#just comes back. and says this is why you should kill yourself

[jnnul]

mr. brawn and ms. brain

sum: you hate athletes. eunseok is an athlete. eunseok is in love with you. it doesn't take a genius to see that there's an issue with this equation. after a one-sided love for the past three years, eunseok is saved when the two of you are partnered to work on an english project together. which means that eunseok's first step of getting you to fall in love with him is done. next step: get you to give him the time of day... word count: 9.6k a/n: hehe i've been working on this for so long i can't believe it's finally out lol i hope that you all enjoy reading this as much as i loved writing this! <3 someone teach me how to make visually pleasing banners. quick note: feedback, comments, etc. GREATLY encourage writers! if you felt any sort of way (in a good or bad way!) about this fic, pls leave feedback warnings: mentions of reader's insecurities, sungchan being a horrible/amazing friend, simp eunseok, uhh love :D

EUNSEOK SHOULD HAVE KNOWN THAT TRYING TO WRAP HIS MIND AROUND YOUR SHEER GENIUS WAS A BAD IDEA. you were just so much smarter than him; he didn't know why he thought that he could even comprehend the meaning behind your actions anymore.

at least, this is what song eunseok gathers from your animated gestures and anger stained tone as you continue to motion at eunseok semi-offensively.

he's only half-listening (he's perfected the art of the blank stare) and you know that he's not listening too. but eunseok figures that if yelling at him to your heart's content is what would make you feel better, then he was glad to be your not-really listening ear.

"...and you know that i can't do it all on my own!" you yell finally, your distress coming to a climax. eunseok winces when your voice reaches a decibel he didn't know to be humanly possible. your chest is heaving and eunseok, from this, is now well aware that you're upset the fact you had to work on the partner project by yourself last night.

but he didn't know how else to explain to you that he had a soccer match last night that he couldn't just skip out to work on the project - even if it was a project that would more or less determine his grade in the class.

your arms are crossed against your torso, eyebrows furrowed as you wait for eunseok to say something. he's sat in front of you, looking akin to a statue, while you're standing up, glaring down at him and from this angle, eunseok is once again reminded of just why he lets you get away with saying pretty much anything to him.

eunseok is so incredibly in love with you that it takes every fiber of his being from telling you that any time the two of you were together. which was less often than he wanted but more often than you had had in the past so he was willing to take the wins he could get at this point.

"so you want me to the work on the project, that's it, right?" he says slowly and you damn near want to strangle him in that moment. you knew that eunseok wasn't dumb and that he had only sat through your entire lecture because you weren't going to let him hear the end of it anyway but would it kill him to at least pretend like he was remorseful?

"yes," you say finally, with an exasperated sigh. "i just want you to work on the project with me."

the corner of eunseok's lips twitch imperceptibly upwards in a soft smile before it disappears, bringing him back to his much more familiar bored expression. i just want you to work on the project with me.

that had to mean something, right? you wouldn't add the 'with me' without any particular reason, right? you actually meant to indicate something with that 'with me', right?

in all honesty, you're hadn't thought of what you were saying all that hard and had just said everything that came to mind in an attempt to rid yourself of your anger and eunseok knows that as well.

he's been in love with you for long enough to know that you didn't actually mean anything when he formed these delusions on his own but he couldn't help himself.

eunseok has loved you since the moment he saw you sitting inside the classroom, earbuds in your ears as you flipped through your notebook filled with notes while he was outside on the soccer field, squinting up at you against the relentless sun, three years ago.

he wasn't sure what it was. at first, he was sure that it was just the chase. the classic 'unattainable' trope where he was only attracted to you because of the challenge that you presented to him.

but it was strange.

eunseok wasn't a really big fan of cheesy clichés or overplayed poetry about something that he was sure didn't exist anymore but everything had changed when he saw you.

your looks, face, beauty - none of that seemed to be what clicked within him. the moment that you turned your head to peer out the window, your eyes landing on his, it was like his entire soul was breathing a sigh of relief.

if eunseok was any less of a realist, he would've genuinely believed that the two of you were soul tied lovers from previous lives.

the only issue was that eunseok was pretty sure his soulmate would give him the time of day. which you pretty much refused to do. it was like you were allergic to his type or something.

you kept to yourself in general, and didn't really have many friends but at the very least, you were friendly enough to those around you. no one really had anything bad to say about you bar the fact that you never allowed anyone to overtake you on your throne seated comfortably as number one in the whole school.

except for eunseok's friends. they all knew about eunseok's hopeless love for you and for the life of them could not understand why. you barely glanced in his direction in general, and seemed to always glare at any round object that could be used for a sport - and those who carried said offending objects.

which naturally meant that eunseok and the rest of his friends (all of whom unfortunately played some sport or another) were blacklisted by you.

he'd been curious at first why you had so much prejudice against sports and then one time, had seen you be forced to run laps around the field. needless to say, after he saw you nearly trip and fall on your face at least four times in one lap, he was vaguely aware of what prompted you to stay as far away from such activities as possible.

in fact, eunseok was relatively sure that he was going to have to graduate high school without ever actually having a proper conversation. until the fateful day that your english professor had assigned you and eunseok to work on the same project together for a final grade.

it was a simple research paper, but both of you had to submit outlines and drafts that showed how much you each contributed to the project, as well as how much of the project was done with each other - all of which contributed to your grade.

eunseok had thought that this was it! this would be his in!

he was wrong. to be honest, eunseok could count on one hand the number of conversations he'd had with you after starting work on the project together. and could count without any fingers the number of those conversations that were about anything other than project division.

which is why, when you're standing here, arms crossed against your heaving chest and looking at him with those eyes, eunseok has nothing running in his mind other than just how much he wants you to know what he feels.

"eunseok! are you even listening to me anymore?" you ask, waving a hand in his face. eunseok blinks before clearing his throat. he reaches out a long arm to pull out a chair in the desk next to his and indicates for you to sit down on it.

you eye the chair warily before sitting down, folding your skirt underneath your thighs as you sit gingerly, as if you were expecting it to explode.

the sight would normally make eunseok just roll his eyes for anyone else but with you, it makes him smile.

"okay, i'm sorry. with the game last night, i forgot to my part for the draft due friday. but i promise, i'm still going to make it up to you and finish all of the stuff i needed to do as soon as possible," eunseok says. you watch him for a moment before nodding and moving to get up out of the chair as eunseok rushes to come up with some reasoning to get you to stay with him a little longer.

"although, are you sure you're going to be able to finish the section by yourself? i had some issues with the first half of pride and prejudice because of the characterization and the time period," you say, although the last half of your thought seems to be much more reluctant than the first half, as if you didn't want to admit that you had any academic weaknesses to eunseok.

but eunseok barely pays it any mind, jumping on the opportunity as soon as he recognizes it. "oh...yeah, honestly i don't know if i can do it by myself. since we both have access to the late night study room anyway, do you wanna finish it together tonight?"

eunseok watches as the gears turn in your head, bottom lip caught between your teeth as you debate the possibilities in your mind. and even as you do, he tries to control the erratic beating of his heart at the chance of spending so much time with you.

if he could explain his feelings to anyone, which eunseok was not gifted with the vocabulary of attempting to do so, he was sure that they would ask if he was ripped straight from the novel the two of you were assigned to work on.

to be honest, eunseok thinks as he rests his temple against the heel of his palm, watching as you pull out a timetable and consult it with utmost seriousness, even he found it kinda silly.

well, not silly as in his crush on you was dumb per se (although, there were times where he realized just how unfounded his feelings truly were). more silly like i didn't even know these kinds of feelings could still exist in people.

silly like how a child discovering the world for the first time might be - awkward in their gait but curiosity shining brightly in their eyes, learning how to be human for the first time.

he knows that his whole 'true love' or 'soulmate' semantics were not for the weak of heart - and most definitely not for those who were too embroiled in the 'love' of today's day and age. but he couldn't bring himself to care.

it made him want to be a better person for you. to be the man that you would glance at in more than just passing. to be worthy of your love.

"alright. i'm scheduled for an english tutoring session but i'll ask them to meet me tomorrow instead. maybe i can use some of the stuff that we learn during our project," you say with a sigh, crossing out some of the timings written in your schedule and rearranging them.

eunseok's eyebrows furrow. "you take tutoring lessons? oh, like a private tutor?"

you eye eunseok strangely, as if you weren't sure if he was making a joke or not.

"no...i teach people. i tutor for english, mathematics, and some other subjects as well. it's how i'm adding to my resumé." the chair makes an awful noise when you push it back to stand up.

"oh," eunseok says. resumé? for what? college admissions? god, he really needed to start getting ready for that. his csat score was not high enough for him to even dream about getting into a good enough school for you to recognize him.

or, you know, secure brighter future in such a competitive job market. but that was mostly secondary.

"yeah. so..." you trail off awkwardly, toeing the ground with your arms behind your back. the sight of you being awkward or unsure of yourself was foreign to eunseok but nonetheless endearing.

"yeah. so i'll see you tonight then? after classes end?" eunseok prompts you and you seem to snap out of whatever reverie your mind was in.

"mhm." it's absent-minded and almost an afterthought, as you make your way out of the classroom, pausing at the door to look at him before leaving.

+++

classes end a couple of hours later, and eunseok is left waiting anxiously in the study rooms.

you'd agreed to meet after classes but eunseok realizes that he'd never asked for a specific time or your number to communicate with you, meaning that he'd been stuck in the study rooms for the past hour, unsure if and when you were going to show up.

eunseok had been productive with his time, of course. he'd tucked away the soccer ball he'd brought to school into one of the lockers in the back and popped a breath mint. not for any particular reason, but he didn't want you to think of him in the stereotypical 'jock who doesn't partake in hygiene'.

he'd even tried to make progress on the pride and prejudice chapters he'd been assigned (by you) to write about, only to give up three sentences in.

the one thing that eunseok had done incorrectly, however, was drinking too much water. see, eunseok had a strange habit of chugging water every time he got nervous. needless to say, about an hour of sheer anxiety of when you were going to show up made him down the whole waterbottle.

which was not good because now, eunseok had to relieve himself and you were still nowhere to be seen. and he couldn't just go use the restroom and come back because he was pretty sure you'd just leave and assume that he bailed on you if he left his post in the study rooms.

eunseok paces around the room, hoping that time would move faster if he moved faster (time-space was in same dimension after all, so technically...). he's taken about twenty-three laps around the study room when he finally hears the door click open and you enter the study room somewhat cautiously, looking worse for wear.

"I'LL BE RIGHT BACK!" eunseok manages to holler before sprinting out of the study room, not wanting to look back and see your undoubtedly bewildered face as he makes a mad dash for the men's restrooms.

it's not until eunseok finally relieves himself, washing his hands in the sink that was lower than his hips that he realizes what he'd just done.

eunseok berates himself more than once or twice in the bathroom, pacing back and forth once more when he realizes just how much of an idiot he must've looked like as he sprinted out of the room like a crazy man.

"it's ok. it's ok! having to use the restroom is natural! everyone needs to! it's not like y/n doesn't, right? don't worry, you look fine. you're so hot, she'll forget it happened."

you didn't forget. when eunseok slinked back into the study room, you can barely keep the silly smile off your face, trying your best to look understanding and apologetic instead.

"i'm - i'm so sorry for coming late eunseok. i heard there was soccer practice today so i figured you'd be late and decided to help mrs. kim with creating the study set for the upcoming math test," you explain, unable to keep the lighthearted giggle out of your voice.

eunseok offers an embarrassed half-grin as he waves you off.

"don't worry, i wasn't waiting long. i just got here too. uh, i asked coach to cancel practice since both captains wouldn't be able to make it," eunseok says, looking busily through his backpack in an effort to prevent you from looking at his red face.

"you asked the coach to cancel practice?" you ask incredulously and eunseok tries his best to act nonchalant.

"yeah. i mean, you're right after all. academics are more important than sports - it's not like i plan on going pro or anything so i figured that i should sit down and make some headway on this project," eunseok says with a shrug, and it brings him a strange sense of satisfaction when you glance at him as though you were suddenly looking at him for the first time.

"you don't plan on playing in college? i mean i've heard that you're good enough for it," you say, and you sound genuinely curious, rearranging the books in front of you.

"i mean i plan on playing in college but i can't exactly get into college just on sports. i'm not that good. i still need to have good grades and scores to get in," eunseok says and you frown, deep in thought, but eunseok can tell that it's not in a bad or malicious way.

"i'd never thought you would care that much about school," you say softly and eunseok can't help but shoot you a lopsided grin.

"we're not all just dumb jocks, y/n," he responds, his voice just as soft and he realizes just how much he likes the taste of your name on his tongue.

"yeah. i guess so," you say finally, offering him a small smile.

eunseok thinks he can die happy when he sees it.

+++

the two of you don't become best friends over the next couple weeks. in fact, you still don't have too many conversations with him other than about the project, but it's more than eunseok has been awarded with before.

you talk to him in between classes now, when you see him in the hallways, and ask him about soccer practice. eunseok always blushes, casting his eyes towards the windows so that he had something to look at other than your intelligent and probing eyes.

he even sees you wave at him during soccer practice, when you're headed out early for tutoring and eunseok nearly dies of heart attack, tripping over himself as he rushes to wave back.

wonbin didn't let him live that down for a full week after the incident occurred, laughing and waving in exaggerated motions every time he saw eunseok.

he even went as far as going up to you and asking you to come to one of the upcoming soccer matches, all in the name of good fun.

eunseok had had to literally tackle wonbin to the floor in order to keep him from spilling any vital information ("please come to the soccer match because our captain has been crushing on you since his first year and we can't see him like this anymore.") but it was clear that the message came through incorrectly.

"you don't want me to come to your match that much? i thought we were better friends than that, eunseok," you said with a frown, and eunseok had to scramble to his feet, kicking wonbin with his foot.

"no - no! it's not that. i do really want you to come to our soccer match. but i kinda wanted to be the one to ask you. you know, because you're so busy all the time and i thought you might say yes if i asked rather than this idiot," eunseok had explained, tripping over his words in an attempt to make sure that he didn't hurt your emotions.

you'd stared up at him, your face unreadable. that was the one thing that eunseok didn't like about you - he could never truly predict exactly what you were thinking unless you said it out loud. you were infamous for your poker face and it made eunseok incredibly nervous.

little did he know that that was the exact reason that eunseok made you nervous.

"i'll come if i have time," you had said simply, turning on your heel to flounce away.

"you're an idiot but goddamnit, i love you wonbin," eunseok had said, descending onto the right wing to tackle him to the floor once more with a hug.

"alright! i get it! get off of me, cap!" wonbin said, pawing at eunseok's arms to relieve himself from the bearhug he was trapped in. he'd just laughed, wrapping his arms around wonbin even tighter.

which brought eunseok to his current predicament.

not only had you come to the match, but you'd brought some of your friends with you. eunseok doesn't really recognize any of them but by the way that you're laughing as you're talking to them, eunseok figures that that you must be pretty close.

"if you could stop staring at the love of your life and finish warm-up drills, that would be great, cap," wonbin says and eunseok shivers, startled by the right wing's sudden presence.

"yeah. uh, team! keep up the drills for just two more minutes before debriefing," eunseok yells, finally forcing his head away from your direction to face his team.

"i invited her because i wanted to give you a chance to impress yourself in front of her. don't make this rare opportunity into a mess," wonbin suggests with a smirk, saluting to eunseok as he ran to sungchan to finish the last few drills with him.

"that brat. and he still wants to be captain next year," eunseok grumbles under his breath, begrudgingly joining the rest of the team. as much as he hated to admit it, wonbin was right.

getting you to come to this match was already more than eunseok had ever had in the past; there was no way that he was going to let himself fuck this up. that would be so incredibly embarrassing.

"alright!" eunseok shouts, clapping his hands and waiting for the team to huddle around him. "i don't need to remind anyone that just because our team has been doing well, we still need to play at our best, right? you all know how to play soccer so just do what you've been doing and don't let it get to your head. good and bad plays both."

he extends his hand out to the center of their huddle, and the rest of the team also extends their hands, chanting their school's soccer cheer before dispersing to discard any extra gear or possessions.

eunseok looks one last time to where you were sitting, just as a quick 'good luck glance' and he's startled to see you already staring back at him. you cock your head and smile slightly, offering him a thumbs up and eunseok feels as though he'd already won the match.

"seok, i've got an idea," sungchan, eunseok's fellow captain and one of his closest friend says, slinging an arm around his shoulders.

"what bullshit are you stirring up now?" eunseok says, his voice flat and unimpressed. sungchan grabs his chest where his heart was, as though he'd been shot, dramatically stumbling backwards.

"here i am, offering to relieve you of your pining and you say i'm stirring up bullshit," sungchan gasps. eunseok rolls his eyes, grabbing sungchan's jersey to pull him forward.

"what? match is starting soon," eunseok says, unable to keep the smile out of his voice.

"i'll make a bet with you," sungchan says. "if i score more goals than you do, you have to ask out y/n. but if you score more goals than i do, then you don't have to."

"this feels like a stupid bet. i'm not doing it," eunseok says, but he can already feel himself being swayed. he'd liked you for so long - at this point, he was just looking for the slightest push in the right direction to ask you out.

"alright fine. you don't have to. y/n's pretty cute, honestly, and she's hella smart too. so i'll make you a different deal. if i score more goals, i ask her out. if you score more goals, i won't ask her out," sungchan says, a devilish smile on his face.

eunseok's eyes look as though they'd burn sungchan to smithereens if they could but sungchan barely shivers, offering him a shit-eating grin and turning to blow a kiss to you.

"what the fuck? i should've known that you were up to something stupid," eunseok growls. "why the hell would you ask her out?"

"it's only an issue if i score more goals than you, right?" sungchan says, jogging backwards to join the team again, never breaking eye contact with eunseok.

eunseok knew that sungchan was a loyal friend and there was no way in hell that he was going to ask you out - even as a joke or as a push to get eunseok to confess his feelings - but eunseok was pissed. the idea of someone else confessing to you before he ever did made him see red.

the team barely sees eunseok the whole match. which is strange, because he's in for the entire match, but they barely even see him, his red uniform appearing as streaks up and down the field. he scores goal after goal, running towards the goalpost at speeds they'd never see the usually laidback captain move at.

and sungchan was no better than him. although his heart wasn't in it nearly as much, sungchan was hot on eunseok's heels, the two of them on opposite ends of the field and being the two people that the team relied on the most the entire match, carrying the entire team to victory.

which is why when the scoreboard reads 5 - 0, the team is shocked, but sungchan just has that stupid grin on his face. not only had eunseok scored one more goal than sungchan, he'd also gone mad, ensuring that the opposing team didn't score a single goal.

"what the hell did you do to cap?" wonbin asks sungchan, and the older boy just nods in your general direction.

"gave him the push he's been needing," he says, smirking with satisfaction when he sees eunseok jogging over to where you were sitting, after shaking hands with the opposing team and thanking the referees.

"thanks for coming, y/n," eunseok says, out of breath and sweaty when he reaches to where you were sitting. "i honestly didn't think you were coming - since sports aren't really your thing."

"i promised i would come, didn't i?" you quip, and a shy smile overtakes your face, making eunseok having to use every single ounce of his willpower to keep from squealing at how cute he found you. your friends slowly start to file out to leave the two of you standing there - you in the bleachers and him on the field.

"hm, yeah, you did." eunseok's face turns contemplative and for some reason, you rush to fill the silence, in a way that you'd never felt compelled to do with anyone else before.

"i have to admit...i had more fun than i thought," you say, choking on the words as you get them out. eunseok's eyebrows ascend into his hairline - which would be hilarious if you weren't the reason that they were doing so.

"you had fun? y/n l/n? having fun? that too, at a soccer match?" eunseok says incredulously, throwing his hands on his chest dramatically. "well, i'll be!"

you roll your eyes, but you can't help the silly smile you can feel start to form on your lips.

"i can have fun, you know. i'm not always studying and boring everyone. even at soccer games where all i see is a ball go up and down and i have no clue what's happening. i think you did well, though, since everyone was chattering a lot about your performance," you say, adding the last part to appease eunseok for inviting you.

"i don't care about what people say," eunseok says easily, waving his hand in the air as if to physically rid himself of the thought of other people disturbing his mental wellbeing.

"y/n! you have to get going; your tutoring starts soon and mrs. im is always super mad when anyone's the slightest second late!" one of your friends calls out, coming closer to physically drag you away from eunseok if need be.

even his ugliest stare doesn't work on discouraging them from approaching the two of you and eunseok figures that he should work on a mean glare instead of a blank stare; the latter wasn't helping as much anymore now that everyone just assumed that's what his natural face looked like.

"alright, alright. i'm coming," you say, stepping down the stairs of the bleachers carefully, tripping on the last step. eunseok's arm shoots out before he can even think of what he's doing, catching you as you fall.

"thank you," you say breathlessly, and suddenly, eunseok worries that you can hear the erratic beating of his heart from just how close you were to each other, your chests quite nearly touching.

"you wanna hang out some time? maybe prove that the academic queen, school topper, ms. brain knows how to have some fun?" eunseok asks, and he can feel the blood rushing throughout his body as his adrenaline is at an all-time high.

he doesn't think that he was nearly this nervous or that his heart was even pumping this hard during this match. but now, as he's looking down at the most beautiful woman he's ever seen in eighteen years of life, he can't help but feel weak in the knees and just a little too stupidly hopeful.

"i'm sorry eunseok. i'm pretty busy nowadays. especially with new people that i've been tutoring. i don't even have too much time to study myself; i don't think i can afford to take too many breaks now," you explain, somewhat sorry and somewhat sullen.

eunseok tries to keep the heartbreak from showing on his face and he nods, almost too excitedly.

"oh yeah, i get it! no worries! i mean, you are the number one student in the school! you've gotta keep those grades up!" his voice sounds fake even to his own ears and your friend winces apologetically but you don't even seem phased, flashing him a sweet smile.

"we'll 'hang out' when we work on the project next monday though right?" you ask, and eunseok nods, a plastic smile on his face.

"yeah, of course," he says, and for some reason, he can't help but wonder if you knew just how great you were at letting people down. eunseok knew that you were beautiful but no one had ever dared to ask you out, for fear of the fact that they would come second to your academics.

it's hard to ask someone out when you know what the answer is.

"well, i'll get going now then. mrs. im seems like a real tiger mom and i have my first tutoring session with her son today," you say, wrapping your sweater a little bit tighter around your body as you wave goodbye, retreating into the foggy afternoon.

"how did it go, cap?" wonbin asks, a knowing grin on his face, ready to tease/congratulate his captain on his definite success in asking you out.

eunseok doesn't even turn away from watching your figure until he's just staring at empty space and fog before saying, "tell the team we're running laps."

wonbin balks, looking in your direction to see if you'd come to save them. "but we won, cap!"

"no, sungchan and i won. the team is running laps," eunseok grinds out and wonbin immediately retreats backwards, understanding the situation a bit too clearly.

he sets off into a sprint and the team is quick to follow when they see the confusing expression on their captain's face. there was a mix of shame, heartbreak, confusion, guilt, and even some anger on his face and the team was just going to have to take the brunt of his emotions for now. he had a valid point, after all.

you were none the wiser about the soccer team's struggles until your friend, kim minjeong, looks back to see her friend, park wonbin, running in repeated circles before the fog starts to cover the soccer field. she shoves her hands into the pockets of her sweater before shaking her head.

"you know that eunseok was asking you out, right?" she asks and you scoff, pushing her slightly.

"you're insane minjeong. i think that jekyll and hyde is finally getting to you," you jest slightly, referencing her english project. "why the hell would eunseok ask me out?"

"because he wants to spend time with you? because you're a fun person when people get to know you? because he likes you, i don't know!" minjeong exclaims, stopping dead in her tracks and throwing her hands up.

"no, that can't be true," you say, but when you turn to look at what minjeong was looking at, you find that your eyes search the field until they lock with eunseok's eyes, which are trained on you and he cocks his head, causing you to shiver and face forward.

"are you sure?" minjeong asks, looking back and forth between you and eunseok as you march forward determinedly.

"i'm sure. there's no way that eunseok likes me."

+++

you were sure that eunseok didn't like you. that was what you had told minjeong and ning yizhuo, another one of your good friends, when the two of them had confronted you again later. that's the truth, as far as you're aware.

that's what made the most sense too; why the hell would the ace soccer captain be any level of interested in a person who spent all of their time studying and tutoring? someone who was known to be a reserved and kind enough person but a complete hardass when it came to their academics?

yizhuo's words echo in your mind as you sit on your bed, having completed your nightly routine of taking your vitamins and doing your skincare.

he'd never ask you if he wasn't interested.

you hated when she was right. especially when it meant that you were wrong about something. most especially because it meant that you were being emotionally unaware of something.

you stare at your phone, as if staring at it long enough would produce the answers you're searching for - the same thing you'd been doing for the past half hour. you know that you should go to sleep soon; you didn't have any tutoring tomorrow but you were planning on using the time to study, not having had much time over the weekdays to study.

but almost against your own reason and will, your arm reaches for your phone and types out a message recklessly, pressing send before your brain has the time to catch up to the antics of your foolish heart.

you: you wanna go to the arcade with me tomorrow?

you gasp at your own message, scandalized by your sudden initiative and something so out of character for you. you couldn't remember the last time you'd spent more than a couple minutes doing something fun.

actually, that was a lie. you'd just gone to eunseok's game. and you'd had fun. it was something about him that made you want to set down your pens and embrace life. or something else cheesy like that.

your heart jumps when eunseok's response comes, not even a minute after you'd sent the initial message.

song eunseok: i'd lvoe to. song eunseok: **love song eunseok: no tutoring tomorrow?

you type out a response, looking up to check the time on the desktop computer, catching a glimpse of your reflection. why the hell were you smiling?

you: not tomorrow. they canceled since they're going to busan for the weekend. song eunseok: ohhh i see. song eunseok: then let's do it! 1pm? you: sounds good. you: :)

you cast your phone aside on your nightstand, not bothering to read whatever messages eunseok had sent afterwards, instead drifting off into a somewhat peaceful and somewhat anticipatory sleep as you dreamt of the next day.

+++

you're uncharacteristically nervous, knee bouncing as you check your watch for the time for the third time in the past thirty seconds. much to your dismay, it was still very much 12:45 PM.

never had you been this nervous on the day of an important exam or a recital for violin. mostly because those were things that came somewhat easily to you - practice, practice, practice and you would succeed in any task given to you.

but friends? specifically friends who asked you on dates (according to yizhuo and minjeong, that's what this was)? you were somewhere between absolutely lost and crazy scared.

it's just eunseok, you have to breathe and remind yourself. just song eunseok. the stoic soccer team captain. your english project partner. the one that you've been getting a little too influenced by lately.

you consider turning around and heading home to safer territories (textbooks) and bailing on eunseok but before you can put your escape plan into action, the bane of your existence and cause for your issues appears in your vision, jogging over to you with the classic blank face that you've grown used to.

the shit-eating grin on his face that grows when he sees you already sitting on the bench outside the arcade is something that you're not used to, however, and it makes you blush at the implication.

"i'm a very punctual person," you say as soon as eunseok is in earshot, your ego smarting.

"i never said anything," eunseok retorts and you just harrumph, crossing your arms over your chest. "besides, i thought i'd definitely get here before you. you know, to practice."

your eyebrows knit together as you try to decipher the meaning behind his words. "to practice? practice what?"

eunseok's smile grows a little more bashful and sincere as he turns to face the arcade, unable to face you. "practice showing you that i'm worth wasting your saturday afternoon on instead of studying."

you fumble for words, leaping to your feet and marching into the arcade. "i'm not wasting my saturday afternoon on you! i'm - i'm showing you that i can be fun!"

eunseok just watches you enter the arcade, a dopey expression on his face and he jogs to follow you inside, slinging an arm around you in a casual motion that neither him nor you were expecting.

"you're plenty of fun, y/n. you have nothing to prove." eunseok's voice is soft and sweet above your head, and a little too sincere for you to pass over his words nonchalantly. you step just the slightest bit closer into his embrace, an action that doesn't go unnoticed by him and his grip, previously loose and lax so that you could push him off whenever, grows just the tightest bit stronger.

"that sounds like someone who's scared of getting their ass kicked in dance dance revolution."

"oh hell no. you're on, miss school topper."

+++

as much as you hate to admit it, you have an incredible time with eunseok at the arcade. although you don't live up to your own expectations of your performance at arcade games (you chalk it up to lack of practice), eunseok exceeds your expectations.

even games that he says that he's never attempted before come to him easily, and he beats you at every single one of them, even with handicaps such as shooting with one hand for the basketball game or closing his eyes and playing whack a mole.

it's somewhat damaging to your street cred (not that you were banking on any street cred, to be honest) but eunseok manages soothe your ego by winning you three plushies at the claw machine (which he was also good at; you were starting to think that he was ai). two of them were matching so you hand him one of them, saying that it could be a good way to remember this afternoon together.

"i don't think i forget this afternoon," eunseok says when you hand him the plushie.

"hm?" you ask, somewhat distracted by the cute plushies in your arms.

"nothing," he says, rubbing the back of his neck. "what do you say we go get some coffee? there's a really nice café nearby here."

"oh yeah, lets go. i love memories café; i study there all the time," you say, hugging the plushies to your chest.

"really? one of my friends works there! you should've told me before; i would've gotten you free coffee this whole time," eunseok exclaims, waving goodbye to the arcade employee that he'd become rather familiar with after all his visits to their establishment. the employee points to you subtly and gives him a thumbs up to indicate her approval of eunseok's type, and he just fake bows in agreement, walking out the arcade with a silly smile.

"which one? the tall one? i forget his name but he's pretty popular on campus, isn't he?" you say, your voice growing unsure as you try to place him in your memory.

"sungchan?" eunseok asks darkly, a troubled expression on his face. "yeah, he's pretty popular. for being pretty. and popular. and good at a lot of stuff."

"yeah, sungchan! he's the one who works there, isn't he? yizhuo always drags me to go when he's working because she thinks he's cute," you say before turning to eunseok with a gasp. "don't tell anyone i told you that! god, i can't believe i let that slip!"

eunseok chokes out a laugh, shaking his head. "i won't tell anyone, trust me. but, uh, do you think that he's cute? i mean you come to café pretty often right? is it because...because you think he's cute?"

you frown, trying to conjure his face in your mind before shrugging. "nah. i mean i see why people think he's cute but he's not really my type."

eunseok's heart leaps for joy before stopping at the end of your sentence. "uh, you have a type?"

he opens the door to the café for you when you reach it. you enter it, mumbling a quick thanks as you brush past him.

"sure. which teenage girl doesn't?" you quip, not even bothering to read the menu, already sure of what you were going to get.

eunseok scans the café, before groaning internally as his eyes land on his co-captain, flashing sweet smiles to every person that steps up to the register, never failing to make them swoon.

"care to share?" eunseok asks, shielding you from sungchan, wanting to prevent the clash for as long as possible.

"only if you do," you retort, and eunseok's stuck between figuring out how to keep you from seeing sungchan (or realistically, sungchan from seeing you) and how to tell you that you were his type, without actually saying your name.

he's saved and damned at the same time when sungchan calls out his name, and you peek around eunseok's body to see sungchan standing there in all of his tall, beautiful glory.

"sungchan, hey," eunseok says with a grumble, and you look up at him worriedly. he rushes to fix his tone, not wanting you to think that he was a salty or shitty friend.

"i see you've brought a friend," sungchan says smugly, and he extends his hand over the counter for you to shake. "hi! i'm sungchan, eunseok's co-captain."

you accept his hand, shaking it politely. "nice to meet you. eunseok's talked you up a lot. i'm y/n, by the way."

sungchan's eyes dart to eunseok at the mention of his praise, who's still brooding slightly, with a slight smile on his face. "trust me, there's no person at our school who doesn't know our resident number one academic. you haven't given up the throne since the day you stepped in our school."

you blush, trying to shrug casually. "i'm just really lucky to have the opportunities i do."

"intelligent, humble, and beautiful? how'd you get a girl like this to give you the time of day, seok-ie?" sungchan says, and it's like rubbing salt in the wound. sungchan is joking, and eunseok logically knows that he is just teasing him for finally working up the courage to ask you out three years after he developed feelings for you. but for some reason, the sweet smile on your face directed at sungchan instead of him made him upset.

"trust me, i have no clue either. she's pretty much perfect, isn't she?" eunseok says finally, and the sheer sincerity in his voice is enough for you to rip your gaze away from sungchan and to eunseok, who's looking at you with honey dripping from his eyes.

the sweetness in his eyes makes your heart race for some reason and you clear your throat, unable to turn away from eunseok for a good couple seconds before looking at the menu behind sungchan's head.

"well, uh, could i get a vanilla latte please? hot, not iced," you say, hating the quirk in your voice. eunseok's gaze is heavy on your face and he can barely find it in himself to turn away, ordering the same thing as you.

sungchan smirks, entering the order as his eyes dart between you and eunseok, both standing less than a foot apart but unable to look at each other.

"alright. i'll bring it over to your table, then. pro tip, the second floor has the best spot to watch the sunset in thirty minutes," sungchan says. eunseok nods in thanks, pulling out his wallet to offer sungchan a ten thousand won bill to cover your coffee and his own but sungchan just waves him away.

"today's coffee is on me. for the momentous occasion of song eunseok going on a date for the first time in his life," sungchan says and your head whips to see eunseok's reaction.

this was his first date? you think. but he's so popular! and so handsome...how has no one asked him out before?

almost as though sungchan can read your mind, he responds for eunseok. "he's been asked out so many times but he insisted that he was waiting for the one."

sungchan's words barely register in your mind, and your thoughts are still racing when eunseok guides you upstairs and to the table that sungchan had suggested.

"you've been waiting for the one?" you ask with an incredulous tone and eunseok tries his best to play it off casually.

"sungchan just says whatever. it's mostly because i didn't have the time," eunseok explains. and because none of the people who asked me out were you, he thinks, but doesn't voice aloud.

"hm. honestly, before you asked me out, i kinda thought i was going to die single," you admit after a couple moments of silence.

"why would you think that? we're only eighteen! and besides, you're smart, talented at violin, beautiful, and a bunch of other things i can't think of right now. anyone would be lucky to date you," eunseok says indignantly and you smile, but it doesn't quite reach your eyes.

"if i'm being honest with you, it's all just to cover up my own insecurities. in middle school, i wasn't that smart and i didn't really care about my grades. i had a crush on this kid - i think his name was shotaro? - but he didn't really notice me. i wasn't the smartest kid in the grade, or the prettiest one, or even rich enough to dress up nicely and wear the things i wanted to.

"i don't think he actually cared about any of that stuff but my own insecurities sabotaged me enough to convince myself that he wanted nothing to do with me because i wasn't good enough. so i threw myself into everything i could. violin, academics, working out - everything. i started getting quieter and quieter because i thought that no one would want to listen to what i had to say.

"and the more i did things like that, the more i got used to being like that. i got used to being alone and focusing on my academics and stuff. even minjeong and yizhuo have always been closer to each other than they have been to me. they do fun things without me and that's mostly my fault because i never truly let them in but i don't know. it's hard to remind myself that people want to be my friend.

"especially because everyone thinks that all i think about is stuff like my studies and violin. it's hard to have fun and make memories when there's no one to make memories with. i just wish that i could have days like this, where i go out and have fun and do the things i want to with someone who wants to make memories with me."

you sigh, brushing away the tears that had welled up in your eyes as you had spoke. eunseok is silent the whole time and you finally come to your senses, rushing to lean forward in your chair and explain your sudden outburst of emotions.

"i'm so sorry for talking your ear off! i have no clue what my problem is; i promise i'm not usually so full of myself. i don't know why i'm talking about myself so much - "

eunseok doesn't let you finish. before your brain can even process, eunseok's lips are on your cheek, and your entire body just freezes.

and before you can understand what's happening, eunseok's back in his chair, looking at you as if you were the one who had kissed him, rather than vice versa.

"sorry! i just - i didn't mean to kiss you without your consent. i'm sorry. i just really don't want you to continue berating yourself," eunseok says. "i really like you and it really sucks to know that the one person that you like the most - the person that you wish nothing but the best for - doesn't like themself nearly as much as you do."

he leans forward in his chair, turning his head so that his cheek was facing you.

"you should slap me. i can take it! i deserve it, anyway," eunseok says, squeezing his eyes shut when he feels a breeze descend on his cheek. but instead of the stinging of a slap, it feels as though a soft pillow has touched his cheek.

eunseok opens his eyes to see you leaning over the table to press your lips to his cheek and in his shock, he turns his head and suddenly his lips are on yours and you're kissing in this café.

it's like fireworks explode in eunseok's body, especially when you raise your hand to touch his cheek gently before pulling away, eunseok resting his forehead against yours.

"this is cute and all but do you mind doing this at home? i'm gonna lose my job and maybe my lunch if i have to watch this any longer," says sungchan's smug voice from behind eunseok, and the two of you leap backwards into your respective chairs.

"sorry man," eunseok manages to choke out, and you just hide your face in your hands, too embarrassed to look up.

"don't mind me," sungchan quips, setting down the two cups of coffee and retreating down the stairs, shoulders shaking from trying to hide his laughs.

"this is going to be all over school, isn't it?" you groan, your head letting a resounding thunk when you collapse against the table. eunseok gets up to hunt down and sungchan and swear (read: threaten) him to secrecy but you reach out, catching eunseok's sleeve.

you let go when eunseok stops to look at you, a hot flush on your cheeks. "i don't mind it, honestly. i mean, i was never expecting my first relationship to be such a public one but there's no sense in hiding things right?"

"wait, wait, wait. we're in a relationship? that you're okay with being public with?" eunseok says, and he can see you visibly debate back-peddling and taking back your statement or going forward with conviction.

it seems that you've chosen full throttle when you cross your arms over your chest, leaning on the table. "isn't that what you want too? a relationship? i'm assuming that you wouldn't kiss me if you didn't want me to be something more than a friend to you and i wouldn't kiss you if i wasn't open to exploring being that something more."

eunseok feels as though he's on cloud nine, slinking back into his chair with the satisfaction of a cat with a bowl of cream.

"trust me, there's nothing that i want more than that."

+++

as the two of you had expected, the school is quick to catch onto the budding relationship between you and eunseok and quite frankly, it feels refreshing for you to be associated with something other than excelling your academics.

eunseok breathes fresh air into your life just by his mere presence. he coerces you into coming to his soccer matches, never failing to run into the bleachers to scoop you up in his arms and kiss you like you're the only two people in the world.

the news of the resident ms. brain and mr. brawn dating had spread like wildfire, and an instagram post with eunseok spinning you and kissing you after winning the seoul championships garners over four hundred thousand views, your romance going viral. so viral, in fact, that someone had created an instagram account just to document your relationship - the account had over three thousand followers, as of the last time you checked.

you'd initially thought that the attention that your relationship spun up would cause issues between the two of you but more than anything, it caused you to work through any issues that came up with communication and healthy relationship counseling (sungchan flirting with you until eunseok finally got off his ass and apologized after fucking up - only whenever fights were about stupid things that either of you were too proud to give in about).

and just like that, months passed by within the blink of an eye. the instagram account (you're somewhat sure that park wonbin and kim minjeong were running the account from sheer amount of footage from close up the instagram page featured) posted a video of eunseok playing insanely well at a match after one of the times that sungchan had been called in reinforcements.

eunseok's dream college had extended a soccer scholarship, and he'd committed within twenty fours of receiving the offer and soon after, you committed to the same college.

when various people, eunseok included, asked you why you'd chosen to go to the same school as eunseok, rather than a bigger or more prestigious school (although this school was still top six in the nation), you'd just smiled and leaned into eunseok's embrace.

"i can study and do well anywhere. i can't make memories to cherish and share for the rest of my life if i go anywhere else." is all you say to everyone who asked and eunseok thanks his lucky stars that he'd kissed you that day in the café to be able to hold you and talk about a future with the two of you like this.

and just as fast the last couple months had passed by, a full ten years pass by. the ten years are filled with moments of happiness and sadness, laughs and tears, but filled with life that you wouldn't trade for the world.

and when you and eunseok walk together to the high school reunion held at someone's restaurant, hand in hand, looking the same as you had as stupidly in love teenagers ten years ago, next to no one is suprised.

"look who it is! it's mrs. brawn and mr. brain now," someone calls out, causing all of your classmates to erupt into laughter. the both of you just look at each other and smile, flagging down where sungchan and minjeong are sitting and taking your own seats next to them.

"by the way, eunseok, how'd you get our resident genius to go out with you anyway? or even fall in love hard enough to go to the same college as you?" someone you don't really recognize asks from the other side of the restaurant and the entire restaurant buzzes with excitement, waiting for eunseok's answer.

eunseok smiles and exchanges a look with sungchan, a teasing glint in his eyes. "let's just say that sungchan isn't allowed within ten feet of my wife."

and with that, the restaurant breaks out into cheers and laughter, everyone returning to their conversation, the attention turning to the most eligible bachelor of their grade, jung sungchan.

minjeong leans over to whisper in your ear. "it's a good thing you had a private wedding; i bet half of these people don't know that sungchan was eunseok's best man."

you shrug, laughing freely with everyone else. "half of these people also don't know that you and sungchan have been dating for the past three years."

eunseok's wedding band flashes under the light as he raises his glass to toast to the 'inside joke' that the four of you shared, clinking his beer with the three of you.

"to the bambi boy and the winter girl!"

"to mr. brawn and mrs. brain!"

"i can't believe i graduated from ms. brain to mrs. brain."

"and i can't believe that you and eunseok have been together for eleven years instead of fourteen because eunseok was too much of a pussy to ask you out when he started liking you."

"JUNG SUNGCHAN, I'M GOING TO FLAY YOU!"

"don't skin my fiancé please. you can do whatever you want after the wedding."

"i can't believe my fiancé hates me this much."

"i can't believe these people are our friends."

"i can't believe i finally scored mrs. brain."

#jnnul #eunseok fic #riize fic #eunseok x reader #riize x reader #eunseok scenarios #riize scenarios #riize fluff #riize imagines #eunseok imagines #song eunseok #eunseok fluff

[artdcnaldson]

Has reader ever just had a "i have to get out" moment in the changeover universe?

Like art is trying to talk to her after sex and shes just staring at the wall re thinking her decisions.

They are very toxic and i know the reader has feelings for them so i think art would have been very smothering ir clingy if reader made any atempts at going out with another circle of friends and distancing herself

(im sorry i over analyse many situations 😭)

Anon… i love u <3 I love this messy main character bc i too would throw away my scruples for this man.

Rating: M

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: Toxic situationship, manipulation kinda, mild angst

Summary: You say something you shouldn’t. It messes up the fucked up equilibrium that you and Art had found in whatever you could call the relationship you had together.

FEBRUARY 2007

For Valentine’s Day, you got Art a teddy bear and a box of chocolates. He got you nothing. He wasn’t your boyfriend, so you didn’t know why you were upset about it, but you were. It stung like a fresh wound, one you could never just let be.

The two of you fucked, because that’s what you always did. The feeling of his mouth on yours, warm and tasting of mint, almost made you forgive him for not getting you anything. He called you beautiful, let his hands trace your body reverently, made you cum once, twice before he pulled you into his lap and let you sink onto him.

His forehead was against yours, breath coming in pants as you rode him, bodies pressed so close it almost felt like making love. Maybe that’s why you said it— the words tumbling out like a prayer.

I love you, Art.

He was tense, for a moment, brows furrowed slightly, before he kissed you and laid you onto your back. He pulled another orgasm from an impossible place within you, one you didn’t know existed. He came, messy on your thighs, and rolled over onto his back.

It was quiet, and you felt so far away from him. Your fingers brushed against his hand, testing, but he pulled them away and stood to redress. It was so quiet that you could hear blood pumping in your ears, like an ocean.

”You shouldn’t say stuff like that,” was what he finally said.

Your lip wobbled, just slightly. And then tears pooled on your lashline. “Sorry,” you said weakly.

“It’s fine.” But you had a sinking suspicion that you’d really fucked up. He handed you a towel, and you cleaned yourself up as best as you could while fighting frustrated tears.

”Are you leaving?” You asked. He was standing in between yours and your roommate’s bed, like he hadn’t quite decided yet. You pulled on a tee shirt and underwear and gave him a pathetic, pleading expression. ”Don’t leave, please. I didn’t mean it. We can watch a movie.”

He acquiesced, and let you cling to his side pathetically after you pulled out a portable DVD player. You split a pair of headphones and watched The Royal Tenenbaums.

Halfway through the movie, clarity hit like a lightning strike. Or maybe it was more like a sinking feeling of dread— of being neck deep in quicksand before you realize you should be crawling out.

You couldn’t keep doing this. Because Art was a dream, really. Handsome, and talented, and smarter than you’d expected him to be. And he was so sweet, when he didn’t realize that he should’ve been discouraging your affection. Or maybe he liked it, but only when it was quiet and he didn’t have to acknowledge that what he was doing was wrong.

Maybe it wasn’t wrong and it was all your own fault for wanting someone who made it clear they weren’t emotionally available. Maybe you were pressuring him into something he didn’t want and it was all unfair to him too.

It didn’t matter. It was fucking killing you.

When the movie ended, he stretched and said he’d see you in class. You nodded, smiling the sad smile of a dog unknowingly being left at the pound.

Once the sadness faded, it was replaced with a molten resentment, an anger at him and yourself over your time being wasted. He still sat next to you in class, sneaking peeks of your notes, but you ignored him as best as you could. Days passed, then a week. You started to feel human again.

A couple weekends later, you ignored the text he sent asking for you to join him at a mixer the tennis team was planning on crashing. You ignored the follow up too.

You wound up at a party on the opposite end of campus with a few girls from the service org you were in. You flirted with a new guy, felt like maybe you were worth more than a casual fuck buddy.

So the sight of him sitting at your door when you finally stumbled home was the last thing you wanted to see. All sad, slumped against your door.

He scrambled to stand, expression filled with longing. “Don’t be mad at me,” he pleaded. “I missed you so fucking bad these past few weeks. Felt like I was going crazy.”

Your heart skipped, and hammered against your ribs. You wanted to reach out and kiss that sad, longing expression off his face. You wanted to tell him to leave. It was all very confusing.

“Don’t say that, Art, please,” you said weakly, lips turning down into a frown. You tried to sidestep him, to get the keys into the door, but he pulled you against his chest.

He smelled so nice— like cologne and cinnamon gum. You gave a pathetic sigh at the warmth of him, wrapped all around you. “I missed you,” he repeated. “It’s like a part of me has been missing. I wanted to talk to you so badly, to kiss you, to watch boring movies with you.”

Annoyance and longing bubbled hot in the pit of your stomach, you had to force yourself to push him away. “You just missed having a cheerleader you could fuck whenever you felt like it.”

He frowned. “That’s not true.”

”What’s my major? What’s my favorite place on campus?” He swallowed hard, exhaling sharply through his nose. “What’s my favorite movie?”

“How would I know that?” He asked, resignation flat on his features.

You rolled your eyes. “Because I tell you about it all the time. Because I’ve taken you there. Because I made you watch it. Twice.” You finally got into your room. When you didn’t slam the door, you realized that you were aching for him to follow. You wanted him to be near you, even if you were seething.

When you turned to face him, you hated that even though you were incredibly mad, you still wanted him to just prove you wrong. To convince you that you were being crazy and he was innocent and the only problem was you being a weirdo about your feelings.

God, he was so pretty. And he looked so sad.

“I’ll try to be better,” he said. “I’ll take you on dates, and buy you flowers, and give you what you deserve.”

But you’ll never be his girlfriend. You knew it, deep down. Even as you caved and gave a sweet, sad little nod. He was across the room, holding you against his chest as you felt annoying tears slipping down your cheeks. Tears of relief, of frustration, of resignation.

“I’m not Tashi,” you said when he pressed his lips to the crown of your skull. It was annoying that he had the power to quell all of your uncomfortable emotions with a single romantic gesture. He pulled back and met your gaze, and you softened. “I know she’s always been your first pick, and I don’t blame you, but I’m not ever going to be her, if that’s what you’re waiting on.”

Something passed over his expression, briefly. “I know you’re not.” It was more of a lament than it was an attempt at comfort. “I’m not waiting on anything.”

His lips trailed down, along your jaw, at the corner of your mouth. He pulled back, looking at you expectantly. Are you going to let me?

Your lips parted softly as you kissed him with lips that tasted wet and salty. It was chaste, and sweet. He pulled back and ran his thumb along your cheekbone. “Let me hold you until you fall asleep? Please?”

It was hard to stay mad at Art Donaldson, even when you knew you really should.

Thank you for reading! If you have any requests in the Changeover universe, or otherwise send me an ask :)

#art donaldson #art donaldson x reader #art donaldson fanfic #challengers 2024 #challengers x reader #challengers fanfic #my writing

[furiousgoldfish]

Abuse seemed normal and justifiable to me, the entire time I was living in it as a kid. I didn't question it, the justifications and defenses would appear in my head before I would even start to get upset about it. 'They didn't mean that, they did it to make me stronger, to teach me how hard life is. They only did it out of anger, they wouldn't have done it if I didn't make them angry. It happened because I did x. They're my parents, they're doing what's best for me. I just don't understand yet because I'm not old enough but eventually I'll get why they're acting this way.'

It feels like that when you've never had a life away from abuse; it is the only normal way of life you've ever known, and implication that it might not be normal are too scary to explore, but also completely unbelievable. Because you would have to believe that you yourself are in a special situation where normal rules no longer apply. Rules like 'your parents love you and do everything for your own good', 'you need to listen to your parents, they know what they're talking about', and 'Your parents are just trying their best'. And you feel like you're nothing special, nothing that happens to you is special, nothing is out of the ordinary, you're feeling even less than normal, you feel like something is deeply wrong with you, rather than the situation you're in. Of course your parents are normal, and mean well, it's you who needs to get their shit together and stop being, whatever you are, it's unclear.

It can seem from an outside perspective, that a child would recognize at least some of the abuse for what it was, even if subjected to the rules of 'parents love you, they know best, you need to obey them', if the abuse is extreme, but no, they wouldn't. Looking back at my experience I was able to justify not only the physical violence, neglect, insults and humiliation, but even the constant, very detailed death threats that would constantly come out of the abusers. I listened to them describe to me how they would kill me, often implying they should have killed me already, and all I thought was 'they are just saying that, they're not actually going to kill me, they're saying it because they're angry, I shouldn't take this personally'. When I think about that now, I am appalled, you would think anyone subjected to constant detailed death threats would know for sure that this is wrong. But I was also hearing about how they 'sacrificed everything for me' and 'nobody else would ever love me like this', and how could I have known, as a kid, which one of these are lies, and which are the truth? I was heavily pressured to believe that they loved me. How would I have known that my parents had reasons to convince me that their murderous intentions were fake, but the love they had for me was real?

Without a clear reference to how parental love looks like, there's no way to tell. And if you ever do see a depiction of a loving family, your abusive family will be very quick to tell you that they're "doing it wrong", "spoiling that child", and "created a selfish brat". And how would you know that this isn't true? You don't yet know that they have reasons to lie to you. You've been told they're your parents and they only want the best for you, like all parents do. They just don't want you to grow up a selfish brat, so that's why they don't do all of the listening, hugging, caring, paying attention, conversing, and advocating for you. To make sure you're strong and responsible as a human being. It makes sense when you're a kid. When you're an adult, you understand that it never made any sense, that shaming good parents only served the purpose of making you feel like you're having a normal experience, and that your parents were right to abuse you, even superior for it.

It's possible to endure any amount of abuse and to be convinced that it's normal. I've talked to adults who've been sexually abused and trafficked by their parents and still believed the parents loved them. There's no limit to what you can convince a child is normal. Any abuse can be hidden by a guise of normalcy.

#child abuse #tw death threats #tw mentions of csa #tw mention of child trafficking #hiding abuse #justifying abuse #recognizing abuse #living in abuse #abusive childhood #traumatic childhood #not being able to recognize anything as a child #because no references and pressure to believe what you're told #can overrule anything you're experiencing

[starogeorgina]

𝐁𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧 𝐛𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐬

Pairing: Harwin Strong × Targ oc

Warning: Childbirth, mentions of violence, swearing, blood, character death

3.09

“If he wasn’t my kin, I’d have his head on a fucking spike!”

Harwin gently tilts your chin up so you’re facing him. His fingers are coated in your blood from your nose, but it seems insignificant in comparison to what your son has suffered. “You need to have a maester check you over, Vaella.”

“And take them away from our sons?” Feeling overwhelmed with his hand on you, you brush it off and start pacing again, using the movements as a way to not only cope with the adrenaline of anger bubbling inside you but also the pain slowly seeping across your body. You felt as if a sudden fever was coming on, but you refused to let up. “I don’t understand why he would do such a thing to his own flesh and blood.”

“Some people are just inherently bad.”

“But he’s my brother,” you weep. “That should mean something.”

Tears sting your eyes as you look at your sons through the doorway as they speak with the maesters. Aerion's eyes were red and puffy from crying, and when you excused yourself to go clean up your nose, which had started bleeding again, distressing Aerion further Harwin asked Elinda, your sister's handmaiden, to stay by your side. The young woman was coddling him as if your eldest son were her own. Vaegon was lying flat on his stomach in a deep slumber due to the high volume of milk from the poppy he had consumed, with maesters surrounding him. Each of them is trying to figure out the best way to treat injuries to his lower back.

“Oh, my baby, my baby.”

Harwin chokes back a sob. You had expected him to be full of rage, but instead he looked defeated. Exhausted from the worry and frustrated from not being able to help. The palms of Harwin’s hands had small crescent-shaped cuts on them from him clenching his hand so tight.

When you feel your nosebleed has stopped, you go and sit beside Aerion again, holding him close to you as he sobs, “It’s my fault. I couldn’t stop him; I couldn’t protect my brother.”

“Shh, none of this is your fault.”

“He called us bastards,” Aerion sobs. “And Jace, Luke, and Joff. He said I was the only one who didn’t know.”

You look up at Harwin; his eyes are glimmering with what you suspect is fear. Harwin crouched down to be level with him and spoke softly, “Listen, lad, I will tell you the truth. This isn’t about bastardy, the greens... They don’t want a woman sitting on the throne. They will say anything to discreet princess Rhaenyra and her sons, so the king's firstborn son sits on the throne.”

Aerion looks from Harwin to you, confused. “But if anything happened to Princess Rhaenyra and her sons, the throne would go to my mother before it did to my uncle; she’s the second-born child of the king.”

The sweet innocence in his voice breaks your heart.

“They would just do the same to your mother, lad. The Hightowers want the firstborn of Alicent to rule.”

“Will they kill us so Aegon will be the heir?"

You kiss the crown of his head multiple times and say, “No, SweetPea, it won’t come to that.”

—

You let out a sharp breath as the maester explained the extent of damage your son was suffering. Vaegon had snuck out to confront his uncle after overhearing Aemond say Aegon would be king one day. When Vaegon told him he was wrong, Aemond called your son’s bastards, then pushed Vaegon down the concrete steps.

Aerion squeezed your hand; your poor boy blamed himself. He saw his brother leaving and chased after him, but Vaegon inherited your stubbornness and refused to go back to their rooms.

“Unfortunately, it’s too early to tell if the price will ever walk again.”

Tears sting your eyes, making your vision slightly blurred. “Is he able to travel, or will it cause him more pain?”

“I’d advise a high dose of milk from the poppy for the boat ride back to avoid any distress... but in truth, Princess Prince has lost feeling below the waist.”

You grip tightly onto Harwin’s arm; none of it seems real. You glance at the door when Elinda enters the room; she reminds you of a frightened mouse with how she trembles as she walks over to you. The handmaiden had been sent to bring your daughter and to inform your sister and father that they needed to come as a matter of urgency.

“Where is Ada?” Harwin is alarmed.

“Ser Harwin, Princess... She is with Princess Rhaenyra in the great hall. There has been another incident involving Prince Aemond.”

—

All eyes are on you when you burst through the Great Hall’s main door. The handmaiden who informed you of the incident was running not far behind; she had briefly filled you and Harwin in on the conflict that transpired between the children and the adults. The first thing you notice are the drops of blood on the floor and Rhaenyra holding her bleeding arm while your father's dagger lies by Alicent’s feet. There was a clear divide in the room, with your family standing on one side and Greens standing on the other.

“Ada?” You call for your daughter, and panic sets in when you can’t see her among the various bodies in the room. “Ada!”

“I’m sorry!” She comes out from behind Lord Lyonel and runs to you, her cheeks flushed from crying. She clings to your growl and sobs, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

You brush her hair out of her face and say, “It’s alright, my sweet, it’s alright.”

You clap your hand over hers, keeping her firmly by your side; she grabs ahold of Harwin’s hand as well. You look to your father for any kind of indication of what he was planning to do, but he seems lost in his own thoughts, so you turn to Alicent.

“Did he tell you what he did to—”

“The king already knows about the slander hurled towards my sons,” Rhaenyra says.

You feel blood dribble from your nose onto your lip as you stare at Rhaenyra, speechless. You quickly wipe it away with the sleeve of your dress. An insult was the least of your worries. But she didn’t know; none of them did. One son suffers in agony, while the other's heart fills with guilt. All the while, your brother went off and happily claimed a dragon. You glance at your Aemond, feeling void of sympathy that he’d lost an eye. He was smiling beneath his bandage; he was proud of what he’d done.

“Do you have any remorse for what you did to my son?”

Your father finally finds his voice. “Vaella, what happened to my grandson?”

Aemond looks down at his feet, the smugness on his face fading, which only infuriates you further. Your voice cracks as you speak, “I’ll give you one last chance; tell them what you did.”

Alicent looks at you stunned; it’s clear she has no idea what you’re referring to. She waits a beat, then speaks thickly, “My son was attacked by Prince Lucerys. He lost an eye.”

“An eye? Prince Aemond said the Hightowers were planning to usurp my sister's throne, and then he almost killed my son. ” You turn to face your father and say, "Your grace, your grandson has been maimed and may never walk again! And his brother is traumatized from witnessing such a horrendous act.”

Madness and rage were spreading inside you like poison; perhaps you should have listened to your husband and stayed with your sons.

“Vaella…”

Harwin tries to say something to you, but you storm over to the king, who looks just as defeated as the rest of you. “Father,” you speak in High Valyrian. “This is them; this is the greens. I’ve told you again and again about the agenda that they have been pushing. That a woman isn’t fit to rule and your grandsons are bastards, and now the lies have run so deep that her son thinks it’s okay to physically attack mine and Rhaenyra’s children.”

“Vaella,” he sighs. “I cannot change what has been done; I cannot mend the wounded.”

“Do something.” Tears roll down your cheek. “Aemond is just a boy repeating what his mother and grandsire said. Alicent has just assaulted the heir to the throne and attempted to harm Lucerys. Arrest her, and I’ll feed that traitor who dare calls himself your hand to Varos!”

“Alicent is my wife.”

“Your wife?” You scoff. “The Hightowers are parasites feeding off dragon's blood. My love for her children is the only reason I’m not bringing fire and blood down upon their entire house.”

Harwin places his hand over your chest, urging you to step back. Harwin wasn’t fluent in High Valyrian, but he knew it well enough to recognise the threats you were making. “The king wishes to do nothing.” He picks Ada up with one arm and takes your hand with the other. “The best thing we can do is get our family back to Dragonstone.”

“I’ll have a ship prepared immediately,” Lord Corlys says. “It will be ready within the hour.”

Harwin nods and says, “Thank you.”

You felt your heat tearing itself apart; not only were your sons suffering, but your father had become so weak he was no longer able to defend your house. Shaking your head, you go to leave the great hall with your daughter and husband but stop when you reach the doorway. You thought you could handle the pain in your lower abdomen, but a sudden sharpness causes you to claw at the fabric of your dress. You sway on your feet slightly, and Harwin wraps his arm around you, keeping you up right.

“Send for a maester!” Daemon calls out.

“Fuck,” you grit your teeth and squeeze his arm tightly, feeling blood trickling down your thighs. “The babe is coming.”

—

“You need to push, princess.”

“I am fucking pushing!” You bark. “This shouldn’t be happening; it’s too soon.”

You grit your teeth and try to focus on the warmth of your sister's hand on your back, grounding you in the present moment. Harwin was waiting in the next room with your children; you were glad. You couldn’t bear to look at him, not when this was your fault. You should have made sure the knights posted outside the room your children were supposed to be sleeping in were capable of stopping them from sneaking out. You shouldn’t have allowed yourself to become so upset. If anything happened to your baby, it was your fault.

Rhaenyra’s eyes were focused on the bloodstained sheets below. You had been pushing for hours with no results. “Don’t let them do it to me,” you sob. “I don’t want to die like our mother.”

Tears roll down her cheeks, but she forces a smile. “You will have a baby in your arms soon, and the pain will be over.”

The contractions come hard and fast now, like waves crashing against rocks. Sweat trickles down your forehead; the pain intensifies, but you know it's nature's way of telling you to start pushing again. You bear down with each passing moment, feeling the muscles in your abdomen tense and release as if they were being pulled apart.

A few more moments of agonizing pain pass, and then the room is filled with a baby’s cries. The midwife cuts the cord and then places the baby on your chest. “It’s a girl.”

“Cassandra, her name is Cassandra.” Tears of happiness streamed from your eyes. Your beautiful girl had thick, dark hair and eyes to match her fathers. “She’s perfect—oh fuck, I think another one is coming.”

One of the midwives pushes your legs open and says, “The princess is crowning.”

The room fills with the sound of people rushing around, and blood starts spilling onto the ground. The bleeding was heavier than before. One of the handmaids gives you an apologetic look as she lifts the baby from your chest and says, “I’ll clean her up, princess.”

“Take her to Harwin.”

Rhaenyra wipes a cloth over your forehead. “Sister, are you sure?”

“I don’t want her in the room when I die.” You let out an agonizing scream. “Just take her and go!”

Your eyes become heavy, and your vision fades as you watch the handmaid wrap your daughter in a blanket. Rhaenyra shakes your shoulder, yelling for you to stay awake, but your sight is locked firmly on your newborn. Before she disappears from sight, your vision goes black.

—

Feeling his wife’s absence, Harwin opens his eyes and sits up in the bed, squinting. He looks around the room, hoping to see her, but Vaella is nowhere to be seen. He looks down into the crib next to him and sees Cassandra scrunching her face up while sleeping. His little girl was smaller and sickly-looking, but she has fed well from the wet nurse and is now sleeping soundly. Getting to his feet, Harwin goes straight to the door and is about to order the knights on the opposite side to search for her, but hearing a humming noise, he stops.

He follows the noise to the balcony and finds Vaella sitting on the ground, rocking, and Rhea in her arms, as if the dead baby would take comfort in being in her mother's arms. When the handmaid brought Cassandra through to the other room, he knew something was wrong and went to be beside his wife. The maester and midwife tried to force him out of the room, insisting it was no place for a man to be.

“And which one of you is going to make me leave my wife’s side?”

Rhaenyra interjects before anyone else can respond, “Ser Harwin will be staying by my sisters side.”

Harwin had felt so helpless when he first saw her laying on the birthing bed, with him unable to do anything to help his wife, who no longer had the energy to scream. Aerion, Vaegon, and Ada needed their mother's strength and courage, something no amount of love from him could provide them. Vaella was covered in sweat and blood; he was so sure he’d lose her. But his princess was a fighter and pulled through, yet the second girl she gave birth to did not.

Harwin was conflicted; he didn’t want to disturb her, but he didn’t want his wife to feel alone.

His decision is made when Vaella looks up at the sky, watching the dragons flying above, and begins talking out loud. “The golden dragon is Sunfyre; he’s bonded with your uncle Aegon. The blue one flying beside him is Dreamfyre, your auntie Helaena’s dragon. The largest one is your brother Vaegon’s dragon, Nightmare.”

Harwin fights back at Sob when Vaella’s voice breaks when she mentions Vaegon. He backs off slowly. She needed the time with Rhea as their daughter's funeral would be held once they arrived on Dragston. Ser Laenor and Rhaenyra had left on Dragonback, so arrangements would be made for their arrival. The maesters advised waiting until Vaella was fully healed before traveling home due to her blood loss, but she was desperate to return home. So did he. Harwin didn’t doubt the masters of Driftmark’s capabilities since they worked miracles to save his wife, but he also didn’t trust any maesters he didn’t know to care for his children.

Hearing a soft knock at the door, Harwin goes over and answers. His mouth goes dry. “Brother.”

“I hope I haven’t woken the princess.”

Harwin steps into the hallway, closing the door behind him. Without being asked, the knight on duty goes and stands at the bottom of the hallway, giving them privacy. From the way the sun peeked through the clouds, Harwin guessed it was roughly five in the morning. “Is this an urgent matter?”

“Yes.” Larys puts his weight against his stick and whispers, “My bees have been busy. And I’ve heard whispers.”

“I’m not interested in gossip.”

Hints of a smirk appear on the clubfoot’s face. “It involves Princess Vaella and the unfortunate events that took place last night.”

Rage burns inside of him, and Harwin fits a clench at his side. “What do you know?”

“Do you remember what type of tea the princess was drinking?”

The question throws him off. “It was red and had a horrid smell to it. Vaella said it was her first time tasting it.”

“Hmm, that’s what I feared. One of the ladies cleaning the room said the smell reminded her of barberry.”

“A fruit tea?”

Larys nods, as if the answer were obvious. “For you and me, it’s perfectly safe, but not for pregnant women, as it can trigger miscarriages. Tell me, did the princess suffer from any vomiting or nosebleeds prior to going into labor?”

Harwin gulps down. “She spat the tea out.”

“But she may have ingested it in small doses without knowing,” Larys leans in again. “Between us, brother, I find it rather particular that princess Vaella was perfectly fine on Dragonstone, but as soon as she arrived on Driftmark, she’s poisoned.”

“My daughter is dead. We will speak of this another time.”

Harwin enters the room and presses his back against the door. If what Larys said was true, then this was... He couldn’t even begin to process what it all meant. Not now, not when he needed to grieve.

#house of the dragon #ser harwin strong x oc #ser harwin strong fanfic #house of the dragon fanfiction #broken bonds #house of the dragon fanfic #harwin strong x you #ser harwin strong fanfiction #harwin strong x oc #harwin strong/you #Ser Harwin Strong/oc #harwin strong fanfic #broken bonds 3.09 #ser harwin strong x you #Harwin Strong

[queen-of-the-avengers]

Shouldn't Have Said It

Pairing: Mafia!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.7k

Warnings: relationship angst, heartbreak, getting roofied at a bar by someone you trust

Summary: It's been a month since you and Bucky broke up, and it's been the hardest month of your life. In that time, you realize you never wanted to be apart from Bucky. You put your trust in the wrong person, and your entire life hangs in the balance.

Between Love and Hate Masterlist

Squares Filled: "told you so" (2023) for @buckybarnesbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

You didn't know how hard this was going to be for you. You didn’t leave because you fell out of love with Bucky. You left because it breaks your heart when Bucky takes away life like he’s God or something. Could you get over it? Maybe. You shouldn’t have said what you said to him. Maybe there was room for improvement but you were so stricken with grief that you said exactly what you were feeling at that moment.

It’s been nearly a month since you and Bucky broke things off so why doesn’t it feel over with? You want nothing more than to go running back to him but it’s like you’re stuck between true love and your morals. Killing is wrong. Taking a human life is a crime. Bucky should be in jail for what he’s done. He’s the bad guy, so why do you dream of him every night? Your parents raised you to be good and to help where you can. They taught you to love and care for others. If they knew what you’ve been doing, they’d shun you for sure.

You’re scared your innocence will be stripped down to nothing if you continue to stay with Bucky. You have given him everything you possibly could. Is there anything left?

Gio noticed a change in not only your appearance but the fact that you don’t smile anymore. You’re not dressing in your usual style--flowing dresses, shorts, tanks, and all of them in bright colors. Now, you’re dressed in dark colors, jeans, and band t-shirts with your hair in a bun most days. Over the past moonth, you might have said maybe ten words to him and he’s been a gentleman and let you have the space you’re silently asking for.

Even when you and Bucky are broken up, he still finds ways to take care of you. He sent you a new verison of the car you had before so you’re not walking or taking public transportation, but you refuse to use it. That’s a pity car and you’re not taking any charity even though it’s nice and you really want to use it. It’s not going to help much but you got a job at the local hardware store where you can save up for a car on your own.

If you truly want to be done with Bucky, you can’t use anything he gives you. Yeah, keep telling yourself that. It’s so damn hard moving on because you’re still so damn in love with him.

When Gio sees you sitting alone at lunch, he decides it’s time to bring up whatever’s got you in a slum. He walks across the huge cafeteria and sits next to you. You barely look at him but he does hear you mutter his name.

“Going through a break up is never easy.”

You look up at hi with slightly red and puffy eyes.

“How did you know?”

“It doesn’t take a genius to fit the puzzle together. Bucky isn’t around anymore.” You sigh and look back down at your food. “I didn’t want tot say anything to give you space but it’s been a month. Come out drinking with me and some friends.”

“I don’t know…”

“It’s fifty cent wings at the bar on campus. They got an overshipment of chicken wings and need them to go out before they go bad. Come on, it’s one night.”

Maybe this will be good for you. You’ve been sitting in your apartment all alone looking at pictures of you and Bucky. You’re making yourself sad so going out might be the way to move on.

“Okay, just one night.”

“Can I pick you up?”

“Yeah. I’ll text you my address.”

“Cool,” he smiles. “You’re not going to regret it.” His energy makes you smile even if it’s small. “I made you smile, right? That’s progress.”

Gio gets up and leaves you alone. Gio would be so easy to be with but he’s not Bucky. He doesn’t give you the sense of danger and adventure you had when you were with Bucky. You watch him walk away, and as much as you try not to, you see Bucky walking away from you. Yeah, you might really need this night out or maybe you’re forcing yourself to get over Bucky when you know you don’t want to.

Oh, I don’t know what to do or think.

When you get home, you immediately start getting ready even though you have three hours to spare because if you don’t distract yourself, you’ll start to think about Bucky and cancel on Gio. You don’t dress fancy since you’re going to go to a campus bar but you at least try to put something nice on. Gio comes when he sayid he would, and you meet him in the parking lot. You’re not an idiot. Being with Bucky made you cautious with most things in your life. Gio is an amazing man but Bucky made you weary of anyone in your life.

“Wow,” Gio smiles.

“What?”

“You look beautiful.”

“It’s just jeans and a t-shirt,” you say shyly.

“Even better.”

It only takes ten minutes to get to the bar which is already lively with people. Gio meets up with his friends who welcome you in with open arms. There are already three boxes of wings on the table that are all half devoured with more on the way. Gio orders two beers and sits with you at the table when he grabs them. Football games are playing on all of the TV screens, people are playing darts and pool in teams, and everyone is having such a good time.

Why aren't you?

“So? How do you feel?” Gio asks and nudges your shoulder.

“This isn’t so bad, I guess,” you chuckle.

“Told you so. I’m glad I could convince you to come out.”

“Well, I figure I had my month to wallow. It’s time to move on.”

Are you saying that to Gio or yourself? Are you really ready to move on? Do you even want to? I don’t know what to think. My head is all jumbled and confused. You look at Gio with a small smile wishing you were here with Bucky instead. Actually, you wish you were back in Italy with Bucky. You had to put your entire life on hold when you were there, and you’d give anything to feel that way again.

“Your skills are getting better in class. No one can sew like you.”

“Thank you. My mother was a seamstress. She’s to thank for my love of designing.”

“What about your dad?”

“He’s an architect. I get designing from him as well. What about your parents?”

Gio clears his throat and looks down at his beer.

“My mom died when I was a baby. I don’t remember much about her except the stories I’ve heard.”

“I’m sorry. What about your dad?” you ask and sip your beer. Gio’s face immediately hardens into something that makes you uneasy. He spares you a glance and forces himself to relax but the anger is still there. “Are you okay?”

“My dad passed away a couple of weeks ago.”

“Oh, my God. I’m so sorry.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” he shrugs. “I don’t really like to talk about it.” You nod in understanding when his eyes meet yours. There’s a dark anger in his eyes that he can’t hide. He sees how taken aback you are so he grabs your half-drank beer and his almost finished one. “Let me get you another drink.”

He’s gone before you can say anything. You sigh and look around the crowded bar in thought.

“You’re out on a date with that guy?” You snap your head up when you hear his voice. “Come home. I miss you.”

Bucky is sitting right next to you as if he’s really there. You look around in panic but when you look back at Bucky, he’s gone. Who were you kidding? You can’t do this. You’re an idiot if you thought you were ready to move on. Who are you kidding right now? You don’t want to move on. No, you don’t. You miss Bucky. You miss his touch after a long day and the way his rough hands run over your smooth skin. You miss his lips when they kiss all over your body. You miss his smile when you make him work for your attention. You miss his blue eyes and the way they darken when you put on that red little number he loves so much.

So what if he kills people, right? He’d kill for you. That shows how much he loves you, right? He’d do anything to protect you. He treats you like a Queen, and you’re an idiot to let him go. If only your parents could see you now.

Gio comes back with a different drink in his hands. Right. Gio. You want to go home. Will Bucky take you back after what you said to him? Can he find it in himself to love you again?

“Hey, listen, you’re great and super nice but I don’t think I’m ready for this. It’s not you. I’m just not ready.”

“No worries,” he smiles. He sets a red-colored drink on the table in front of you. “I got you your favorite drink. Let me just say bye to my friends and I’ll take you home.”

“Thank you.”

Gio leaves your side to do what he said he was going to do. You take the glass and down the alcohol easily. Gio comes back shortly and you get out of the booth to leave. However, when you take the first step, your legs immediately feel like jelly. Gio catches you before you go crashing to the ground, and you look away in embarrassment.

“I’m so sorry. This usually doesn’t happen. I’m not a lightweight.”

You and Bucky once had a drinking contest to see who could drink the most and you won. Despite how hard and dangerous he can be, he can’t handle his alcohol well.

“Come on, let’s get you to the car.”

Gio helps you to his car and inside the passenger side. Your headache is worse, your body feels completely numb, and your vision is starting to blur. What the hell happened? Gio gets behind the wheel and pulls away from the bar.

“I don’t feel so good,” you slur.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take you home. Just go to sleep.”

He makes a right onto the main road and drives down the dark and desolate road. The last thing on your mind before you succumb to the darkness is that in order to get to your apartment, he had to make a left, not a right.

x

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes angst #marvel fan fiction #marvel fic #marvel fanfic #marvel fan fic #marvel fanfiction #mcu #marvel fluff #marvel #marvel fiction #mcu fanfiction

[cwynnie]

planning to make this a series or something haha

Green Heart

"You’re kidding, we both know he's dead!", Gojo cried as a report of Geto Suguru roaming in the market circulated in the Sorcerer world.

"I know, that's why I want you to investigate this humour and if possible, terminate him 'again' if it's true", Yaga Masamichi said as he claps his hands while speaking to Gojo Satoru.

"What will you do if that rumour is false then?",

"I understand, if that's false then I'll be the one to kill the one who spread it", Gojo stand up, but as he reached the door he said," they better watch out Yaga, it's their word against mine".

GOJO stare at the big flower shop where Greenville Flower shop is located, the place where Geto Suguru is last seen. It's a place located at the end of the city, in a serene village.

He looks at the people buzzing from the opposite roadside in front of the shop, coming back and forth from different places. Hesitating to enter, he just sighs before waiting and watching through the lens of his glasses.

He is calm until he felt a familiar remnant of energy floating as the door of the shop opens.

A man holding a big flower in a huge flower pot, with a familiar haircolor from the one holding it. Satoru waited for a moment before the man out down the plot outside the shop, seemingly aware of the stare he was receiving.

Satoru's eyes widened to the familiar person he had seen, his hair maybe on the shorter side but his face remained the same it’s just that he looks more serene now, similar to the vibe the village was giving.

Geto Suguru who was supposed to die after getting attacked by the first year Okkutsu Yuta, looking alive as ever wearing a bright pink apron.

Satoru overthinked for a moment, should he kill him immediately? or should he talk to him? but what if he fights back? will he need to sacrifice the people of this village for that?

But before more questions filled up, a woman, who has a slightly bigger stomach wearing the similar apron Suguru was wearing got out of the shop.

He didn't hear them but the woman was clearly angry about something before she smacked Suguru's back with a rolled magazine.

The thing is that, instead of killing her, Suguru seemed so patient with her as he looked like he was urging her to go back inside the shop.

"I understand, I'm sorry, now wait inside ok? stop moving too much, you'll hurt yourself",

"You better understand well, if you don't listen again, I'll cut everything I can cut from you, do you understand?", actually he doesn't. He doesn't even get the root of her anger but what can he do? His lady is pregnant, not with one or two, but three kids, him on the other hand can only catch her triple anger.

"Yes, yes, now go back inside, be careful alright?",

"hmp!", the lady said as Suguru watched her from the visible sliding door how his wife walked like a penguin while holding her stomach.

'How cute'

"I would really appreciate it, if we don't destroy anything from this area Satoru", he looked back and saw the glimpse of Gojo Satoru's blue irises sticking out from the lens of his rectagular glasses, hands on his pocket but looking as dangerous as ever.

"My wife is sensitive to noise nowadays, you see", Suguru smiled at him, which left the silverette wondering if it is his true smile or just another facade.

"Explain yourself, Suguru", the brunette glanced inside the flower shop for a moment and when he saw that his wife was resting on the couch while glaring at him, he just smiled at her.

"Sure".

"WHAT do you mean, that woman is your wife? a family? you even killed your own family with your hands, don't you say you don't remember any of that!", when they were talking inside a coffee shop which is not crowded, Satoru immediately bombered him with questions.

"And how did you even live, I'm sure you are dead back then", him looking calm despite having the urge to kill the man in front of him.

"Correction, half dead", Suguru said before folding the arms of his sweatshirt, revealing a very long scar trailing from his hands "you see, my wife is not just a normal human", he said.

"Have you ever heard of Midorima Clan?", Satoru's eyes from his glasses stares at him, urging him to continue, "The clan said to be extinct because of countless massacres by other clans who want to have their curse techniques", Suguru said as he stare at the round gold ring on his ring finger.

"The ability to regenerate the limb or heal a dying sorcerer with their blood", he whispered before looking straight as Satoru's eyes.

"I happened to meet one you see", Satoru clenched his jaw before he glares at Suguru, "Do you plan on using her for your absurb plan this time?!", Suguru sigh before saying, "I should've lock her somewhere not even you can see her, if that's the case Satoru".

"I don't even have the heart to hurt her in any way you see", for the first time after almost a whole decade, Satoru was able to see the genuine smile of Geto Suguru at him, only for it to be stopped when a shoe hits him in the face. Hard.

"You said, you wont cheat, Suguru, you liar! You're literally on a date with someone right now!", they then both looked at the coffee shop's open door as a familiar pregnant woman, looking so angry greets them.

"Eh?", both Suguru and Satoru expresses.

"N-no, wait I'm not his date!",

"Were not on a date!",

"See you're even answering altogether! I knew it, you don't love me anymore, this is just like that Drama, the man is gay and cheated on his pregnant wife!!", Gojo can't help but to slightly whisper to Suguru, "Just what the hell is the drama that your wife has been watching lately", the later whispered back, "you don’t want to know",

And so, Gojo Satoru witness how Geto Suguru a former murderer, genocider, traitor and a wanted Special Grade Sorcerer of the Jujustu World, beg for his wife to calm down, stressing and reassuring her again and again which makes him somehow, feel sorry for him.

@cwynnie

#jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #geto x reader #geto suguru #geto fluff #geto suguru x reader

[indecenthoney]

Clicker Fantasy

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

We all have that uptight or academically gifted friend who can never catch a break from their responsibilities. Always working hard to please the people around them and never doing anything for themselves. It pains me to see them put on a mask, but I guess that's the norm nowadays. That is why, we should always have friends like me! You may wake up and put on a mask, but I'll be there to take it off when it becomes all too much for you.

I know! Why don't we come up with a little signal for you to unwind?

Finished studying? Great job! *Click*

Done with your homework? Wonderful! *Click*

Completed that project? You are... amazing! *Click*

When we hear that *Click* there shouldn't be a single thought behind those pretty eyes. Completely relax your body and leave everything to me. You've worked yourself to the bone and too much of anything is bad. If you don't choose a day to relax, your body will choose it for you. And we wouldn't want to disappoint people now, do we?

"What am I going to do with you? I mean look at you... You can barely keep your eyes open... I know I know you have to get this done, but it can wait... Why don't we take a break? *Click* Mhm... It'll be quick I promise... You just need a breather and you'll be ready to work again... I made us hot chocolate... The least you can do is drink it..."

People like this will always have their guard up even with the people that care about them the most. You must give them an inch in order to get a mile. They need to feel safe because words can only do so much.

"Made sure to give you extra marshmallows... Blow on it, first.. I don't want you burning your tongue... Taste good? *Click* What are you doing standing there? Can you relax? It's cold so come here and warm me up a little... Yes, I'm asking you to cuddle with me... I'll release you once you're done with your cup..."

Lull them into a false sense of security. It's not a bad thing. What's bad is letting them toil away while it affects their health. There is good in the bad. Trust me.

"Feeling a little better? Good! While you are drinking your cup, why don't I give you a little massage, huh? You've been sitting like that for hours... Your back is going to ache at this rate... Ah, I don't wanna hear it... Just relax and lean back into me while I massage your shoulders... Mhm... There we go... That's it... Feels nice, right? *Click* What? What noise? Clicks? I don't know what you're talking about... Will you relax? You're such a workaholic... I swear..."

Any person should feel safe when they are in your arms. All the things you are doing must come from a place of love. And possibly a little gaslighting to ease the process.

"We can put that cup away for now... Just two more minutes promise... You should enjoy this massage... Two minutes wouldn't kill you... Good... Just relax your muscles... Feel every bit of the tension fade away... *Click* "

When your friend has finally dropped their guard, you would slowly creep your hands up their shirt to massage their chest. Gently rubbing and tugging on their nipples. They'll squirm and whimper, possibly even rebel, but you must assure them that this is out of their best interest.

"Shhh... It's okay... It's okay... As much as you want to deny it... It feels nice... *Click* It's kind of cute seeing this side of you... Squirming and pleading for me to stop... but deep down you want this... you... need... this... I mean look at you... What slutty face you're making... *Click* It's almost as if you're begging for me to touch you... You may say otherwise but you're body will always tell the truth... See? Even if you tried to hide it from me... You're always leaving such a mess on my lap... *Click* Why don't we take a closer look shall we?"

Slowly gliding my hand down their underwear to reveal the needy mess they've become for me. Tracing my middle finger along their slit. And showing them the product of their own depravity. Continually gliding my finger around their opening to the point of insanity.

"C'mon use your words... I won't be able to understand a damn thing you say with you drooling like a dog... Be a good girl and nod if you want me to continue... *Click* "

Consent is hot. We wouldn't want to push them any further than we already have. Either way, they'll most likely come back for more.

"Yeah? Okay... Thank you for being honest, sweetie... One finger should be enough for now... *Click* "

I would click them before each and every climax. I want them to associate the feeling of pleasure with the splendid sound of a click. I would edge them and edge them. Clicking their brain dumb.

"Please? What do you mean please? Oh! You want to finish... I don't know... See this? See how hard I am? You did this... I have an idea... You are free to cum as long as you use me... Mhm... Fuck yourself with my cock... and let me watch you..."

I would enjoy every moment of them bouncing on my cock. I want to see them cry and moan from the pleasure. I'm nothing but a toy in this moment. I have nothing to feel bad about. It's them that's fucking themselves silly. I want to watch them till completion.

"You did such a good job... I'm so proud of you and all the things that you do... "

Even when she's worn out, the training is not yet done. I will fuck into her hard and deep. Overstimulating her. Clicking her with each and every thrust.

"Shhh... *Click* It's okay... *Click* Almost there, sweetie... *Click* You're doing such a great job... *Click* That's it... *Click* Take it... *Click* Enjoy every inch of cock as I pound into you... *Click* I'm almost there... *Click* Fuck... *Click* I'm gonna cum... *Click* Don't waste a single drop, okay? F-fuck... *Click* *Click* *Click* "

With that, she can finally go to bed cum-filled and happy. She can finally get the rest she deserves. Or I could've just been stern and instructed her to take a break, but that's how I would done it!

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

Clicking you gently,

Honey

#clicker training #pet pl4y #bd/sm pet #breeding pet #corruption kink #cnc k!nk #bd/sm community #bd/sm blog #breeding k1nk #nsft story #free use cnc #degrading k1nk #risquéhoney

[ilyghostgirls]

am i seriously the only person whose default response to being treated like shit is to instantly fly into a murderous rage and start violently hitting yourself only because you don't have physical access to the person who did it

#it keeps happening in this game over and over :) #every single fucking time it all instantly comes flooding back and i lose it and hurt myself #ive spent my entire life feeling like a caged animal I'm so fucking sick of it #when i feel degraded in any capacity it's like every single fucking shit memory ive ever had to make me hate myself #just comes back. and says this is why you should kill yourself #and it feels like im sitting at the edge of a cage while someone repeatedly kicks it over and over and throws it around #i am just instantly transported back into a state of mind where i feel like this and i cant handle it lol

[rahabs]

It's just amazing to me that all the people who were having complete meltdowns in February over a video game are now on this website spitting some of the most vile, heinous, antisemitic rhetoric, is all.

#It's just. You know. What it is. #Masks off and all that #From 'this video game kills Jews' to 'yeah actually... we SHOULD annihilate them all! Brilliant' #Like it really didn't take long at all for those masks to come off. #It's just that I think you can make your point without all the 'actually we should wipe Israel+ Israelites + Jews off the face of the earth #Not even touching the people who have boiled this conflict down to 'Israel and Jews bad because white and Palestine good because brown' #Because people on Tumblr have been saying for years that the Holocaust doesn't count because 'it happened to white people/Jews are white' #Which is an entirely different can of ignorance (and I've already reblogged posts on the matter of Jewish ethnicity) #And to the people who I know will have knee-jerk responses to this: #Firstly temper yourself and use your brain please #Secondly I'm not saying all the Pro-Palestine people say this. #Just that there is a very large amount of real and vile antisemitism #And a lot of it is being propagated by the same people who back in February #Harassed people under the guise of 'this game is antisemitic' (even when actual Jews disagreed) #And who then immediately jumped on the 'Israel bad and also Jews bad and also we should get rid of them forever' train. #Like hopefully even the Pro-Palestine people can understand why that's Wrong. Hopefully. #Also do not even with the 'but that's not happening Cheyenne' because yes it is even if you don't want to face the realities of antisemitis #And the forms it takes. How deeply hated Jews still are by society--and not just Western society. #And also you know what while I dig myself a hole tonight: #Jewish people have existed in Israel longer than Christians and Muslims have existed PERIOD #And I am so over the horrible nonsensical comparisons North Americans try to make to the colonisation of the Americas by Europeans. #It is NOT the same thing and I say this as a First Nations woman with two history degrees; a classics degree; and a JD. #You sound ignorant. You are ignorant. Stop it.

[eggy-tea]

Just going to vague about it because I don't actually follow any of these people and this is tangential to the post itself, but I saw an anonymous ask to the tune of "Why do you care about atrocities going on in the world if you're an atheist (unlike me, a principled believer)? Everyone dies; why does it matter how or when if you're not concerned about the afterlife?" and like...

It's really hard to deny the death cult allegations when you're out here straight-up admitting that within your moral framework, the only thing that matters is death, and the only thing that gives death any meaning is adherence to your religion. Death + Cult = Death Cult.

#i'm assuming this person would claim christianity as their religion because it's probably the biggest loudest english-speaking religion #that can tend towards death cult #especially at this time of year #i'm also assuming american because the boldest flavours of death-cult christianity seem to come from there #but really this is something that needs to be guarded against in any social structure that focuses on an afterlife #and regardless of whether you believe in the divine provenance of a religion #it is - in its earthly form - fundamentally a social structure #and like. a belief in an afterlife is a very powerful thing when your present life on earth is hard and painful (as everyone's is sometimes #it can help you keep going! it can be the foundation of hope when there's no hope to be found anywhere in the world around you! #but *that* should be its purpose #and even then it's a very dangerous way to live for both you and the people around you when life on earth is just a means to an end #and death is that end #that's why you have to add on all these other rules like: #'NO SHORTCUTS!' (because otherwise why *wouldn't* you just kill yourself and everyone you love? why not kill babies at birth?) #'oh but you have to live a GOOD life if you want a GOOD end' (because you've deprived life of meaning; gotta add that back in somehow) #'you have to say the right words / do the right actions' (gotta check that goodness against our rubric; how else can we KNOW???) #and the 'no shortcuts' leads to 'but what if it's not my fault' leads to 'okay look. permitted exceptions include...' #leads inevitably to people trying to game the system by making themselves martyrs because people are people and we work like that #like i'm sorry but if - as a religion - you're big on the promise of an afterlife #(makes sense! the world sucks a lot in a lot of ways! imagine if you could live in a world that didn't!) #then you really have to guard against the death cult that WILL be forming within your membership even if that's not what you're going for #and you have to keep watching out forever because the minute you let up #whoops! death cult! #fun and spicy religious thoughts brought to you in part by easter and the catholic church

[jinkiezzsstuff]

At First Sight PT2

Alastor x doe!reader

PART ONE PART 3

this is a short part 2 to a request, tbh i didn’t think about continuing it before so i struggled a bit and it’s quite short! i’m so sorry gang ;-; i hope it satiates yall if not lemme know what i can cook up for you

Warnings: love sick alastor + reader, ooc alastor, mates/soulmate trope, mentions of reproduction and pregnancy (dw yall i didn’t do the no no there is no pregnancy it’s just mentioned bc it supposed to be gn), short short, swearing, not proof read, hmmmm i think that’s it lmk whatcha think

wee little taglist for the people who asked kiss kiss: @fairyv-ice @chirimeimei

Tucked underneath Alastors chin you laid comfortably alongside him in bed. You’d been awake awhile now tail thumping softly behind you as you watched the demon sleep his smiled soft and barely showing. He laid in pyjama bottoms only chest bare and on display for you. You absentmindedly traced the scars along his torso feeling him respond with goosebumps every now and again.

“Goodmorning my doe,” Alastors voice rang out, killing the silence. It was shocking to hear his static gone and his regular voice out on display, dripped in sleepy sultry. “Good morning my buck.” You reply sickeningly sweet while crawling up to lean over his face, his eyes were lidded now gazing at you with a loving look in his eyes.

“Did you sleep well?” You asked playing with the stray hair that swept across his face. “Indeed darling very well. I should be good for several days.” He chirped happily, ears flicking. “We should head down, i need to talk to Charlie.” You say with a grimace.

Last night when Charlie caught you and Al, you felt guilty, you knew Charlie was a sweetheart but you practically abandoned her all day for Alastor, then scared her silly with a deal and sex! Groaning you grab your head while Alastor stood. With a snap of his fingers the two of you were dressed, and that did take a load of stress of you. “Come now my doe, I’ll be there the whole time, no shame and if there is we’ll be ashamed together!”

Alastor seemed pretty bright in his exclamation holding his arm out to you. Obviously you trusted Al you gave yourself and soul to him and only him just last night. So while attached at the arm the two of you trotted downstairs.

Arriving downstairs interlocked you were both greeted by all the patrons already in the living area next to the bar. Charlie was the first to make a noise gasping, meanwhile Angel was practically vibrating in his seat. Just as Angel was about to talk Vaggie interrupted. “You made a fucking deal!?” Screamed the fallen angel, hands thrown behind her as the rest of her body lurched forward. Frowning you bit your lip, of course this was gonna be an awkward conversation with Charlie, but with the whole hotel listening. Even worse!

“Neva mind that Vagina! Let’s talk about the real stuff. How big? Seven? Eight? Twelve?! Ouch-“ Vaggie knocked Angel over the head with the back of her spear. “Yikes alright, twelve is greedy…. ten?” Angel whispered cackling at Vaggie who growled at her. Alastor, obviously unhappy, began to crackle with static, black shadows oozing out from the floor and encompassing the room slowly.

At the sight of Alastor’s figure demonically stretching the room fell silent, you only gazed up at the deer slightly aroused by his stature and the way his antlers screwed out like branches. “You’re quite the sight.” You say dreamily, barely even noticing you spoke to begin with, Alastor’s head cracked down to you. Coming back to himself Alastor hummed out adoringly, petting your head but wanting to kiss you, unfortunately that was a step too far for him right now.

“Uhm anyway, YN, can you please tell me about the deal?” Charlie begged worry on her face as she looked to you and Alastor. You felt the guilt crawl at you again. “I… well I’m not sure why but there’s just this pull i have to Alastor, he asked me to be his i said yes i…” You veered off feeling too embarrassed by all the eyes, thankfully Alastor pulled you in theatrically waving his microphone around, taking the attention off you.

“Well this lovely doe was just made for me you see? I’m perfectly capable of protecting such a divine creature and though I don't doubt your ability, princess I'd feel a lot more comfortable being the one to do so.” Alastor fired off sounding like a proper radio host as he did so. Charlie looked confused but then perked up happily.

“This is thee perfect redeeming quality Alastor, love is so pure! This is great!” As Charlie felt giddy, Vaggie felt suspicious eyeing the red demon. “So what did you even sell- what was the deal?” You hummed tapping your finger to your lip; well you didn’t know, just that you gave yourself to him.

Looking up to Alastor for help here he happily obliged. “Worry not you angry little woman,” Alastor replied, pinching Vaggies cheek, her angrily pushing him off. “The contract was nothing greater than marriage.” The entire room, yourself included, was surprised at this. You knew this was a soul binding contract, but for him to make that connection on his own was well to you sweet as ever. Your tail flicked happily behind you as you looked to Alastor who returned to your side.

Charlie was as equally as happy as you were, but Vaggie and Husk kept within the same boat of apprehension. “Why so suddenly?” Asked Vaggie again, but Alastor shrugged her off. “I’m unsure dear, just that i couldn’t resist this little doe. Like fate.” Alastor pondered meanwhile you briefly seethed at Alastor for referring to Vaggie as dear.

“Maybe it’s like some soulmate bullshit between deer?” Angel pipped up, putting in his required two cents. Husk groaned at that, but Charlie squeaked jumping up. “That is totally possible! It happened with my dad! Well, y’know in the beginning.” Charlie chuckled, brushing her hair behind her ear. Alastor shook his head rapidly a soft laugh echoing out of him.

“No way dear, how is that possible?” He mocked bopping Charlie atop the head with his mic, you again weren’t happy hearing him call another demon dear, but you let it fly. “Well you both are deer, could it be instinctual?” Charlie reasoned her pitch, giving away her uncertainty.

You hummed looking up towards Alastor to see him already looking down to you. “I think Alastor and I would need to talk about it privately before we have a group conversation about it. It’s kinda of embarrassing.” You admit already tired of the discussion. Charlie however didn’t like the idea of not having an answer, so with a plan in mind she turned to Vaggie. “Vaggie can you take them to the library, maybe look some stuff up online? We need to figure this out.” Charlie asked giving Vaggie a look that conveyed this was more of a do this rather than a can you do this.

Nodding her head Vaggie looked at you, who looked at Alastor. Alastor shrugged and muttered he didn’t see the issue, so long as you were safe. So you and Vaggie headed off, meanwhile Charlie calmly asked to speak with Alastor in private.

Alone in Alastor’s radio tower, Charlie sat on one side of the broadcasting table while Alastor sat behind it, tunes playing out of him. “So Al,” Charlie started breathing out a deep breath. “Can you please tell me what’s going on with the deal, listen i can’t have them get hurt! I’ll even make a deal.” Charlie said sadly gazing off, she didn’t want to make a deal, but she would.

Alastor watched her, and pitied her odd behaviour. Resting his chin on his hand Alastor sat quietly for a moment, Charlie waiting with a hopeful gleam in her eyes. “It was nothing malicious that i can assure you. Although, i’m not sure what happened between them and myself, I felt pretty agressive in my feelings to protect them. Of course that private moment between us should’ve stayed private,” Alastors words were stern as he glared down at Charlie who shrunk bashfully in her seat.

“But suppose since you know i will confess in that moment of intensity, i did the only thing I knew how to do to my dear. I’m not particularly good with emotions, and so I simply ensured I’d have them with a deal.” Tapping his nails on the desk Alastor kept his composure but inside he was scolding himself for even letting that much truth out. Charlie seemed to like the sound of that though, nodding her head in agreement.

“So you won’t, and you don’t have any plans to hurt them?” Alastors ears pinned back subconsciously, he didn’t enjoy being accused of cruelty when it came to you, and he didn’t know he could be any more truthful. “My dear i swear, on my mother, not a hair on their pretty doe head, will ever be hurt by me.” Holding his right hand up, head high Alastor watched as Charlie eased into a smile. Nodding at him.

Rejoining the crew downstairs Alastor and Charlie were shocked to see you and Vaggie had returned. “How come you guys are back so quick?” Vaggie turned at the sound of Charlie’s voice, eyes bugged slightly. “Yeah you won’t believe what we found.” Vaggie said handing Charlie a book about demons and mating. Charlie didn’t seem too keen on the book ‘uhs’ immediately falling from her mouth.

You stepped up, opening the book to the checked marked place. “It’s species dependent on how mating affects someone, in this case Doe’s are more of a rarity in hell meaning it was an instinct for the two of us to kinda ‘mate’ or ‘bond’ to one another, as if we had to worry about going extinct.” You scoffed watching as Charlie glazed over the words while listening to you. “Weird. It must be because you’re a hellborn and an angel, so technically you can reproduce.”

A record scratch sounded out from Alastor, the lot of you looking towards his stiff figure. “Don’t worry Al, we’re pretty sure you’re still unable to.” Charlie hushed to him, before giving you a look that told you, she didn’t really know that to be true. You weren’t worried though, almost a hundred percent certain that he would not be able to have children. “Welp, at least now we know that’s a thing,” Angel sighed from the background, Vaggie glaring at him.

Pulling you into his side Alastor grinned his poise returned. “Look at us figuring stuff out why wasn’t this just the teamwork we all needed, good job.” Alastor applauded slightly condescending, but Charlie was happy with it nonetheless giving two thumbs up to you and Alastor.

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel oneshots #alastor hazbin x reader #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel alastor x reader #alastor the radio demon #alastor hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x you #hazbin alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor

[gojorgeous]

"sure thing"

pairing: target!gojo x assassin!fem!reader summary: you've been hired to kill the satoru gojo. how will you pull it off... and what will you do when he figures it out? content: MDNI (18+ only), nsfw, darkish content (all is well in the end), no established relationship, assassins/organized crime, blackmail, mention of a “suicide mission”, attempted murder (uhhhh), hidden identity, intended use of sex as a means to an end, mating press, unprotected sex, p->v, creampie, oral (fem!receiving), praise, pet names (gorgeous/sweetheart/baby), slight aftercare. a/n: me 🤝 describing gojo as having dimples welcome to my second 1k followers event fic! At this rate tho i’m going to hit 2k before i finish the 1k event LMAO. not that i'm complaining hehe. thank you for being patient and for all the support on my recent works! i really appreciate every ask, comment, follow, reblog, everything. they mean the world to me. check out the rest of my 1k event here. enjoy and remember that ALL AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED! creds: twitter template by @cafekitsune wc: 7.8k

“Who?!” 

No fucking way. There’s no way he just said what you think he said. 

“You heard me,” he scowls. He glares at you from across the desk. His seat is one of those cushy little office chairs, of course. Yours is plastic– cold and hard.

“Are you fucking insane?” you hiss. There’s no other explanation for what he’s asking you to do. He’s lost his fucking mind. 

“We have a client willing to pay big money for this. Big money for just an attempt,” he answers. 

You laugh, but there’s absolutely nothing funny about this conversation. “Oh, I’m sure you do. Probably because he’s practically invincible. I’ll never even lay a hand on him.” 

Your “boss”, for lack of a better term, only scowls harder, the wrinkles forming near his eyes etching deeper in his skin. “Well, you’d best find a way to make it work. You’re taking this job. That’s final.” You scoff. Maybe you should recommend he see someone… “No. There’s no way. I’m not doing this.” You stand, grabbing your bag and slinging it over your shoulder. “Get someone else to go on your suicide mission.” You take a couple strides toward the door before two very large men move to block your path. 

“Not so fast,” your boss calls. You pause, eyeing up your competition. You could definitely take them if you needed to. You sense only a very faint amount of cursed energy coming from each of them– not even enough to make you blink– but something in your boss’s tone makes you turn back. 

“Yes?” You cross your arms over your chest, fingering a blade hidden in your breast pocket. 

He fiddles around in his pocket, pulling out a cigarette and lighting up right there in his office. You don’t try to hide the way your nose scrunches up. “You want to do this job.” 

Your eyes narrow. Something tells you you’re not going to like what comes next. “And why’s that?” 

He takes a long puff, letting the smoke flowing out of his lungs with a slow exhale. “Because otherwise that little brother of yours is gonna be…” he pauses to give you a smile that makes your stomach churn. “Hmm… a lot smaller, shall we say? Maybe in several limb sized pieces?”

You think your heart stops. Time halts as ice runs through your veins. Nobody knows about your brother. At least, they didn’t. 

Your boss’s smile grows even wider. In all your time as an assassin, you’ve never wanted to kill someone more. But you know you can’t. Just an attempt on his life will end your brother’s. 

“Don’t worry. He’s all tucked away and safe at home where you left him.” Just a tiny piece of your heart thaws with relief. “But try to run with him, or run yourself, and he won’t be safe much longer.” Your pulse pounds so viciously you’re sure everyone can hear. A bead of sweat rolls down your neck. “Now, will you accept the assignment?” 

Your jaw clenches. He got you. In all these years of working for him you’ve been careful, meticulous about hiding every piece of your personal life to avoid situations just like this. But he still got you. He got you. 

“Yes,” you breathe. You have no choice. You will either kill Satoru Gojo or you will die trying. 

“Good,” is all he says, and then you’re being escorted out of the office wondering where the hell you went wrong. 

~

It’s been three weeks since that fateful meeting with your boss. True to his word, your brother has remained unharmed, but you see his lackeys lurking around every corner. Neither you nor your brother are truly safe and you never will be again unless you can pull this off and then put together some plan to escape your boss’s clutches. 

You’ll fail. You know you will. The thought eats you up inside with every waking moment. 

You’ve done your best to learn every possible piece of information about Satoru Gojo in the past two weeks. You know you can’t tail him closely– he’d pick up on your cursed energy and notice your incessant presence, so you’ve had to study from a distance with only minimal moments of proximity. You know where he works, who he works with, what restaurants, bars, and clubs he frequents and what days of the week he tends to visit. You know what his order is at his favorite ramen restaurant, where he lives, what time he wakes up. Hell, you know what fucking brand of dish soap he uses. He lives a surprisingly… predictable lifestyle. He makes no attempt to switch up his schedule or cover his tracks. In any other situation he’d be every assassin’s dream, but this is Satoru Gojo and Satoru Gojo doesn’t need to worry about assassins– assassins need to worry about him.

It took you the first week to come up with a plan. You had no clue how you were going to get close to him, much less kill him, and his infinity technique was going to prove particularly problematic. How were you supposed to kill him when you couldn’t even touch him? You had to get him in a situation in which he would willingly let his guard down for you. 

You’d been on the subway when it hit you. Sex. You’d get him to have sex with you. If you could get him to take you home, he’d have to turn infinity off for at least a short time. That would be your time to strike. 

You’d spent the next two weeks primping yourself. You’d bought the most expensive dress you’d ever owned, got a mani-pedi, whitened your teeth, and spent a small fortune on makeup. Considering your circumstances, you thought your plan was quite a good one. You knew when he’d go out to the bar with his friends, which bar he’d go to, how long he’d stay, how he’d get a taxi home. You also knew when you’d arrive, how long you’d stay, and how you’d get a taxi with him– everything planned perfectly to best catch his attention. But for all your planning, there was still one thing you didn’t know. What kind of woman did Satoru Gojo go for? Someone submissive? Teasing? Aggressive? Playful? In all your time tracking him you’d never seen him take somebody home. It struck you as… odd. He was Satoru Gojo, renowned for his power, wealth, and good looks– surely he had women falling at his feet. Maybe he was just a little more… selective. If that was the case you’d have to be even quicker on your feet when you finally met him. And that time is now. 

You’re in your bathroom, checking your makeup one last time before heading out the door. Your brother sleeps soundly in the room down the hall, safe for the time being. You’ve contacted a friend, one who is at least willing to try to get him out if– when– you fail. You doubt it will be enough.

You make your way to his room. A quick peek inside reveals he’s snuggled up with a plushie elephant that he carries around like they’re attached at the hip. You creep inside, a sad smile on your lips. This may very well be the last time you see him. You brush a stray lock of hair from his eyes and press a kiss to the crown of his head. With one last whispered ‘I love you’, you’re out the door. If you linger, you won’t be able to go– and you have to. For him. 

The streets of Tokyo are cold tonight, like the weather knows what you’re about to attempt, like it’s preparing for death, for failure. For your failure.

The club you arrive at is upscale, and one where you’ve already tipped off the bouncer to let you bypass the line. You hear a few groans from the people behind you as you saunter straight inside. 

You’re conscious of every little move from the second you step inside. At any moment, he could see you and it could make or break your entire plan.

You press your shoulders back. You have a plan– stick to it. 

You make your way over to the bar, weaving your way between groups of people who are somewhere between giggling a little too loudly and tripping over their own feet. 

You find a free space at the bar and lean up onto your elbows, your eyes screening the bartenders. You smile when you see a familiar face. 

“Hey, Dean,” you call.

He turns and the sight of his friendly green eyes sets you a little more at ease. 

“Oh, shit. Hey!” He slings a towel over his shoulder and comes to stand across from you. “You’re back,” he says. You nod and smile softly. Ever since you’d determined this would be the place you’d been coming periodically, chatting up the bartenders. The last thing you needed was to stand around in a corner alone with seemingly no friends. That wouldn’t attract anyone, much less Satoru Gojo. 

Out of all the bartenders, Dean was your favorite– and you’d been oh so happy to learn that his schedule put him on every Friday night. 

“Yeah. Long day at work.” 

A smile pulls at his lips, but there’s a hint of sympathy in his eyes. “The usual, then?” 

You nod solemnly. “That’d be great. Thanks.” 

You watch him prepare the drink for you, feeling a little bad that it’s all a lie. There’s no bad day at work, you didn’t just happen to come in here one day and strike up a conversation with him. All of this is premeditated, planned, and it feels… lonely. It feels lonely to know that on what is probably your last night on earth you are surrounded by people who only think they know you. 

“So, anything new happening?” Dean drops your drink in front of you and you have a feeling it’s filled with a little more vodka than he’s supposed to put in there. 

Your eyes shift around the bar as subtly as you can manage. As much as you want to seem like you fit in, you also need to find Gojo. It’s a fine balance. 

You shrug. “Yeah, I guess I just feel like a lot of things are going to be changing for me pretty soon.” 

His brows pull together and the look he gives you is one of genuine interest and concern. It makes your heart wrench. “How so?” 

You swallow. “Dunno. Just… everything.”

There’s a moment of silence and then the tapping of a finger on your glass. “Damn, girl. Drink up. You need it.” 

You can’t help but smile. You have a feeling that Dean would have been a good friend of yours in another life. 

You take his advice, though, and bring your drink to your lips and force a smile. You can’t be moping– not tonight. 

The next twenty minutes are spent with Dean. Even when he’s making other drinks he’s still chatting with you, still being a good… friend. You dread leaving your little haven at the bar. The time is coming when you’ll have to seek out your target.

You’re shocked when it’s the other way around. 

“Hey, gorgeous.” There’s a light brush on your shoulder and you turn. It takes all you have to keep your features schooled and calm. Satoru fucking Gojo just tapped your shoulder. 

Nothing prepared you for how handsome he is up close. All those days of research, of tracking and tailing– none of it does the real thing justice. Even with those stupid sunglasses inside… he’s fucking beautiful. “I’ll pay for all of your drinks tonight if you let me skip this hideous line,” he whines. 

You give yourself no more than a second to recover. You school your features into a smirk. You glance at Dean with an ‘is this okay?’ look. He just smiles and shrugs. 

You turn back to Gojo, bracing yourself this time for the beauty you’re about to face. You meet his gaze and know you could get lost in it. “Be my guest.” 

His smile nearly blinds you and his dimples nearly make you pass out. Still, you keep your cool. 

“Yesssss!” He looks like a puppy just offered a bone. 

He spills his drink order to Dean and it’s far more than could possibly be just for him. He’s here with his friends, then. Probably the blonde man who always looks too tired to be here and the girl with the brown hair who always seems like she’s just along for the ride. 

You bite your lip to hide a laugh when he orders himself two strawberry daiquiris. Somehow you still catch his attention. 

“What?” he pouts. You can’t help but feel a small stirring of surprise in your gut. He’s far more… relaxed than you’d expected him to be. He’s almost… childish? 

You press your lips together and shake your head. You’ve reached the point where your research can’t take you any further. From this point on, it’s up to you to discover what Satoru Gojo likes in a woman. 

You debate how to answer. Play coy? Tease him? Stay silent? Any option could be as correct as the next. You didn’t know where to start… so maybe you’d just start by being yourself. 

“Just, um… not the order I was expecting,” you laugh. It’s halfway genuine. With the way he’s acting, it’s hard to remember that he’s the most powerful man alive. 

His pout only intensifies. “Well, what’s your order?” 

His question is answered when Dean sets another cosmopolitan in front of you. You laugh. “Never said I was judging, just that it wasn’t what I expected.” 

Another smile tugs at his lips and something stirs in your gut that you try your very hardest to ignore. This was a job. There was no room for actually enjoying it. This man was probably going to kill you later, in a matter of hours. 

There’s a beat of silence, and then a slight shift in his demeanor. He leans closer and you see a twitch of his lips. Your heart jumps. 

“You’re a sorcerer,” he says. 

You hold back an exhale of relief. You thought he might be onto you. If he is, he’s choosing not to reveal it yet. 

You nod and take what you hope is a casual sip of your drink. “And you’re Satoru Gojo.” 

A brow arches high enough for you to see it over his sunglasses. “You know who I am?” 

You force a chuckle, smirking despite the pounding of your heart. “Who doesn’t?” 

You’d decided long ago to tell him that you knew exactly who he was. It would seem more suspicious for a fellow sorcerer to have no idea what the Satoru Gojo looked like. 

He flashes you a smile full of white and stupidly fucking perfect teeth. “That’s true, heh.” You press your lips together to avoid a smile. Not too humble, then… 

“So, what’s your technique” 

You shoot him a glance that questions his sanity. Asking a sorcerer what their technique is… is personal. It’s not information you give out to a rando at the bar– even if it is Satoru Gojo.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” You take another sip of your drink, trying your hardest to remain somewhere on the border or interested and casual. 

“Bet I could find out.” 

That makes you turn fully, angling your body toward his. “Oh yeah? You challenging me to a fight?” You smirk and shake your head. “I’ll pass.” 

He pouts again, but you see a hint of a smile peeking through. “Aw, come on. That’s no fun…” 

You chuckle and take another sip of your drink. You’re not sure you’re sipping just for appearances anymore. You think you probably just need a little liquid courage to see this thing through. “Sorry. I value my life.” 

You watch as he slides his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose, just enough for you to get a glimpse of what’s behind. You nearly choke again and this time you don’t manage to hide your nervous swallow when he smirks. 

“You’re so sure you’d lose?” His voice is teasing now and you hate that it’s actually having an effect on you. Job, job, job, just a job… 

You clear your throat. “I like to think I’m not stupid enough to think that I could win.” 

His eyes are blue– so fucking blue– and you feel like he’s seeing straight into your soul. Can he see? Can he see your filthy intentions? Your plotting? The rottenness of what you’re going to do? “What if I promise to take it real easy on you?” 

Your drink is forgotten now. You’re lost in what he’s saying– in him. “No thanks.” Your voice is growing lower and you feel like there’s some magnet forcing you to lean into him, to seek his warmth. 

“So you like it rough, then.” The trance is broken and your blood runs hot. Holy shit. This man is flirting with you and you hardly even had to try. He's trying to take you home. Little does he know, you’re a sure thing. 

You watch as he throws back the rest of his strawberry daiquiri with a pleased “ahhh” at the end. When he turns back to you his eyes have a certain spark in them that makes your thighs press together. “You wanna dance with me?” 

Fuck. This is going too well to be real. But you’re not about to pass up a good deal. 

“What about your friends?” you ask and eye the several untouched drinks still left on the bar. It’s risky– giving him an out, but you can’t seem too eager.

He follows your gaze only to bounce his eyes straight back to you. “I’m sure they’ll get a look at ya and understand.” 

The smirk he’s giving you is making electricity shoot straight between your legs. Damn. You really wish you didn’t have to kill him– or at least try to. 

When he extends his hand you only hesitate for a second. Your heart leaps when you feel his skin on yours, knowing he’s let infinity down. He pulls you onto the dancefloor and it’s not long before he’s running his hands all over you– groping your ass, pinching your thighs, nipping at your neck. Pretty soon the dancefloor evolves to a dark corner of the club with his lips on yours and goddamn he’s a good kisser. You’ve got your fingers in his hair and his hand way too close to your boobs when he whispers those fateful words– “let’s get out of here.”

You can only hide your swallow and nod before he’s pulling you through the crowd, leaving the club behind. He hauls you both into the backseat of a taxi and the door’s barely closed before he’s all over you again. You think you hear the taxi driver mutter something about ‘staining the seats’ but you’re too far gone to give a shit. 

Fuck, he feels good. He’s kisses you like he’s starved and your lips are the fountain of fucking life, like he’s never felt something so good and now he can’t get enough. And, god, he’s handsy. You’re forever grateful to your past self for discreetly hiding your blade in your bra– he would have felt a holster on your thigh at least ten times over by now. 

He groans when you arrive at what you know is his apartment building, though you don’t let on that you recognize the place in the slightest. The look on his face makes you think he’s feeling actual physical pain at the prospect of having to peel away from you for even a second. Nonetheless, he tosses a wad of cash at the taxi driver and pulls you straight inside.

He can’t even wait for the elevator to come, groping your waist right there in the lobby and then when the elevator finally does come, shoving you up against the metal wall a licking stripe across your collarbone. 

You can’t deny how nice it feels to be so desperately… wanted. Never once has a man made you feel this way– so consumed by him, him, him. Once again you curse the universe that you’re here with a mission other than getting laid. 

You find yourself giggling when he pulls you out of the elevator and presses his palm to a fucking scanner to get into his apartment. You try to pull yourself together, but when he laughs with you, you can’t help but melt into him a little more.

As soon as the door clicks shut behind you, he’s got you up against another wall with your legs wrapped around his waist and his face buried in your neck. His sunglasses are long gone and you pull at his shirt, popping the buttons straight off the fabric until you slide the shirt down his shoulders and onto the floor.

“That was Versace,” he whines. 

You plaster your lips to his. “I don’t care.” All he does is chuckle. 

“So gorgeous…” he breathes and your head slumps back against the wall, giving him better access to the soft skin of your neck. Any minute now. Any minute he’s going to start stripping your clothes off and you’re going to have to let this charade crumble. You don’t want to. He’s practically worshiping you. It’s perfect, it’s amazing, and you don’t want it to end. 

His fingers dig into the flesh of your ass and suddenly you’re moving again– moving, moving, moving until your back is bouncing against the softness of a mattress and you’re fucking giggling again like a lovesick idiot. Maybe you’d had a few too many sips of those cosmopolitans. 

He’s smiling as he crawls over you and the sight makes your heart flutter with both lust and terror. Lust because he’s so fucking beautiful and terror because you know that any moment now you’re going to attempt to end that beauty forever. 

A lump forms in your throat and you try unsuccessfully to swallow it. You have to do this, have to try. There’s no other way, no other option. Not for you.

Your thoughts must not have been as perfectly concealed as you’d thought because he quirks a brow. “Something goin’ on up here?” His lips slide across your temple in a touch that feels far too tender for a hookup. “Don’t worry, baby. It’ll fit.” He snickers at his own joke before burying himself in your neck. His hand slides down your side, pressing you up into him until you can feel every curve and cut of his muscles. 

You bite your lip. You’ve already slipped enough for him to notice your nerves– you can’t let it happen again. You have to do it soon. Now. As soon as you see an opportunity you have to strike. You have to. 

You arch up into him, scratching your fingers down his back, trying to seem as invested in the moment as you can. He gets greedier, leaving open-mouthed kiss down your neck, across your collarbone. You nearly freeze up when he kisses low into the valley of your breasts– as low as your dress allows. Then he moves over your clothes, kissing down your stomach as his hands rub your thighs. 

Now. Now, while he’s not looking.

You slide a hand into his hair and another up to your chest, trying to play it off like you’re touching yourself. You sneak your fingers into your bra, feeling the cool metal of your blade glide across your thumb. Now. 

You fist your fingers in his hair, holding his head down as best you can while you arc the blade toward his neck. Just one good hit, please… 

You think you’re going to strike true– you’re so close– and then a firm hand wraps around your wrist, stalling your attack just as it was about to land. 

Fuck. 

He doesn’t look up right away, but you hear him sigh, feel his hot breath fanning over your thighs and stomach. When he finally does look up it’s with the eyes of a teacher who’s disappointed his student didn’t do their homework. 

“Come on now, baby. I was really hoping you’d forget about all this and we could just have a good night together…” He’s pouting, whining, like a child who’s been told he can’t have dessert before dinner. Your shock stills you long enough that he easily maneuvers the blade from your hand, throwing it with a thwack into the wall to his right. It lands perfectly. 

This is it. You’re going to die now. But not without a fight. 

You spring up from the bed, kicking him a couple times in the process. You’ve missed your only chance. Now, if there’s even the slightest chance of escape, you have to take it. 

You bare feet hit the carpet. No time to find your shoes. You dart for the door and hear him groan behind you. For a second you think you might actually make it, but you should know better. 

He appears in front of you, straight out of fucking thin air, and his pout has transformed into something a little more sinister. “Come on, gorgeous. Let’s talk it out, yeah?” 

You take a shaky step back, but you know it’s no use. He’s got you. It’s over. 

You swallow and lift your chin– you at least want to die with a little dignity. “Just make it quick. Please.” 

He sighs again and slides his hands in his fucking pockets, like this is just a stroll down the street. He stalks toward you, forcing you back until you’re pressed up against another wall. This motherfucker really likes walls. 

His pout shifts to a smirk that borders far too closely on a grin. “Oh, no. I’ve always had a thing for taking it slow.” 

You nearly snort. He certainly hadn’t had a thing for taking it slow just a minute ago. His arms cage you and your world grows infinitely smaller until it’s just him and those blue-ass eyes staring you down. Some distant part of you thinks you might not mind if it’s the last thing you ever see. 

“Damn, I really thought you might give it up and just let me fuck you,” his pout returns. “So disappointing…” he sighs. 

Your lips part. “You knew?” 

That lights his face up like a Christmas tree. “Sensed you tailing me these past few weeks. Started on theeeee– 21st, no?” 

Fuck. You’d been so careful. You’d only tailed him in public spaces, where your energy would be more diluted by the crowds. You’d stayed far enough away that he should only have caught mere glimpses of you, even suppressed your energy. He should not have been able to sense you. But he was Satoru Gojo– things people were not supposed to be able to do came easily to him. 

But you have one thing on him. 

“The 18th,” you whisper. “Started on the 18th.”

There’s a beat of silence and then his smile is growing wider, wider, wider, until it’s practically blinding you. “Well, shit,” he laughs. “You’re pretty good.” 

You let a tiny smile slip through your terror. “I try.” 

His eyes travel up and down your body, his pout slipping away to a frown. “What to do with you… hmm…” You lift your chin, taking shallow little breaths through your nose. You’re looking death in the face, but you’d never thought it would be so beautiful. He sighs. “I guess I could let you go.” 

You freeze. He notices. 

He quirks a brow, another smirk sliding across his lips. “What? Didn’t think that was an option?” You stay silent. No way he’ll let you go. It’s a bluff. A cruel trick. “It’s not like you could try again, gorgeous. I know your energy now and what you look like. Sorry, but your chance is gone.” That was fine by you. Your breaths come a little heavier, hope pulsing in your veins. “But–” shit. “Letting you go is so… boring. Especially after where we left off, yeah?” 

Your jaw drops. “You cannot seriously be suggesting that we–” 

He cuts you off with a kiss, one that makes your toes curl in the carpet and your stomach clench in anticipation. 

“Oh, yes I am,” he chuckles. You feel his hand sliding down your hip, cool and calculating. “I know you weren’t faking the whole thing, gorgeous. Nobody makes out like that when they’re faking it.” You feel your cheeks heat. “And nobody gets this wet-” his fingers snake beneath your skirt, pressing to the wet patch on your panties. “When they’re faking it.” You gasp and reach out, hands clasping onto his shoulders for support. He only chuckles. “No worries, gorgeous. No need for any more faking tonight. I’ll make sure it’s all real.” 

Somehow you’ve got your legs wrapped around his waist again and you’re headed to the bedroom– again. It’s like a replay– a redo. 

“Let’s keep it less killy this time, yeah?” 

Your back hits the mattress, your body bouncing lightly on its softness before he’s crawling after you. It’s simultaneously the best and worst deja vu you’ve ever experienced. 

His hands slide down your body again, fingertips hooking beneath the hem of your skirt and shimmying it up your thighs until your panties are on full display. 

“Shit,” you breathe. He’s moving so fast, like he’s desperate to go further, to get his greedy hands all over your bare skin. 

You can’t say you blame him. You feel the same.

His thumbs hook under the fabric of your panties and you know it’s over for you. You can feel his warm breath skating across your thighs, feel the calluses on his hands scraping against your skin. You reach a hand down, tangling it in his hair, and you nearly faint when he smirks and looks up at you with those blue fucking eyes. 

“I think I’ve seen this film before, sweetheart.” He tilts his head, resting his cheek on the plush of your thigh. “No more knives hiding anywhere, yeah?” 

You clench your jaw, trying to control your pounding heart. You can’t believe you’re doing this. Why are you doing this? You wish you had a better answer than he’s beautiful and sexy and just a glance at him makes you want to rip his clothes off and climb him like a tree. 

“Silent, hm? Guess I’ll just have to check myself…” 

He’s pressing up the hem up your skirt, more, more, more, until he’s pulling your dress straight up over your arms and running his hands down your bare sides. 

“None there…” His fingers cup your breast and you gasp, unable to contain your shock and the jolt that just rushed through you. He traces the outline of your bra. “You had the last one in here, no?” Your chest heaves under his touch, pressing the flesh of your breast up into his fingers. He smirks. “Best check again.” You feel an arm slide beneath you back and then your bra loosens before it’s completely gone. 

There’s a beat of silence, of admiration. He gazes down on you and you see his snark falter for just a moment, replaced by a sparkle in his eyes. It makes your skin heat. His fingers brush the swell of your breasts, thumb trailing down over a nipple. You arch and gasp again. 

“Fuck. Quit teasing so much.” 

He chuckles and the sound washes over you until it settles in your bones. “Sush. I’m not done checking for weapons yet.” 

You scowl but before you can even move to open your mouth he’s sliding your panties down your legs, hooking them around your ankles and tossing them somewhere on the floor.

His tongue darts out to wet his lips and you watch him settle himself down between your thighs, eyes never once leaving your center. “Don’t see any knives here, either, but maybe I should double-check…” he breathes. 

He hooks your legs over his shoulders and you shudder, your breaths shaky. Fuck. You were supposed to kill him tonight but if he keeps going like this you’ll be the one deceased. 

He meets your eyes when he takes the first long lick along your folds. You swear he’s smirking.

Your head rolls back and a pathetic sounding groan slips past your lips. You hadn’t realized how much he’d worked you up. Just the slightest touch feels like heaven.

His tongue nudges at your clits and your legs clench, tightening around his head. He laughs into your cunt and his warm breath skates up and over your tummy. Your fingernails scrape his scalp.

“I think you like this, gorgeous.” 

Each word sends little puffs of air against your folds. It’s driving you crazy. You stare down at him, letting a smirk pull at your lips. Your eyes dart over his mouth, wet with your slick, and you don’t fail to notice the way he’s struggling to hold your gaze, eyes flickering back down to your cunt every second. Your smirk grows. “I think you’re liking this, too.” 

He licks another stripe, from you pulsing hole to your throbbing clit, and this time he’s the one groaning. “Damn right I am.”

He eats you out like he kisses you– like a starved man, like he’ll die if he stops for just one second, like he can’t live without your juices on his tongue. 

You whine and bury both hands in his hair, tugging desperately when his lips wrap around you clit and suck. It’s so much, too much, and yet it’s just right. 

Your hips buck and squirm, but he’s got his fingers pressed deep into your flesh, holding you down to take whatever he gives. You think you see heaven when he slides two fingers into your walls, curling them into that gummy spot that has an unbearable heat building deep inside you. 

“S-Satoru-” you stutter and you hear him moan and mutter into your cunt like he’s unwilling to leave it for even a second.

“Fuck, yes. Say my name, sweetheart.” Who are you to deny him? You whisper, whine, and whimper his name with every thrust of his fingers, every lick of his tongue. It’s delicious. Every so often he swaps his mouth and hand, thrusting his tongue as deep inside you as he can while his fingers rub dangerous little circles on your clit. Whenever things get a little too filthy he laps his tongue across your entire cunt and along your inner thighs, cleaning up every stray drop. You don’t know how much longer you can last under such a complete and total assault. 

“S-Satoru, ‘m gonna-” He licks a thick stripe through your folds that makes your sentence end in a whine, his lips settling to suckle on your clit again.

God, it’s messy. It’s fucking disgusting. His whole chin is covered in spit and slick– and you love it. “Cum for me, baby,” he breathes. 

You don’t need to hear much more. You let the heat inside you release with a whine, thighs trembling on his shoulders. Your walls pulse and throb around his fingers, sucking him in and never wanting him to leave. His tongue continues to rub lazy circles around your clit, working you through your high and making it last so long you think you might pass out.

Warmth spreads from the top of your head to the tips of your toes and your muscles tense and clench with each pulsing throb. You swear to god you see fucking stars.

It seems to go on forever, leaving you limp and shaking when the last waves finally slip away. 

He presses a final kiss to your clit, one that makes your hips jolt from the overstimulation before he’s lifting himself up. “Wow. That looked like a big one,” he chuckles. He runs a soothing hand along your thigh and you don’t even have the energy to give him some sort of snarky reply. There’s hardly even a pause before something shifts in his eyes. “Let’s see if we can get one that’s even bigger, yeah?” 

Before you can even process what he’s said you feel strong hands slide under your thighs, pressing them tightly to your chest as he settles himself close to you

You grasp at the sheets, hearing the clinking of a belt buckle and then the familiar pitch of a zipper being undone. 

“Fuck,” you mutter. He’s big. Long and pretty and with a perfectly flushed tip. Your eyes are rolling back just thinking about having him inside you.

A strong hand smooths along your thighs, folding you in a way that feels more vulnerable and exposing than anything you’ve ever done before. He pauses for a beat, just staring down at you silently.

“Gorgeous,” he finally mutters, and something in your heart squeezes. His hand grips your hip firmly, holding you in place and you gasp when you feel him prodding at your entrance. It’s pathetic. You’re pathetic. Big bad assassin turned simpering little bitch over some good Gojo dick. 

“Just relaxxxxx, baby.” His hand rubs soothing little circles into your side and it’s so divinely distracting that it catches you by surprise when he starts pushing into you. You gasp and he only chuckles. Asshole. 

He’s big– really big – and the stretch is somehow both painful and perfect. You groan into the air, struggling to take him. Every inch feels like it must be the last, but then there’s more. Your walls clench around him on instinct, trying to force him out. 

“Fuck, baby. What did I say about relaxing?” You hiss when his hand skates down your tummy to rub messy circles on your clit. The relief is instant and you moan when you feel him slide in a little further. “There we go. Good girl.” 

He continues feeding his dick into you, inch by inch, until his hips finally press to yours and you think you can feel him in your fucking throat. You hear him exhale, like it’s a relief to finally be fully inside you, like he’s been waiting for ages. 

You expect him to not hold back, to let himself go and pound into you relentlessly, but he doesn’t. He only leans down closer to you, settling in when he starts a pace of slow, sensual thrusts. His brows pinch, his eyes hardened in concentration.

“Ah, fuck. You’re so tight.” 

You want to shoot something back at him, but you’re hardly remembering to breathe with how deep he’s sliding into you. Instead, you just end up holding him tighter, your eyes fluttering shut. 

Lips dust across your cheeks, just below your lashes. “Keep your eyes open, gorgeous. Wanna see you.” 

You blink, thinking that it’s a notion that feels a little too intimate for a hookup. Regardless, you do as he wants, opening your eyes and holding his gaze.

A smile splits his lips and he presses his forehead to yours, picking up the pace of his thrusts. It’s not long before the sound of skin on skin fills the room and you’re both panting. His breath skates across your skin, hot and heavy, hitching with the groans and whines that spill from his chest. You can’t help but pull him closer, raking your nails down his back hard enough to leave marks. The action makes him emit a noise you can only describe as a desperate whimper. “Fuck, baby. Yes.” 

His lips press to yours in a kiss that’s all desperation and teeth and tongue. You kiss him back with equal intensity, your body rocking with each heavy thrust. He’s pounding into you now, frantic for more, more, more of you. You want him to take it, take all of you. 

A familiar heat pinches in your stomach and you know it won’t be long before he’s pushing you to another release. His dick drags in and out of you, prodding at the gummy spot inside you with every thrust and brushing so deliciously against your cervix that you can’t stop the moans spilling from your lips. It has you seeing stars again, has you clawing at him and panting into his mouth. 

“Satoru… harder,” you breathe. You need more– more of everything, of him. 

He groans. “You got it, gorgeous.” 

His hips slam into you and it’s so perfect that you can’t help but whimper beneath him. It only gets worse when you feel his fingers on your clit again, hand pressed between your bodies. “Cum on my dick, baby.” Your eyes roll back, that coil inside you rolling tighter. You feel his muscles tensing and shaking above you and you know he’s close, too. “Where do you want it?” he asks, and from the pinched look on his face you can tell exactly where he wants it. You know you’re an idiot for feeling the same. 

“Inside,” you breathe. He groans so loudly it rattles in your ears.

“That’s my girl,” he says, but it’s nearly a whisper with how strained it is. His hand continues at your clit, rubbing perfect little circles that make your legs tremble where they’re pressed against your chest. Your jaw hangs open, but you don’t dare close your eyes. Satoru is still holding your gaze intently, desperately, like he needs to see you. The thought throws you over the edge.

You cry his name, clawing at his shoulder and shaking like a leaf as you feel yourself gush and pulse all over his dick. For the second time that evening you feel the heat inside you swell and burst, washing through you in waves that nearly consume you whole. It’s a struggle to hold his eyes, to not let them roll back into your skull and give into the pure ecstasy of your high– especially when he’s cumming, too. You can hear him moaning in your ear, feel him twitching inside you, feel his hot cum coating your walls and there’s just so fucking much of it. You swear he cums for a minute straight before he slumps down onto you, burying his face in your neck as you pant. 

You’re shaking and so is he, breaths heaving in and out. Reality slowly starts to seep back in, even with his dick still softening inside you and his cum leaking down your thighs. 

You tried to kill him. You failed. You had sex. Now what? Would he really let you go like he’d said he would? You wanted to believe it, but life hadn’t taught you to be that trusting. You should move, untangle yourself from him and escape before he has time to change his mind. 

“You assassins are always thinking so hard,” He mumbles into the curve of your neck. “Maybe you should try to relax for once.”

You swallow when you feel him pressing his lips to your throat, trailing up to your jaw. It’s… tender, gentle, and it feels so nice. You can’t help the way you melt into the touch a bit. You feel him smile into your skin. “There we go.”

His hand settles on your waist, rubbing soothing little circles that send a jolt of urgency up your spine. No. You’re enjoying this– being close to him, laying here with him, breathing him in. That’s not what this is supposed to be. 

You tense again, shifting to get away from him, but he only sighs and presses his weight onto you. 

“Come on, gorgeous. No need to leave so soon. Just stay for a bit, yeah?” He nibbles at your jaw, but it doesn’t work this time. You have to go. You’ve failed your mission. You don’t know what that means for your brother. You’d never thought this would have an ending besides your death. 

“I have to go,” you mutter, pushing at his chest. 

He chuckles, but you don’t miss the strain and… hurt? “Got something more important than trying to kill me?” 

You clench your teeth, trying once again to shove him away. “Yes, actually.” 

He finally pulls back to meet your gaze, brows slightly pinched. “Like what?” 

You push in earnest now, anger and panic rising in your gut. You have to go, have to check on your brother, have to figure out what you’re going to do. “That’s really none of your business,” you seethe. 

You go for another shove, but strong hands clasp around your wrists, pinning them to the bed. His expression has gone flat now, serious. “Actually, I think it’s completely my business. You going to report your failure? Should I expect another assassin soon?”

You scowl, tugging at his grasp and trying to free yourself. “Yeah, probably. He’s an insufferable idiot. I told him it wouldn’t work and it didn’t, but I don’t doubt he’ll send another.” 

His face cracks, his brows pulling together again. “If you knew it wouldn’t work then why’d you take the job?” 

You struggle again, less angry and more desperate now. “Because he’s got my fucking brother at gunpoint and I’ve got to figure out how the fuck I’m going to save him!” you shout.

There’s silence for a long moment– a long, uncomfortable beat of it– and then his expression softens into something… tender. It sends a chill up your spine. Satoru Gojo was never supposed to be tender with you, and that’s all he’s been. 

“I’ll save him,” he says. Your heart jumps and his grip on your wrists loosens, allowing you to slip free. 

“What?” you breathe. He sits back, allowing you to prop yourself up into a slightly less vulnerable position. 

He exhales slowly, but you don’t miss the way his hand settles on your bare thigh, a comforting weight. “I’ll save your brother and then I’ll take care of your boss.” A smirk creeps across his lips. “What? Don’t think I can do it?”

You stare blankly, lips parted. There’s no doubt he can do it, but that’s not the question swirling in your mind. 

“Why would you help me?” You’d tried to kill the man. You couldn’t make heads or tails of a reason why he’d go out of his way to help you. 

He chuckles. “Well, in case you didn’t know, I’m a hero of sorts.” You have to fight not to roll your eyes. “And… there’s something I want from you.” 

There it is– the catch. He wants something. You have no idea what you could possibly have to give him, but you’re willing for it to be just about anything. You narrow your eyes. “What?” 

He grins, but you can see the glint of mischief in his gaze. His hand slides further up your thigh, up your side, over your shoulder, until it rests at the nape of your neck and his face is only inches from your own. “What’s your number, gorgeous?”

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#bree’s fics #jjk #jjk x reader smut #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk smut #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojou x reader #satoru gojo #gojou satoru x y/n #jjk gojou #gojou satoru x you #satoru gojou #jujutsu kaisen gojo #jjk gojo #gojo x reader #jujutsu gojo #gojo smut #gojo saturo #jujustu kaisen #jujutsu satoru #jujutsu kaisen smut #gojou satoru #jujutsu kaisen #tw: organized crime #tw: attempted murder

[atyourmerci]

I hope your daddy doesn’t own a gun

Southern dbf!abby

Cw: smut, MDNI, dom!abby, subfem!reader, age gap (r! Is 20, abby is in her 30s), masturbation, phone sex if you squint and turn your head, lil sprinkle of degradation, fingering, voyerism, no y/n, no pdor

A/N: I hate this<3

They all saw you as a child, still just daddy’s little girl in your pigtails and bloomers. Even at twenty, after ditching the pigtails and swapping the bloomers with mini skirts that let your ass peak out, didn’t deter their perception of innocence.

Your father was a wealthy man, charismatic and giving that drew the people around him in. Most of his friends watched you grow from childhood, through the ugly duckling phase, all the boyfriends, and growth of your now womanly figure. Not that they noticed. Not that you cared- other than her, Abigail, your father’s best friend from college. Abigail went on to work at your father’s company after college and frequented your life from birth.

You couldn’t recall when it shifted, when she went from your father’s best friend to a toy dangled in front of your face, so close yet unattainable. Clean cut, dressed in button ups, khakis, the cowboy boots that peaked through the bottom of them. Her hair neatly tied in a braid.

The only time you’d seen it down was when your dad held a backyard rager you snuck out to watch. Most of the party had dissipated late into the night, but you had spotted Abby and one of the receptionists in your pool. You watched as the pretty receptionist lazily dragged the strands out with her fingers as Abigail worked her mouth around her chest.

Thats when the heat in your chest began for her, watching her control. Seeing how she could have anything she wanted. You wanted her to desire you, need you so badly shed take you there, even with the risk of wondering eyes.

-

This night ended as they all did. At the end of the night you’d get sent to your room so they could smoke cigars and speak of vulgarities that you now were more than aware of. For fucks sake you were in college now, getting tossed around by pitiful girls that still couldn’t make you come. Abby would, you knew it.

You’d touch yourself at night to the thought of her for the past couple of years, she’d know how to take care of your needy cunt. You’d think of yourself in the pool that night, how your fingers would dance through her hair. The scent of musky pine still overwhelming your senses even though her skin was bleached of pool water. How her fingers would feel deep inside you, her hand covering your mouth to quiet you.

Your father would kill her.

“Alright hun, why don’t you head to bed,” your father says after a fit of laughter. Everyone continues the comfort, your eyes dart to Abby, who seems to be the only one privy to your father’s prompt.

“Dad don’t you think i’m too old for that now,” you try not to get defensive but it comes out bitchy. He gives you that stern glare, the ‘don’t make me ask you again’ look and you glance back at Abigail who gives you a pitied pout, “be a good girl, listen to your father.”

You huff out, making a scene and storming off. Slamming your bedroom door behind you, infuriated. Pissed at your father for treating you like a child still, pissed at Abigail for backing him up. Pissed that she looked so good tonight, the way she put her hand on your lower back to pass you, whispering a ‘xcuse’ me darlin’. Maybe it was her goal to work you up just to leave you helpless and begging.

Your window has a shot of the backyard, all your father’s friends laughing over cigars and bourbon. Pissed how she called you a good girl, right in front of your father, everyone, knowing the effect it would have on you.

She wanted to tease you, work you up in front of everyone? Then they should all watch what she did, a careless act on both ends.

Throwing yourself on your warm sheets, pulling up your sundress to reveal your bare cunt. Driving your head back into the sheets as your fingers work at the pulsing flesh, so tense from the slow incline Abby had you on all day. Your fingers slid so easily through your folds, pearly white slick coating your harsh fingers.

Your breath panting and eager, so ready to revel in your own pleasure after being ripped from it. You’re already close, feeling your stomach tighten in anticipation as you feel your phone buzz at your side. ‘Abigail Anderson’ illuminates your face, without giving yourself a chance to catch your breath you answer.

“Don’t you dare think of coming,” Abby says sternly. Your face flushes, fuck. You peer your weary eyes at the window next to your body, Abby stands a couple feet away from the men, staring dead at you through the glass.

“Wha-“ you pant out, staring dumbly at the woman that never gave you this extent of her control. Your head drops back down onto your pillow, too embarrassed to admit your shameful actions.

“I didnt tell you to stop, did I sweetheart?” Abby says with smugness in her tone.

“N- no ma’am,” giving into her so easily, running your hand down your body to meet back at your sopping cunt that buzzes at her words. “Good girl… you like that, don’t you?” She says doubling down- so fucking sure of her power over you, your mind, your cunt.

“Yes Abby- yes! please Im so close,” you bite down on your lip for relief, your hole clenches over nothing, fingers eagerly tracing circles around your swollen bud. Any moment you’d break, heels digging into your frilly sheets as your chest soaks with sweat. You hear the line go flat on your phone.

You were too fucked to stop, you were going to let yourself have this. Gripping into the sheets you prepare yourself, legs shaking as your door swings open to Abigail. Your legs wide open for her eyes to feast on, she takes a moment to gawk at the sight before locking the door behind her.

She walks over to the head of your bed, unbuttoning her shirt as she watches you drive lazy motions over your clit. She discards her shirt to the side, revealing her bare chest. Climbing so slowly up to you she places her hand on your sloppy cunt, cupping it as her other hand covers your mouth, “Don’t make a sound and I’ll let you come.”

Wild eyed you nod your head, letting her run her thick fingers down the slit of your cunt to collect your release. The smell of pine thick in the air, the sound of her fingers dragging in and out of you the only peep to be heard.

“you think about this all the time don’t you darlin? Turned into a nasty little girl, didn’t ya.” Abby begins to pick up her pace, fingers sliding in so easily. Your eyes roll back, mind going numb.

“Tight little cunt you got, swallowing my fucking fingers,” you try not to scream out, but her unrelenting pace at your hole was getting to be too much. The feeling of spilling over hitting you once again. Your screams are muffled by her meaty hands, but she can feel your pulse around her.

“You gonna come baby?” Abby coos, looking at you pitied and cruel. You shake what motion you still had left in your head.

“Be quiet so your daddy doesn’t hear what a whore his little girl is,” she laughs at how pathetic you are, all from just her fingers.

like that you’re set off, squirming under her heat as she fucks your pussy through it, watching you opened mouth panting as your head pushes into your plush pillows. Biting into the flesh of her palm cant block off the guttural scream you let out. She pushes down harder at your mouth but only pushes her fingers deeper. Every last drop she was going to get out of you.

Thats when you hear the ring of a jiggle on your locked doorknob.

#abby anderson #the last of us #abby anderson smut #abby x reader #abby tlou #abby anderson tlou2 #abby angst #abby the last of us #maddarants #abby x fem!reader #abby tlou2 #abby x you #abby smut #dom abby anderson #abby anderson x you #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson fanfiction #abby anderson fanfic #abby anderson x reader #abigail anderson #tlou x reader #tlou smut #tlou2 #tlou

[nariism]

you're mad at him.

you're mad at him and he knows it. you've been giving wriothesley the silent treatment ever since you arrived at the fortress of meropide, bandages in hand and a flurry of curses erupting nonstop from your mouth.

not a single word has been uttered between you since you sat him down in his office. despite refusing to speak to him, much less look him in the eye, you're dutifully bandaging up his raw knuckles like you remember sigewinne showing you back when she decided to go on vacation.

"it's very easy," her voice rings in your ears. you bite your tongue to prevent yourself from snarking back at her imaginary presence.

you only hoped she was enjoying herself up on the surface, accompanying neuvillette for the first time in ages. while she absolutely did deserve a vacation, you wished that she had given wriothesley a stern set of instructions to take care of himself in her absence.

if she did, maybe you wouldn't have had to come all the way down here just to witness him in such a state. your poor heart can't take this kind of worry.

the warden has come out the pankration the most unscathed, only sporting a split lip and bloody nose. his knuckles are red and cut, but it's nothing in comparison to the two inmates who had decided it was a good idea to incite a riot in what should be a controlled environment of the prison.

physically, he's fine. emotionally, he's having a complete meltdown.

he can't take this silence anymore; can't bear having you be upset with him, knowing that he should have been more careful about rushing in to stop the riot himself. the prison is crawling with guards for a reason, yet in his haste he decided it would be faster to intervene alone.

"hey," wriothesley calls out softly, timid despite his looming presence over you. "i didn't mean to worry you or–"

"why can't you be more careful?" you suddenly interrupt, voice cracking weakly. you gaze up from where you're kneeling on the floor, bandages halting in the air while you challenge him with your eyes. "don't you know how stupid and reckless that was?"

he holds your stare for a few moments, stunned by your sudden rebuttal. and then you tear your eyes away from his again, focusing back on tenderly wrapping up his hand.

"you always make me so worried staying down here day and night," you continue, voice so quiet he can barely make out your words.

"i'm sorry," he tells you earnestly.

"i know you're strong. i know it. but you're not invincible. would it kill you to cherish your life a little more?"

"i'm sorry," he says again.

you falter, a sigh escaping you as you peer up at him again. there's something softer in the way you look at him now, with all your frustration melting away into concern. you rummage through your bag for a wet wipe before standing to cradle his face.

wriothesley can't breathe when you're being so gentle with him. his hands find your waist and squeeze it to draw you even closer, until he can almost rest his head against your stomach.

"i love you," you finally tell him, and he feels the relief wash over him. "i can't stand seeing you hurt, so please be more careful."

you swipe the cloth under his nose a few times, gently dabbing at the skin and cleaning up the blood that has dried there. his steely eyes drift shut under your warm touch, allowing you to clean his face. when he only nods in response, your hand stops.

"promise me."

he looks at you again, a brow raised at your stern tone. but he would always relent to you, no matter what it is you wanted.

"i promise."

you blink down at him for a second, taking in how beautiful he is underneath his bloody nose. finally, you lean down to kiss the top of his head— a gesture of forgiveness and love that he's grown so accustomed to.

there's sunshine in your smile when you pull away from him to discard the used wipe, all previous signs of anguish gone from your expression.

his heart nearly stops at the sight.

you were right. he should cherish himself more. he can't stand seeing you fret over him even if it is a little endearing.

for now, he'll just enjoy having you take care of him. it's been so long since he returned to the surface, all he wants to do right now is bask in the light you bring down here with you.

"oh nurse," he teases, giving your hips another squeeze. "my lip got busted, too. got a remedy?"

you roll your eyes but press a kiss to his lips anyways.

© ALABOADOA 2023 — please do not translate or post my works to other platforms.

#— whispers in the wind ✧ #wrio 'my partner is mad at me i don't deserve to breathe' thesley #genshin impact #genshin #genshin impact drabbles #genshin drabbles #genshin impact x gn reader #genshin impact x gender neutral reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin x gn reader #genshin x gender neutral reader #wriothesley #wriothesley genshin #wriothesley x you #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley x y/n #wriothesley x gn reader #wriothesley x gender neutral reader #genshin impact fic #genshin fic

[moonstruckme]

Flirtation

summary: when Sirius won't stop tormenting you with pet names, you think to take revenge, but he doesn't react as you expected

Sirius Black x shy!reader ♡ 546 words

You jolt a little when a hand lands on your shoulder, a second before Sirius plops down beside you in the common room. 

“Sorry, dollface,” he says, sliding his hand from your shoulder to your neck in what you suppose is meant to be a soothing motion. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

You smile, though your heart only beats faster now that you know it’s him. “You didn’t scare me.” 

“No?” He asks, and there’s that unrelenting teasing tone in his voice. “Does my beauty just shock you every time you see me, then?”

You flush, looking to where your fingers play with the hem of your skirt. Sirius knows he can turn you into a stammering, blushing mess with only a pet name or a tilt of his lips, and he never lets you forget it. It doesn’t matter how long you’ve been dating or how much time you spend with him, you never get used to his audacity. 

“Doing alright, sweet thing?” he croons, taking your face in both hands so you have no choice but to meet his eyes. They’re alight with mirth. 

“Mhm.”

“You sure?”

“Yep.” 

“You’re blushing.” 

“I’m not.” 

“You are.” He makes an indent in your overwarm cheek with his thumb, looking entirely too entertained at your misery. And it feels unfair. Why should he be able to fluster you whenever he likes, and you can’t even bring yourself to look him in the eyes? “I know I’m a lot to take in, but really, sweetheart.” 

You force yourself to do it, before the boldness has a chance to leave you. “Sorry, baby,” you say, forcing yourself to look deep into Sirius’ cool gray eyes, “I can’t help but be nervous when you’re looking at me so prettily.” 

You relish for a moment in victory as Sirius’ eyes go wide, but then his mouth drops open and he melts. 

“What did you just call me?” he breathes.

Your confidence has exceeded its time limit. You cringe in on yourself, but Sirius catches your hands before you can use them to cover your face. 

“C’mon,” he says, in that soft voice that he almost never uses in public, the one that makes you want to curl up in his lap and tell him all your secrets, “please?”

You glance around, but no one is paying attention to the two of you. “Pretty.” It’s a whisper, but Sirius beams all the same. 

“And?” 

You slouch shamefully, sinking into the couch cushions. “Baby?” 

Sirius throws himself back like you’ve shoved him, grinning like a lunatic. He comes back to you quickly, and there’s pure, unadulterated adoration in his eyes when he says, “You’re killing me, dollface. Say it again.” 

You sigh, but indulge him. “Baby.” 

He clasps your hand between his, pulling it to his chest theatrically. “Yeah, sweetness? Whatever you want, you can have it.”

You’re trying to be exasperated with him, but you’re laughing. “Siri, stop, please.” 

He pouts. “If that’s what you want. But if you ever decide you really want something from me, just say the word, angel, and I’ll do it.” 

“Sure thing, pretty boy,” you say quietly, emboldened by his behavior, and this time, when Sirius flops back dramatically on the couch, he takes you with him.

#sirius black #sirius black x reader #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black fanfic #sirius black fic #sirius black oneshot #sirius black baby blurb #sirius black imagine #sirius black x fem!reader #sirius black x y/n #sirius black x you #sirius black drabble #sirius black scenario #marauders #the marauders #marauders fanfiction #marauders era

[fillinforlater]

Eleven to One: Smart Submission

Male Reader x Kim Minju, Kim Chaewon

Length: 3196 words

Tags: Daddy kink, sensual blowjob, stand and carry, sex against the wall, making out, Breeding kink, Breeding talk, rough sex, hate sex, degradation, cursing riding, cowgirl, doggy, spanking, anal, anal doggy, sex toys, obedient!Minju, obedient?Chaewon

TW: the usual for this series, rough sex, degradation, cursing at idols, extreme Daddy kink

Inspiration: Chaewon's Smart fancams, Minju's Sequence fancams

(A/N: Fuck, it's been a while. I lost a bunch of progress and had to pivot, hope you like this though. More fics coming up, hopefully deep into April. Can't promise anything for May though. It's gonna be a stressful time.)

“I’ll be there as soon as I can. I need you, Daddy.” Send by Yujin

You put down your phone with a smile of satisfaction and excitement. It’s a rather odd mix of emotions; there should not be satisfaction when the excitement still makes you yearn for something, but at the same time, it's this yearning that makes you feel at ease. 

Yujin is on your phone, countless pictures of her incredible stage outfit which you will have to tear off her body again, not caring about the costs or the annoyed company staff. Yujin is also on the hotel room TV in the form of fancams. You put on a playlist to kill some time before the evening can begin and seeing her look so confident, thrilled and sexy has you bothered and ready.

“Oh, so that’s why I heard Kitsch on repeat.” You turn your head towards the bathroom door of this, for your standards, humble yet cozy hotel room. Minju has just walked out, a cloud of steam still behind her, a rather loose towel around her body as she dries her hair. “Our daeng-daeng is really pretty.”

“That’s true, very true,” you say with a sigh and look back at the TV where Yujin’s charisma jumps at you in the form of a wink. Suddenly, Minju’s hands are at your shoulders, rubbing, going down to your chest and rubbing a bit more.

“Minmin knows what Daddy is thinking.” She did not need to sound that sultry and tempting. A moment where her cuteness and klutziness is gone and Minju becomes a vixen, comparable to Yujin, maybe Eunbi. She learned from watching them, her admiration has let her to now drop the adorable person you so love about her—luckily, she also drops her towel, so you cannot complain about her boldness.

“So what am I thinking about, Minju?” Play hard to get, because that’s exactly what you’re going to teach her: no matter how hot or irresistible she may seem, you can be absolutely out of reach. It is after all always up to you.

“Daddy always thinks about sex.” Minju walks over, kneels on the couch and bends down towards your crotch, never breaking eye contact. A strain of wet hair tucked behind her ear, she whispers. “Daddy is always hard, especially because of Yujinnie~”

“Go check for yourself,” you challenge her and unzip your jeans (been a while since you wore something this leisurely). Minju eagerly gets them down until she expects your hard shaft to spring out and hit her cheek, but to her surprise, you are not hard. 

“Wow, Daddy is this big even now~”

“You want to suck it?” More of an observation than a question as Minju’s lips already approach your tip.

“Can Minmin suck it, kiss it, put it in her mouth?”

“Go ahead, I’ll give you a reward if you get me hard.” She is too cute again. A nod and she is eager to give your cock all the kisses. Of course she starts off with the head, makes sure to run her tongue past her lips and along your slit, then she moves down the underside while resting it on her face. Minju’s dedication to worshiping her favorite cock is unmatched, her hums and moans spread in between all the licks and kisses sound like impure devotion. 

You put a hand in her messy hazelnut strands and gently comb through them. In the background yet another fancam concludes with Yujin oozing all her stage presence and sex appeal into the camera. You turn down the volume to hear Minju’s blowjob better, but the visual distraction stays. Now it’s a Minju fancam, Sequence, legendary. The former idol tilts her head when she notices it while simultaneously taking your inches down her throat. Amazing bliss, you twitch.

“You looked very hot back then, so fucking tight,” you groan. “Unbelievable that you’re even sexier now.”

“It’s all because of Daddy and Yujin—you never stop and I have to keep up. It’s endless training, every day. Maybe this is eternal youth.” She bops her head up and down and you don’t know if she really said those words. Too much wisdom for someone who is back at your balls with her lips while she gags around the stiffening snake. Give her hips a good squeeze to check if it’s still the same Minju—yup, no doubt. 

“Your hips were so wide back then, but I think they have grown more since you moved in.” You give her a congratulatory smack and Minju giggles around your length. She looks divine with one hand on your base and every part of your face magnetically drawn to where she wants to get your baby batter out. Though you never relinquished control, she still has you in a semi-hard state and your mind in the depths of impurity. “Get up.”

“O-okay, Daddy.” Minju does as told and you marvel at her nude body for a second.

“That was brilliant, don’t get me wrong,” you tell her and reach for her curvy, milky, freshly cleaned thighs. “But I want something else wrapped around me.”

As if she can read your mind, Minju jumps up and her arms and legs embrace your upper body. All you need to do is carry her on her petite ass cheeks which fill out your hands nicely. The miniscule weight of hers is easily lifted so you two are face to face. Before your lips connect, you quickly get hold of your dick and press it against her moist folds. Moist is an understatement: Minju is drenched in excitement and takes you easily.

“Oh God,” Minju moans and her eyes disappear for a moment in the back of her head where you know is nothing but the endless feeling of joy your cock brings her. A few thrusts and she will be mindless, the dumb, breedable klutz she so often seems to be. Her legs choke your hips against hers and soon after, you two engage in a kiss that sets you on fire.

Upwards is the way, the hardest way, the best way. Minju is split open time and time again, her whole body enthusiastically shaking on every impact or at the mere prospect of another. Whenever you’re not tongue fucking her mouth, the fucking of her cunt leaves her breathless, whiny, and groaning like a madman. She is mad, crazy for you and with the intoxicating smell of her shampoo, her sweat, her sex, you’re going crazy as well.

“Fuck, Minju, you’re pussy is so warm,” you mumble and stumble forward. You press Minju against the wall next to the TV where you both listen to her verse from Panorama with the sound of loud skin slapping against skin being an obnoxious, yet welcome interruption. Minju’s hands have left your nape and start to crawl up the wall as if she tries to get higher. She wants to crash down harder on your cock, wants you to go rougher, her end is nye. The constant hits against her cervix bring one thought to the forefront—and it is not the potential people on the other side of the wall who are surely enraged.

“One day,” you whisper, leaning into Minju’s ear, covered by ruined hair that she has to wash again tonight. “I’m going to cum inside your pussy without protection.” Minju gasps, almost at her peak. You slam her back hard against the wall, fingers tearing at the skin of her ass. “I will breed you, over and over again, and we will have many beautiful children. Minju, you will be bred, pregnant all the time, so I want you to love this.”

A chaotic thrust up, against every inhibition she might have, past the final strings that hold together her sanity, her reasoning. Minju orgasms with a booming scream and her cunt does everything in its power to suck the fertile batter out of you. The seed you promised, she needs it at this very moment. Only a quick pullout can save you, Minju’s power and will to be bred leaving you stunned. 

She takes deep breaths in your arms as you carry her back to the couch, her eyes sparkle though you cannot make out if it is because of happiness or disappointment. “Why did Daddy pull out? We need to train, Minmin needs to be filled many, many times.”

“Sorry, but not tonight.” You free her forehead of her hair, some of which looks like it exploded all over her face. “I promised someone else my biggest load of today. We have to wait for her though—”

Suddenly, as if you spoke a spell to summon someone, a knock can be heard. 

“Come on in!” you shout, but all you hear is a disgusted shriek. Well, it’s certainly not Yujin nor any of your other usual guests. It’s someone that is on the fringes though, not ready to admit that she is addicted to you. The thrill brings her back, the pleasure will make her stay, but for now it’s this excuse that makes her wait for you to open the door.

“Ugh, you—wait, the fuck, put on some clothes!”

“Why don’t you get rid of yours, Chaewon,” you quickly respond and just as swiftly pull her into the hotel room. Chaewon is wrapped in a basic yet effective outfit to hide her identity. A large black overcoat, sunglasses, a mask, basic sweatpants. With a groan she reveals the excitement that is below them: a stage outfit from her recent comeback stages, along with a surprising lack of pants and most exciting of all: golden blonde hair. 

“Don’t stare at me you perv,” Chaewon barks and folds her arms in front of her chest. You notice her gaze dropping down to your cock again and you wish she would just drop to her knees and clean Minju’s nectar off of you (she would in a heartbeat if you told her about why it’s glistening like that), but you instead walk back over to Minju and lean down to kiss her. “What do you thi—Mi-Minju, you’re here?!”

“Oh, Chaewon-unnie, I’m always with Daddy, don’t you know?”

“B-but you could also stay somewhere else, like, like with your parents or with m-me…”

“Yeah, Minju,” you add cynically, only focused on the loyal girl below you clinging to your lips and your back. You make your way down her cheek, her jaw to her neck. “You could stay in the LE SSERAFIM dorm with Chaewon, so why are you still here?”

“Minmin wants to stay with Daddy! Minmin needs to be ready for when the time is right.”

Chaewon raises an eyebrow as sweat pours down her face. Her thighs are awfully close to one another, rubbing, her core is in heat as she watches Minju melt under your tongue. The ‘fearless’ group leader does not need to ask, because Minju spills the beans when you push her further down into the couch.

“Daddy, I need to be around Daddy when he wants to breed me, make me a pregnant woman, I don’t want to miss it.”

“That’s fucking enough!”

The stinging pain of your hair getting pulled makes you hiss almost triumphantly. Chaewon has been set off again and she drags you away from Minju’s delicious body and positions her own on top of you. A short, half-hearted wrestle later and she sits on your crotch, the panties below her colorful outfit already caressing your tip. One of her hands is still in your hair, the other pushes your chest against the back of the couch. She is livid.

“Oh, so you want to fight for her again.”

“Shut up.”

“You know that you failed miserably the last time, right? There is no reason to believe that you’ve gotten any better at making me—”

“Shut up!”

“You tiny thing, you’re talking big game for so—”

“Shut the fuck up!” Chaewon pulls her panties to the side, you reach for her hips and get a good hold onto them. “I’ll make you shut up, you perverted bastard!”

Chaewon sinks down on your cock and not only do you notice the wetness all over her pussy walls, you also find that she is needy for this cock. A ripple of satisfaction roams her body and in a moment of carelessness, Chaewon tilts her head back. You know that she is just enjoying the feeling and could take advantage of that. Instead, you have another taunt lined up for her.

“Oh no, I can already feel my mouth being sealed. I can barely speak.”

“Soon enough,” Chaewon groans and starts to gyrate her hips. Unlike the first time she challenged you over Minju, Chaewon feels significantly better. Wetness, tightness, texture—you can’t yet pinpoint why or how, but it has definitely improved. However, with Chaewon so cock-drunk and unable to slam herself down, this is a laughable effort. A pathetic little hop here, a loose hand on your neck, undeniable desire to be fucked in her eyes—Chaewon’s body is already admitting it.

“Hm, I love it… wh-when your quiet,” she moans, tries to search the submission in your gaze. A futile effort and you expose her with both hands on her back. “What are you doing?”

“Chaewon, you’re embarrassing. To think this would get me close—” Without warning, you tear her outfit apart. A tilt of your head and Minju helps out and gets Chaewon out of the mess of tatters you leave. Chaewon looks confused, also helpless and when you spank her ass, she knows she has to move to the stage of acceptance fast. “Let me show you how to break someone.”

“Wait, I—” 

She falls apart in your lap. Really, it’s only a few harsh thrusts, and Chaewon hits your chest. She is a ragdoll that can whine and moan but otherwise is only a sextoy you have to move on your own. Both feet firmly on the ground, you push all your energy in those lower muscles to repeat this motion of rough fucking endlessly. Chaewon should feel that your power never runs out, that you can fuck her as hard and as much as you want. 

“You dumb cumdump!” Smack her ass again, then grab her long strands of gold-colored hair. “Your body knows it, your mind might too—now I need your silly mouth to admit it.”

Chaewon moans and her moan reaches a new pitch when you pull apart her asscheeks to pick her up and drop her down on your shaft. She is coating your crotch with her horny juice, drools over your chest, sweats on the hotel room couch. Chaewon is a dirty girl, so you will sully her more; more accurately, you will show her dirtiness to her beloved Minju. 

“Kneel on the couch, slut! Show me your ass.” Little resistance only. You quickly get behind her, adjust her towards Minju and rub your cock against her asshole. “Look at her. Can you even focus your blurry eyes on her?”

“I-I can…”

“Really?” Push your tip against her hole and feel her flinch in your arms. If she’d really want to, she could flee or at least fight back. Needless to say, she does not. “At least resist me, because your ass doesn’t. Just a bit of force—”

“Oh God!”

“—and I’m inside.” 

You grab Chaewon’s tits and treat these soft hills very not-softly. Your thumb and index pinch her nipples, the groping is hard, though nothing compared to the ass fucking she receives. Her anal cavity, which should be incredibly tight, gapes for you easily. 

Apart from groans, screams and the occasional expletive, Chaewon does not speak anymore. She must know that the next thing she says will betray her fundamentals, oh, those silly fundamentals: never giving up, always fighting for Minju, beating you after becoming better. Now, she is another one of your sluts, who bends over for you, spreads her ass for you and produces silly sounds from all her openings.

“The decision is so easy.

“You don’t make it look easy.

“You’re not smart, Chaewon.

“Stop resisting me.

“Say it.”

Suddenly, Chaewon is trapped between you and Minju. She could rest her head on the younger girl’s bosom, but she does not dare to. The thought of failure and losing this battle so decisively leaves her shattered. This state does not last for long however, as she sees how happy Minju’s eyes glisten in the warm light of the hotel room. It’s fine to lose, it’s good to lose.

“I-I’m yours, Daddy.”

“Do you fucking mean it, whore?”

“Yes, Daddy. I’m your s-slutty whore.”

“Fantastic. Minju, bring me the bag of those from the bedroom. We need to celebrate that Chaewon is finally honest with herself.”

You move back to your original position with Chaewon on your lap, cock still balls deep in her asshole. She sniffles a bit, hisses when you nibble at her neck and play with all three of her sensitive nubs quickly. A new toy must be checked properly and this is definitely something that you can work with later. Minju returns with the bag and you reach into it. 

“Your ass is already pretty wide, so this should fit.” You pull out a large, shiny butt plug with a diamond that will decorate her sore butt cheeks perfectly. “Make sure to keep yourself spread when I pull out.”

“Yes, Daddy.”

You slowly drag your cock out. Instead of immediately filling her hole, you instead inspect how it gapes wide, then clenches around nothing. Chaewon shivers on your lap. You order Minju to check it out as well, which almost makes Chaewon cry from embarrassment. 

“No need to feel ashamed,” you laugh. “I think Minju likes it as much as I do.”

“It looks very hot, Unnie, I think Daddy can fuck it many times.”

“D-don’t say it like that,” Chaewon faintly whispers. You push the butt plug inside her and feel her breathe a sigh of relief when she doesn’t have to show herself off anymore. The three of you get up from the couch.

“Minju, make sure to securely tie your friends arms, while I get this ready.” This is a see through dildo, almost as big as your cock and still very much dry. To get it well-lubricated for Chaewon’s pussy, you shove it into her mouth and make sure she has to deepthroat it. Chaewon might have dodged you if it weren’t for Minju, who has tied ropes around her wrists and lower arms. Only when tears leave her eyes, you pull the dildo out and place it on the small living room table in front of the couch. 

“Sit down on it, but don’t move. No fucking yourself. This will be your first real punishment.” Before Chaewon can protest (or maybe she opened her mouth to accept it and praise you) you force a ball gag into her mouth and watch her shout inaudible things as her pussy is split open again. 

“Now, you can watch Minju and I make out until the next person—”

A knock on the hotel room door, again. 

“Speak of the devil.”

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