back, little groans and growls escaping him every time his cock hits the back of your throat, you swallowing around it, or when you speed up, fucking your mouth on Wonwoo’s length. “Such a pretty little cocksucker, aren’t you, sweetheart?”
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
You blush, heart hammering in your chest with the compliment, but he closes a fist in your hair and makes you stop all movements.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
“Gonna fuck your mouth,” Wonwoo starts, holding your wrist with his free hand and putting your fingers above his thigh. You know that it means if you want me to stop, tap twice, and it makes heat coil in your belly. “until you gag.”
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
You moan a bit uncontrollably around his cock, legs kicking in the bed at the affirmation, and Wonwoo is staring at you with a look you can’t quite describe. It makes you ashamed of being so eager but at the same time proud of being his little cockslut.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
Wonwoo holds you in place, hips bucking into your mouth. He goes slow at first, wanting you to get used with the feeling because it has been a while since the last time you sucked him off. It is short lived, as soon as you look up at him and nod — the best you could with your movements being kind of restricted —, his thrusts turn sharp and fast, your jaw aching from how long you had Wonwoo’s fat cock in your mouth.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
You moan, one of your hands still working up and down along Wonwoo’s shaft as he fucks into you, tears beginning to prickle at the corners of your eyes. He falls a bit forward when you start gagging a little, throat convulsing around his thickness, and he sprawls his fingers in the wall for support.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
“Fuck fuck fuck, shit,” Wonwoo breathes, voice gravelly, his grip in your hair getting tighter and tighter. Tingles spark down your spine, wetness pouring out of you and soaking your panties even more and you want so desperately to come, to be fucked, but you want to please him first.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
Wonwoo’s thrusts begin to turn erratic as he fucks your mouth, a growl erupting out of him on a particularly hard thrust, and then he’s pulling away. You look at him, mind in a haze, but still dumbfounded. His breath is labored and he looks like he’s having a hard time keeping together, hips thrusting into the air. It boosts your ego to see him this messed up because of you.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
“Did so well for me, sweetheart,” Wonwoo tells you, voice strained from effort but still full of fondness, and you feel butterflies dancing in your stomach at the praise. It seems like he wants his orgasm to ebb away. At the look you’re giving him, he adds: “Wanna cum with you.”
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
You mewl at the thought, watching him position himself between your legs again and kissing you slowly. Wonwoo caresses your cheek with a gentle thumb, other hand tracing a feather-like path down your body. His fingers brush against your nipple, the whine you let out being swallowed by Wonwoo’s greedy mouth, and he sneaks his hand under your shirt just as his kisses fly to your neck.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
And then Wonwoo’s sucking. Hard.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
It caughts you off guard, hips lifting off of the bed and thigh pressing tightly against Wonwoo’s cock, his groan being muffled by your skin. He bites, suckles and kisses the particular spot underneath your jaw, so far up your neck you won’t be able to hide it, especially because it’s summer. And you feel warm all over, how he always remembers exactly your pleasure point, the place that has your head spinning with pleasure.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
Your hands fly to his hair, cunt throbbing with need when he tongues at the purple hickey, and it’s throbbing, pulsating with how hard he sucked. It leaves you breathless, not having time to recover when Wonwoo pulls your shirt up until he can get one nipple into his mouth.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
“Wonwon, fuck,” you whimper, body oversensitive with all that has been going on, and Wonwoo growls at the nickname, hand coming to pinch your other nipple like he’s telling you how much this affects him. “Please—”
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
Wonwoo bites at it, tongue coming to soothe the pain later, and you’re sure the grip you have on his hair must be painful, but he says nothing; only looks more intent on making you moan. Wonwoo busies himself with sucking hickeys all over the place as one of his hands continues to descend down your body, thumb pressing in a spot by your hips that has your back arching and a desperate whine being pulled out of you.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
Down and down, his fingers then slips inside your penties, brushing across your clit so lightly that it has your whole body rocking with shivers.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
But then, Wonwoo’s body goes completely still. You feel him tensing under your palms, heat already flooding your face when you know he feels it, feels the way you’re already stretched open for him.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
“You—” he starts but stops himself, pushing a finger inside for great measure. Wonwoo growls when he meets almost no resistance, face lifting from where it rests on your chest to look at you. “When?”
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
The intensity of his voice leaves your mouth dry.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
“E-earlier, in the— in the s-shower,” you confess, voice quiet, and you can’t look away, Wonwoo’s eyes pinning you to your spot.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
“Hah,” he states simply, a sound of pleasant surprise, and adds another finger inside. Wonwoo pushes them to the hilt, until his knuckles brush your pelvis. You moan, head thrown back at the sudden, but welcomed intrusion. “Acting all nervous around me but this is exactly what you wanted, isn’t it?”
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
He gyrates his hand, pushing hard and without mercy, right before he adds another finger, this time more slowly. It burns a little, his fingers way bigger than yours, but you love the slight pain.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
“Did you come into my house knowing I would fuck you?” Wonwoo asks, knows the answers but does it anyway. He moves his hand a little, waiting for your to be more comfortable with the sensation of his fingers, but as soon as your frown turns upside down, Wonwoo has no restrains whatsoever, fucking into you fast and sharp. “Fingered yourself knowing that I would split you open on my big cock?”
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
You can’t even think straight, hips rising off of the bed, but Wonwoo holds your waist with his free hand and pins them down hard. Your upper body lifts with this, back arching and legs kicking everywhere as you can’t stop the loud moans slipping through your lips, doesn’t even care about the neighbors as your nails sink into Wonwoo’s back to the point it might leave tiny crescent moons all over it.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
“Did you come back then?” Wonwoo continues, pace unforgiving even when tears well up into your eyes. He trusts you to use your safeword if needed as much as you trust him to use his. “Did you?”
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
You struggle to answer, voice being surrendered to moans and whines and whimpers and it’s hard to focus when he’s hitting your sweet spot with the tip of his fingers.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
“Ah! Ah, hmmm, f-fuck, please Won— Wonwon,” you try, can’t even understand how you still manage to get red when you realise Wonwoo is looking at you with so much desire. The point you both most like about your relationship is that Wonwoo is the dom, but he knows you have him in the palm of your tiny hands. “I, ah, d-din’t. Di— Didn’t want to, fuck, please— c-come without you—”
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
Wonwoo pulls his fingers out at that, your cunt clenching around nothing as he goes lighting fast to take both of your clothes off, grab your waist and flip you on your stomach just as he reaches for the nightstand to grab what you know very well it’s a bottle of lube. He pulls your hips up until you’re face down, ass up on the bed, the hurry in all of this only sending desperation all over your body, and the sound of the cap being opened has butterflies in your stomach.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
“Yeah? Fuck,” Wonwoo sounds a mess, fingers hurrying to close a fist on his cock and jerk it off furiously to spread the lube better, the wet head nudging against your rim. “Fuck, shit, I wanna fuck you so bad.”
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
“Do it,” you beg. “Please.”
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
And who is he to deny what you want?
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
Wonwoo pushes inside you slowly despite his hunger, knows he’s big and there’s an alarming size difference between the both of you.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
Your hands clench into fists and it feels like you’re being impaled onto Wonwoo’s cock, going deeper than any cock you ever taken before. Tears cling to your lashes as a small jolt of pain runs up your spine, the lube easing Wonwoo’s way in. Overall you’re proud of yourself, haven taken him before, more times than you can count, and you accommodate his cock like a pro.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
Your chest heaves, no amount of air feels like enough as Wonwoo’s cock all but punches everything out of you. You’re biting at the pillow by the time the last of it pushes into you, a haze surrounding your mind because it feels so good.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
Wonwoo’s groan transforms into a moan once he’s buried all the way into you, hips flush against your ass and spreading you open so wide and so deep, you would think you might break if you didn’t know any better. You gasp, back arching downward as you take your time to adjust to the large intrusion.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
Wonwoo kisses your shoulder tenderly, waiting for you to grow used to the feeling. He can be rough when it comes to bed, but he always is mindful of you no matter how impatient and desperate he is. There’s this soft feeling going on inside you, mixing with your pleasure and it only serves to make you more needy.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
Wonwoo doesn’t move for a while, hot breath falling against your neck as he stands behind you. You feel surrounded — his scent everywhere, the pulse of the hickeys he carved on your skin, the press of his long fingers on your waist —, your submission for Wonwoo’s eyes only.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
You nod at him.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
A lick at your neck is all the warning you get before Wonwoo pulls out so very slowly, cock dragging against your walls and rim. It feels like forever, you whining at the sensation, and then you’re being slammed back into.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
“Ah!” you gasp, eyes blurry as you struggle for air. You moan as Wonwoo drags himself back out again, and thrusts right back in and groans at the feeling. “Y-yes—”
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
“So good,” Wonwoo growls, close to inhumane as he continues with that pace. “So fucking good.”
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
Eventually, Wonwoo doesn’t seem to be able to go slow anymore, thrusts turning sharper and harder, his pace unrelenting. You find yourself almost screaming through it, so overwhelmed by the size of him — a good overwhelmed, the best overwhelmed —, but the way you feel so full and the exponential pleasure leaves you numb to any other thought.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
Wonwoo, Wonwoo, Wonwoo, your mind seems to chant, fucked open mercilessly by your boyfriend.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
“Taking cock like a pro, aren’t you, sweetheart?” Wonwoo says, stops for a second, adjusts his hips, and then slams back right into your sweet spot, like he knows where it is by heart. Your body lurches forward, bed slamming against the wall. Hands reaching to hold onto something, you scramble against the sheats until one of them fists it and the other holds the pillow for dear life. “You’re gonna wake the whole hall, screaming like that.”
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
You have enough of a decency to feel ashamed about it, but it’s not like neither of you actually care. If anything, Wonwoo fucks you harder, hips jamming inside you until your throat hurts from all the noises you’re making.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
“Please, p-please— I wanna— I h-have to— Fuck, ah!” you’re not even sure about what you’re begging for, Wonwoo pulling your hips to meet his thrusts half way. You love this, feeling like a ragdoll, being thrown around and only able to take what he gives to you.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
“Good little girl,” Wonwoo croons, his voice rough. Your skin glistens with sweat, the shimmering red light reflecting on it. “Looking so beautiful taking my cock.”
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
You’re not sure what compels you after he says that but you reach down, hand smoothing down your abdomen because you feel like Wonwoo is spearing you open. But you go completely tense, squeezing Wonwoo so hard he stutters with a moan, because under your palm there is the outline of his cock protruding against your lower belly. The feeling makes you so overwhelmed that you can’t hold it in, whithe pleasure flooding you as you end up coming, eyes rolling to the back of your head and you’re crying all the way through it.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
“You’re coming?” Wonwoo deadpans, sounding surprised and angry at the same time. “Holy shit, you’re coming untouched and without my permission? What were you think—”
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
Wonwoo’s complaint immediately dies down when you bring a trembling hand to grab his wrist and put his fingers in the cause of your orgasm. There’s a beat of silence, the both of you completely still, and then Wonwoo is growling the most animalistic growl you ever heard him do, the sheer intensity of it rocking all the way to your bones. He presses his hips so tightly into yours it has you sobbing.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
“Fuck,” it’s all he says, tone two octaves lower and sounding dangerous, doesn’t even have it in him to punish you. “Fuck.”
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
It’s like the caged beast he keeps so carefully locked deep within himself started to surface. Wonwoo pushes your head down on the mattress, the other hand still on your belly. He pulls out until the tip and then slams back inside, as hard as he can, and you downright scream at the feeling, the oversensitiviness adding up to your pleasure.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
There’s another few seconds of silence, and then Wonwoo is fucking you brutally. His moans echo through the room, so completely desperate that it has you wailing, sobbing, crying desperate pleas for more.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
“Look at that,” Wonwoo says, hand pressing harder against the bulge in your stomach. “Pushed my big cock into you until your insides were forced to make room for it.”
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
He grabs your arm and yanks you up, your back pressing against his chest and an arm circling around your waist. The other comes up to squeeze your left breast as you practically sit on his thighs. You moan at the feeling of his pierced nipple dragging against your skin every time he fucks up into you, your body only held in place because of the firm grip Wonwoo has on you.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
Sobbing, you feel like you’re losing yourself in the sensations, Wonwoo’s cock pounding into your cunt and his voice by your ear and the burn of his hips hitting your ass — by now it must be all red, the marks probably going to linger for some time. You can’t hold yourself together anymore, mouth open and drooling, tears clinging to your lashes, staccato moans falling from your lips that break on every thrust. You’re limp against Wonwoo, can’t even fuck back, letting him have his way with you.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
“Drooling all over yourself for my cock,” Wonwoo says, fucks in deep against your sweet spot and mouths at the side of your neck. “Because of me, right? Tell me.”
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“Y-you— yours, yours, please,” your head falls back on his shoulder, hand pressing tightly in the shape of his cock in your stomach, and at this point you don’t even know what you’re doing anymore.
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“I’ve broken you in, fuck.”
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And he did, really. He has broken you in, has you crying on his cock.
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“You belong to who?” Wonwoo pressed his hips flush on your ass, grinds hard enough for your body to be sent forward. A short few seconds so you can take a breath — or at least try to. “Hm? Who’s fucking you this good?”
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
“W-Wonwoo, Wonwon, you, please,” you cry out as he starts to fuck you mercilessly again, the brutal pace punching moans out of you. “Ah, ah, ah, p-please, haaah, I’m y-yours— yours, b-belong to, hmmm, to you only, please!”
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
“Yeah,” Wonwoo echoes, thrusts turning erratic and groans morphing into moans. “Mine.”
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
“I can’t — I’m g-gonna—”
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“Come for me.”
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And it’s enough for you. Your muscles tense, toes curling as hot, white pleasure surges through your body and floods you until you fall limp on the bed, hips only up because Wonwoo is holding them tightly. You clench around his cock involuntarily, his groan muffled by your hair and he’s coming, Wonwoo’s cock twitching inside you as thick spurts of come fill you to the brim. They seem to be endless, his spunk filling you up until it’s dripping out and down your thighs.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
You don’t remember much of what happens later. Your mind spins and then you fall into a most needed slumber.
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You wake up a bit disoriented, having no idea how much has passed since you fell asleep, but you realise you’re all cleaned up and dressed, head resting in Wonwoo’s — thankfully, for the sake of your precious pussy — clothed chest as he uses his cellphone. He smells clean too, hair still a little bit wet, and you smile thinking that the shower you both took before going to bed was useless.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
“You’re up?” comes Wonwoo’s question when he feels your lips moving against him, placing his phone somewhere on the bed and circling his arms around you. You move your head, looking up at him with fondness.⠀
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“Hey, baby,” you breathe out, reaching to peck him in the lips once. He smiles, that kind of smile that leaves you breathless with love.
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“Hey, my love,” Wonwoo laughs when you blush at the pet name. It’s so sweet and endearing, you always feel warm whenever he says it. “I see you still get all red when I call you that.”
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“Shut up,” you swat at his arm, Wonwoo’s following laugh sounding like the best music you ever heard. “How much did I sleep?”
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“Not much,” he presses you tighter against him. “I think one hour? Something like that.”
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“Thanks for taking care of me,” you say, legs tangling with his and the smile never leaving your lips.
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“Of course, my love. Always will take care of you,” Wonwoo nuzzles your hair and inhales. “Got kind of surprised that I managed to fuck you into unconsciousness.”
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“Wonwoo,” you mortify with a laugh, hitting his chest, but he only giggles at you. He giggles. Your heart might explode soon.
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“What? Can’t I be happy that I pleasured my tiny girlfriend the way she deserves to?” Wonwoo says, and it sounds like a joke, but when you look up at him again to make a retort, the reverence in his eyes surrenders you speechless.⠀
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
He stares at you with so much admiration and love, like you’re the most beautiful thing ever.
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“I love you,” you say instead, cheeks hurting from the way you’re smiling, and Wonwoo seems to be caught off guard because he’s blushing. Wonwoo’s blushing. He’s so cute you want to die.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
“Shut up and go back to sleep,” he coughs, pushing your head against his chest and you laugh at this shyness. “I love you too.”
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀
Yes. The warmness of his hands, the beat of his heart, the rise and fall of his chest, the love in his eyes, the sweetness of his words — you missed everything about Jeon Wonwoo.
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#seventeen fanfic#seventeen imagine#seventeen smut#seventeen x reader#wonwoo smut#wonwoo x reader#wonwoo imagines#wonwoo fanfic#wonwoo#svt imagines#jeon wonwoo#jeon wonwoo smut#possessive wonwoo coming to destroy everyone#including me#AGAIN#i'm not sorry for the spitting part#not at all#svt smut#author is very dead#author simps very hard for jeon wonwoo#that should be a tag
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Suptober Day 6: Cemetery Boys
wc: 1.3k tags: hunter!cas, human!cas, destiel au, case fic, a little grave digging and flirting never hurt anybody
This. This was the worst part of the job; Dean concludes as he shovels away another patch of dirt. He cringes when he realizes that actually the people dying are the worst part but digging up a grave is a close second.
“I am...never...playing that...stupid...fucking game. Again!”
He hated rock, paper, scissors anyways. Couldn’t they play darts or cards to settle bets? Why do they have to play such a childish game? And why does he always fucking lose?
Dean throws the dirt over his shoulder with ache arms. Sam suggested someone had to stay with the pretty girl and protect her from the ghost of some old-timey creep. So, now Sam is somewhere comforting the college cheerleader while Dean is struggling to climb out of the hole. He just needed a second—a minute.
Fuck, he needed a nap.
He was almost out when he saw someone running towards him.
“Shit!” Dean lost his footing and fell onto his back. Landing back into the grave with a loud groan.
He heard a loud chuckle before he opened his eyes and saw, “Wow. Aren’t you pretty?”
Dean saw the man roll his eyes, but all Dean could think about was how angelic the man looked with the glow of the moon behind him.
“Did I just die and gone to heaven?”
“If heaven is finishing this dig, then yes.” Dean barely heard his words cause he was putty under the voice. The deep fucking voice. “You’re Dean, right?”
Pretty boy knows my name! “Yeah.” Smooth. “Yeah, am I that famous already?”
“Your brother sent me over to check on you.” Pretty boy helped Dean out of the grave, holding his hand out and helping Dean regain his balance by holding a hand to his waist. “Says you were taking too long.”
Was this dude teasing him, or was he dead serious?
“Yeah, well, digging up a dead body isn’t as easy anymore.”
“I don’t think it was ever easy.”
Dean blinked at him, still unable to understand if the dude just had a dry humor or if he was fucking serious.
“Who the fuck even are you?” Dean finally asked, handing the guy the extra shovel before he could even answer.
He watched pretty boy take the shovel and jump into the hole with ease. Already digging when he answers in a deep groan. “I’m Castiel.”
It took a second for Dean to stop hearing the name bouncing off the walls in his brain. “Castiel?”
Cas gave him a slight nod, his lips in a tight line as he started to shovel off the dirt quickly. Dean sat down at the edge of the grave and watched him, enjoying the way his arms and back muscles stretch his shirt, but also in suspicion.
“And what the fuck are you doing here, Cas?”
“I was on my way to this hunt, actually.”
“So you’re a hunter.”
“I thought that was obvious.”
Yeah. Well. “Well, we did all the work already, so you can’t take the credit.”
“I don’t need credit. I just want to help.” Cas was already leaving a pretty good dent. “I was supposed to be here sooner, but my car broke down. Left it on the side of the road, hidden by some trees--can’t really call a mechanic when I have an arsenal in the back.”
Dean jumped in and grabbed his own shovel to help.
“Well, it must be your lucky day, Cas.” Cas looked up at him, eyebrows knitted together. “You are looking at one of thee best mechanics on this side of the country.”
“What about the other side?”
“I’m not so good over there.”
They both cracked a smile. So maybe Cas does have a dry sense of humor. And Dean...well, shit, Dean thinks he likes it.
“After we’re done here, maybe I can give you a ride back to your car? See what I can do.”
Cas was staring at him, almost as if he could see right through him, and Dean wasn’t sure if he liked it, but he sure as fuck can get addicted to being seen.
“I would appreciate that very much. Thank you, Dean.”
“No problem. Maybe that would make us even.” Dean says as his shovel hits something old. He slams the shovel down harder and cracks the wooden box. “Jackpot!”
Cas climbed out of the grave with ease and quickly turned around to help Dean out again. He wanted to show that he could get out all by himself, too, but he didn’t want to lose the opportunity to hold the damn dude’s big rough hands.
Shit. It’s been a while for him.
“Dean?” Dean noticed his gaze had fallen to the other man’s lips. It was formed into a small smile. “The salt?”
He’s a professional! He should not be letting this pretty boy interfere with the job. Since when has this been a rule? Now. He is starting now.
Dean picked up the salt, and before he could pour it out into the grave, he felt a familiar push of something hard knocking him back. He landed hard against a gravestone, his back getting the worst of it, while he heard his name being called out but everything was a little fuzzy. The figure before him, dressed in an old prison uniform, grinned down at him before he took hold of Dean’s neck. It was choking him.
“Dean!”
His vision faded as he tried to fight the ghost, but his legs just went through him. But eventually, he fell onto his knees, sucking in the air before a coughing fit started.
He felt strong arms around his shoulders, protecting him. “Come on, Dean. We gotta burn the remains.”
Easy for him to say. He wasn’t just thrown across the graveyard like a damn rag doll.
Dean followed Cas’s lead without complaint, noticing now that the dude had a shotgun in hand. When they reached the grave again, there stood the ghost with the most fucked up grin that made the Joker’s scars look good. It gave Dean the chills, and he started to feel his body freeze up.
“Cas.” Dean tugged at the other guy’s sleeve. His hands felt so weak, and when he looked down at himself, he noticed they were starting to become purple. “Fuck.”
This is how all his victims were found. Shit, that also meant the damn ghost found him pretty enough to kill.
Cas noticed at the same time and gave Dean’s hand a gentle squeeze as he pulled it off of him. He gave Dean an apologetic smile before turning towards the ghost. “If you want him. Take him.”
“Are you fucking serious?” Dean complained as he watched the ghost’s eyes widen as he looked Dean up and down. “If that dirty hand touches me, Cas. You’re dead.”
“Then I suggest you keep him away from you while I burn this bitch.”
Dean couldn’t help but smile. Even while being used as fucking bait, he could find time to find Cas as cute and funny.
Dean did as he was told, ignoring the way his lungs burned with every gasping breath as he tried to fucking run from the ghost. Like the first idiot who dies in a horror movie.
“You could have given me the gun!”
“Get your own!”
“Ass!”
Dean swore he heard laughter.
And just when he was cornered, with nasty fucking claws trying to bury themselves into his chest, the ghost backs away in screams. Burning up from the inside first and slowly spreading. Then, finally, the screams and remains become lost to the wind.
Dean fell back against a grave, his chest still ached along with everything in his body, when he saw Cas run towards him. He slid into his knees and carefully cradled Dean’s head between his hands, looking at him again. Looking at him like he knew him. Cared about him.
“Dean? Dean, you okay?”
Dean wanted to shove those hands away. He wouldn’t have let anyone take care of him like this, but right now, he didn’t care.
“You owe me, Cas. That grimy nasty shit touched me.”
Cas sighed in relief, knowing Dean was fine. Or at least, he was alive.
“I guess I owe you.” Cas helped Dean up. “Maybe after you fix my car?”
“Deal. But buy me breakfast first?”
“Deal.”
#suptober21#wormstachewrites#destiel#destiel au#fic#i am so sleepy so sorry if this is bad#i hate math
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Searing Starlight (chapter one)
SERIES SUMMARY: the most powerful inferni alive, raised to see herself as a god-in-the-making, the bastard of the barrel and his team, and a shadow summoner with a common goal. What could go wrong? The giant mass of darkness known as the shadow fold and y/n’s sense of humor.
CHAPTER SUMMARY: Y/n is sent to hustle the Crow Club. Technically it’s not cheating, but Kaz Brekker isn’t the type to let people off on technicalities alone. Especially when the one that committed the offense could help him earn 1 million kruge.
a/n just a little something based on the show bc IM OBSESSED :)) --I’m planning on making this a series so if you want to be tagged let me know :)
The candles flicker as Kenya's palm makes contact with my face. I used to cry after he hit me; I used to run to Anya’s room for comfort and my energy would became so irritated I snuffed out all the candles in the church. Now, I just stand there. You get punished worse for showing fear. Gods fear nothing, and that’s what he wants from us--to turn into Gods so that the heavens will owe him.
“You risk us again and again!”
The yelling is worse than the stinging of the slap. I make a point of keeping my palms flat; the candles of the room flicker as if feeling my restraint. “Watch yourself or the tidemaker you’re so fond of will feel my wrath instead of you. At least when I bruise his face it doesn’t cost me a night of revenue.”
I want to point out that the men I trick in the pleasure district don’t care about bruises, but the reminder of Jace has me frozen in place. Jace is good. He doesn’t deserve this treatment. “It won’t happen again, Father Kenya.”
He nods once, unsatisfied but growing bored. “Disappear from my sight before my flesh wins and I forget to show you mercy.” Kenya turns sharply, watching Anya’s stoic expression. “Anya--we’re in need of funding, take these coins and triple it by morning.”
Anya’s lips part; I shake my head once, a subtle plea for her silence. “Father Kenya, y/n’s the most talented card player we have--if she comes with us we can bring five times what you’re going to give us.”
The promise Anya makes is that of a fool, but I know I’m capable of it. People are easy to read when they’re drunk, they’re easy to trick and lie to. And drunk people exude the clearest energy, something about their bluffing is as tangible as fog to me.
Kenya squeezes the drawstring bag between his violent fingers. He loathes me more than the others. He expects more from me. He’d lock me in the cellar if he could afford to. But he can’t--he knows what I’m capable of.
“Go somewhere in the Barrel--somewhere that doesn’t ask questions if the money is good.” Kenya looks at me, the bruises on my arms and cheeks. “Clean yourself up beforehand.”
I nod once, stomach rolling at the thought of going out and knotting at the thought of staying here. I keep my steps even as I approach Anya, grateful for the excuse to disappear behind the chapel’s doors.
----
This club is louder than most, boisterous men drinking constantly, slurring their words and leaning over bars. I only smile when someone’s looking, tugging on the dress Anya picked for me subconsciously.
“Relax, y/n,” Anya hums, “Men don’t understand they’re being hustled when someone pretty is the one swindling them, and you look hot.”
A particularly drunk man walks by slowly, eyes reflecting no shame as he blatantly rakes his gaze down my form. I shift uneasily. “That might be the problem.”
She tilts her head back, gaze focusing on the crow marking etched into the back wall of the club. A very strange and consistent crow theme in here. “Maybe you should keep the dress on until you run into Jace.”
The mention of Jace in that context leaves my face warm. “Wha--what?” Great. I’m sputtering. “Shut up!”
She laughs easily, “I’m only teasing--he’d probably ta--”
“Anya!”
Again, her laugh is loud and bright. “Kidding!” Before I can scorch her, she nods her head towards a gambling table. “An open seat--go, you know Kenya’ll have our heads if we don’t multiply this,” she tosses me the drawstring bag, I catch it awkwardly, “By five.”
There are a lot of things I’ve ruined--but I never mess up when it comes to gambling. We’re all entitled to our talents and mine are destruction and trickery. “I’ll have six times this amount before midnight.”
A little cocky, but it’s well deserved. I stroll up to the table easily, comforted by the fact that Anya’s only a few feet away.
“You’re playing this round?”
I smile politely, used to this kind of hesitance. “I think I’d like to try it.” The mock-hesitance in my voice burns coming up, but the dumber I seem the faster I make up my money. The rest of the participants snicker. Expected. I’m going to enjoy taking their money. “I can pay if that’s the issue.”
The sound of me fishing through the small bag of golden coins silences the men at a table. The man closest to me, the one with smooth brown skin and a smile I imagine has convinced many people to play into sins for him, leans forward slightly. I let him peek at the coins, the more they want my money the more they’ll believe my lies.
“How much to enter?”
A tall man snorts. I fight back the urge to glare.
“Three of those coins should do.” The boy next to me is decent enough to answer. I’ll steal from him least. “I’m Jesper.”
I’ve been to enough clubs to know when a man is attempting to find company for the night. I hope the playful niceness I see in him is real. “Kamil.” My sister’s name is salt water on my tongue.
The first game is easy enough to throw. The second, I have to work at a little more--their smugness is killing me. I pretend to be ready to step away from the table.
“Where are you going?”
I shrug at the stranger. “I shouldn’t lose any more money, my father won’t be happy with me as it is.”
The stranger leans forward, glancing at his chips. “We don’t want a girl like you in trouble at home--why don’t we up the stakes? You win this next hand, and you’ll win double what I did.” He pauses, eyeing my drawstring bag, “Of course--you’ll have to be willing to risk a matching sum.”
Awful odds. “Deep odds,” Jesper mumbles, “Consider cutting your losses.”
Jesper is a better person than the other men here. I almost feel bad he’s going to be losing any money. “One more game won’t kill me,” I smile as politely as I can manage, “Besides--my luck could be about to change and I’d never know.”
I hand the coins over to the dealer. I watch as the money is shuffled onto the center of the table, suppressing the grin of someone about to release her killshot. Ten minutes later, I’ve doubled what I’ve lost. The man who upped the bet is gaping, Jesper’s expression has shifted entirely, and everyone’s staring at me like I’ve shifted into another person entirely.
“Wow--luck really does change quickly here.” I’ve hooked them. They’ll want to play again, to prove that my victory was a fluke. “Do you guys want to play again? It only seems fair I give you a chance to win back everything you just lost since you did the same for me.”
Everyone’s quick to agree, but I’m quicker to win the second round. Some men look murderous, some look ready to play again, their egos incapable of handling defeat at my hands.
“You came in with a surprising amount of coins,” Jesper muses, reaching over to pick up a piece of gold that rolled towards him, “I hate to accuse you of counterfeiting, but one has to wonder.”
Typical. “I swear my money’s real.”
“Real money can take a bullet…” Is he going to shoot it...in doors? Jesper tosses the coin easily, letting it flip in the air before taking out a pistol and shooting it dead center in a movement so casually fluid and deadly I’m taken back.
The coin clatters onto the table, the bullet embedded into the precious metal. I eye it cautiously, beyond relieved that Kenya at least doesn’t lie. “T-told you.”
His eyebrows narrow as he reholsters his pistol. “About that, I guess you did.”
Jesper’s skepticism is a red flag. I need to get out of here before my winnings are taken from me and Kenya kills me or Jace for my failure. “I didn’t take you for such a sore loser.”
Before Jesper can respond, something black raps against the table once. “What did I tell you about loud noises at the table?”
Jesper’s gaze leaves mine immediately. “Sorry boss, just checking a swindler.”
He--he knows. I blink twice, forcing surprise to color my features. “Swindler?” I look between him and the man he called his boss. “N--no, it was just--luck. I played a hand, I lost some money, I played again and I won some money. Isn’t that how it’s supposed to work?”
“You only started winning after the stakes were raised--I’ve seen that tactic before and it’s not appreciated here.”
I swallow once, a pinch of dread making its way through my stomach. He had shot that coin with no hesitation--I didn’t even see him click off the safety. How dangerous is the man at my table? How dangerous is his boss? Everyone seemed to straighten at the sight of the stranger with the cane.
“There was no tactic--it was a game.”
The man I don’t know tears his gaze away from Jesper. “Someone like you shouldn’t even be here.”
He has a point--my demeanor doesn’t exactly scream someone who frequents establishments at the Barrel during the night. “I’m only here to keep my friend out of trouble.” A fair enough response. “And I played a game and someone can’t handle a loss.”
“You should have seen her bluff, I’ve met professional thieves that lie less fluently than her.”
At Jesper’s words, the stranger’s grip around his cane tightens. I imagine that beneath his gloves, the color of marred souls, his knuckles are white. “Who do you work for? Who sent a girl to invade my business?”
Who do I work for? No one that has any business with him. “What?” How self absorbed can one man be?
“If playing the fool didn’t get you through a card game--don’t think it will get you through this.”
What? Before I can question him, Anya grabs my shoulder, pulling me so that there’s a safer distance between me and the man.
“You’re an idiot,” her whisper is pointed, directed solely at me. “Of course you’d find trouble with Dirtyhands.” Did I hear that correctly? Dirtyhands--as in the Dirtyhands? I stare at her, eyes wide. How had I been so stupid? I should have recognized him from his gloves alone. Anya turns her head towards them. “We don’t want any trouble--forgive my friend, she’s not a spy she’s just an oblivious idiot.”
“Rude.”
She throws me a glare. “But she did win.” The money isn’t worth the trouble we’ll find trying to keep it but Kenya’s words follow us wherever we go. “We’ll take what we earned and never come back.”
“I don’t concede often.”
I reach for Anya’s arm, brushing her forearm in hopes of telling her things will be okay. Kaz Brekker may be feared, but we’re gods in the making. “Neither do we.”
He seems to want to play at an odd, power-filled standstill, but Anya and I are more desperate than him. Anya leans forward, ready to take the money from the table, but the unidentified man who upped the stakes earlier is quick to grab her forearm.
“I don’t take losses, little girl.”
Anya. I can only imagine the horror she feels when a strange man touches her. Screw precaution. “Is that money worth burning for?”
“Y/n.” Anya’s warning comes out low; Jesper raises an eyebrow. I guess being Kamil was short lived.
“Excuse me?”
The man will not intimidate me. Fear is a crutch men use to keep women in check. “You heard my question.” I hold up my hand, releasing enough energy to develop a flame in my palm. “And if your answer is ‘no’, I suggest you release my friend before your body is nothing more than a pile of ash your own mother wouldn’t even be able to identify.”
The stranger blinks, touches the gun on his hip, and then releases Anya’s arm.
“You can’t come into my club, hustle money away from my men, and walk away unscathed because you’re a grisha.”
Words cannot express how badly I do not want to speak to Kaz Brekker at any point in my life. His grip on his cane is a silent warning--a threat. But what is a man’s threat to a girl that’s meant to be a god? “You can kill me but I’ll use my dying breath to burn this entire building.” I’ve publicly backed him into a corner--I’m insane.
Dirtyhands opens his mouth to reply, anyone within earshot holding on for his next words. Anya yanks me back as the sound of something explosive interrupts the room. A bullet flies past directly where I was standing and strikes the wall behind me. Anya just saved my life. Someone just shot at me.
“Y/n, do you think it’s--”
“No.” It can’t be. There’s no way a soldier found me again. “It can’t be--we were--we’ve been careful--and Kenya said they wouldn’t look for me--that he purchased me fully.”
A man is moving through the crowd. A blue kefta. No. No.
Not here. Not now.
And why are they shooting at me? “Anya,” I breathe out as cautiously as possible, “Run and no matter what don’t turn around.”
“I’m not leaving you.”
Anya. Always the older sister. “They don’t want you--they want me.”
“You’re not a real Sun Summoner--it’s suicide for you.”
I don’t have the heart to tell Anya I don’t particularly care about my life. It’s never truly been mine anyway. “I’ll make it out.”
“You’re an inferni, not a miracle worker.”
My lips pull into an odd sort of grimace. The gentle kind one hopes is mistaken for a smile. “I thought we were meant to be gods.”
“A god can’t do what they want from you.” She mumbles. “So you’re capable of producing more fire than most--it’s not the same as creating light. It doesn’t matter how many drugs they pump into you it’s--”
I shake my head once, “Anya--go.”
“They want you to play Sun Summoner.” Dirtyhand’s tone is too smooth to trust. I know when someone’s trying to sell dreams that don’t exist. “The way they’ll have you do it will cost you, but the way I’ll have you do it will be practically painless.”
Is he always this confusing? “What?”
The question is an irritation, that’s apparent in the cold tint that takes over his practically blank expression. “I need a Sun Summoner for a business deal--and lucky for you I’m out of time.”
“You don’t want to work with me.”
“No,” his voice is dismissive, he didn’t understand I meant that as a warning, “But I need to have some form of mass light before sunrise.”
“The man I’m indentured to will never go for it.” Proposing such an idea would leave me with a broken rib again.
Dirtyhands nods once, a vague acknowledgement. “That’s not your problem.” I keep my jaw set, scanning at the crowd for a flash of that blue kefta. “After all, it wasn’t his problem when he hurt you.”
I had been careful to hide the bruises. The reminders of my humanity. My weaknesses, my failures, written onto my skin in purple and blue ink. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I didn’t until I got that reaction.” I’ve never so quickly felt the need to loathe someone. “It was easy enough to assume--young girl, desperate for money, a grisha powerful enough to be hunted down.”
Is that supposed to be some sort of consolation? “My freedom would never come so easily.”
“It wouldn’t be freedom--you’d owe me more than you already do for the kruge scam.”
I swallow before I can make the mistake of telling him I’d consider any escape from Kenya freedom. “Close enough.”
The grisha’s closer now, the light blue kefta so easy to spot amongst a sea of darkness. “You’re running out of time.”
“Can you get my friend out?”
“Y/n.” She can be mad for the rest of her life if she wants.
He nods his head once. “She’ll be out the back before anyone knows she was even here.”
“And she can take the money I won.” Maybe the income will be enough to spare her from Kenya’s wrath. “That’s a dealbreaker.”
Kaz Brekker hesitates. It’s such a normal pause I almost think it’s a trap. “If she takes it there will be no way out for you--you will do what I ask even if it endangers your life.”
“Y/n, it’s not worth it.”
I don’t look at Anya. “You have my word.”
“Y/n, I’m not taking anything and I’m not leaving you.”
I finally turn. “Don’t be a self-sacrificing idiot--it’s not in your nature and frankly it doesn’t suit you.” Acts of goodness towards me have always left me feeling raw. Too raw. Like I’m bleeding out. “Sorry, I just…” Anya’s eyes are soft. She knows. She always knows. “I’ll get through whatever it is he’s planning and I’ll come back.” I swallow once, nerve draining from my body slowly. “Take the money--Kenya will be angry enough as is.”
Anya drops her gaze as she collects from the table. It takes me a moment longer than it should to recognize this is shameful for her. I consider telling her that she’s doing the right thing, but that would burn her heart more.
“You’re my sister,” Anya’s voice is lower than it’s ever been, “I should have stopped him.”
Her guilt hurts more than the bruises. “You were as hurt as me--you have nothing to feel guilty about.”
This is already more emotion than we’re used to expressing when alone let alone around others. Anya stretches out an arm, squeezes my shoulder once, and then takes a step back. “I’ll see you again.”
“Yes,” I nod once.
“Jesper, take the girl out the back.” Turning forward blankly, Kaz begins to speak to me, “Hide behind the bar--my wraith will find you and take you somewhere else.”
“Y--you have a wraith?” And I thought Kenya was weird. He lets out a sigh. “Sorry. Not the time.”
“Desperation leads to bad decisions.”
Dramatic. “I agree.”
His gaze falls on me, taking in my narrow-eyed glare. There’s a moment in which I think the left corner of his mouth twitches upwards, but then he turns his head again. A trick of the light. “Go before you’re found and I’m out the money I let your friend take.”
Yes. I’m not exactly safe right now, but Kaz Brekker needs me for something. That means I will not be leaving this building. By force or willingly.
Silently, I turn, melting into those in the crowd that are either oblivious or don’t care enough to react to the cat and mouse game I’m currently in. When I reach the bar, I’m quick to duck behind it, pressing my back against shelves of alcohol.
#six of crows#six of crows x reader#six of crows imagine#six of crows x you#jesper fahey#inej ghafa#kaz brekker#kaz brekker x reader#kaz brekker imagine#grishaverse#grisha#grishaverse x reader#inferni#shadow and bone#shadow and bone show#shadow and bone x reader#shadow and bone imagine#shadow and bone x you#shadow and bone fanfic#the darkling#the darkling x reader#the darkling imagine#the darkling x you#general kirigan#general kirigan x reader#ben barnes#ben barnes x reader#aleksander morozova#aleksander morozova x reader#alina starkov
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RINTOBER: [ Achilles' Heel ]
word count: 2,222
suna rintarō x reader
tags: ambiguous end, implied major character death, angst, implied sexual intercourse, toxic relationship, detailed pain(?)
song: achilles come down - gang of youths
a/n: HALLOWEEN SPECIAL because... death...?
a HUGE thank you, once again, to my wonderful wife, love of my life, bby @toffees-main 🥺 for proofreading the final piece and preventing me from sounding like a dumbass like, twice. also, thank you to @newfriendjen and @kaitycole for beta-reading the initial draft!
"Rin, Rintarō, I love you!" You shouted from the bleachers; a proud smile decorating your features as you cheered for him right after he'd hit the ball to the other side of the net, securing EJP Raijin another point—so close to winning.
His gaze and yours were two opposites of a pole with a pull unparalleled—a pull science can only wish to decipher. He finds you as he rotates through the set up and there's a beam in his eyes, making him break out into a grin you just know he couldn't find it in himself to reserve for later.
That day, that match—Suna Rintarō was named the MVP of the game. He owed it all to you and the swell of his heart with each cheer he heard from you; your voice distinct as if it were the only one that mattered in that whole gymnasium. Perhaps, at least that time, you truly were all that mattered to him.
But not anymore.
The first—the first was the lack of replies, the dryer replies. I love you's met with Love you's and very little effort to hide the lack of sincerity beneath. It began through texts until it was the quick, snipped tone laced with the parsimonious manner he answered you. The act of it was much like an attempt to deprive you of water until you're but withering rose in his grasp that he would rather replace than try to plant again and save.
Just how long were you willing to go without the water you needed to stay alive?
"Rin, love, I'll prepare dinner for us tonight, come home early, okay? I'm cooking your favorite!"
"I'll try," was his reply as you watched each of his hasty movements through your shared bedroom.
"I prepared you a bento, too. It's on the kitchen counter," you continued as he attempted to ignore the way you looked at him similar to the way you look when you're lost and searching for something. He hums in response, and just as he was about to reach for the door, you call out to him, "Rin, where's my goodbye kiss?" in the usual tone you would pull back then when he would forget and pepper you with kisses in retaliation, offering an apology before heading out.
He looks back at you with exasperation, "I'm late, Y/N." He doesn't wait for you to answer before he has the door shut close.
That's how you know he also forgot the food you prepared on the kitchen counter.
Foolishly, the answer to the question was that you were willing to wait until your next life for his love to drown you into bliss again. It's that answer that's disrespectful to the mystery of reincarnation—but you're everything Suna Rintarō wanted you to be; that is, if it was a fool he wanted you to be, you would play the part better than any award winning actor to have ever lived could. Even if it was a miscreant he wanted you to be, some sort of heretic to the laws of the world and the conditions of love. You'd be everything he asked of you. After all, who were you if not his other half?
Who were you if not water to shape into whatever container he put you in, right?
The second—the second was the lies that slipped past such sinful crimson lips. Oh, by the heavens, as if the lack of fondness in the timbre of his voice as he spoke to you wasn't enough to put cracks to the cemented foundation of you and him. Cruel, it's so cruel—you wonder if you're lacking somewhere, have you changed? Are you no longer diamond in the sea of glitter—? Worth not of his time nor the beating of the caged heart you thought you've acquired?
Now when he speaks, even the very sound of his voice reverberates like a sharp spear piercing through your chest without mercy—as if you're Spartan in the Battle of Thermopylae. The lies that come along with them about how training ended late again, or that he's travelling for a match again—Huh? No, you don't have to come, Y/N. I need to focus.
Did he have to lie about who he's with, what he's been doing? It's laughable. As if you wouldn't kiss away the taste of anything that lingered in his lips, if it was blood, alcohol or the lips of another girl. Rintarō, did he not know you enough to know you would surrender to his will no matter what mud followed his footsteps?
Ah, but, what would admitting such things do to his pride? Maybe it's that—or maybe he liked the way the lies were like lemon and salt to a fresh wound. You think, you never thought you could be so masochistic.
Third—the third is the sharpness of his gaze. It's the same gaze, same pair of eyes you've loved for such a long time and you fail not to love to this very moment. You're softer than clouds but now most hollow in comparison to the unacquirable stars among the cosmos—you think they're there but they're just a burst of light, something that has probably died lightyears ago.
It's like chokehold, the fourth—the fourth is like chokehold and he, the assassin. Ruthless—he's ruthless when he looks at you as you're not more than a tedious chore to him and the ring on your finger held no promise of relentless love greater than what a deity could offer.
Foolish—you're foolish. Delusion is a coping mechanism to the ones whose realities have been robbed in front of them—delusion is what you're supposed to call it when you fill your head with all the excuses and all the things you tell yourself have to change. You used to be a masterpiece. A masterpiece to him; as though you're Holy Grail found in a gallery of things that could never begin to hope they would ever amount to you.
Delusion is ignoring the liquor in his lips, the intoxicating smell of his cologne mixed with alcohol and cigarette smoke. You're confused and your reality that seems to have been distorting more often than usual. You question the strings that premeditate fate when it's you feeling the drunkenness and hangover the next day when it should be Suna and the tabloids of "Suna Rintarō spotted in yet another bar." You wonder if each sunset and sunrise you watched with Suna was a mere fever dream when it's you who vomits on the toilet. You, who sobs on the bathroom floor.
"Sfumato," your friend tells you, "The gentle blurring of edges to make rendered objects appear as one with their environment." The edges blur when you call that delusion as love—you only have to wait long enough before both are truly one and the same. The pain disguised as martyr sacrifice to the greatest allegory of love to exist. This is what you're told. They say, "Y/N, you've confused love with delusion," and yet you don't listen.
You don't listen most of all when you're back underneath him but you feel like you're being bloodied all over, stained like wine to a white dress. Yet you allow yourself to indulge in the kisses he's abated you of, you revel in each time you ask him to tell you he loves you and he finally does as he luxuriates you of your desires and of your whines for love—nevermind that he was doing it for himself. After all, it is as the word suggests, a luxury.
Suna Rintarō had become a luxury you couldn't afford, therefore, he did not have any business of giving himself to you. Not unless he wanted to.
Is there such thing as a free reign over the heart of someone? Hand it over as they will but how long would they truly allow you to borrow it—? Borrow it because one never truly surrenders such a vital thing to human functioning. Yes, you are and you have been delusional to believe so.
"You own the entirety of my heart, Y/N," you're unsure whenever it echoes in your head. He brings you enough torture, why must your own brain create such clamor in your head. Was such pain necessary? Is pain to love much like Adam's rib to Eve?
"It's a promise ring, bunny," he said as he tucked your hair behind your ears—his gaze is intense, almost like you would disappear from his sight if he looked at anywhere or anything but you.
You stared at the ring that shone under the light of the restaurant, your vision blurring at the tears welling from your eyes and you try your best to choke in the sob that involuntarily escapes you.
"Hey, Y/N, what are you cryin' for?" He questioned with a chuckle, looking at you with amusement dancing in his eyes while his thumbs reached out to wipe away each tear that betrayed you—falling down your cheeks as he cupped your face.
"I-it's nothing, I—I'm just happy, love," you answer him through your tears.
There's a smile playing across his lips, he tells you, "'m just making a promise that I'll marry you one day, bunny, is all."
You nodded eagerly with a wide smile even as the tears that left you continued to fall, "I'm making a promise to say yes, Rin. No matter what," you answered him through your sobs, wrapping your arms around his neck.
"Guess I should start practicing to get on one knee then, yeah?" He laughed as he pulled you closer, his arms around you, you giggled along with him—it felt like you were molded together to form one perfect piece, like the act of staying there for all of eternity, in each other's arms, would turn you into one. Entangled together in all the right ways—as if Rapture has befallen the Earth and that was your final state as did the universe.
The fifth—the fifth is the screaming, the fights. Who would have thought you would break like a mere twig stepped on in the darkest forest on this Earth? It was under his shoe did you break from; each word that left his mouth was scathing—they didn't feel like a stab or pins and needles to the human heart, they felt like burns of acid that slowly ate at your decaying soul, breaking heart, dwindling sanity.
"I don't get it, Rin! Why do you treat me like this?!" You screamed through your tears, your chest heaving as your lungs tried its best to support you, even when it's already been punctured by the shattered pieces of your heart that continued to beat in separate shards, digging further into your lungs, damaging your ribcage, piercing your throat.
"Please, God, just tell me what to do—Rintarō, tell me what I need to do to turn us back to the way we were, please," you begged, falling to your knees and you let the shattered items on the floor puncture your skin. You felt numb yet your whole body was buzzing. The pain from the pieces of glass from under you doesn't register in your brain because all you can feel is the pain that was spreading from your chest and out into your whole body.
Under his mercy had he turned you inside out and greedily taken every part of you—everything you surrendered on your own volition until you were nothing, not even a shell of yourself but more like a ghost floating through the air. It looked like a battlefield—and perhaps it was. Love was never something you come out alive from. Love was greedy, selfish, treacherous. Love is like an assailant you allowed to enter in the safety of your own home.
"Don't you get it? Y/N, I don't love you anymore!"
No. You think, no. No, it repeats in your head, over and over. Denial. You were in denial, at this conjecture, you were aware of even this.
"I stopped loving you long ago, Y/N. You were dumb enough to stay." Has he always been this truculent towards you? You wonder but you can't recall anything else but the echoing of his words. Words he used like a champion of the battlefield, liberating away the life of his enemies.
No. Don't say that. You don't mean it. No.
Suna thought you would be the arrow to his heel—the one to bring him to his knees in the most torturous of ways. In reality, maybe you were more his heel than the arrow. He was both Achilles and his actions, the arrow that brought him to his own demise.
Sixth—the sixth was sickening grief. You're so unfair. You're so selfish. How could you run away from him, only to scream his name and the tormenting shout of "I love you" that haunted him awake or in his slumber. How could you be so cruel? To let him fall to his knees in front you the way you made him to. Ruthless—you're so ruthless. The pain was the excruciating kind, crashing towards him like ocean waves bringing him farther from the shore and near to wherever you were now. How could you leave him like you did?
After all, what was he if there wasn't you?
📞 violet is calling... all content featured belongs to ©️ animatedrapture. do not plagiarize, repost, or modify.
#RINTOBER#suna rintarou#suna x reader#suna rintaro x reader#suna#rintarou suna#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu imagines#;cloud#haikyuu angst#suna angst#suna rintaro x you#suna rintaro x y/n#suna rintaro imagine#suna rintarou x reader
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𝐈𝐍𝐔𝐑𝐄
Peeta mellark x male reader
We all know who Katniss Everdeen is, but what if Primrose hadn’t been chosen but another boy from another unfortunate family? YOUR family.
Info: This is basically a reader insert and I’ve changed a few rules, not ground breaking though. The reader is a bit bland for now but I plan for his actions to be different. Because he has different moral grounds from Katniss and such. Would appreciate feedback! FEEL FREE TO POINT OUT TYPOS. GRAMMARLY SOMETIMES DOESN’T DO MY DYSLEXIC ASS JUSTICE
Part one: Over there, buddy
Part two:You’re here right now. :)
Part three: Click here, pepperoni salami.
Wattpad account: L0calxDumbass
I separated with Gale and Katniss for a while, telling them I needed air. I sighed, leaping from branch to branch in the thicket of trees. Bread, not just bread, baker's bread. If I'm lucky I could get just enough squirrels for the baker, he had a taste for it but his wife was much of a witch, so he only buys it when she's not around.
I remembered how she found me stealing some burnt bread from the trashcan. I looked at her with wide eyes, frozen, I thought I was going to die, stealing was punishable for death, after all. But she just let me go, screaming about her frustration of Seams picking through her trash.
I got bread that day either way.
I landed on a sturdy branch, spotting a squirrel on the tree adjacent to me; it was quite huge, I'm sure he'd love this. Let's just hope the witch isn't home by the time I give this to him.
I crouched down, still as a statue as I watched the squirrel run up and down the tree. I pulled out the thin, glistening dagger, unwrapping its course, leather bindings, which became a makeshift thin rope. I felt my eyes unconsciously widen, watching the squirrel's movements.
My arm aimed, then with a simple flick, the dagger whistled through the air. The small creature was then pinned to the bark of the tree through its eyes. The dagger's blade was thin enough to not damage anything when aimed right.
I pulled on the rope, the blade coming back, dragging the animal carcass with it. A small smile tugged on my face, I can get bread.
Kunal was surely panicking, he was the type to worry about the smallest of things. He once stepped on a cat's tail, Buttercup, Primrose's cat and he bawled, nobody could calm him down. Until he was offered food, that is.
I chuckled at the memory, slowly pulling the blade off the head of the squirrel. I held it in my hands victoriously, a grin on my face. I whistled a small 3 tone song, the chirping mocking birds falling silent before they imitated the tone.
After meeting up, we went back home, passing by the Hob. It was sort of a black market, where coals are transported directly to trains. I disliked it here, the amount of coal dust always bothered me, so when I come here I tend to cover my nose.
We managed to trade six of the fish for good bread, the other two for some salt. The lady who sells soup, the one that always glares at me because I've insulted her soup on multiple occasions, Greasy Sae: took half the greens we gathered, along with the dead dog meat that she calls "beef".
That's why I hate her soups, though it's not like I have much of an option, we can't afford luxury here. Unlike those obnoxious, entitled, privileged people in the Capitol. My jaw clenched at the mere thought of those scums.
We finish our business on the market, so we went to the mayor's house, who was particularly fond of strawberries. We knocked on the back door, his daughter, Madge opening it for us.
She's in Katniss and I's year sits beside us at almost every event because we don't really have groups of friends. For being the mayor's daughter you'd expect her to be an entitled brat or maybe a snob, but she was alright, she kept to herself.
I like that, I hate noisy people, They'll scare away the game, that and I've never really liked loud noises. I still remember the explosions in the mines, it was traumatizing, even though my father didn't meet death there. I really wished he had.
Madge didn't wear her usual attire, instead, she wore an expensive white dress, her blonde hair up with a pink ribbon. Reaping clothes. I felt my face scrunch up, that day was supposed to be a form of celebration. It's more of a way for the capitol to show who's in control.
We were being punished for the crimes of the people who failed, disguised as some form of celebration. It's disgusting.
"Pretty dress," Gale complimented. Madge shoots him a look, trying to see if it's genuine or if he was just being ironic. It was a pretty dress, but it was a waste.
She smiled, "Well, if I'm going to the Capitol, I want to look nice, don't I?"
I clenched my jaw, "But you won't be going to the Capitol," I said coolly, my voice monotone. My eyes landed on a small, circular pin on her dress. Real gold. The testament to the fact that she probably won't be chosen. "You probably have five entries, compared to us, that's a blessing."
"That's not her fault," Katniss said. Madge looked slightly hurt, probably because I've never really spoken my thoughts to her, I try my best to be polite when she engages a conversation with me.
"I know," I responded plainly. Madge smiled towards me, though it was clear it wasn't exactly genuine. She then handed the money for the berries. She looked towards Katniss "Good luck, Katniss"
"You too," She responded.
We walked toward the Seam, I can't help but feel angry. Her? Going to the Capitol? What a joke. When you're twelve your name gets put in the pile once, thirteen twice then so on. Up until your eighteen, where your name is entered seven times.
But the thing is, the rich have an advantage. You can enter your name willingly in the pile when you're starving in exchange for some tesserae. I had been doing this since I was twelve, having entered my name 3 times, for my mother, brother and myself. Every year following suite, it has always been like this.
Now at the age of 16, I've entered my name twenty times, same with Katniss. Gale was in even greater danger, with a number of forty-two.
And she'll be the tribute this year? It can happen but it's deadly slim. I knew Gale felt the same way, listening to him rant about tesserae in the woods with Katniss was enough confirmation, along with the fact that I join in on the rants. Always end it with a promise to destroy the Capitol, somehow.
But what good does that do us?
Gale, Katniss and I divide our spoils, though it wasn't really the evenest distribution. Gale got more, understandably since he has more mouths to feed.
"See you guys in the square," Katniss said, Gale nodded, "Wear something pretty," he joked.
I decided to stop by the bakery, by then the witch should be home but I took my chances. There was Mr Mellark, sitting outside, watching the pigs. He saw me from the corner of his eye, he grinned. "Greyback!' he called.
"Mr Mellark, still up for some squirrel?" I ask, holding the fat one up. He nodded, "You're lucky my wife isn't here, yet. Hold on, I'll get the bread for Kunal," he said, rushing inside.
I walked to the backdoor of the bakery so that he wouldn't trouble himself that much. I waited awkwardly outside, looking at a small bird fluttering about. I whistled, holding my finger out.
The bird landed on my finger, making me smile. From the corner of my eye, I saw a boy, blonde, stocky. Could probably kill me, if I'm being honest. Even though I was fast, I wasn't strong.
Soon enough, the bird flew away with the arrival of the baker, with a loaf of sweet, savoury bread, hot from the oven. "Here you go, Greyback."
I nodded, handing him the squirrel. "Oh!" he hummed, "Have you met my son, Peeta?" he asked, a smile on his face, "You're in the same year, yes?"
I didn't know what to say. Sure, I know him but I don't know that well him that well. My eyes travelled to the boy, who simply waved and briskly walked away. "I don't think so," I answered.
"I better be going, Mr Mellark. Nal needs his favourite bread after all," I said, flashing a small smile before I left. A small pit of dread boiled in my stomach, something bad is going to happen.
But then again, it's Reaping day, nothing good ever happens.
Word count: 1.3k
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the secretary
pairing: kuroo tetsurou x reader
summary: you arrive at your husband’s workplace to deliver the papers he needs for a very important presentation. unfortunately, the only thing standing between you and this goal is his secretary
warning: slight time skip spoilers
a/n: this is such a cliché, but it doesn’t mean that i love it any less. is kuroo actually so high up there in position that he gets his own secretary? who knows, but i hope you guys enjoy
EDIT: reupload (tumblr, please stop deleting me from the tags)
The building in front of you stood tall and menacingly, its shining windows indicative of the building’s well-kept and professional status. Men and women dressed in suits could be seen walking around the lobby, with some hurrying to and from various cramped elevators, all in an effort to make it to their next meetings. You were beginning to think that you were a bit underdressed with your large hoodie and sweatpants…
Your attention was soon redirected when you felt the baby strapped against your chest wiggle in excitement at all the new and foreign sights around him. Tatsuya was only fourteen months old, but he was smart enough to recognize that the setting around him was not the usual park or grocery store that you would take him to, so all of this could only mean one thing: a new adventure!
“Tatsuya,” you giggled at your son’s endless wiggling, “please behave, all right? We just need to deliver papa’s papers, and then we can go home and watch your cartoons.”
“Papa?” your son asked, his eyes lighting up at the very mention of his father.
You nodded and smiled at your son’s enthusiasm. On some days, you would playfully complain to your husband that Tatsuya loved him more than he loved you. Your son was already a carbon copy of Kuroo, with their similarly dark ebony hair and golden eyes. Even dressed in his current red onesie, Tatsuya looked reminiscent of your husband in his old volleyball jersey. The only trait that Tatsuya didn’t inherit from his scheming father was the latter’s wild bedhead. You just hoped that your next child would look more like you.
“Yeah, we get to see papa today,” you gestured to your purse, which held the folder containing the papers Kuroo needed for his presentation that afternoon, “your papa forgot his papers, so we’re going to go deliver them to him.”
You nearly had a heart attack earlier in the morning when you saw the inconspicuous folder sitting on the dining room table as you were cleaning the house. Kuroo had been so busy working on this presentation for the past few weeks that he’d often skip food and sleep in order to have it finished. When he didn’t answer your phone call after the fifth time, you took it upon yourself to deliver his papers to him in person.
“Papa!” Tatsuya exclaimed in further excitement at the prospect of seeing his father.
You just chuckled as you made your way to the front doors of the Japan Volleyball Association. The security guard stationed at the front desk shot you a raised eyebrow, but said nothing as he gave you a nod in greeting. You bowed back before heading towards the busy elevators, workers staring at you in bewilderment, as you were clearly not meant to be there.
You nervously sent them all a polite smile as you got into the cramped elevator when it arrived with the rest of the employees. Tatsuya simply babbled away as his eyes stared transfixed on the glowing numbers that indicated to the elevator’s ascension. At least someone was having a fun time.
Once you arrived at the twenty-third floor, the Sports Promotion Division, you mused at how all of the decoration remained virtually unchanged since the last time you had visited, which was near the beginning of Kuroo’s career when he had first landed the job and wanted to show you around his workplace and office.
Oh, he got a new secretary, you thought as you saw a pretty, young woman sitting at the desk located just outside of your husband’s office.
She looked around your age, maybe a year or two younger, with pretty brown eyes and matching chestnut brown hair tied into a loose bun. Her blue suit flattered her slender body to no end, and her makeup was precise and flawless. You had no doubt that she could have pursued a career in modelling if she really wanted to.
Sensing your approach, she looked up from her monitor and sent you a bored look. “Hello, how can I help you today?”
“Oh, um,” you stuttered, suddenly intimidated by her beauty up close. “Is Kuroo Tetsurou in right now? I have something important to give him.”
At the mention of your husband’s name, her attention was now solely focused on you as she gave you a not-so-subtle scan up and down. “And what business do you have with Kuroo-san?”
Not sensing her shifting attitude, you removed the folder from your purse and showed it to her. “He left these papers at home and needs them for an important presentation today. I’m just here to deliver them to him.”
“Hmm,” the secretary mused before gesturing for you to take a seat on the sofa located on the wall opposite of her desk. “Please take a seat while I see if he’s in.”
Nodding in gratitude, you made your way to the sofa and took a seat while the secretary typed away on her computer. Tatsuya, who had been quiet up until this point, took the silence as a sign that the adults were done talking and that it was now his turn to speak.
“Mama,” Tatsuya began, pointing to one of the many dull paintings that decorated the office walls. “Birb!”
You nodded. “Good job, Tatsu-chan. What about that one?”
Your son followed the direction of your finger, his eyes landing on a large flowery landscape before he furrowed his eyebrows in concentration to decipher what the painting was trying to depict. “Fwower?”
“You’re so smart, Tatsuya. Good job!”
You proceeded to boop your son’s nose and shower his face with little kisses. His joyous laughter filled your heart with warmth as he looked up at you with mirth in his golden eyes. A clearing of the throat soon interrupted the moment, and the secretary gave you a strained smile. “Ma’am, can you please try to keep it down over there? We still have people working on this floor.”
“Oh, sorry!” you apologized before turning to Tatsuya. “Tatsu-chan, let’s play the quiet game for a bit, okay? We wouldn’t want to disturb other people while they’re working, right?”
Your son cutely nodded as he began to occupy his time by playing with the strings of your hoodie. After a few more minutes, the secretary called you up to her desk. “Kuroo-san is in a meeting right now, but I can deliver his papers to him if you want?”
“Oh, um,” you hesitated, clutching the folder. “These papers are really important to him, so I’d be a lot more comfortable with delivering them to him in person.”
You didn’t notice how her right eye slightly twitched as she tried to convince you to hand over the folder. “Ma’am, by denying my offer, you are the one that will be impeding on Kuroo-san’s presentation if those papers are as important as you say they are.”
“W-well, when you put it that way-”
“What’s going on here?” a familiar voice called out.
“Tetsu!”
From the end of the hallway, Kuroo, dressed in his well-fitted black suit, sent you a charming smile as he approached you and Tatsuya.
“Hey, Tatsu,” Kuroo greeted with adoration as he affectionately ruffled Tatsuya’s hair, getting a delighted giggle from the baby. Kuroo then turned to you with the same look of softness and adoration shining in his eyes. “Hey, [Y/N].”
“Hey, Tetsu,” you greeted back before curiously tilting your head. “Aren’t you supposed to be in a meeting right now?”
“We just finished. So, what’s the problem here?” Kuroo asked, glancing at his secretary.
“Oh, Kuroo-san,” the secretary beamed with a sort of newly awakened enthusiasm. “This lady over here says that she has something important to give you. Is she a friend of yours?”
Kuroo hummed. “Something like that. What’s she talking about, [Y/N]?”
Pushing the folder into your husband’s chest, you revelled in amusement at the pure look of shock that overtook Kuroo’s face once he had recognized the folder in your hand. He quickly snatched it from you and hurriedly flipped through it to make sure all of his papers were there. Once he was sure that everything was indeed in the folder, Kuroo cupped your face and gave you an unabashed kiss.
“What would I do without you?” he asked once the two of you separated.
“Probably working for Kenma to make ends meet,” you joked with a shy grin. Although you were a little embarrassed about Kuroo kissing you so publicly like that, you weren’t one to complain…
“Papa!” Tatsuya exclaimed with his arms stretched out. He began to make grabbing motions with his hands, signalling that he wanted to be held by his father.
Always quick on the uptake, Kuroo unfastened Tatsuya from his baby carrier and lifted him up to place a kiss on his forehead. Your son then proceeded to happily squeal and marvel at his new found height.
“I-I didn’t know you were married, Kuroo-san,” the secretary stuttered out as she fell prey to witnessing the undeniably cute family right in front of her. She felt her chest boiling with jealousy.
“Hm? I didn’t know you were privy to that information. Besides,” Kuroo lifted up both of your left hands to show off your matching wedding bands, “I never tried to hide it or anything.”
As an awkward tension soon began to envelop the air, Kuroo cleared his throat to quickly dissipate it. Turning to you with a smile, Kuroo returned Tatsuya back into your arms. “Well, my presentation’s in an hour. Tatsuya, wish your old man good luck!”
“Luck-luck, papa!” Tatsuya said as you buckled him back into his baby carrier.
“Tetsu, you’re not even twenty-seven, let alone thirty,” you chuckled as you planted a quick peck on his cheek. “Good luck with your presentation. I’ll be cooking salted mackerel pike for dinner tonight.”
Kuroo looked at you with stars in his eyes as you turned to his secretary, bowing and thanking her for all of her help.
“You are the love of my life, Kuroo [Y/N],” Kuroo proclaimed as you gave him an embarrassed pout. Your pout quickly transformed into a radiant smile as you and Tatsuya waved him goodbye and left for the elevators.
Once you were gone, Kuroo dramatically sighed and leaned against his secretary’s desk with a happy grin on his face. “Isn’t [Y/N] the best? And Tatsuya’s just the cutest baby to ever grace this Earth. How did I ever get so lucky?”
“T-they seem great, Kuroo-san,” his secretary answered with a tight-lipped smile.
“Yeah, they are,” Kuroo sincerely agreed. “Well then, I really should go get ready for this presentation. Good work, Amazaki.”
“I-it’s Hayashi, sir…”
“Oh, is it?” Kuroo feigned, glancing at the nameplate that proudly sat on top of his secretary’s desk, clearly in his field of sight and not hard to miss. “Sorry. Despite what [Y/N] says, I’m really getting up there in age. Ah, to be young again.”
As Kuroo walked off with his folder now securely tucked underneath his arm, he couldn’t help but let the smirk that he had been suppressing take over his face.
That’s what you get for being such a bitch to my wife and son.
#kuroo tetsurou x reader#kuroo x reader#haikyuu scenarios#haikyuu imagines#haikyuu reader insert#kuroo tetsurou
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