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#and I hate that I have to figure out how to be a manager through it
justlemmeadoreyou · 3 days
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Hii bestie!! Can i request a blurb idea?? Like H has a friend who is very flirty with H nd whenever reader said something about that girl H saying like no she just being friendly nd reader is really insecure nd H found out that girl is really mean to reader too, so he confront that girl nd then he console reader that she is only girl for him!! (So sorry for this long idea no pressure about writing this)
Nd I love all your lil stories ahh I'm obsessed!💗
noo lovie don't apologize! thank you for sending this in!
nothing but you
words: 1.4k+
warnings: mentions of jealousy, insecurities, cursing, crying, kissing. some inappropriate behaviour.
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"Mmm, you look so good today, Harry," Emma purred, letting her hand trail down Harry's arm as he walked into class.
Y/N frowned from her seat across the room, watching the shamelessly flirtatious interaction between her boyfriend and his friend. Emma was constantly touching Harry or making suggestive comments, and it made Y/N's insides twist with jealousy and insecurity.
"Thanks, I guess?" Harry said awkwardly, gently removing Emma's hand from his arm as he took his seat next to Y/N. He leaned over to give his girlfriend a quick peck on the cheek. "Morning, babe."
Emma rolled her eyes dramatically at the affectionate gesture. "Oh please, get a room you two," she commented with a fake gag.
Y/N felt her cheeks flush with embarrassment and irritation. She reached under her desk to give Harry's hand a squeeze, needing the reassuring contact.
After class, Emma sidled up to Harry as they walked down the hallway together. "So Harry, I was thinking we could go over that English lit homework tonight? Maybe grab a bite to eat too, make a nice study night of it?"
She fluttered her eyelashes at him coyly. Y/N felt a flare of jealousy in her chest as she walked slightly behind them. She knew Emma's "study nights" with Harry were really just thinly veiled attempts to monopolize his time and flirt relentlessly.
"Oh um, I can't tonight actually. Y/N and I had plans," Harry replied, gesturing to Y/N hovering nearby. He draped his arm casually around her shoulders, pulling her in close.
Emma's perfectly plucked eyebrows raised skeptically. "You two seem to have an awful lot of 'plans' lately. Hmm, well let me know when you have a free night for your friend Emma again, 'kay Harry?" She blew him an air kiss before sashaying off down the hallway.
Y/N scowled after her retreating figure as Harry pressed a kiss to her hair. "Don't let her get to you, babe. You know I only have eyes for you."
"I know, I know," Y/N sighed, leaning into his side. "I just can't stand how disrespectful she is towards our relationship. She flirts with you constantly, even right in front of me!"
Harry frowned, hating to see her so upset and insecure. "Hey, you're right, that's not cool of her at all. Let me talk to Emma and set her straight, make it clear her behavior is out of line."
Y/N managed a small smile at that, feeling a little better that Harry was taking her concerns seriously. "Okay, thanks love. I don't like making things awkward or uncomfortable, but that girl just has no boundaries."
Over the next few days, Y/N tried her best to brush off Emma's suggestive comments and blatant flirting whenever she was around Harry. She trusted that Harry was loyal and committed to her. But it was still hard not to feel a prickle of jealousy and hurt whenever Emma ran a hand through Harry's hair or giggled over-dramatically at his jokes.
Things came to a head one day at lunch when Emma plopped herself down on Harry's lap in the middle of the cafeteria, throwing her arms around his neck.
"You're just so strong and cuddly, Harry. Don't you two make the cutest couple?" she said with a saccharine smile, shooting Y/N a smug look.
Harry looked bewildered and vaguely uncomfortable as he gently tried to disentangle Emma's limbs from around him. "Uh Emma, what are you doing? You know I'm dating Y/N…"
"Oh don't be like that, silly! I'm just being a friendly, affectionate pal," Emma insisted with a giggle, snuggling even closer.
Y/N had had enough. She stood up abruptly, slamming her hand down on the table as tears burned in her eyes. "That's it! You need to stop with this inappropriate, gross behavior right now Emma! Can't you see how awful and disrespectful you're being?"
Harry's eyes widened in surprise at Y/N's outburst, her hurt and jealousy finally bubbling over. Emma at least had the decency to look vaguely sheepish as she reluctantly slid off Harry's lap.
"Woah, okay sorry…didn't realize I was making you so upset Y/N. I was just messing around," Emma said with an exaggerated pout.
"No, you weren't just messing around! You're always all over my boyfriend, making comments, touching him without any boundaries! It's humiliating and awful, and you need to stop right now," Y/N said fiercely, angry tears spilling down her cheeks.
She grabbed her bag and stormed out of the cafeteria, needing to get away before she completely lost it in front of everyone. Harry watched her go with a pained expression before turning to Emma with barely concealed fury.
"What the hell is wrong with you, Emma? Did you really think it was okay to continuously disrespect my relationship like that? Y/N is my girlfriend - the love of my life! And you've just been relentlessly trying to make her jealous and upset this whole time?"
Emma at least had the decency to look slightly abashed, though she quickly tried to cover it with a nonchalant shrug.
"Oh come on Harry, we were just having a bit of fun! You know I'm an affectionate person, no need to read into it so much."
"Fun? Fun?!" Harry sputtered incredulously. "You've been purposely trying to make the girl I love feel horrible about herself, all because you can't handle the fact that I'm not interested in you like that!"
He shook his head in angry disbelief, running a frustrated hand through his hair. "You know what, I think we both need to just cool off right now before I say something I might regret. But you seriously need to reevaluate how you've been acting before I'm willing to even try being your friend again."
With that, Harry stood up and hurried out of the cafeteria to go find Y/N, leaving Emma looking uncharacteristically flustered behind him.
It took a bit of searching, but Harry finally found Y/N tucked away in a quiet corner of the library, trying to hide the fact that she'd been crying. He felt like a total jerk for letting Emma's behavior go on for so long without calling her out on how much it was hurting Y/N.
"Y/N? Oh babe, hey…" Harry said softly, crouching down next to where she was curled up. He gently brushed away the tears on her cheeks with his thumbs, cradling her face in his hands.
"I am so, so sorry for letting Emma treat you like that," he said, staring into her eyes intently. "It was inappropriate as hell, and you were right to call her out. I should've shut that shit down ages ago instead of brushing it off as harmless flirting."
Y/N gave a small sniffle, leaning into his warm touch as she stared back at him with shimmering eyes. "I-It's okay, it's not your fault. I know you'd never cheat or purposely hurt me. It's Emma who has the problem, not you."
"Still," Harry insisted, brushing his lips across her forehead. "I hate that I made you feel so insecure or like I wasn't a hundred percent committed to you. The truth is, you're the love of my life, Y/N. My soulmate. I never want to be with anyone else, ever."
Y/N felt her breath catch in her throat at his earnest declaration. She searched his eyes, finding nothing but absolute sincerity reflected back at her. A small smile tugged at the corner of her lips.
"Yeah? The love of your life, huh?" she teased lightly, feeling some of the tension easing out of her body.
Harry grinned crookedly at her, leaning in to nuzzle his nose against hers. "Mmhmm, without a single doubt in my mind. And don't you ever let Emma or anyone else make you question how special and amazing you are to me."
He kissed her then, slow and deep, putting every ounce of his feelings into the embrace of his lips on hers. When they finally pulled apart, Y/N felt slightly dazed and giddy, all her previous hurt and anger towards Emma momentarily forgotten.
"I love you so much, Harry," she whispered, resting her forehead against his.
"And I love you," Harry murmured fervently. "More than you'll ever know, my gorgeous girl."
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clubdionysus · 2 days
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[BAD DECISION #10] Blonde
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warnings: b is in her bleach era. love that for her!! jaykay is in the chapter for like 1.5 seconds and still manages to be the best thing about it. also if u think wow holly sometimes your chapters end very similarly, uhhh yes. ur right. mainly because my brain is smooth but also because jungkook is a creature of habit! it’s within his character traits! not because im stupid! even if i am!
soundtrack: space - audrey nuna;  blonde - maisie peters
wc: 3.5k
bd total wc: 540k (on-going)
minors dni | AO3 | series masterlist 
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You suppose you really shouldn't be surprised when Seokjin leaves you on read. It happens as soon as he escapes the city, just like it always does. 
It's always the same; he'll come back to town for a few days - to visit friends, his family, or maybe for a haircut with the only barber he trusts - then leaves just as quickly as he comes.
The predictability of it all would be funny, you think, but your knees are getting worn out from how many times you fall for it; his charm, his deception, his pretty lips that soothe the burn of his selfish choices. 
He'll be radio silent for a while, and then suddenly, as if he's finally changed the batteries in his walkie-talkie, he won't be. It'll most likely be when he's on his way back to town in a few months time.
The saddest part is that you know you'll want to see him when he does. Will have the burning desire to show him just how well you've been; how well you've coped without him.
Most of all? You'll want him to know just how much you don't need him.
Inevitably, he'll end up in your bed, and you'll end up all in your head - again - overthinking and underestimating just how easy it is for him to drop you. Forgetting just how badly he fucked you up, only for him to remind you in the most callous of ways.
When Danbi comes home on Thursday night - three days since Seokjin's last message - she knows exactly what's happened. You've got a special kind of pout reserved for Seokjin-related upsets. It's always a little soft yet incredibly hard to break.
"You gotta stop letting him in," she says over a glass of red. She hates the taste, but loves the soft buzz in the pit of her stomach. Though she's much better suited to Moscato, Danbi will never turn her nose up at free wine.
If she knew why you were drinking it, she might consider rejecting it.
Seokjin's favourite. You'd bought it on the way home from work. Just couldn't help yourself.
Had figured that at least when you hugged yourself to sleep that evening, your lips would taste like his used to do, on the nights when he'd tell you that you're the most delightful thing he's ever laid his eyes upon. Would be all giggly. Wine drunk. Happy. In love.
But it's been a while since he did that. Feels like a lifetime ago, now. 
You shrug as you let the ruby red liquid swirl in your glass. Fighting against your feelings feels like swimming against the tide.
Always struggling to breathe. Never winning. Failing. Falling. 
"I don't know how to, Dan."
"But you do," she insists.
And she's right. Of course you do. 
His number has never been blocked, but a simple restriction of access to you would solve so many of your problems.
Thing is, you kind of like him still being your problem. At least that way, on a technicality, he's still yours. Kind of.
Every time he comes back to the city, it's still your bed that he ends up in.
Never for the night. Just for an hour or two - but for long enough for you to convince yourself that he can't stay away.
The lies you let your mind whisper are insidious. You're irresistible. He's still just as affected by you as you are by him. He can't possibly leave you.
And yet he does, each and every time.
He doesn't ever let you go. Not fully. Whenever you think you're getting over it, he shows up just to get you under him; his thumb, his spell, his body.
You're halfway through the bottle of wine when Danbi tells you once more that you need to get Seokjin out of your hair.
You've reached the end of it by the time you're grabbing your purse and heading for the closest Olive Young.
It's just down the street, by the crossroads that lead into town, and the staff there have seen you in worse states. A little tipsy has nothing on the mascara-stained eyes they used to be greeted with during the worst days of the breakup.
"Sure about this?" Danbi asks just to check before you take the boxes in your hands to the counter.
"Absolutely not - but he always hated me blonde," you grin a little sardonically. The happiness that comes with this change will be temporary, but you have to remind yourself that so was he. "At least even if I can't resist him, he'll resist me."
Peroxide and perhaps a little fried, your blonde hair had caught his attention in the early days - but you had dyed your hair dark in a bid to keep it. 
He'd said some bullshit in a conversation amongst friends about his preferences, and how he favoured the 'natural look'. You weren't together at the time, not officially - but everyone there was a friend of his. They all knew you'd be going home with him. It only took two boxes of dye to get him asking to be exclusive. A week later he was introducing you to his friends as his girlfriend. 
Funny what a little bit of conformity can do for a man who loves playing by the rules. 
You assume his desire to tick the boxes and do what is expected of him is also why he was such a bellend when it came to the glitter you liked to dust yourself in. 
Nobody's perfect though, so he was willing to overlook it. Was just one of the flaws he perceived in you. When you love someone, you accept them.
He ultimately never grew to love it, but for a while, you thought he might.
Bleach boxes in one hand, another bottle of wine in the other, you waste no time and head straight for the bathroom. Danbi follows you right in. She's always there to lend a hand or at least provide a Spotify playlist to get you through your woes. 
Folding the powder into the developing lotion by the sink, you know your bleach-induced bathroom antics could get you a spot in a Brad Mondo video.
All a little haphazard, you're without a mixing bowl and brush, so are having to use an old takeout container and a plastic spoon, instead.
It's not quite how the instructions suggest you should mix it all up, but no good ever comes from following the rules.
You'd tried for Seokjin, and look where that got you.
Unlike him, trusty Tupperware has never done you dirty before. No reason why it should now. 
Danbi sits on the closed toilet seat, legs crossed, a small bottle of bubbles in her hand. The bubbles had been a Christmas party favour from the office job she'd quit four months ago. Rediscovered when she'd been cleaning her room earlier that day, Danbi had taken to blowing pretty little bubble flurries your way all afternoon. 
Your reflection is captured in the peacock sheen of the bubbles while you study your rapidly developing hair in the mirror. 
You haven't bothered to change out of your shirt. It's not yours. One of Seokjin's. It's navy, and you hope the bleach ruins it.
"I think I've fucked up," you say all rather calmy, talking about your hair and not the shirt. It's not the end of the world if you have. Just hair, you always think.
Danbi shrugs. Has clearly spent too much time in your company, because she echoes exactly what you're thinking: "Just hair, babe. It'll grow."
That's the joy of your friendship; you both encourage each other with the same dumb remarks whenever you feel like you've reached the point of no return. 
After all, if you can't go back? 
Go forward.
"Plus," she adds, blowing more bubbles instead of taking a breath. "You can just chalk it up to being your hot mess era."
"Been in that for months already," you smile at her in the reflection of the mirror. You prod a little at your roots, and know that you definitely should have waited a little longer to work the bleach up to them. Bollocks.
You've done this enough times to know you'll end up with a gold band haloing around the top of your hair thanks to how easily your roots always lift. Nightmare. 
"Exactly, so you may as well look the part," Danbi encourages. Worst influence going, she is. Also the best at times, too. You find comfort in the fact she won't always say what you want to hear, but what you need to hear instead.
The conversation dissolves into empty chatter, gossip about Danbi's dog walking clients, mentions of Taehyung and how he's still trying to talk her into a mates-rates discount despite the fact they aren't actually 'mates'. She asked you about your Bartender That Smiles, and you say he's all good - before you have to insist there's nothing going on there. 
"He's got issues with his ex," you explain.
She rolls her eyes. "Don't they all? Boys and their first loves, I swear to God."
"Not sure she was his first," you defend, though you're not sure why. The thought lingers as you rummage around for an old tube of toner that you know you have hiding in the bathroom cabinet somewhere. It's been a while since your hair was pale enough to take toner, so it's been pushed right to the back.
Danbi is shooed from her perch on the toilet seat and into the living room as you let the shower run to heat it a little.  
The first crash of water against your skin is lukewarm. Tepid. Unappealing, but necessary. 
You hate anything other than boiling-you-alive degrees Celsius, but know you need to be kind to your hair after the torture you've put it through. The water runs cloudy until the bleach is rinsed out, and then it runs purple thanks to your silver shampoo. It pools around your feet and seeps into the drain. Wishful thinking has you hoping memories of Seokjin will do just the same.
It's just to preemptively tone it, but you can't help but worry about the pigment taking too strongly on your roots. 
The ash toner you found in the cupboard is in a box by the sink. You plan on putting that over the top of whatever mess your hair is anyway, but it doesn't hurt to get a head start on the process. 
The water glistens a deep violet, briefly coating your skin - and for some reason, all you can think about is Jeongguk, and how you'd really like to be downing a Purple Starfucker (or five) with him right now. He really is the perfect distraction. 
Still, you have a task at hand. You rinse your hair; ring it out. Sigh as you frown at the mess that greets you in the mirror - lilac roots, a yellow band haloing just like your thought it would, and silver ends. Brilliant.
It's as you're sitting with Danbi in the living room a little while later - body wrapped in a towel that isn't half as fluffy as Jeongguk's favourite, ashy toner smothering your peroxide blonde hair - that you notice your phone flash on the coffee table.
Danbi clocks it first, and stifles a laugh as she reads the screen. "Isn't that the guy from the club?"
You assume she means Jeongguk, and are a little perplexed to see it's Jimin's name on your screen instead. 
"Yeah... Jimin. Smooth talker, shit shagger."
"A glowing review."
"Hey, I still let him think he was good," you say as you reach for your phone to read his message out loud to Danbi. "You guys out tomorrow night?"
Sipping on her wine, Danbi raises a brow. Shakes her head in confusion. "He hoping for round two?"
"Fuck knows."
It's just gone midnight, so you consider maybe he's thinking about his desire for a hook-up, and is hoping for a safe bet in the form of you. 
And so you don't reply. If he double texts, you'll just lie and say you've fallen asleep.
The scent of your toner is beginning to give you a headache, so you go to rinse it and bid farewell to your final day as a brunette.
Sleep evades you. Doesn't want to let go of who you were, apparently. Wine makes you sleepy, and yet you're wired as if you've just had a triple shot americano.
But then it's three in the morning, and all you can seem to smell is the deep conditioner you bathed your hair in that evening. 
Somehow, when you look to the empty space beside you - delicately ruffled, a dent prevailing in the pillow - you convince yourself that you can smell fig leaves and coconut. The notes of his favourite aftershave linger like the ache in your chest. It's hollow, and you can't work out why it hurts quite as much as it does. 
If there's nothing there, how can it be so painful?
You sniff back tears that fail to truly form and pull your phone from beneath your pillow. It's hard to move your fingers when they're tangled up in puppet strings that Seokjin is refusing to let go of, but eventually you manage to tap through some Instagram stories in a bid to distract yourself from him. 
Inspirational quotes don't do much for you, nor do the engagement pictures of people you haven't given a second thought since graduation. There's an abundance of them. Smiling faces. Diamonds, or maybe just cubic zirconia. Fresh sets of nails, hands that are pink and warm from the heat of whoever's been holding them.
It's a curious thought; what people who haven't spoken to you in years must think of you now. 
You were the one who was going to succeed. Going far in life, made for a boardroom, would look incredible in a pantsuit - and yet you're working in a cafe, first-class degree of no more worth than the tissue paper you flush down the toilet. 
See, you switched out life goals for glitter. You wear it like armour; protect yourself from the world around you. Who cares about seriousness and success when you're a constant disco? Not you. Could never be you.
Or at least, you hope that's what people think. Hope that no one realises you're covering yourself in artificial shine; like a canvas in acrylic because you were too impatient to watch the oil paint dry.
One day you'll glow. Glow for real. 
For a while, you thought you had been with Seokjin. 
All you see when you look in the mirror these days is tarnished silver; copper alloy pretending to be much more than what it really is. Your skin will turn green eventually.
There is, however, one person you've managed to fool. 
When his story pops up - a repost of tomorrow night's paint party event at Dionysus - you find yourself clicking through to your DM thread without much thought. You know he's at work. Know it's a 50/50 whether or not he'll get back to you before your mind begins to berate you again for how miserable you feel. 
It's a simple message - hey - and you're pleased that it's met with an equally simple reply not even a minute later.
JustJK: To what do I owe the pleasure?
You decided that 'I'm about to cry over my shitbag ex so chose to message you instead' probably won't be Jeongguk's favourite thing to hear, so you opt for a little white lie.
You: Just wondering how the kids are <3
Part of you worries he won't understand what the fuck you're on about - but of course, he does. He's Jeongguk. Gets you better than you get yourself, these days.
JustJK:  Missing their mother. 
JustJK:  Perry the Pigeon almost fell earlier.
JustJK:  Roger the Robin looks like he has a broken wing.
JustJK: Must be one of yours. Inherited his mother's wonkiness <3
With each message that comes through, your smile grows wider in the midnight darkness of your bedroom. 
You: Careful or I'll file for joint custody.
You: Get poor Roger away from his father's cruel remarks </3
There's an ease to how you joke together, both aware of how unserious you are. There's no second-guessing, no worrying about saying the wrong thing. If you do, you'll say sorry and move on. No harm, no foul.
JustJK: Your appeal won't hold up in court, Byeol.
JustJK:  You've neglected them ever since you spawned them.
JustJK:  Haven't even paid them a visit!!!
Laughter stifles in your throat as your body curls up into a more comfortable position. The audacity of this boy, you think, ignoring the way he manages to get you entirely focused on something that isn't your own despair.
You:  You've got full custody!!!
JustJK:  And you're still allowed to come for supervised visits!!!!!
JustJK:  smh and to think you call yourself their mother.
JustJK: I'm their mother now.
You pout at your screen, and whine a small little 'nooo'. 
You:  They need me :(
JustJK: Come and see them, then. They miss their mother.
You:  Tomorrow?
He reads the messages instantly, but takes a little longer than usual to reply. It worries you slightly. Makes you more aware of your surroundings. The scent of Seokjin's aftershave begins to permeate the air once more.
Until, all rather suddenly, it doesn't anymore.
JustJK:  I'm not working tomorrow night, but Jimin's insisting on going to the paint party - you coming?
You:  Will Perry the Pigeon be there?
JustJK: If he falls before I leave for the club, then yes.
It's not a bad proposition. One that quite intrigues you. One that has you agreeing, and him telling you to fuck off and go to sleep. He's got work to do, he says. 
It's actually quite quiet at the club - Yeonjun just caught him looking at his phone with a dumb smile a few too many times for Jeongguk's liking. Doesn't wanna get caught out again. 
Especially doesn't want him catching onto the fact that there's a reason Jeongguk's eyes light up like Disco Balls when he looks at his phone.
Yeonjun doesn't really have friends who are girls, Jeongguk reasons with himself. Won't understand that he's perfectly capable of having a little flirt without it meaning anything more than that - after all, isn't that just what banter is? Friendly flirting? He does it with the boys all the time. Doesn't mean fuck all. Just fun.
Jeongguk's a couple of years older than his cerulean-haired coworker, and has learnt the hard way that you really shouldn't escalate friends above the level of purely platonic. One day Yeonjun will realise this. 
For now, though, Yeonjun'll shag anyone who looks at him in the right direction. Has probably already ruined a few good friendships. Doesn't even realise he's done it.
Jeongguk trusts himself not to make the same mistakes he's made in the past with you. Thinks that he's pretty happy with how things are. Has missed the dynamics of friendships with girls. Is looking forward to Monday movie night with you and Danbi again.
And yet when he gets home to find Perry the paper pigeon on his bed, he can't help but smile.
You wake up to a picture of the fallen bird in your DMs - and even though you'll whine and complain about it when you see him that evening, all you can do is smile, too.
JustJK:  Looks like we're having a wholesome family trip to Dionysus tonight.
You: Mummy and Daddy reunited at last <33 Perry will be so happy.
JustJK: It's okay, you don't have to lie.
JustJK:  I know you're talking about yourself, not Perry.
Jeongguk doesn't send the message where he tells you not to call him Daddy. Knows you'll read into it; tease him about it. It's not like he's got a thing for it, or anything, he just... maybe wouldn't be opposed to it, and so he'd rather not be called it when he's having casual conversations with you. Wouldn't wanna get flustered. 
Part of you already knows this. Is precisely why you'd said it. It's not really your style, not the kind of thing that gets you going.
But it is also exactly why you choose to end your next message with, 'See you tonight, Daddy x'.
You're laughing as you send it.
And as he receives it, Jeongguk groans. Buries his head into his pillow. Crumples Perry a little in the process. Whines. 
"Don't fuck this up, Jeongguk."
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AO3 | MASTERLIST | NEXT
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alatariel-galadriel · 5 months
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feeling chilly in this winter weather? have you tried "having a wave of anxiety so strong it physically jolts your vision?" it'll warm you right up!
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grouchythefish · 1 year
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Me: takes a position I know I will hate because it represents a promotion and will help me reach the place I actually want to be faster at the cost of being miserable for a few months.
Me, three weeks in: realizing I fucking hate this position and am miserable and am dreading going into work because of it.
Me: [surprised Pikachu face]
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milf-harrington · 1 year
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in todays episode of Step Dad Hate Club, i just spent 20 minutes stuck outside while i was trying to avoid him which lead to me barefoot and ready to climb the side gate to get around through the front door until i heard him go back inside
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faeriesthrall · 2 years
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i have cried at work 2 days in a row this week. i love having a job:)
#i genuinely only have a day left in this department and my manager here was set on ruining my week#i genuinely had a report assigned to me out of the blue yesterday despite the fact that i asked whether i would need to submit anything#when i left this department#like i hate nothing more than a change of plans last minute and i cannot explain how frustrating this rotation has been because#the people here just don't want tk actually help me like everytime i ask for something they're like sure and then never do the thing?#like I'd not going to treat grown adults with kids like children and repeatedly ask them for the same shit#anyway so i get this report given to me and i haven't even had a chance to read through any other reports just so i have context#so i spent like 6 hours post work yesterday figuring the reports out using a template i literally only got from a coworker who isn't#even in this department so like this department continues to be fucking useless#so i spend my night working on this so i could have it done by 8 this morning and then i sent it to the manager#only for him to say its not what he wanted from me which like how would i have known what he wanted since he didn't fucking tell me#like ask for a failure investigation report and i gave you a failure investigation report#he now says he wanted me to research and explain the failure mechanism and describe it's process?????#like hello why didn't you fucking say that#i'm genuinely so pissed i've wasted so much time on this when i have an evaluation practice session on monday#anyway am i a crybaby? maybe but i just don't like having shit sprung up on me with poorly explained scopes because it's a waste of time#should this have gone into my journal? maybe#do i care? no
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be-good-to-bugs · 7 days
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crying shouldnt cause headaches, thats just cruel honestly.
#the bin#i went through to figure out costs more and im most likely not gonna be abek to bring almost any of my belongings#i can probably manage to at least bring my pets. my sisters boyfriends cat cant tow and it doesnt have a lot of space in it so im not gonna#have much room for anything at all. i guess maybe its a good thing my sister wont be coming then :/#honestly. im not actually THAT upset. he seems fairly chill and respectful of my boundaries. moreso than my fuckin sister is. not that thats#hard to accomplish. if i set a boundry with her she will most likely break it repeatedly and then also refuse to apologize#im still uncomfortable with it but not much more than i was with going with her anyway. i van just keep earbuds in the whole time probably#im really upset that ill have to leave my stuff here though. with her. i hate that. and im also probably not gonna have a bed when i move#and ill be sleeping on the concrete basement floor so uh. that sucks. a lot. my aunt probably has an air mattress i casn borror for a bit#im also probably gonna see if i can convince my sister to let me take one of her beta fish and the one tank she has for it. its a small tank#so i could easily bring it. its too smalm for the poor thing but its gonna be in that if it comes with me or her so. and i wanna get it#something better. ive become pretty attached to it after taking care of it for the past 4 months. ugh the fact she just ditched me with her#fish pissed me off so much too. not to mention the snakes were supposed to be a shared pet but she just stopped dling anything ever and it#became exclusively my responsibility to care for them and pay for all their stuff. she should not have pets of any kinda#im trying blt to be really upset. i can hopefully bring my most important belongings at least. his car isnt THAT small. and then ill only#need to pay for the gas and thats it and i can definitely afford that. hhhh. ill figure it out. i hate this :/#my head hurts so bad from having a 2 hour long meltdown. im so upset over our whole relationship and everything#she just keeps doing selfish things over and over again and treating me like an idiot for not knowing things she didnt tell me#specifically treating me like im stupid for not knowing she isnt gonna be able do what she specifically told me she could#im im so mad at her for the ditching me and the repeatedly taking advantage of me specifically for money and fucking me over#wnd everything before that. our whole relationship. im seo stressed abt this. i have nobody now.#i hate her so much. im glad i can clearly see how abusive things have always been bug it doenst make it sting any less#and it doenst helo the fact she continues this behavior now too
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asilentsongbird · 8 months
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Neuvillette pines for you.
Furina learns to avoid him simply so she doesn't have to hear about whatever thing you've done lately that Neuvillette is obsessed with.
The ache is so deep in his soul it almost hurts.
The rain comes in a downpour sometimes. To match the wetness on his cheeks. Though sometimes he can't tell if it's the rain or his tears on his face.
You find him like this one evening. An umbrella tucked under your arm as you find the Chief Justice on the shore, head bowed and completely soaked.
"Monsieur Neuvillette?" you ask softly, coming up behind him. Your umbrella is just big enough to protect him from the rain. "Are you alright?"
He turns to you with shock on his face, tears still running down his face. A thousand thoughts race through his head, everything from did you see him crying to why in the world are you out in the rain?
A soft, gentle hand touches his cheek. It takes him a moment to realize it's your hand, the softest thing he's felt. Instinctively, he wants to lean into the touch. So he does.
"Are you crying?" your voice is soft, concerned, without the barest hint of judgement he so easily passes on to the players of his court.
The umbrella is shoved into the crook of his arm, and another hand reaches up to join the other. You cup both of his cheeks, though he has to bend slightly to allow you to do so, which he does so easily.
"There," you murmur, brushing your thumbs under his eyes. Your smile is so soft, even softer than your touch. "You have beautiful eyes, Monsieur Neuvillette. I hate to see you so sad."
The rain stops suddenly, as though someone has turned off a switch in the sky itself. His cheeks are dry and the sky is clear, and before he can say a word, you're looking up at it instead of him, still smiling.
"The rain stopped." You sound so happy about it, he almost feels bad for making it rain. You press the umbrella further against his hand.
Your touch feels warm. Inviting, and soft. Everything about you feels soft to him.
"Keep it for next time, okay? I'd hate to stumble upon you wandering through the rain again. You could catch a cold!"
He clears his throat softly, trying to figure out words. He's pretty sure words didn't exist before you started talking to him, and now he's floundering over them like a child.
"Allow me to walk you home," he finally manages, as though he didn't stumble over words for the first time in his life.
You smile, and link your arm through his own when he offers it. The sky above you two hasn't been this clear and blue in ages.
Perhaps, after he finishes walking you home, he can figure out how to finally ask you to dinner.
But who knows, really. After all, if he cries again, will you touch him as softly as before?
There's only one way to find out.
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kasagia · 4 months
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Losing your memory
Pairing: Young! Coriolanus Snow x fem!Capitol! reader Summary: He used to be your Coryo. Now he has become the man you don't know. The Plinth heir. The future president of Panem. You pray every day to forget about the sweet boy you fell in love with, on whom you could always count. To forget who he was and lose the memory of the past. Just like he did. Well... not exactly. Unfortunately for you, he still wants to remember you. Inspired by: "Losing your memory" by Ryan Star Word count: 7,2 k ~•♤♤♤•~ Coriolanus Snow's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ Main Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~
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You've been avoiding him ever since you found out he was back in the Capitol.
A month ago, this news would have aroused great joy and ecstasy in you. Your Coryo is back home. He managed to shorten his exile and gain Dr. Gaul's favour again.
But the man who returned from District 12 was not your dear friend or lover. This wasn't your sweet Coryo, with whom you walked hand in hand to school. This wasn't the boy you shared your lunch with. This wasn't a boy who cared about your well-being above his own. This wasn't a boy who joked about snobbish children spoiled by the richest people in Panem with you and Sejanus at the end of the day. (Although he talked with them, trying to keep up good appearances—he used to call that one of the responsibilities of being Snow.)
The man who came back was Coriolanus. The new Plinth heir. The shell of someone you knew. The ruthless, cold pet of the mad creator of the Hunger Games you despised.
Sejanus' death didn't hurt you as much as the transformation of Coriolanus from the person closest to you into someone you barely even recognized. And from the tearful, sad, resentful, and disappointed stories you heard from Tigris, you had an accurate picture of the man who took your Coryo's place.
And you hated him with all your heart.
Especially after what he promised you when you stayed at his apartment for one snowy winter night.
You lay wrapped in the various blankets and quilts Coryo and Tigris could find. It was winter, and they didn't have much money for additional heating, so they mostly walked around the house in several layers and slept under piles of clothes.
You didn't know about that that night.
Tigris lent him her quilt so that he wouldn't have to be ashamed of the poverty his family had fallen into since you were supposed to come to sleepover with him after the argument with your parents.
Cuddling up to your blonde boy, you tried to fall asleep, listening to his heartbeat. You frowned at the sound of it being a little faster than usual.
You lift your head and look at him carefully. His gaze is distant and thoughtful as he lazily draws patterns on your back as he presses you against his chest.
"Coryo?" you whisper, cupping his cheek in your hand tenderly and forcing those blue irises you have loved so much to look at you. "What's wrong, sweetheart?"
He sighs long and presses a kiss on your forehead, the tip of his nose stroking your hair, as he is inhaling your scent. "I just... I just think about the fact that you deserve so much more. My grandma and Tigirs deserve much more than... this." he says with disgusting pointing at the room you were in.
"This..." you say, clasping your hands together and pressing a tender kiss to the back of his hand. "Is more than enough. You are all I need. And one day, when you are President of Panem or any other important figure in the Capitol, none of you will lack anything. This is a temporary state. You are too smart to be anything less than great, Coryo. You know it."
You see him hold back tears. He pushed your head onto his chest to rest his chin on your head. He is not crying. He almost never cries. But you know how close he is to it by the slight quiver in his breathing.
"I know I don't show it often enough... but you mean... everything to me. I can't imagine how I would go through these all without you by my side."
"I love you, Corio. Just promise me you won't forget this. What you went through, what you experienced. Don't forget your struggle. That's something you should never be ashamed of." he tenses at your words but leans in to kiss you passionately and hungrily. Putting all his unexpressed emotions into action and into that kiss that warmed you more than any blanket or radiator could ever.
"I promise. I will never forget how you kept me sane. When you were the only shelter I could go to and the only support that could bear the boundlessness of my troubles and doubts. How you were my only moonlight in the worst of my darknesses." you laugh softly, recognising part of his words.
"Quoting poets will get you nowhere, Coriolanus Snow." you say teasingly, rubbing your nose against him, at which he chuckles, licking his lips.
"Well... I've learned that in some situations, it gets me somewhere. And it's a very cold night tonight, don't you think? I can't let you freeze to death." he says as his hands go under your shirt—actually, his shirt that you stole from his closet.
"Well… I guess there's nothing left for me… but to place myself under your solicitous care." you sigh softly as he pins you underneath him, making sure the cocoon of blankets is still tightly wrapped around the two of you.
"I couldn't have said it better." he whispers and presses his lips against yours, stealing your breath countless times. He pulls away just a little to say against your lips, "You're mine. We belong together. No matter what."
He makes you shiver as you eagerly agree to everything he says. You don't realise how, in the future, you will curse every single intimate, sweet moment you shared with him.
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Ironically, you realise how deep he has gotten under your skin the moment he returns to the Capitol, and you have to avoid him, not when he is sent into exile.
It was probably because when he was gone, you were too distraught to bother leaving your room, opening the blinds, or wiping the tears that somehow kept leaking from your eyes to notice how almost every place reminded you of him. If you could, you'd go back in time and tell yourself there's no point in crying over the asshole he's become.
Although maybe you already felt that your Corio was leaving, and it was a way of mourning him?
Anyway, you saw him everywhere. Not Coriolanus. Coryo. He stalked you in the library, the park, the cafe near the academy that you two and Sejanus liked to go to, and of course the Academy itself. Kudos to your parents for not letting him into your house. At least he didn't pollute your room with memories of him.
Involuntarily, you wonder if he also sees you, for example, in every corner of his apartment. Or maybe he renovated it beyond recognition to erase all traces of his past?
You didn't know.
And you didn't want to know.
The information about him that Tigris gave you when you met her at your house when Coriolanus was at the university for classes was sufficient.
Just because it didn't work out with her cousin didn't mean you would abandon your only real friend. And just because things didn't work out with her cousin didn't mean she would stop (more or less subtly) encouraging you to go back to him.
"We talked about you." she says, making adjustments to your dress that she made for your birthday party thrown by your parents. Another one of the unpleasant responsibilities.
"You and your grandma?" you ask, trying to avoid HIM as a topic as much as possible.
"No. Me and Coriolanus." she says, pinning something to your waist—some decorative strip of fabric or something—you're not sure; you're too focused on the window and the bustling city as you are trying to ignore her words. "You know… I think… I think I saw in his eyes… the old Coryo. For a brief moment, but… maybe if you came back to him, he would come back to himself too."
"I'm sorry, Tigris, but I think he went too far on his path to simply go back to who he was. Surely not because of me."
"I understand… I just really miss him." she says it in a soft, broken tone, and your heart breaks at it. You hug her with all your strength, uniting with her pain that you also felt so deeply.
"Me too." you whisper in her ear as she cries into your shoulder.
Tigris was a very strong woman. She always impressed you. You wanted to be as strong as her. But even the toughest had to cry sometimes.
After all, there comes a time when even the snow melts... even if only for a little while.
You held him tightly in your arms as Corio cried into your chest.
His grandmother fell ill. Hard. Without a doctor, she definitely wouldn't be able to get out of this on her own, and they didn't have the money to pay for one, let alone the medicines.
Your boyfriend spent the whole day planning, thinking, and getting any money, but it was not enough even to buy the cheapest antibiotic.
However, you didn't expect that after you found out it all from Tigris and ran to him as fast as you could with the chicken soup prepared by your servants and all your pocket money, he would start crying.
Coriolanus Snow cried like a little baby.
You handed the money and soup to Tigris, who, after feeding up their grandma, quickly ran out with her to the doctor. At that time, you were holding your boyfriend in your arms in the other room, who simply fell apart from his helplessness.
"Shh… it's going to be okay, Coryo. She will live, falsify that stupid hymn and hate me for not being enough for you just as she used to." your attempt to comfort him didn't help. If anything, he only cried more, holding onto you tighter and tighter.
"I should be able to take care of them... I should be the one taking care of you, not the other way around. I'm pathetic and weak. I'm not worthy of being called Snow."
"Hey, my sweet boy, look at me. You are strong. You are the strongest man I know. You are looking after me all the time; you literally give me everything you have, the last piece of your food, to keep me happy, safe, and full when I forget to bring a damn second breakfast from home or don't have time to eat something. You love me, and I love you, and that's how it works. We care about each other. And I have never, ever regretted being with you. Because what we have… is more valuable than anything else in this world. I trust you implicitly, and I will always be by your side. You are not alone with your problems and suffering. Not as long as I am here."
"But for how long will you stay? For how long will you endure with me?" he asks, and after one look at those a little red from crying, beautiful blue iris, you answer without a shadow of hesitation.
"As long as you love me and I can trust you. As long as I breathe. As long as I am in your mind and heart. I am not going anywhere, Coryo. Money can be earned, but what we have... you can't buy it. What I feel for you is more dear to me than any treasure in this world and I will never exchange it for anything else." you promise, stroking his hair tenderly to help him calm down.
You should've then wondered why he doesn't agree with you then. Why doesn't he say that he also feels this way and that he also values you more than money, glory, and honours?
But he blinds you by telling you for the first time that he loves you.
And you cling to him, wiping the tears from his face with your lips and foolishly believing that your love is pure and eternal.
Like a driven snow.
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You knew this day would come someday. The day you let your guard down. But you hoped it would take a little longer before you came face-to-face with Coriolanus.
You are completely unprepared for this. You just freeze like a deer in headlights when you see his face at the end of one of the university's corridors as he walks forward, looking for something in his bag. Before you can even think about running away, he looks up, probably feeling watched, and his blue, icy eyes meet yours.
You both stand there transfixed, looking at each other, taking in the changes in your appearance since the last time you saw each other, which was after you broke up with him, when you saw how tenderly he treated Lucy Gray and how comfortable he was around her. And after someone politely informed you that he had kissed her.
"Y/N!" Coriolanus calls out to you and takes a step towards you, but you quickly step back and run through the crowd of people to get away from him. Unfortunately for you, he doesn't give up that easily. He never does. "Y/N! Wait!"
You have no intention of doing so. You run as fast as you can, bumping into several students along the way. You don't even bother apologising; you just run, hoping that Snow will stop being hot on your heels. Which, by the way, was a miserable dream after how fit he was after his training and the time he spent as a peacekeeper.
On the way, you notice a woman's bathroom and immediately run into it. You lock yourself in a cabin, thanking God or whoever is up that you managed to get an empty cabin and hide in it. You hear his quick footsteps and the door opening, followed by the screams of other women in the bathroom. You sigh in relief as you hear him obediently leave the room.
You're not leaving, though. You are not stupid. You know he's waiting at the door for you to come out. You decide to wait here until the end of the break between classes and hope that he will drop the idea of continuing to chase you and talk to you, and he will attend the lecture instead.
As the bathroom begins to empty, you realise that the next lectures must be soon. You stand silently on the toilet seat, listening carefully, waiting for the right moment to emerge from your miserable hiding place.
Just as you are about to reach for the doorknob, the bathroom door opens. You shiver as you hear heavy footsteps echoing off the tiles of the empty bathroom. And you think that you can smell the subtle scent of roses in the air.
"Come on, Y/N. I know you're here. I just want to talk."
Said the snake moments before eating the bird alive.—you think, mentally mocking how gentle he was trying to present himself. As if he could still be your Coryo.
"I have time. I can play hide-and-seek with you, if you want to. After all, you always liked to play this when we were kids. And you always lost."
You roll your eyes, listening carefully to his footsteps. He was opening the first cabin. You were in the middle one—the one a little closer to the door (and him).
"We'll have to talk eventually. You can't avoid me and ignore me, no matter how good you are at it lately. Let's stop this ridiculous, childish behaviour and go talk over coffee and some of your favourite cookies at the cafe near the academy. Just like the good old days. Well, this time all your orders are on me. What do you say?"
You would have snorted if it hadn't immediately revealed your hiding place to him. How dare he invite you to the place where you, he, and Sejanus spent the most time? To the place where your first unofficial date was.
He wanted to manipulate you, to make you believe that your Corio is still there and lives behind the façade of the rich, arrogant asshole he has become. But you knew better. His eyes told you everything you needed to know.
Even without Tigris' help, you realised that he... was a completely different person. He turned into somebody you only used to know in the past.
"Seriously? Still nothing? So you prefer the hard way, then..." he says, opening another cabin. You wait patiently for him to come to yours.
You breathe as quietly as you can, trying not to let him know which cabin you're in. You listen to his slow, measured steps as, with the incredible confidence and calm that is typical of him, he opens each cabin door, moving inexorably towards you.
Your heart quickens, beating madly, when you see his shoes in the whole, under the cabin's door. He reaches for the door handle, and before he can open it, you push the door against him with all your strength.
You hear him curse, taking a few steps back in a daze and holding his nose. You take the opportunity and run to the exit of the bathroom as fast as you can, not looking back.
"Fuck! Y/N! Are you insane?!" he shouts, running after you.
You reach the door just in time and slam it behind you, sprinting out of the university. You get in your car and drive away with your tyres screeching. In the rearview mirror, you see him leaving the building and following your car with a furious glare.
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"I can't believe you invited Snow." you huff, fixing your makeup in the mirror. Your father is buttoning his cuffs, and your mother stands next to you, also putting the finishing touches on her appearance. "You hated him when we were together."
"He is an ambitious and clever boy. Plinth did well to make him his heir. You should reconsider whether he really is that bad. This match would have opened many doors for us. Not only among Plinth's allies but also among Dr. Gaul. God knows how she favours this boy. Who knows? Maybe one day he will be president of Panem."
"If so, I will run away abroad." you say it bitterly, putting your lipstick back in your purse and adjusting the necklace around your neck to make yourself look perfect.
"Don't be stupid. Snow wouldn't be so bad for you. Since you are our only child, we must marry you well. Make sure your husband doesn't blow our fortune in a week. And Snow is a thoughtful boy. He wouldn't let you live below the poverty line."
"And he's quite handsome." your mother adds, straightening your father's tie. "Still, he's not a womaniser. I heard he turned down the... special attention of Crane's daughter and a few other Capitol's girls. I guess he's been alone since your breakup."
"Hmm. Great. He wouldn't cheat on me with other snobs in the capital, but he would fuck with whores in the district. The perfect candidate for a husband." you scoff, walking with them to the next room, where the photographers were waiting to take a photo of you together.
“Language, Y/N. You are a lady. Besides, it is not certain whether he and this Lucy Gray actually had something between them. After all, she's a woman from the district.” your mom says this, smiling for the cameras.
The flashes blind you a little, but with your father's and mother's hands on your shoulders, you somehow manage to keep your pose, fake, pretty smile, and opened eyes.
Your father thanks them and leads you out of the room and into the corridor leading to the great hall where the ball was to be held.
"And even if he did, it's good that he had some fun. It will make him appreciate the treasure that you are and see that you are irreplaceable." he says, taking the box out of his pocket. He hands it to you with a warm smile. "Happy birthday, my treasure."
"We've already given her..." your father shushes your mother. You send them a confused look as you open the medium-sized box.
You find a tiara there. A small diamond tiara.
"It will match your dress perfectly." your father says proudly. You nod and walk to the mirror to put it on, despising the object in your hands with all your heart. You may look like a princess, but you've never felt so... disgusted with yourself before.
This feeling intensified even more when, after a toast and receiving wishes from several of your friends and more powerful families, you managed to sneak out to the balcony. Not long after you, all the single, young men of the richest family on the Capitol entered, with Coriolanus among them. They each took a cigarette and started smoking, gossiping about the events of the week…
And their topic of conversation was exactly what you were afraid of when you got that fucking tiara.
"Have you seen this? I bet they're pure diamonds. Old Y/L/N wants to marry her off so much that he's using every trick possible."
"He doesn't need to do much. She is beautiful in her own right. But this character… it's easier to train a dog than such a stubborn cow."
"What Snow? Are you now regretting that the Capitol's Diamond slipped from your hands? I heard she wants nothing to do with you. How unfortunate that it happened at the moment when you started to count in the eyes of the elite, and now you really have any chance of grabbing this precious gem for yourself."
The Capitol's Diamond. You shudder, thinking about the nickname you've been given.
That's what they called you. The sole heiress to your parents' fortune. Diamond of the Capitol, the best match in the city, with a dowry greater than any other woman. Anyone who won your hand was guaranteed to reach the top and success with your family's connections, your charm, beauty, and brain. And these vultures knew it perfectly well.
You were curious how the new Coriolanus would react.
Your Coryo only took advantage of your position in society when he had to. He didn't ask you for money or for you to convince your father to whisper a good word about him here and there. Maybe it was because of his pride; maybe he really didn't care. You have no idea. But Coryo despised that term as much as you did. You wondered if that had changed as well.
"I'm still in the game." he replies evasively, sipping his drink. The others laugh and he frowns in displeasure.
"Sure. Because the way she ran away from you today when you approached her with a gift says exactly that." they mock him. You see him clench his jaw, glaring at them coldly as he considers his next move.
"Enjoy it while you can. Your good mood will end when our cat-and-mouse game is over and the Capitol's Diamond hangs proudly on my shoulder." you huff, shaking your head in disbelief. You come out of hiding, and all the men on the balcony tense up and look at you in surprise.
Especially Coriolanus. Suddenly everyone is staring intently at the garden of your estate, too shy to look at you. Except Snow. He drills a hole into you with his gaze as he thinks of a way to undo what he said.
"Gentlemen." you scoff, walking past them and ignoring Coriolanus' glare. "For your information, I would rather live in one of the districts than marry any of you. Enjoy the party." you add sweetly, walking back to the ballroom.
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The party is in full swing. You are talking to Thomas, using a sweet boy in a shameful way—to scare other men away from you. Just as you expected, they started flocking to you like flies to a fire.
So you chose the least spoiled of them. Thomas was nice and funny; you had a good time talking to him, and dancing with him was even better.
He wasn't rich; he wasn't part of the cream of society. You were really starting to enjoy spending time with him. And most importantly... he looked nothing like Coriolanus. He was nice for the eyes, but his dark hair, eyes, and sweet, shy personality made him drastically different from your ex. So he was the perfect break from your dramatic love life. Boring, nice change.
You danced to a waltz with him. He held you gently, close but respectful, not invading your personal space. He was a perfect gentleman. The man of your dreams.
If only Coriolanus' icy eyes weren't focused on both of you like a predator waiting for its prey to stumble, you would be able to enjoy Thomas' company to the fullest.
You are with him at the buffet, sipping drinks, when suddenly the last person you expected to meet here approaches you.
"Mrs. Plinth." you whisper in shock as he stands in front of you.
She looks—probably the way she feels. Nice on the outside and devastated on the inside. The dark circles under her eyes cannot be fully covered by makeup, and the deep black of her dress is a clear reminder of what she is still going through.
You can't imagine the pain he's going through right now. And you wonder why the woman decided to join her husband for your birthday party. Since Sejanus' death, she has rarely left their apartment.
"Y/N. Can I steal you from this young man for a moment?"
"Of course." you say, not even looking in Thomas' direction as you and Mrs. Plinth walk to one of the empty living rooms in your mansion. You close the door behind her and point to the couch. "Can I get you something to drink? Or to eat?"
"No. There is no need, darling. I just… I just came here to give you something." she says, pulling a thick letter out of her purse. "I… the letters from Sejanus are still reaching us. The flow of information between the districts and the Capitol is… very heavy and long. Especially when the peacekeepers are now checking every one of his correspondence. He sent it to you. Or rather, he wanted you to send it to him. Or rather, he wanted you to have it, just in case he couldn't… I'm sorry."
Your heart aches with sadness, seeing her on the verge of tears. She probably has no one to talk to about her son except her husband. After all, Sejanus was a traitor of Panem…
"He was a wonderful friend. The best one somebody could have. I could always count on him. Thank you for... taking the trouble to give me a letter from him. That... means a lot." you say, fighting the urge to hug the woman. The Capitol is not famous for acts of tenderness, mercy, or compassion. You had to keep up a facade. Always.
You take the letter from her and walk her to the exit. You give her one sympathetic look—everything you could afford in your position—and close the door behind her.
You sit on the couch and open the letter with trembling hands, trying not to look too closely at the way he wrote your name on the envelope. You know that will remind you of how you taught him how to decorate letters in his first days at the Capitol. Because everything here had to be perfectly beautiful. Even the fucking handwriting.
A bracelet falls out of the envelope and onto your lap. It is not particularly beautiful or sumptuous. It is a simple strap holding a peg-shaped pendant with some black, crushed stone placed behind a piece of glass.
You place it on the coffee table and open the letter with trembling hands. You already feel that after all this you will have to fix your makeup, which you will probably ruin with tears, but Sej's letter cannot wait until the end of the party.
Y/N, If you are somehow reading this letter, it means that I am not at your 20th birthday party, which makes me very sad. (You know how I love celebrating in your garden away from these Capitol's snobs.) Coming back, you know that I wish you all the best (along with Coryo. He's too big of a stick up his ass to write to you, even though he misses you and can't stop thinking about you. Take pity on me and write to this stubborn idiot, because I don't think I can stand another tirade about you and your perfection. Seriously. Our boy is getting mad because of this despair. I don't recognise him at all.) So, my dear friend, I wish you the best. I don't have any trinkets, interesting books, sweets, or anything suitable as a gift here, so I hope you'll be satisfied with what I came up with. I am not a poet, so don't laugh at me. I shall hear... or not. I made the bracelet, which you've probably already seen, myself. And that stone that is inside (and I hope it survived) is coal. I wanted to give this to you as a symbol of who you are to me. Everyone sees you as a diamond, something precious and beautiful. But for me and probably other people close to you, you are something more. This shiny diamond facade hides carbon. A simple coal, an ordinary soul like many others. But you made something more out of that ordinary coal. You are a diamond. Indestructible, the most durable of all. The purest form, preserved among the other gems and stones of the Capitol, because that's what all these power-hungry assholes are—coals that have decided not to change, to choose what is easy for them. I hope now you can see why I liked that nickname for you, diamond. So I hope you always stay true to yourself. No matter what. That's what I learned here, and I want to pass it on to you. Although I hope that by then the three of us will meet again in the Capitol. Do not wait for us both, Sejanus P.S. I miss you too.
You fold the letter and put it back in the envelope. You wipe away the tears that remain on your cheeks with your hands and take a few ragged breaths, trying to calm down.
You freeze when suddenly someone's arms wrap around you. The scent of roses hits your nostrils.
You get up from the couch like you've been burned and push Coriolanus' arms away from you. The feeling of sadness quickly turns to anger and pure fury as you stare at Snow.
"What the hell are you doing here?" you growl through a clenched jaw, extremely glad that there's a couch between you, or you'd hit him. And it was easier for you to explain your tears and smeared makeup than your red knuckles.
"Sweet, kind Plinth, giving you thoughtful gifts from beyond the grave. You love the dead Sejanus so much and ignore the living me. It must be hypocrisy on your part, don't you think? You accuse me of forgetting about Sejanus when you treat me so shamefully, worse than a dog. Should I die so that you can finally stop giving me the silent treatment and running away from me?"
"Believe me, you don't want to hear what I have to say to you." you huff, taking the bracelet and the letter. You hide them in the bodice of your dress and go to the mirror to fix your smudged makeup.
"You do not have to do that. Your boy isn't at the party anymore anyway." he says, standing so that you can see his reflection in the mirror.
"What?" you ask in surprise, turning to face him. You both stare at each other. In fact, you're only now getting a chance to take a good look at him. And you notice with dissatisfaction that the bastard found out from Tigris what your dress would look like, and he chose a suite so that both of you would match. "Where is Thomas?"
"Your little boy toy? Do you think he's enough of a distraction? That he can replace me? That he'll make you feel what I feel? Maby, that he can even protect you from me? Only I know you. I'm the only one worthy of your fucking attention and affection." you push past him, but he grabs your elbow.
"Touch me again and I'll cut off your hand and shove it down your throat." you growl, breaking away from his grip.
"Such aggression… I don't remember you from this side." he mocks you and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. You step away from him and cross your arms, staring at him defiantly.
"I will ask you one last time. Where is Thomas?"
"Let's just say that your mother and I caught him stealing your jewelry. We were merciful enough to solve the matter quietly. You will never see that garbage on the ball or any gala again. Certainly not on yours."
"Were you the one who framed him for this?" his silence and the calculating, self-proud look of the cat that caught the canary (or, in this case, the snake that choked the mouse) tell you everything. "What the fuck is wrong with you?!" you ask furiously.
You want to move past him, but he pushes you back, making you bump into the wall. He closes the gap between you in one step, pressing his chest against yours.
"You're mine. You've always been. You shouldn't lead this loser on or give him false hopes. We both know we will end up together."
"I broke up with you." you remind him, not caring about his intimidating attitude.
"A mistake I intend to fix." he says, leaning towards you.
His nose brushes against yours, and you shiver. You lift your leg, trying to kick him in the groyne, but out of the corner of his eye, he sees your sudden movement and grabs your thigh in a tight grip. If it weren't for the thick layers of material, he would probably leave bruises.
"You... you have nothing to fix. There is no longer us. I don't even know you anymore, Coriolanus."
"Don't." he growls at you angrily. You can see the desperation and madness in his eyes at the fact that you're using his name and that you wrote off your relationship. "It was always you. You were always mine, Y/N, and I was always your Coryo."
"Things are changing quickly. We are not the same, and now we have nothing in common, nothing to talk about."
"We have EVRYTHING to talk about. I still love.."
"DON'T!" you interrupt him. He freezes. You rarely shout, especially at him. That's why he takes a step back before putting on his impassive mask again. "Don't even say that. You have no idea what love is. Sure, you may feel attached and even desire me at some point, but you have no idea of unconditional, true love. So for old time's sake, leave me alone."
"What about you? Do you think you are so holy and blameless? That I'm the only bad guy? You lied to me. You promised you would stay with me, no matter what."
"I promised it to my Coryo. Not to you, Coriolanus. My Coryo died in District 12 with Sejanus—maybe even in the Hunger Games—when you let Dr. Gaul brainwash you in the name of fame, money, and position. You think that old hag didn't tell me why Sejanus is dead? That I don't know that your songbird has disappeared? That I would believe that Highbottom just got high or drank himself to death?" he clenches his jaw and fists at your words. You can see how furious he is, but he holds back, still controlling himself.
"Everything I did, I did for us. For you. For Tigris and Grandma." you laugh, wondering who he's trying to fool—himself, you, or both of you at the same time.
"No. You're doing it for yourself. Only for yourself, Coriolanus." he gets even more angry and pins you to the wall again. His cool blue eyes are raging with rage, and you try hard to push away the feeling of fear he has stirred in you.
"Do you want a reason to hate me? So you and Tigris can still gossip about my madness? Then maybe I should let this old man pursue her and sell her as a wife to one of them for good money."
"KEEP HER OUT OF IT! It's Tigris, Coriolanus! Tigris! The woman whose sacrifice you owe your entire fucking life to! A woman who went out of her way to give your ungrateful, selfish ass something to wear. Who sacrificed the love of her life in the name of maintaining the façade of Snow's wealth?! You can give a damn about me, Sejan, and even that little songbird of yours, but if you fucking ruin the life of your cousin—the only goddamn person who still cares about you—I promise you, in memory of OUR dead friend, that there won't be a fucking hole where you could hide from me."
You stare daggers at each other, both openly expressing your resentment towards the other. You have no idea why he still cares about you—is it because of your money, position, or some sick fantasy he has in his head, or maybe he actually still cares about you?
You don't think about it when a more important issue arises.
Suddenly, he grabs your face in both hands and pulls you towards him, greedily kissing you as he connects your lips after a very long time of separation. He caresses your lips with his and kisses you with such fervour as if he craves you like a hermit starving for water.
And for a moment, you feel like you were with Coryo, when all that mattered to you was the other one, when you could get lost in each other, forgetting about the rest of the world and the worries that were waiting for you.
And that's exactly what he's doing now. He makes you forget about anything but him.
You can't help but moan into his mouth as he presses his body against yours. When he releases his strong grip on your cheeks to grab you around your waist and press you against his body, his leg is between yours.
He kisses you more hungrily, groaning too at the familiar warmth of your body against him and the feeling of your soft, silky skin pressing against him. The scent of your perfume mixes, creating a perfect combination of roses and your favourite flowers. Your hands automatically go to his hair as you hold on to him and press him to you. You don't like the gel on your hands from his hair, but you ignore this new, irritating feeling by biting his lip.
You don't think at all. As well as Coriolanus. You both just kiss each other, your tongues joining, as you both let your desire for one another take control of the situation.
You only come to your senses when your lips break apart. You gasp, trying to breathe again, as he fucks your exposed collarbones with kisses. Your brain comes back to you as he leaves a hickey on your neck. He bites you, making you moan so needily that a wave of shame washes over you with his tongue, soothing the bite. You push him away from you and place your hand on your chest, trying to regain control over yourself.
"See? We belong together. There is no other way, Y/N. We are all we need."
"Bullshit." you gasp, trying to ignore the possessive, smug feeling blooming in your chest when you see his messy hair and your lipstick smeared on his lips. "Since you are that good in losing your memory, then forget about me too."
"I can't. I just can't. You think I haven't tried? That you don't haunt me every damn step I take? Everything I have and everything I know is saturated with you. With the memory of both of us. I forgot about what I had with that songbird and my friendship with Sejanus, but I simply CAN'T forget about you. I haven't spent a single damn day without thinking about you. NOT EVEN ONE. And I know you felt the same way. Do you know why I didn't kill that stupid boy who was clinging to you? Because I knew it would make you hate me even more. I was alone without you at 12, and you know how it ended. You are my conscience. Without you... there's nothing holding me back. Without you, there is nothing to distinguish me from the Hunger Games tributes. I have no borders, mercy, compassion, or anything that makes people human beings. And Gaul knows it. That's why she told you all of my crimes; that's why you're paranoid now that I'm someone completely different. But it's still me. I. Am. Still. Your. Coryo." he says it firmly, taking a step closer to you with each word.
"Don't turn me into a fucking cricket for your Pinocchio. I am not, and I do not want to be your conscience. I will not take part in your lies, games, and manipulations." you say as you both stare at each other, neither of you wanting to concede to the other in any way.
"I will have you. One way or another, but I will. Even if it is the last thing I do, I will have you by my side. Just where you always belonged. I promised you to be my First Lady. And I intend to keep that promise."
"You must become president first. And believe me, I will do everything in my power to prevent that from happening. Maybe you can't forget about me. But I can. I do not need you. I never needed you. How ironic to be able to lose the memories of everyone except the girl who will be the end of you, isn't it, CORIOLANUS?" you mock him, a smirk on your lips, making him a promise.
You walk past him, and this time he lets you go, knowing full well that he won't do anything more with you today. At least he got his kiss and a little taste of you, a reminder of the reward that awaits him when everything finally falls into place. When he finally has you in his arms and is at the top of Panem—his rightful place.
"The game has just begun!" he shouts after you, staring at you as you head towards the bathroom to touch up your ruined makeup. It gives you satisfaction to think that this bastard will probably have to clean himself up after your little make-out session, too.
You think that maybe Gaul was right about the Hunger Games being the whole world. But the reality was that there could only be ONE winner.
And among the people of the Capitol, only you and Coriolanus had a real chance of winning. It has always been like that. And even lost memories that do not want to go away so easily are proof of this.
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Part 2
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dcxdpdabbles · 24 days
Text
DCxDP fan fic Idea: Danny Fenton's Ex
Danny wants to know that he did not go looking for a fight. He merely wanted to have some of the best hot dogs this side of the USA, in Tucker's words. The human world had changed a lot across differnt timelines but his best friend had assure him, this one was particually tasty.
He planned to pop in, hunt down the street cart filled with buns and meat, then pop out of Gotham. He was meant to visit for less than an hour at most.
He just happened to be at the wrong place and time. It really wasn't his fault! Danny had been minding his own business, using a paper map on the edge of a tall building (his phone had broken in the last ghost fight. Not that it would do any good since it wasn't connected to any living towers), squinting at the streets below, hoping to figure out where he was. The next thing he knew, an angry child leaped out at him with a sword.
Of course, he defended himself! The kid was doing some insane slashes in the air, and Danny had fought enough samurai ghosts to know not to underestimate how powerful a katana indeed was. He had been able to beat the child, encasing his arms in ecto-chains, after a full half hour of combat.
Danny had been dead tired- pun not intended- but just as he thought he was done, a second child had leaped out at him. This one carrying a bo-staff. It took another thirty minutes to beat this one, and just as he was gearing up for a lecture, a third child appeared.
She was wearing all purple and seemed to favor strong kicks. Danny had the bruise to prove it, but just as he could take her down—and stop the other two from escaping since they were attempting to do so—he was attacked by an actual shadow and her red bucket-head friend.
Now, those two were difficult to beat, especially when it was two vs. one. Shadow reacted as if she could predict all of his moves before he even made them, while Bucket Head made incredible shots with his guns covering her attacks.
Danny had already been expelled from his other two fights, so it was a miracle he was able to trick Shadow by allowing more of Phantom to bleed into his fighting style. She couldn't predict the dead!
He ended up on a roof with five children- okay, more like a child, two teenagers, and what could be the early twenties, but they were all young to him. Each was tied up securely with some of his own ecto-chains and glaring- he could feel the hate in their eyes even behind their masks- trying desperately to catch his breath.
"Oh boy, I'm not as young as I used to be. " He gasps between huffs. Maybe Sam was on to something when she lectured them for not having enough greens, normal exercise routines, or even taking vitamins. They really weren't teenagers anymore. "Ugh, I think I pulled something. I need to lie down..."
Just as Danny is allowing himself to slide to the floor, two more shadows jump at him. This time he's far too tired to dodge, and the blue one manages to land a drop kick to his chin. The force has Danny spinning in place, losing his balance, and slamming hard against the roof.
The tied-up children cheer, and if he wasn't a walking bruise right now, Danny would be half tempted to show them all a round two.
"Great Gatsby!" He cries out of reflex, rolling onto his back, ready to take a swing-
"Danny?" a new familiar voice cuts in. The sound is something Danny will never forget, even after all the years they have been apart. He used to fall asleep to that voice, muttering into his hair and warm arms wrapped around him, making promises never kept.
Danny whips his head around to see a man in a bat costume. He squits, studying the strong curve of a very familiar jaw and his voice-
"Wayne?" He blinks. Those lips- so familiar and different all in one- curve into a surprise, but please smile. Yes, that is definitely Bruce.
"Danny, I haven't seen you since-"
"You broke up with me through a letter on the hotel note-pad? A note-pad that I had to pay for since you touched it!?" Danny hisses, suddenly energized with pure, unadulterated rage. The man freezes.
"I, uh, see you're still upset about that." Wayne winces, shuffling on his feet- Bruce Wayne, the little human he found wandering the Infinite Realms, rescued, helped, trained, and had become human again to have the man dump him to "find himself."
Danny knew he found a lot of ladies on his self-discovery trip. He never forgave him. It has been embarrassing to have to return to the Realms to his friends' knowing eyes and his sister's sad shrug.
You knew a human could never understand or live with beings like us. We aren't like them anymore. She had told him. It was bond to end in disaster.
"What is happening?" The bow-staff kid asks
"I don't know, but I don't like it," Blue tells him.
Danny ignores them to glare at the man. "What the hell are you doing here, Wayne?"
Wayne frowns. "You used to call me Bruce."
"I used to do a lot of things, Wayne." Danny stands, gesturing to the group of people he has captured. "Can you kindly disappear again? I'm in the middle of something."
The man makes no move to leave. Instead, he tilts his head. "Those are my children."
"Of course they are." Danny rolls his eyes. "Tell them to not attack innocent tourists-"
"Are you here on vacation? Would you like me to give you a tour?"
The familiar words- the ones from their first date- make rage boil in his core. "Oh, go burn in the worst levels of hell!"
He doesn't stick around for a reply, twisting in a tight circle and ripping a hole into the Realms. He ignores Wayne's call of his name; it's too late- fifteen years too late- and shifts back into Phantom.
He prays he never sees that deadbeat again. Or the family his wife gave him. Not that Danny cares; it's been years, and he could care less what Bruce Wayne and his stupid kin got up to.
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"Bruce, I say this with all my heart, what the fuck was that?"
"That was the one I let get away."
There is a moment of silence before Damian speaks up. "I demand to be taken out of my misery. Mercy, kill me now, Drake."
2K notes · View notes
satoruhour · 4 months
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Just thought of something FREAKY in class… Single father Satoru looking for a babysitter and you’re looking for a side income during semester break and the tension goes crazy!!!! “We should’t be doing this my son will wake up” I’M GONNA SCREAMMMM
BLISS, PURE BLISS
a/n: happy new year LMFAOOO. thank you for all the asks btw i promise ill answer them asap 🥹 / @shotorus @osaemu @shidouryusm @mysugu @hyomagiri ♱
wc: 6.4k
warnings: ‘onee-san’ used but more of just addressing reader as an older figure because saying babysitter is kinda weird lol (kind of like how chinese people use 姐姐 even if they are not related), fem!reader, dilf!gojo, age gap (gojo in his late 30s, reader in mid-20s), angst if u squint, bit of slow burn n tension, making out, use of ‘slut’ and ‘whore’, praise, oral (f! receiving) / cunnilingus, clit stimulation, unprotected sex, p -> v sex, multiple rounds, consensual filming, creampie / breeding kink, n*sfw under the cut
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“no fucking way . .” you mumble mostly to yourself, standing in front of the largest house of the gated community in roppongi, and while you knew the people here were excessively and obnoxiously rich, you’re never quite prepared until you’re getting a key card specifically mailed to your name just so you could enter.
you’re not even shameful when you take a video to send to your best friends, locking your screen almost immediately because you knew you’d never get to the job on time if you replied to them. with calculated steps, you’re walking up the house that’s designed with a modern structure, yet still retaining characteristics of a traditional japanese home. it’s less prominent at the front of the house, though.
“(y/n)-san, was it?” a voice startles you out of your ogling sessions. if the garden was already this nice, what would be in store for you when you went in? you’ll be finding out soon when your employer himself opens the door to you, a man with striking white hair and equally striking blue eyes that seem to look right into you. he’s dressed in a suit, probably no doubt ready to get to work while you’re out here taking your time. you cringe, immediately walking up to the door.
“y-yes! yes, i’m sorry sir, i was just uhm—”
he holds that intimidating stare just for a moment but then he breaks into a smile that mirrors the bright sun that shines down on the porch.
“it’s alright . . it’s not everyday you’re working at some rich guy’s house, right?” he jokes but that strikes a little ick into you — he’s already ticking the boxes of obnoxious and excessively rich, but you hate the effect he’s having on you.
“yeah . . no, i guess,” he hums in reply before sticking a hand out.
“gojo satoru,” he introduces himself, “call me anything but that sir shit, alright, doll?”
you nod obediently, trying not to let the little pet name get to your head because he probably does this to any babysitter who comes through the house, but either way, he’s welcoming you in and it’s like you step into a world unreal. it’s spotless, the floors shining under the sunlight, a large television in the living room, a spacious open concept dining-kitchen area, and this is just the first floor.
gojo takes his time to show you the house — where his kid’s toys were, where the food was, where the bathrooms and bedrooms were, it was never-ending. every step you took made you feel like you were walking the length of the nile, each turn only revealing more rooms and corridors.
and then, finally, his baby boy.
“he’s a cheeky one, takes after his dad,” even with all the cockiness he’s shown to you, you can tell he has a soft spot for his kid. the boy stirs from his father’s voice, gleaming in happiness as he puts out his smaller hands to be picked up. as he settles into his arms, it’s just sinking in how tall your employer is. he makes a toddler look like a baby with how small his son looks wrapped snugly.
“satoshi, hi,” he whispers, bouncing the kid in his arms, “want to say hi to your onee-san?”
you manage a small wave but all he does is turn to hide in his father’s arms, definitely scared from a random stranger suddenly talking to him.
“she’s going to be taking care of you for the next month or so, you know?” he mumbles, brushing a hand through the matching white hair, “be nice to the babysitter, okay?”
all satoshi does is hum into his dad’s neck before he’s giving you a sheepish smile. “he’s like that, don’t worry about him.” and you return the smile, thinking that he wasn’t that obnoxious that you thought and that maybe he’s really a dad trying his hardest for his one kid. you realise he’s taking too much time, though, and so you sought out to remind him.
“oh, uh sir— gojo-san, don’t you have to go to work?”
although he’s mentioned satoshi to be taking after him, the boy goes right back to sleeping when he’s put back into his bed so you follow gojo as he adjusts his cuffs and smoothes out his collar just outside the room and you make the mistake of glancing upon the mirror on the far end of the corridor — it was undeniable that you looked like a high-end couple who’s newly married and raising a kid. you try to shake off the thoughts of adjusting his tie for him.
“it’s not being late if you’re on top.” he smirks and you resist the urge to roll your eyes; at least you weren’t alone in purging the delusional thoughts from your head, he was basically helping you at this point and you struggle between characterising him as conceited and admirable. “but, yeah, i should get going.”
but he stands at the door with backpack slung onto one shoulder while he continues to explain satoshi’s routines to you, his habits and also had to sneak in a few cute photos of the kid while squealing repeatedly and you’re left wondering how this guy could be the CEO of a company.
it’s been like that for as long as you can remember — bidding goodbye to your parents as you tell them that you’re off to your part-time job over the winter break. they’re happy you’re even leaving the house, shoving your lunch into your hands with big smiles that you’re at least doing anything other than sitting in your room. the train ride to the gated residential was nice, too, apart from the very crowded subways for people going to work in roppongi.
gojo greets you every morning when you arrive, reminding you of satoshi’s feeding times and his favourite shows and everything a father should know but don’t have the luxury to experience with aforementioned kid. it’s a little bittersweet, every time you see him kiss satoshi goodbye that turns into remaining in his room, to holding your hand and saying goodbye to daddy from the second floor, to getting carried by you at the front door.
it’s slow but sure progress day after day, from watching his cartoons, feeding him at the kitchen island, playing with his toys, that satoshi feels more and more comfortable with you, learning that while he was a well-behaved boy, he definitely had hints of your employer in him. mannerisms, words, voice, you wonder whether he even got any part of his mother in his genes.
you’d never ask, though, but it was told. unexpectedly.
“i’m home—” the last parts of his word die down into a whisper when he opens the door to see satoshi cuddled up to you, the last bits of home alone playing softly. by now you already know what happens in the movie so you’re texting your friends and laughing softly to yourself, jumping when your boss steps past the doorway. gojo winces when he checks his watch (“fuck. it’s already ten.”), toeing his shoes off and apologising simultaneously.
“oh— man, i’m so sorry, i had a late meeting with the CEO of our neighbouring franchise, i totally forgot about the time—” gojo’s quick to make his way down to the small pit of the house (he likes to call it the conversation pit), settling down on the side where satoshi had his head in your lap as his eyes linger on the movie. instinctively, his hands reach to pat his leg.
“oh, it’s okay, gojo-san, it’s the holidays anyway.”
“yeah?” he turns to you, one arm propped on the back of the sofa, “and why don’t a pretty girl like you have any plans?”
that catches you off-guard, among the many other times he’s called you pretty or sweets like no care in the world. you’re never quite used to it, too, seeking to fluster you. “you shouldn’t say stuff like that to me, gojo-san . .”
“why not?” he’s turned back to the television, now, and you take his place, staring at his side profile as the scenes of the movie move along his face. “i’m a single dad, aren’t i?”
“yeah but . . you could have anyone.”
“what if,” he turns and you chicken out, head snapping back to the front while he watches you and the both of you cannot deny the tiring dance you perform around each other all the time. the clench in his heart when he sees you carry his baby boy at the porch and the small smile he gives you every morning before he leaves for his job. he doesn’t want to go through with it and sighs.
it’s become hard to breathe around you. it’s become hard to hold himself back around you.
“i worked too much.” he suddenly says, facing the TV again. “i was too engrossed and . .”
confusion seeps in at first. yeah, it was no secret he worked his ass off despite being at the very top. your gaze falls to satoshi, curling more into your side like he’s cold and you adjust the blanket. you nod in recognition.
“we fought a lot. i tried— i tried to alter my schedule as much as i could, driving to and fro whenever she needed me, bringing satoshi to work as a baby when we couldn’t come to a compromise, but it was a lot. for her, for satoshi. he could sense whenever we were about to fight, on edge voices, items clattering to the floor . .”
by now, he’s leaned back, back of his hand resting on his forehead, “and he’d cry like he was interrupting us. cheeky, i told you,” and his eyes close, “we hardly reached middle ground. it was either this or that, hire a nanny or we take care of him, my endless job or the joy of life. i’m ashamed that i’ve prioritised my job more, and still do it now.”
“if you didn’t, i wouldn’t be here, would i?”
that draws a chuckle out of him, “correct.”
“she couldn’t take it, not when she was a businesswoman on top of that. she was out doing herself at every aspect in her job, going to greater heights, and while she accused me of putting work first, she isn’t entirely innocent, either. but that’s . .”
“you don’t have to say anything, gojo-san,” you mumble as you watch the reunion of the characters in the movie before the screen cuts the black, no doubt affecting him in some way at the warmth displayed by the movie that contrasts heavily with his situation, “the fact that you even told me is . .”
the heavy atmosphere is disrupted by satoshi gasping, “papa! you’re home.”
you exchange awkward smiles as you watch the boy fight his way out of the blanket to hug gojo, the latter huffing when the boy drops his body weight on him and you take it as a sign to give them a bit of privacy, standing up to clean up the popcorn and cups. laughter and your employer’s voice resonate throughout the place even as they go up the stairs, a rare occasion where gojo is able to get his son ready for bed.
it’s only maybe an hour later when the house falls into silence. mouth burning from the mouthwash, the heater in satoshi’s room turned to a high setting, one bedtime story was read (which, he fell asleep halfway), the boy was out like a light. you felt it inappropriate to leave without at least saying goodbye, but you also didn’t want to cut into their time together; at least, that’s what you told yourself.
so you waited with your things on the kitchen island, getting a risky text just as gojo comes down, still in his suit from work.
[11:02pm, nobara -> you] BITCH GET THAT DICKKKKK!!!!!!! 
and you yelp softly, slamming your phone down onto his marble counter. thankfully, he doesn’t notice, eyes close to shutting from fatigue. 
“oh, shit, you’re still here?”
“i thought it would be, weird, if i didn’t say goodbye,” you get ready to leave, slinging your tote bag on, “but i also didn’t want to intrude on your time with satoshi, limited as it is.” well, you did also wish something would happen, but you had too much pride to admit it to yourself.
“you got a ride home?” he yawns and you feel guilty for extending your stay already. you didn’t even need to worry about the front door, he lived in a gated community for christ’s sake!
“um, not really, but i can always book an uber home.”
“i’ll drive you home, it’s unsafe,” is all he says like he’s trying to convince himself, “let me just get changed and we can go.”
gojo doesn’t leave you any room to protest before he’s up the stairs again and you’re left with a pounding heart and dizzy head, not sure what might ensue. you know him to be honourable; you’ve seen him with his child, you’ve seen him interact with his neighbours, but a late ride with your boss sounds sketchy as it is.
but it doesn’t feel like it when you feel the tokyo wind blowing through your hair, a slight gap in the window bringing you the chills of the night as he silently drives you back home. sitting in your employer’s car most of all felt weird, but even more so when he’s reaching your home faster than the gps system had predicted. his knuckles are white.
“you—”
your head snaps to him, “yes?”
his car headlights are the brightest in the parking lot where every car is silent, quiet, much like his clammy hands and red cheeks. gojo satoru turns to you, feeling that familiar tug in his heart and lump in his throat for the first time in a while, and he can’t speak.
but you lean forward like your life depends on it and you leap inwardly when you see that he does the same. eyes trained forward, your stares boring into the other, waiting to see who’d close their eyes first. you just stop short of an inch, met with the hypnotising swirls of raging oceans in gojo’s eyes and you swallow when his eyes flit down to your lips and back up like he wouldn’t get caught.
with shaking hands, your fingers trace over his lips and you sigh when you feel just how soft they are, just like his skin, just like his eyes when they look at satoshi. your heart skips a beat when he just lightly kisses the pads of your fingers, and that encourages you to cradle his cheek, up his jaw, up his undercut.
“let’s just kiss, yeah?” he was afraid that if he spoke too loud, he’d shatter the glass, snap the string of tension, voice cracking until you swallow it, you stomach his nervousness with a lively, strong kiss from your lips to his, and he just melts.
gojo hums into the kiss, leaning forward over the stick shift and into the passenger seat before you counter it with your own movements: hand on his shoulders and pushing until you’re on his space of the driver’s seat and playing the game of tug that’s been going on for the past few weeks. you win.
“god, you’re so . .” gojo whines out when you climb onto him, whispering into your mouth while you get comfortable in your straddling position, cutting him off with a second, rougher kiss and you both moan softly, passion taking over in the evident way your arms scramble to wrap around him while he pulls you flush against his front.
the car is filled with sounds of your kissing, something that definitely shouldn’t be done in his home and yet you risk it all in your home’s parking lot. you break the kiss and hide in his neck, already starting the makings of a hickey there while your pelvis selfishly grinds into his front and he kneads your ass. in the mingling of breaths and moans, he’s left to stop the two of you when there’s a muffled ringtone coming from your bag and you swallow at the insanity of the situation.
“i’ll see you, monday, right?” gojo breathlessly says later, bulge still showing through his sweats while you hang outside the driver’s side, not wanting to leave. he takes your hand, planting a peck on it and then brings you in for another harmless kiss.
“yeah, gojo-san . . monday.”
you lose count of how many times you’ve swallowed throughout the night, but he says something to lift the mood just a bit.
“we just made out and you’re still calling me by my last name?”
you laugh lightly, “monday, satoru. i’ll be there, same time, on monday.”
gojo leaves a farewell kiss to the inside of your wrist, “attagirl.”
 but if you’re not careful, it might just happen in satoru’s house.
the remainder of your employment at his house is tiring. it’s so hard not to kiss him before he leaves for work, so difficult not to long for him while you take care of satoshi, so entirely harrowing not to claim him as yours as you watch him play after his work. at this point, you’re hoping school will just start soon and the rush of assignments and readings will take your mind off of it, but you cannot deny the excitement every time you leave your house.
“you’ll bring food and cook every monday, wednesday, friday, and i’ll order food for the both of you every tuesday and thursday, how’s that?” gojo thinks it’s time to introduce him to larger pieces of food, but it’s gone past that by now and to your meal arrangements.
“i’m okay with cooking, though!” you assure him, and plus, you loved your parents’ home cooked bentos that they give you everyday, “do we gotta?”
“sorting out meals is tiring, (y/n),” gojo takes the place beside you, leaning against the counter just like you before drinking out of his cup, “i want to at least help at little.”
“you already are.” you smile, “i can see you making the effort.”
“it’s not enough, though, i could be doing better.”
gojo hates how this scene sets up — like two parents just figuring out the best for their kid — it’s a callback to the memory in the same exact kitchen. at least all you do is kiss and make out, because he wouldn’t know what to do if you moan out his name in that same intimate way that threatens his walls to come down again. he loved sex, he loved the bedroom, but he’s riding a thin line the way he’s doing with you.
“you are,” is everything that you say, and you leap forward to kiss him. you do it so hard that he has to put down the glass to fully embrace you, walking you backwards to the conversation pit and he carries you so effortlessly because he doesn’t want you walking backwards down some stairs.
he hates how you bring him into your lips, he hates how gently he lays you down, and he hates how you accept the kisses down your neck and body. you, on the other hand, aren’t doing so well, either — it’s either a hit or miss with a broken man like gojo satoru, and you’re stepping on glass shards hoping you don’t say anything wrong with him because he’s trying his best but he just can’t see it.
“are you okay with this?” he asks halfway down your torso and he gets lightheaded from how well his hands cover your waist. “tell me to stop, and i’ll stop.”
“n-no . . keep going, satoru.”
he exhales shakily at that, fingers tugging your top up and his hands are so cold you resist shivering, but you do anyway from the sheer fucking craziness that gojo drives you into. one pop of your button, and you’re already lifting your hips off the couch for him to remove your pants but movement on the stairs make you halt.
“papa?” satoshi calls out sleepily, rubbing his eyes and pouting. you can see it, almost, with how much time you’ve spent with the kid, and you hope he can’t see you. “i . . i had a nightmare and i just— i wanna sleep with you.”
he’s started sniffling and you feel your heart break that he knows his papa well enough to know he would never sleep in his room. his job always has him sleeping out in the living room.
go. you mouth, kissing your fingers and pressing it to his lips before he puts on a show — yawning, stretching his arms, already making satoshi feel at ease with his theatrics before he’s stopping at the foot of the stairs to look back at you. you already know gojo satoru has redeemed himself a hundred times over. i’ll see you tomorrow. 
funnily, satoshi somehow does have some intervention powers, because each time the both of you attempt to go down on each other, he’s either saying he threw up, or he needs to use the toilet, or that he’s hungry. while you both love him to death, it’s also becoming difficult to hold back each time you see each other. his car in your parking lot is all he has and you dare not to go to his workplace where rumours would spark.
so after a tiring night of getting a hyper satoshi to sleep, you’d at least try. at this point, you know not to expect too much out of it, starting always with some talking. it was easy to talk to your boss, and when you phrase it like that, it did come off a little strange, but it was far from that when your boss in his late 30s looked just like he did ten years ago and that he had crazy blue eyes and insane white hair and was hot.
“thank you for taking care of him for the past month and a half,” gojo thanked you, leaning over to give you a peck to the temple, “it means a lot.”
“he’s a sweet boy, plus, i do need the money,” you giggle, nudging him, “and it did let me get to know you . .”
“certainly,” he mumbles. drunk off your scent, he leans in again, kissing you fully on the lips now. you hum softly, going on your tippy toes and wrapping your arms around his shoulder. swiftly, he props you on the kitchen counter and you yelp in surprise, unable to help the throb of your pussy when he slots himself in between your legs.
jokingly, he puts his hand to his ear. “no satoshi interruption tonight?”
you smack his shoulder, “don’t jinx it.”
he laughs, a proper laugh before he sighs shakily, fingers thumbing your sides gently. “you know . . we shouldn’t be doing this,” you feel your heart sink a little, but he quells it with hovering lips over yours, “he could hear and wake up.”
“then why have you been accepting all my kisses, gojo satoru?” your eyes challenge him, but you know one touch from him would have you submitting to him. his breath fans over your lips, and you can feel his pulse speed up when your fingers go over his neck, to his nape, to his undercut. you run your fingertips through it.
“you have too much power over me, simple.” that sentence has your eyes fluttering close. it’s too much for you and yet you welcome it with open arms, “it’s become so bad that you’re all i think about.”
“is that so?” you pull lightly on his hair.
he nods, foreheads touching now and he’s trying to hold himself back, but, “i’ve been holding back, entirely too much, baby, and i don’t think i can, anymore.”
“yeah?” you whisper, bringing him in with your legs, “show me, then.”
gojo satoru decides that maybe taking the leap isn’t so bad, so he fully gives himself to you, tugging your lips to his in a clashing kiss that has you groaning in pain just a bit. he giggles and apologises and tries again, and this time, it’s got your hips moving against him, whimpering into his mouth. gojo’s hard just from kissing, something that he’s desperate to relieve himself off so — he’s whispering for you to hang on while he slots his hands under your ass and lifts you.
satoru knows his house well, walking up with you in tow and lips still on yours, right into his room. you giggle when he plops you down and he’s already looking forward to ravishing you, but —
“let me check on satoshi for a sec.”
you laugh silently, “of course, satoru, go.”
and once your boss’ made sure his son is out cold in slumber, he’s all over you again and definitely showing you how much he’s been holding himself back. you’re the pure focus of the night, making you chase for more when he pulls away and kissing down your body. he worships it, tongue circling a nipple while his hand plays with the other, eyes staring holes into yours from how intense the blue was.
“s-satoru . .”
“yes, sweets, what is it?”
“feels good—” you whine, back arching into his hold once he leaves your tits and continues down your body. each kiss is like hellfire against your cold skin, and he pops a button and listens out again, both of you sighing in relief and giggling to each other when you don’t hear a knock on the door.
“does it? good.” it’s tantalisingly slow, the pace at which gojo peels your clothes off, but when your pants are finally off, he marvels at your beauty as he brings your legs apart. you’re shy, hiding yourself behind your arms and resisting his hands.
“aht, no, c’mon, show yourself, baby.” he only moans when he sees the dark patch at the centre of your underwear, pressing a finger into your clit and you’re ashamed at how intensely you react to it. gojo continues his torture, thumbing your bud just to watch your face contort into pleasure, “so, so pretty.”
you preen at the praise, even more so when he pulls your panties to the side and sucks slowly on your clit. it’s slow, again, and you’re clutching the sheets so tight when he lays his tongue flat against your pussy. satoru takes his time, savouring each bit of your cunt to make up for lost time, filling the room with the lewdest noises of your sopping cunt on his tongue.
“taste so fuckin’ sweet, pussy’s s’good,” he practically moans into your core, arms wrapping around your thighs to bring you closer while you try to keep your noises down to a minimum. little pants and mewls leave your lips, eyes never leaving the head of hair.
but he’s unpredictable, as gojo always is, so when he’s hovering over you just to give you a little innocent kiss, you think nothing of it, until he’s back in front of your pussy and starts eating you out like a starved man. you let out a loud moan, dragging it out until you’re gulping down your next sounds. it doesn’t help much, though, cause gojo’s slurping at your pussy like it’s the end of the world.
“s-satoru—! too much—” you moan but your hips grind into his mouth, your hands now finding purchase in his hair, “t-too loud.”
“mmf— don’t care,” he mumbles into your cunt, making sure he gets every drop of your arousal on his tongue while he abuses your clit, alternating between flicking his tongue and sucking hard and you think it’s the best head you’ve ever gotten.
“not when your cunt’s so perfect,” you only press his head deeper into you like it would stop his muffled sentences, but that only spurs him to suck harder before he just shifts down a little to plunge his tongue into your hole. you choke out a moan as his nose nudges your clit, clenching around his muscle.
“relax— mmhh, you gotta relax, baby,” he’s massaging your thighs but if anything it does the exact opposite, closing your thighs around his head in sensitivity.
“it’s— h-hard to,” you moan out, already feeling the coil in your tummy that’s approaching oh, so quickly when gojo eats you out like this. he shifts his attention back to your puffy clit, eyes flicking up to make contact with yours and you shrivel under his intense stare, “w-when you’re making me feel s’good—!”
you feel him smile into your cunt but he says nothing, taking note of the drop of your jaw, the scrunch of your eyes, the contractions of your stomach. your legs like to straighten out and shake when you’re close, he memorises. when you start to tighten your grip on his hair, he ingrains it in his mind.
“cumming— i’m c-close,” but it’s like satoru doesn’t even need it when his eyes digest the way he sends you over the edge with just his tongue.
“g— god! satoru!” your mouth falls into a silent scream after, head dipping so much into the pillow while you grind your cunt into his face, gushing all over his face with a renewed spirit and regret for all those times that men have rubbed your left lip thinking it was your clit.
“let it go, yeess . . that’s it,” satoru doesn’t hesitate to get sloppy, sucking up all your cum, gasping for air once he’s done with his meal, “pretty girl just came all over my face.”
you struggle to your elbows despite the words he utters, propped up just to catch a glimpse of him and the soaked bottom of his face that stretches into a smile.
“was that better than all the uni boys who’ve never felt the touch of a woman?” you laugh at that, making quick work of grabbing his chin and bringing him back to your lips.
“much, much better.” and you take the opportunity to flip the tables, trembling, shaking legs trying their best to wrap around his torso to straddle him —  but once you’re over, you’re not quite sure what to do apart from letting your hands roam all over the expanse of his shoulders and chest.
“and can she do it again all over my cock?” the obscene words sound almost taboo falling from his mouth that your mouth drops open in initial shock, but it subsides into anticipation soon enough.
wordlessly, you take matters into your own hands, fingers making quick work of his trousers while he removes his top impatiently. the scowl on your face is prominent when you struggle to work his belt out and he chuckles with helping hands, the burn on your face deepening.
“there,” gojo giggles and he pulls you in with a peck-filled apology, “don’t worry, we have all the time in the world.”
you hum, “not when your son could knock any time soon.”
that prompts a giggle that fades off into a loud moan once your warm hand wraps around him, something that he’d never tell you how many times he’s fantasised about. slowly, you stroke his cock, excruciatingly slow just like how he’s done to your cunt earlier.
you’re hovering over him, now, dragging his tip along your pussy and whining softly at the pre-cum that mixes together with your juices. you need him into you as soon as possible, and apart from your soon burning thighs, you’ve been wanting this for as long as you’ve stepped foot into his house from the very first day.
inch by inch, you sink down onto gojo’s weeping cock, getting the luxury of feeling his sensitive twitches with the plunge into your cunt. you’re glad at least he had offered to stretch you out just a tad bit earlier, the intrusion of his fingers already having you panting for his dick; and now, when you have the real thing, it drives your mind insane.
“’t-toru— haah . .” your body curls up from the painful stretch, lips muttering the nickname unknowingly as you grasp onto his shoulders for support, and while he helps you on, he never stops saying the most filthy things, grinning each time you clench around him.
“never thought i’d be here, fuckin’ the babysitter, but here we are,” your oh my god is whispered only for the other to hear, body burning up from the words before he grinds his pelvis into yours and you slump forward in pleasure. your words are a bunch of nothingness, a string of incoherence, “and her pussy’s just so fucking— tight!”
giving you one or two breaths of rest, satoru coos in your face, cradling it and littering kisses all over it before he’s moving his hips and you’re breaking the kiss to whine out, moving your hips to meet his as well. you move sooner or later, bouncing on his cock once you’re more used to him in you and the position only hits all your spots just right.
“f-fuck— you’re so big—!” you roll your hips into him, eyes stuck on how there’s just a small bump in your tummy each time you bottom out. your boss from across you is equally ruined, eyes struggling to keep open with wet hair stuck to his forehead. “feel so so g-good . .”
“yeah?” he breathlessly mumbles, hand squeezing and kneading your ass and trying to help you, but the warmth of your cunt around his length just feels too good. “bounce on that dick, baby.”
and you do, planting your feet into the bed and fingers creating bruises along his shoulders as you impale yourself on his fat cock, switching to relaxing in his embrace and letting your hips do the work when your legs start hurting. there, you indulge in gojo’s lips as you hump him, the delicious friction of your clit against his pubes sending you reeling.
“you’re going to be soaking my sheets from how much you’re leaking,” gojo jests, letting your moans take over his mind while his lips trace down your neck, eyes just peeking over to see your ass ripple from the force. “not that i mind. how’s she doin’?”
“she’s getting,” a choked whine interrupts you, “a little tired.”
and that draws a laugh out of gojo who does nothing but tease you, something he likes to do even in makeout sessions, and he doesn’t hesitate to reach over to his bedsie table to grab his phone, leaning back to bask in your glory. here, your body just looks heavenly as you try your best to move on his lap.
“hang on a little more for me, princess,” with one hand, his larger hand leave chills all over your body and the other points his phone at you, not before making sure you were okay with it, “and smile for the camera.”
you try your best even when his hand make his way to your mouth, pulling it open with his fingers to slot it in. you’re sure you look like a whore right now, but the camera pointed your way only turn you on more, like it’s beckoning you to put on a show. and you loved the attention, so you close your lips around his fingers and start sucking, grinding even harsher on his cock that has gojo stuttering.
“y—yeah, attagirl . .” he grins at the video he takes, “show the camera how much of a cockslut you are.”
you whine, bringing the hand to your clit while you shove two hands onto his torso to really work your thighs out, feeling that familiar curl in your stomach once he starts rubbing his saliva-filed fingers along you bundle of nerves. 
“r-right there, satoru—!” you swear under your breath, giving hooded eyes to the camera while you chase your high drunkenly, all sort of coherent thought banished from your head. “love your cock, love it, love it—!”
satoru swears he wants to cum from just watching you use him, and even holding himself back is proving difficult when you clamp and tighten around him until his fingers press particularly deep into your clit and you’re cumming with a loud cry of his name, body convulsing all over the video.
“tha’s a good girl . . cream my cock, yeeaaahh . .” gojo watches, hypnotised, as you lose control over your body, but the pleasure-filled whimper that you merge his name with is just too good, that he spills unexpectedly in you. the video is far from stable, so he only slaps the phone down to relish in his orgasm. gojo pushes his hips up and you gasp at the feeling, back arching when you feel his cum seep into you.
you’ve never even given much thought to pregnancy, but the feeling of his cum dribbling into you fogs your mind that you only want more after a mental note to buy the morning after pill tomorrow.
“n-need more,” you beg, fondling at his cheeks and undercut, “w-want more cum in me, satoru . .”
and it’s like a flip switches in him, because he’s flipping you over right after — he has to see his cum leave your pussy first though, taking the still ongoing video and putting it right up to your pussy, using his tip to smear your mixed juices all around.
“who knew i’d hired such a dirty girl?” he addresses the camera more than you, but he catches your flustered glance with a wink and after poorly setting up the camera on his bedside table (he just was too intoxicated on your cunt), he’s pushing back into you with a loud groan, not even caring for the consequences any more. his cum is just so much, too, spilling out the sides.
“only f’r you,” you mumble, grabbing at his forearms needily. your eyes flutter close as he bottoms out, your legs pushed right up to your chest as he folds you whichever way he wants to. at this point, if he wanted to own you, you wouldn’t object one bit, not when gojo satoru’s cock stretches your pretty pussy so nicely. “a cumslut only for you.”
“yeah?” he starts moving his hips and your arch into his hold, “i wonder how i got so — fuck — lucky.” everything is sloppy and wet and disgusting and you love every moment of it, even after he’s cummed in you the second, third, fourth time, you’re happy to be pumped full of his cum, giving him a tired, glistening grin that he returns.
“think i should be transferring over my life savings for a cunt this sweet,” you giggle at the compliment, but don’t protest when he’s pulling up the app to gift you with a hefty amount; both your salary and bonus, all from making gojo satoru fall helplessly just from your touch — something to brag about indeed.
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sttoru · 7 months
Text
𝐈𝐓’𝐒 𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐈𝐍 .
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⟣ sypnosis. a nightmare of your lover’s disappearance wakes you from your sleep.
⟣ tags. gojo satoru x female reader. angst, comfort, fluff. takes place after gojo’s unsealed but before dec 24th, bits of spoilers jjk leaks 236 at the end. mentions of death, blood.
⟣ note. based on it’s happening again by agnes obel. coping rn dhmu . . . not proofread bcs i cant read through my tears anyways hope u enjoy im gonna cry myself to sleep now
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everyone has to die at one point — not even the strongest of all could avoid that tragical fate. not even the strongest sorcerer you call your lover.
no, not even him. the universe couldn’t spare him. you thought that maybe, it would. maybe fate wouldn’t apply to him. oh, how wrong you were.
blood splatter—a stream of red liquid. right at your feet. right in front of your eyes. a man in half. and not just any regular man;
“satoru !”
your dark surroundings become blurry with tears, your body jolts out of its current dreaming state. you could feel your heart in your chest—in your throat. your brain shut itself off for a few seconds as your eyes try to make out shapes and figures in the room you’re in. your bedroom.
you only then realises that it was all just a gruesome nightmare. a hyperrealistic one at that; one that will haunt you for years.
“hmmh.. ‘m right here, baby.” a groggy voice next to you replies to your yell in agony. the yell that was the shape of your lover’s name leaving your lips—
you instantly turn your head to the right and there he was; the man whom just met death in your dreams. gojo satoru, all alive and well. in your bed, in your presence, in your life.
satoru’s hand aimlessly pats the space next to him in search of your body whilst he rubbed his eyes with the other, trying to adjust his sight to the dark so he could find you. you seemed to be in complete distress. which he does not like.
“it’s okay, shh, shh,” your lover hums, hand finally finding your arm. he doesn’t hesitate to pull you on top of him—your head laying on his chest.
his body was warm. his heartbeat was there. loud and clear in your right ear.
“satoru. . .” a river of tears flows down your cheeks like a dam that has been broken into. your body trembles, lungs feeling like they couldn’t get any air in them from how hard you were sobbing. the pain of losing your loved one; it all came flowing back to you.
satoru frowns, “hey, hey. look at me — sweetheart, c’mon.”
he instantly sits up and pulls you along with him. his hands find your cheeks, tilting your head up. this time it was his turn to feel his heart break in pieces. you looked absolutely distraught. as if you just went through a traumatic experience of some kind. he hated it.
“shit,” satoru mutters under his breath before pulling you into his embrace again, arms circling your waist with his head buried in the crook of your neck, “it’s okay, i’m here now. you’re safe.”
it wasn’t the first time you had nightmares when he was with you. you had them regularly after satoru had gotten sealed in the prison realm for nineteen days—nineteen days of dread for you. of an empty bed, an empty house and an empty life.
when satoru had finally been released from the prison realm it was like a dream come true. a happy dream, that is. not those repetitive, bad ones you have every now and then. you still get those nightmares of your lover being either taken away from you by force or by death itself. your brain couldn’t give you a break — even after his return.
“take a deep breath in,” satoru instructs and sets an example by doing the breathing exercise with you, “hold it for three seconds . . . breathe out for six. mhmm, good—jus’ like that.”
you repeat it a couple more times, sobbing and shaking throughout the entirety of the exercise, but eventually manage to calm down a little. satoru sighs in relief at this;
“you okay, baby?”
you nod weakly and sniff, wanting nothing more than to be held by the man you thought had vanished from your life forever. you had that scare once, when he was sealed, and you never want to go back to those dark times. ever.
“it’s— i, just—“ you hiccup once, unable to complete entire sentences, “i thought you w-were gone. i thought you had died.”
it was silent after that (except for the sound your silent sobs and sniffles). satoru had guessed by now that you saw him die in your dream — that much was pretty obvious. but, the thought that you were this distressed because of it makes him. . . happy in a way.
happy that someone would mourn over him at least.
“well,” satoru pensively replies, hands rubbing your back up and down soothingly, “everyone has to meet their end one day, you know?”
that sentence was one that was meant to lighten up the grim mood somehow. one of his many lighthearted remarks that were supposed distract you from your tears. it would work during other moments like these — were you’d be too baffled by the things satoru says to care about what you were crying for — yet today it only worsens your misery.
“shut up.” you weakly punch his chest to which the white haired male chuckles softly, his slender fingers instantly interlocking with yours. satoru’s thumb brushes against your wrist before pulling it up to his lips, placing ticklish kisses among your skin.
another silence hangs in the air.
“seriously though. . . if i were to somehow die, i’d want you to live and move on, yeah?” your lover whispers in such a quiet tone that it was almost inaudible. satoru had looked death right in the eye before — he didn’t care back then if it were actually his end.
he does now. he has the world to lose — his world — his everything. you.
satoru wants to live a happy life with you. he doesn’t want to die now that he has you. the love of his life which he wants to grow old with. maybe have kids with. start an own family away from the busy streets, away from the swarming curses in the city and away from all that sorcerer stuff. it was a nice dream.
“shut it!” you huff and satoru takes another weak punch to the chest. his gaze lands upon your tear struck face and he instantly drops the serious ‘act’.
the sorcerer laughs, his usual boyish laugh that makes you feel better, and he flips you both over so that he has you pinned underneath him. satoru grins before kissing your tummy all over, making you giggle from the ticklish feeling;
“i’m playin’, baby! i’m not going anywhereeee!” he promises through wet pecks against your skin, the smile on his evident even if you couldn’t see it — you could hear it in his voice.
satoru leaves your tummy and moves on to your neck and face. he was smothering you in affection in hopes you’d cheer up some way. he just wants you to forget about anything bad happening to him. you didn’t deserve to think about all that stuff — you deserve to be happy and full of joy.
even without him one day.
“i’d never leave my princess all alone.” satoru shakes his head and pouts dramatically, “who else is gonna spoil you? or kiss and cuddle you to bed, huh?”
you finally show an ounce of joy. a tiny smile. that was all satoru had needed to see. he wasn’t going to stop there, however. his goal was to turn that small smile into a full blown fit of laughter.
“i’m one of a kind, baby. you’re never gonna meet a man like me.” he continues with a proud grin, putting all of his body weight on top of you which causes you to groan and grumble a lighthearted complain.
satoru knows you like it whenever he clings to you and thus he uses that piece of knowledge to help you feel better. his head was buried into your shoulder, limbs enveloping your body like a koala.
“whatever.” you roll your eyes and snuggle up to your lover, closing your eyes as the tiredness hits your body after all that crying.
“whatever !” satoru mocks you in a high-pitched tone, followed by a pair of giggles from the two of you. a third and final punch to the chest finally shuts him up for the rest of the night.
the sorcerer made sure you had fallen asleep first before he whispered the next words in your ear, hoping they’d calm your mind and body so that no nightmares would ever bother you again;
“don’t you worry, sweets. i’m not leaving you. ever.”
. . .
those were the same exact words satoru wished he could utter to you one last time before the current date — 24th of december.
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jnnul · 3 months
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riding enhypen hc's <3
a/n: entirely self-indulgent filth is at your service! i spiraled & sunoo's is genuinely dangerous. word count: 1.4k genre: nsfw...straight smut.
yang jungwon
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freaks out
when you asked him if you could ride him, he freaked out
first, he had to figure out the logistics, then why you wanted to do it in the first place, then - !
you tell him to just stop thinking and let you make him feel good
so when he hesitantly agrees, he's still worried you're somehow going to manage to hurt yourself
until you finally, finally ease yourself down, pausing every so often to get used to his length
and then you bottom out
and jungwon sees heaven
he's too busy trying not to cum like a virgin the second you bottom out to remember why he was so worried in the first place
looking at his expression, you move to lift yourself off of him when his hands find your hips and keep you seated
"don't move. feels good."
you almost laugh at the neanderthal language your boyfriend is using but suddenly, he's guiding your hips forward and you're too shocked to laugh
goddamn. you knew it would feel good for him but not this good
jungwon never tries to control your movements when you have sex but clearly, this was a new experience for him
you like it. a lot.
as you do it more often and jungwon gets more used to it, he likes being a little more dominant by telling you to stop or keep going
mostly because knowing that you like it makes him horny as fuck
lee heeseung
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b e g s you to do it
except he manages to do it in a way where you’re convinced that it was your idea in the first place
tries his best to keep his hands to himself
fails every time
kinda like jungwon, his hands always just naturally gravitate towards your hips
loves to control your pace and drag your hips slowly against his
bc he knows how much you hate it
he makes sure to bring you to the edge and rip your pleasure away at the last second
he's a fucking asshole (and you tell him as much) but he just laughs and kisses your tears away
definitely the type to tell you to sit slowly only to knock the wind out of you by thrusting suddenly
loves it when you grab his shoulders, trying to steady yourself
he gets such an ego boost when your thighs are shaking, and your grip on his body is too tight
he likes knowing that he's the single man on earth who could make you feel this good
will 100% kiss your collarbone when you're leaning over him
riding him is fun, teasing but also really romantic when he wants to be
absolutely will not flip you over, even when you get tired
"you're tired? that's alright, baby. we've got all night and nowhere to be."
park jongseong
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such a cutie patootie bc he's always thinking abt if you're going through too much trouble
honestly, you would only be able to ride him when he's really tired
or when he's feeling a little down or when you just wanna spoil him
bc he l o v e s it when you ride him but he's always so worried abt you :(
sits against the headboard so that you can have more stability
presses so many kisses against your chest and neck
loves it when you're slow and grinding against him, just enjoying how full he makes you feel
loves it even more when you're riding him like it's the only thing you can think of doing in that moment
absolutely runs his hands up and down your thighs as you wrap your arms around his neck to kiss him
always is kissing you btw
no matter how fucked out you are (or he is, tbh) he's always kissing you bc you're going out of your way to make him feel good
just so incredibly love w you
will absolutely be asking if you want him to flip you over and make you feel good
doesn't believe you when you say that riding him does make you feel good
accidentally leaves bruises on your hips from how hard his grip is on you
kisses every single one of the bruises he leaves because he feels so sorry :(
definitely a groaner and his head falls back when you bottom out
he's such a romantic omg
jake sim
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so excited cannot control himself
will beg you to ride him and is not ashamed of it
"yeah and you would too if your s/o was as hot as mine."
is kinda silly abt it because for him, pleasure is the ultimate goal
so even though you're riding him, he will 'accidentally' thrust upwards just to see you gasp
absolutely the type to do goofy shit in the middle to see you lose your breath
gets such an ego boost when you're sweating, trying not to cum before him when he's making it so hard for you
is a rlly sensual person so if the vibe is kinda serious, he will absolutely be pushing your hair back, pressing kisses against your shoulders
prefers you to ride him when the two of you are sitting
like sitting in an armchair or some shit
he feels like he's closer to you and he rlly likes the feeling of you clinging to him (kinda like heeseung)
is super versatile? like he gets turned on by pretty much everything and is into everything
so he can go from having a rlly serious vibe and kissing you senseless while you're seated full of him
to bouncing you on his dick faster than you can even register the switch
gets such a kick of adrenaline when you're fucked thoughtless when you're riding him
especially when you're babbling nonsense about how you don't want to stop and that you're in love w his dick
ABSOLUTELY goes feral for the praise
park sunghoon
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one serving of a cocky ass mf when you first suggest it ("LMAOO you like like me")
kinda like jay in that he feels bad at first bc he rlly only lets you do it when he's feeling rlly tired
or when he just wants to be taken care of
since most of the time, he likes it for you to just sit back and relax
when he finally gives in though, he enjoys it to the fullest
absolutely accidentally edges you while he edges himself
everything feels so intense that he just needs you to stop every so often for you to catch your breath
and for him to get his head straight
but his thoughts grow cloudier and cloudier the longer you ride him
eventually, he gives up the reigns to you and that's when the fun really begins
he's such a sweetie when he's so far gone
tries his best to be quiet but just starts babbling when you ride him like it's the only thing you can think of doing
his hands are all over your body, trying to find something to anchor himself to
mark. him. up.
loves feeling special to you and feeling like you'd never give anyone else the chance to make you feel good like this
i wouldn't say that he's subby necessarily but he kinda gives into a more gentle and pliable side of him that you normally don't see
and when he cums, good god praise him so much pls :( he deserves it
kim sunoo
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actually the best person to ever ride (i say this from personal experience)
slightly more dominant than usual because he loves seeing you melt when he takes control
snaps his hips up when you least expect it to see you whimper
gets such an ego boost when you lose your strength and fall into his arms
will hold you close to his chest as he fucks into you
kisses you when you're leaning into him
very slow and steady and purposeful with his movements, making you want more when he does the slightest movements
laughs when you nearly pass out after you cum (not in a mean way) (in a slightly mean way)
thinks you're absolutely adorable and likes watching you fumble for a couple moments before he starts guiding you
honestly probably doesn't let you do it very often bc he has to be in a very specific mindset for it
probably only happens when you're feeling RLLY needy
it's also probably just foreplay to him before he flips you over and fucks you until your mind goes absolutely blank
might even get freaky with it
do not get surprised if he ties your hands behind your back with a tie or smth
and tells you to 'get moving' in teasing way
overall, unlocks a side of him that you rarely get but absolutely love every time that you see it
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thefatedthoughtofyou · 2 months
Text
He's been at Steve's house a week before he manages to gather up the courage to ask.
He shuffles into the living room, Steve's old slippers on his feet, Steve's old pajamas hanging off him. He'd lost weight in the hospital. And hadn't gained much back yet, still in too much pain to really have an appetite. But this, it needed doing. He needed it done.
"Steve?" He asks, throat clicking, voice scratchy from underuse. Steve looks away from the tv immediately, hits the mute button, eyes wide and on Eddie.
"Hey. You okay?" He asks, turning his whole body on the couch, towards Eddie, giving him his full attention.
Eddie just nods. Slowly. His eyes going unfocused, staring at the floor.
"Eddie?" And Steve's in front of him now, he hadn't even heard him get up.
"Hmm?" He hums in his throat, eyes still feeling foggy.
"Did you need something?" Steve asks, Eddie's eyes focus, the concern in Steve's voice bring him back into his body. He looks at Steve, nods, says,
"I need you to cut my hair." His lip trembles, he digs his teeth in.
"You... what?" Steve's confused. Rightfully so. Eddie swallows around the fire in his throat, tries to explain it to Steve. This thing he can barley figure out himself. Has a half formed idea at best. He wipes at his nose with the back of his hand, Steve steps a little closer.
"It's just- it keeps- I keep laying on it. And it... pulls. And I'm sleeping and it pulls and I wake up and I can't breathe and it's-" he inhales, sharp and shakey and then Steve is there, his hands on Eddie's shoulders.
"Okay. It's okay. I'll do it. Whatever you want Ed's." He pulls Eddie upstairs, into his bathroom. Stands with him in front of the mirror, scissors in hand.
"Where do you want it?" Steve asks, his eyes meeting Eddie's in the mirror. Eddie takes a deep breath, brings his hand up, winces at the pull on his ribs but keeps going.
"Above my shoulders. But like... I wanna still be able to tuck it behind my ears?" He's not sure why it comes out as a question, but Steve just nods, Eddie sees his lips twitch into the start of a smile before dropping again. He reach up, drags his fingers genlty through Eddie hair.
His stomach sinks, his hair is gross. He hasn't washed it in days. Too tired. Too much pain. Too much effort.
"Sorry my hair's gross." He mumbles, lips barley moving.
"It's not. It's fine." Steve assures him, his voice soft, sections out a small lock of hair, he looks at Eddie in the mirror again.
"You're sure about this?" He asks, he looks sad. Eddie hates it. But also doesn't. Because it means Steve sees him, understands him, and how important his hair is to him.
But it doesn't matter right now. That his hair is a peice of him, a peice of the Eddie he'd built to keep himself safe. A peice of his armor.
"I'm sure. Please." He isn't begging, exactly, but his hands fist in his pajama pants, and it feels like it anyway.
"I'm gonna go just above your shoulder at first okay? And then if you want more off we can do that." Steve waits for Eddie to agree and then starts cutting.
Eddie closes his eyes when the scissors sink through his hair. Keeps them closed as Steve works. He stops a few cuts in and tells Eddie to wait there. Eddie sits on the toilet seat as he waits for Steve to come back.
He brings a radio with him, clicks in one of the tapes Eddie made him, and gets back to work. Eddie's eyes stay closed. He finds himself smiling as he listens to Steve hum behind him. Scrunches his nose when Steve full on sings a few times.
Not because he's bad. He's got a really nice voice actually. Eddie loves listening to him sing. But if he didn't scrunch his face he might to do something else instead, something stupid, with Steve so close.
It only takes a couple songs before Steve's hands are on his shoulders, gentle, reassuring, an anchor.
"Okay. It's done. Or at least. Might be. I can take more off if you need me too." His voice is soft in Eddie's ear, Eddie can feel the heat of his chest on his back he's so close.
He opens his eyes and feels his heart flutter in his chest. His head swimming a little. His hair hadn't been this short since junior year. He can see Steve watching him in the mirror.
"Good?" He asks, dragging his lip into his mouth and letting it go again.
"I think so." Eddie says, feeling a bit dazzed, a bit dizzy. And then Steve fucking reaches up with both hands, tucks Eddie's hair behind his ears genlty, his fingers moving down his neck to rest back on his shoulders.
"I could take another inch. It'd still fit behind your ears." Steve's eyes are moving over his head, like he's doing some complex math equation. Eddie wants to cry. His chest tight.
"Okay. Take it." He says, Steve's eyes move to his in their reflections again.
"Yeah?" Steve asks, reaching up and smoothing his hand over Eddie's hair. Eddie nods.
"Yeah. One more inch." He breathes the words out, like he just needs them gone, out of his mouth. Steve smiles at him, untucks his hair from his ears and starts cutting again.
Eddie watches him this time. Watches the way his tongue sticks out as he concentrates, measuring Eddie's hair between his fingers before he cuts. His tongue peaking out between his lips, brow furrowed in concentration.
Eddie watches him and tries to convince himself he actually wanted it shorter. And maybe he did. But he knows too, that he didn't want Steve to stop touching him. Steve's eyes meet his in the mirror and he smiles again. Eddie looks away. His cheeks burning.
"Okay. You're done Munson." His voice is teasing, it makes Eddie's stomach flutter.
"Thanks. Harrington." He teases back. Too soft. He knows. But he can't help it. His voice is stuck in his throat. Steve snorts as Eddie turns, takes a step toward the door.
"Actually. Can I-" Steve stops, his hand curling around Eddie's bicep, stopping him there. Eddie looks at him. Waiting.
"Can I wash your hair for you?" Steve asks, his voice quiet, Eddie barely hears it over the radio.
"My...?" Is Eddie's articulate reply.
"Please? It'll make you feel better. I- I think." Steve stammers a bit, always so endearing when he does that. Eddie loves when he's flustered.
"I uh... yeah okay. If you want." Eddie shrugs, tries to act normal. Like any of this is normal. And Steve fucking beams at him, that beautiful smile on full display.
"Okay cool. Just uh... here you can sit here while I get this cleaned up and get a towel and I'll be right back." He's talking fast, his hands flailing and jumping around as he talks. Eddie just nods, smiling at him as he watches him toss Eddie's chopped hair into the trash. Watches him take a lock of it and tie it in a knot, tells Eddie he'll put it somewhere safe. So they'll know when it's fully grown out again.
Steve wipes up the counter and disappears, comes back with two towels a few seconds later. Instructs Eddie to sit on the floor. He sets a towel down for him to sit on and lays the other over the side of the tub.
Eddie lets Steve guide him. His hands gentle as he lowers Eddie's head back over the tub, asks if he's comfortable, Eddie hums an affirmation. Steve makes sure the water is warm, not too hot, because Eddie doesn't like hot water. He gets it perfect. And then starts pouring water onto Eddie's hair.
Eddie's not sure where he got the cup. Or if it was already there for some reason. He means to ask but Steve's fingers sink into his hair and his brain short circuits. The shampoo smells amazing. Minty. It tingles against his scalp in the best way as Steve's fingers move in slow circles.
Eddie's eyes fall closed. He's sure he makes some obscene noise but Steve is kind enough not to comment. His fingers working magic in Eddie's hair. He rinses with warm water, the contrast from the cool minty feeling making Eddie shiver.
He hears Steve laugh a quiet laugh as he does and smiles himself. He hears another bottle pop open and closed and then Steve's fingers are back. Working the conditioner into his hair slowly, massaging it into his scalp as well. His hands moving slowly, with a purpose, for what feels like hours. He pulls back eventually, fingers dragging slowly through Eddie's hair as he goes.
"I'm gonna let that sit for about two minutes and then we'll rinse okay? You doin okay? Not in pain are you?" Steve all but whispers in Eddie's ear. The radio is still playing in the background. But Eddie couldn't tell you a single fucking song that had played since Steve started touching him.
"I'm good. Kinda tired. But that might just be your magic fingers." He peaks one eye open, watches as Steve laughs, shakes his head. He closes his eye again and laughs too. Only it wasn't a joke. Not really. Steve's fingers were magic. Just like the rest of him.
Steve hums along to Queen's Radio Ga Ga as they wait, Eddie tapping out the beat on his thigh as Steve hums and sways. The song ends and Steve scoots closer.
"Ready?" He asks, turning the water back on.
"As I'll ever be." Eddie deadpans, scooting back a bit from where he'd slid down.
"You're not gonna try and put products in my hair and blow dry it are you?" Eddie asks as Steve starts pouring water over him, fingers moving quicker now, moving his hair around to get it clean, he snorts again.
"No. Just wanted to get you clean." He says, pouring one last cup of water over his hair and turning the tap off. He grabs at each side of the towel under Eddie's neck and lifts, pulling Eddie up and wrapping his hair in one smooth motion. Eddie's eyes land on him and he can't help it.
"So my hair was gross. I knew it." He sighs, watches Steve's nose crinkle.
"It really wasn't that bad. But you thought it was. So i figured this would help." Steve shrugged, like it was nothing. Eddie bit his lip as Steve patted and scrunched his hair in the towel, being careful not to pull.
He claps his hands down on his thighs and helps Eddie get back on his feet. Pulls him genlty to stand in front of the mirror again and smiles soflty when Eddie takes the towel off his head and drags his own fingers through his hair.
It's short, leveled at his chin, a little above when he tucks it behind his ears. And he feels... better. Lighter. He shoves his hands up into the back of it, taking a deep breathe when his fingers drag over his neck, it makes him shiver.
"Fuck. I'm gonna be cold now." He mutters, chuckling in his throat, he hadn't thought about that.
"I'll keep you warm." Steve's voice is soft, when he speaks. The tape in the deck clicks and goes quiet as they stare at each other in the mirror.
"I just wanted you to feel better. But I'll gladly keep you warm too. Whatever you need Eddie. I- I mean I'm here. For you. Not goin anywhere." He shrugs after he mumbles through his little confession, his eyes on the floor when he turns to Eddie.
"I feel better." Eddie whispers, bites his lip and decides to be brave.
He steps forward, into Steve's space, Steve lifts his head, hazel eyes darting around Eddie's face. Eddie hears his breath stutter when he leans closer, presses his lips to Steve's cheek, firm.
Wanting no doubt in Steve's mind that Eddie means this. Means to kiss him. Means to pull him into a tight hug after. Means to hum happily into Steve's neck when Steve pulls him close, arms wrapping around Eddie's skinny frame and holding him tight.
"I'm not going anywhere either." Eddie breathes into his shoulder, presses another kiss there, into his shirt, like a promise. Steve squeezes him tighter, Eddie thinks he might be crying. His chest fluttering against Eddie's as he breathes shakily.
"Can I sleep in your bed tonight?" Eddie asks, lets Steve pull away a bit so he can see him. Eddie was right, there are tears in his eyes, but he's smiling as he looks at Eddie.
"Yeah. Course you can. You can sleep there every night if you want. Forever." Steve says, nuzzles into Eddie touch as he wipes tears away from his flushed cheeks.
"Forever huh?" Eddie teases, kissing acoss Steve's cheeks genlty as he laughs, it's wet, and wobbly, and Eddie is so fucking in love with him already.
"Yeah. Forever. Or however long you want me I guess." He shrugs again, dismissive, as if he really thinks Eddie would ever give him up.
"Forever sounds good to me. Not fucking letting you go now I've got you." Eddie whispers, his hands holding Steve's face, Steve's hands on his wrists, holding him too.
"You're gonna keep me forever?" Steve asks, his lip trembling as he looks at Eddie with hope in his teary eyes.
"Forever and ever, if I can." Eddie nods, and it seems to break Steve. He sighs, grabs at Eddie's pajama shirt and tugs him forward. Their lips crash together, a little rough at first, their teeth clicking until Steve seems to calm and slow down. His lips move genlty against Eddie's, soft and slow, and when he pulls back he's smiling again, his crooked little half smile that Eddie loves so much.
Steve scrunches his hair a few more times and then drags Eddie upstairs, gets them both comfy in his bed. And he holds Eddie as they fall alseep, pressing kisses into his hair and against his temple before sleep takes him.
Eddie wakes up warm. Drapped across Steve's chest as the sun hits them. He feels lips press into his hair, smiles when Steve makes exaggerated kissy noises. But he keeps his eyes closed, nuzzles deeper into Steve as he feels his fingers press into his hair.
Eddie hums as they drag through a few times, nimbly untangling rats or snags as they move. He sinks deeper into Steve, his heart fluttering as Steve's hand moves through his hair genlty, scratching at his scalp as he goes, before settling against the back of his neck, his thumb moving in slow cirles against the newly exposed skin.
Eddie whimpers into Steve's chest and snuggles closer, Steve keeping him warm, just like he promised. Eddie couldn't wait to spend forever with him.
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cjayius · 1 month
Text
INTO IT — LEE HEESEUNG
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SYNOPSIS. you have always hated heeseung. unfortunately, he's a world famous racer, and you're his team manager. but when he crashes during a race, you're met with feelings for him that you don't quite recognize.
pairing. racer!heeseung x f!reader wc. 0.52k tw. mentions of hee crashing , hugging genre. fluff , e2l (?) ( CATALOGUE )
as you both step out into the bustling racing area, you can feel the tension in the air. the pitwall is abuzz with activity as you and heeseung stand among the important figures of the racing team.
arguments aren't uncommon between the two of you, and today is no exception.
heeseung's frustration is palpable, his jaw set firmly as he glares at you, hands clenched into fists at his sides. " you can't be serious about this, " you retort, your voice edged with exasperation, arms defiantly crossed over your chest.
" you're taking unnecessary risks out there, heeseung. " his response is sharp, a scoff escaping his lips as he steps closer, his face mere inches from yours.
" i know what i'm doing, okay ? stop treating me like i'm some rookie driver who needs babysitting. "
your eyes narrow at him, anger flashing through them. " you're being reckless, heeseung. i won't stand by and watch you put yourself in danger. you're not doing it. "
with a dismissive wave of his hand, heeseung turns away, stomping toward his car, jaw clenched. you watch him go, a knot of anger only tightening in your chest as he climbs into the vehicle, movements tense and aggressive.
as heeseung's car speeds around the track, you can't help but feel a sense of anxiety. despite your frustration with him, you can't shake the worry that gnaws at you as you watch him twist around the course.
suddenly, a collective gasp ripples through the crowd as his car swerves abruptly, crashing into the barriers with a sickening thud.
your heart leaps into your throat as panic courses through you, hands gripping the edge of the pitwall with a force so strong you could have broken it. frantically, you reach for the radio, voice trembling as you call out, " heeseung, are you okay ? answer me, please ! "
no response.
" heeseung, please ! " but there's no response, and dread settles heavily in the pit of your stomach and you watch, helpless, as the race officials rush to the scene. time seems to stand still as you wait for any sign of movement from his car.
your mind was already racing with the worst-case scenarios.
finally, relief floods through you as you see him emerge from the wreckage, seemingly unscathed. but any relief is quickly replaced by anger as you realize he's smirking, reveling in the worry he's caused you.
storming towards him, your frustration boils over as you slap his chest. " what the hell were you thinking ? do you have any idea how worried i was ? you could've gotten seriously hurt ! "
his smirk falters, but before he can respond, your anger melts away, and without thinking, you wrap your arms tightly around him, pulling him into a hug.
for a moment, there's a stunned silence between you, the weight of the moment hanging in the air. heeseung's surprise quickly gives way to a soft chuckle as he returns the embrace, his arms enveloping you.
" i'm okay, stop worrying so much. " he hums into the crook of your neck as he wraps his arms tighter around your figure.
for a moment, the world falls away, but then reality comes crashing back, and you hastily pull away, cheeks burning with embarrassment as you remember that you're supposed to hate each other.
clearing your throat awkwardly, you take a step back, avoiding heeseung's gaze as you try to compose yourself. " well, um, i'm glad you're okay, " you mutter, voice betraying you as you let out a shaky breath.
he watches with amusement, as you rush away from him, cheeks flushed. he was going to get you to say it.
taglist : @so-lychee @mellowdyverse @bambisnc
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wonryllis · 27 days
Text
✶ ENHYPEN REVEALING THEIR IDOL!S/O
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. . ──𝖺𝗅𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗇𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗅𝗒, 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝖿𝖺𝗇𝗌 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗍𝗈𝗀𝖾𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋.
﹙ 𝒘𝐞𝐛 ⭑ 𝒅𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐢𝓁𝓈. ﹚ idol!enhypen staking their claim publicly. fem!r. fluff, fluffff and fluffff. requested. wordcount` 677. アーカイブ ARCHIVE?
PLS REBLOG!!!!
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𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆 he makes a song for you as a birthday gift and posts it on soundcloud as a surprise, tweeting about it as "my gift for you, love" and everyone is loses it because one it's sounds too intimate for it to be about fans and two it's your birthday. there's so much rumours and people shipping you both and dying over how sweet and boyfie heeseung is. literally in a day there's edits going around and fans finally notice the subtle signs. later on with the company's permission he reveals it at a show when asked about the song.
𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐉𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐆 he won't, trust he would never want to let the relationship go public knowing the hate you both could possibly get. so if fans ever come to know of it, then it is through the early dispatch tradition of revealing celeb couples. he will let the company handle it first and check up on how you are doing. then when things have calmed down a bit he will personally write a letter in his classic style expressing his love both for you and his fans and how much you both mean to him, his two worlds.
𝐒𝐈𝐌 𝐉𝐀𝐄𝐘𝐔𝐍 he's so unserious but serious as well? like he will make sure by his life he doesn't get caught with you in public. but he will have these love sick eyes and smitten face while looking at you during shows and tiktok challenges and when he's watching you perform and when your song comes up anywhere. fans had always been suspicious of the guy being absolutely in love and their first guess was someone from your group and it was proved when you both mutually decided to make an official statement.
𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐍 my guy will literally drop the bomb through an social media post, twitter, weverse, instagram any or all he'll post a picture of you both from behind the scenes from an interaction you had in the past captioned "my girl!" and the just dip. fans won't hear from him for a week until he accidentally pops into one of the members' live. probably jungwon who asks him how he's doing and he'll go like yeah life's been great, i just came back from a date with y/n, it was fun. jungwon left stunned.
𝐊𝐈𝐌 𝐒𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐖𝐎𝐎 he constantly wants to make it public but the pr team just wouldn't let him? so he decides to do the undo, he runs home on a weekend, invites you with him and does a live with you together! let the pr team be damned, ignoring the calls and messages as you both giggle while starting a new live every time the staff ends it. making the fans go crazy over the situation when they put two and two together and figure it all out. he'll also simultaneously answer the fans' questions on weverse.
𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐖𝐎𝐍 he will literally beg the management to let you both attend a show together most probably something like running man and then he will make a sneaky little perfect plan to show the fans just how good and compatible you two look, playing the knight in shining armour and helping you even though you are in the opposing team. he just wants to convey silently to everyone his love for you through his actions before he drops the ultimate news through an official announcement.
𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐌𝐔𝐑𝐀 𝐑𝐈𝐊𝐈 it was accidental, completely an accident. he just meant to change the twitter account layout to prank the fans but instead of the ugly picture of one of his hyungs, he ended up putting a picture of you both from your last date. and even though it was only for a few minutes before he changed, fans had already taken screenshots and tons of rumours had already started spreading. so he says fuck it and after going through the reactions for a few hours he's posting the same pic again, texting you about it later as if you haven't already been flooded by your fans.
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