#UP if you ever end up seeing this I hope you're doing well!
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The Doll House | Lee Heeseung
doll!heeseung x fem!reader
warnings: smut (mdni), pure filth, dom!hee, unprotected sex, cream pie, oral (m&f. rec), clit biting, throat fucking, cock worshipping, doggy, pussy stepping, spanking, squirting, slight degradation and choking, pet names (baby), supernatural elements, religious themes (heaven/hell), anything else lmk!
wc: 16.8k
synopsis: with only 2 weeks left, you have formed a bond with each of the dolls, well, all of them except heeseung. as you snoop around his room to find out more about him, he gives you all the answers you're looking for and opens your eyes to a world you never knew was possible.
jongseong | masterlist |
a/n: hi! it's officially the end of tdh! i need to put a massive thank you out to @haechonly as this entire series would never have been possible without their request! you are a star in my eyes and i can't ever thank you enough for trusting me to write this! i also want to thank everyone who took the time to read each chapter and leave comments or asks, i love you indefinitely <3 i hope the ending leaves you all satisfied and all your questions answered! as always, likes, reblogs, feeback, and everything in between is welcomed :)
Folding the laundry, you glance over at the calendar on the day of your leave circled in red. There are only 2 weeks left until you finish up and you’re more than sad about it. Your heart aches every time you sleep because you know that you’re one day closer to returning to normality when you wake up.
The thought alone is overwhelming - how can you possibly contemplate returning to a life you loathe when you've uncovered a paradise here? In the company of Jaeyun, Sunghoon, and Jongseong, each fulfilling a unique role in your existence, you've found a sense of completeness that you fear will escape you once you leave.
You're so fond of the dolls that you're willing to overlook the horrifying underworld that lurks in the library's secret room. You’ve learned that if you pay it no mind, it can’t touch you. Jongseong has reassured you time and time again that you need not worry about it, and you trust him, so you faithfully follow his guidance.
Jongseong has hardly explained anything, only that yes it was hell that lives in the flames but it’s more like a telephone than a portal - a cryptic analogy that only serves to fuel your curiosity - but he just keeps repeating himself time and time again: “Talk to Heeseung.”
Which would be fine if the doll ever gave you the time of day. He knows you know about them now so there’s no reason for him not to speak with you, yet he hardly utters a word, not even a simple thank you when you serve him dinner or excuse me when he bumps into you. He’s not avoiding you but ignoring you and for some reason that makes it worse. All you get from Heeseung is knowing stares and a sly smile plastered on his face.
You know he’s dangerous, Jongseong and Sunghoon are good at making you very aware of that, even his aura is enough to know that you shouldn’t mess with him, but their warnings about his inherent danger reverberate in your head, their evident readiness to give you to his care and seek answers calls into question his malevolence.
Jongseong said he doesn’t want to see your face when you find out, making you even more curious and it cannot be curbed until you get answers.
Grabbing the washing basket, you put the neatly folded clothes inside and make your way to drop them off outside each of the respective dolls’ rooms. They are off doing their own thing, even Jaeyun, who is typically tethered to your side, is engrossed in playing football with Jongseong, seemingly oblivious to your brief departure.
There was something Jongseong said to you over the past week that you can’t shake out of your head. He observed how close you and Jaeyun are, and how attached the younger doll has become to you. It’s not so much the observation as much as how he eyes the both of you now; there’s a knowingness in his pupils, like he’s keeping another secret from you, but you can’t figure out what.
It’s obvious you and Jaeyun get along well, each of you loving to spend time with one another and waste the day away; as long as you’re together, that’s all that matters. You confided in Jongseong, telling him that whatever Jaeyun is feeling, whether happy or sorrowful, you feel it too. It's a connection so profound that only those who have experienced it firsthand can comprehend its depth.
Regret gnaws at you for telling Jongseong, for since then, his scrutiny has only intensified, leaving you to wonder what his meaningful gaze truly means.
You head towards Heeseung's room, initially planning to leave his clothes outside as per the rulebook. However, your rebellious streak, which has persisted almost since you got here, urges you otherwise. The last time you saw Heeseung was in the music room, practising the piano, so he isn’t around, leaving you the perfect opportunity to snoop.
If he isn’t giving you answers, maybe his room will.
Placing the basket on your hip, you open his door tentatively, scared to see what is on the other side. You’ve been in his room before but now that you’re delving into its nooks and crannies, you can’t help but feel some apprehension. This is new territory and with warnings about his character, you know if you’re caught, you are fucked.
His room is dull, his curtains remaining shut despite the summer weather outside. Come to think of it, you haven’t ever seen him sit out the front with the others, only ever being in their presence when he has to be. Sunghoon and Heeseung have a camaraderie, their personalities are woven from the same cloth, so you know they are close in some way. You’ve seen them sharing secrets and memories of their past but it’s always in hushed whispers, not letting anyone in on their fun.
Yet, when it comes to Jongseong, a noticeable distance lingers between them. Though their interactions remain civil, their friendship feels distant. Despite this, Jongseong's occasional defence of Heeseung hints at an underlying care between them, though you can't help but feel that there's more to their dynamic than meets the eye. You have enough mysteries in this house other than feuding brothers, so you’ve not given it much thought.
You set the basket down on the ottoman nestled at the foot of his bed, casting a quick glance around the room to assess your surroundings before delving into your impromptu snoop sesh.
Your gaze drifts to his dressing table, its surface gathering dust and bereft of any adornments. It's a stark contrast to the other dolls' rooms, each of them cluttered with their interests and personalities. With a curious tilt of your head, you step closer, it's as if Heeseung deliberately keeps his space devoid of any semblance of identity or sentimentality. The only thing adorning the furniture is a scatter of dead flies that you turn your nose up to.
Jongseong had said Heeseung had been here for 8 years, surely that would warrant some decoration; even one book would be enough.
As your exploration continues, you come across a worn and torn box tucked away in the corner of the room. Kneeling down, you run your fingers over it, noticing how it’s the only thing devoid of dust in the room. Curiosity piqued, you carefully lift the lid, revealing a trove of forgotten treasures within.
Among the assortment of photographs, you come across snapshots capturing moments between Soonyeol and Heeseung. There is one photo of Soonyeol and Heeseung which she clearly forced him to be in, her cheek pressed hard against his and a smile on her face. Although it is a picture, you can feel her love for him emanating.
Setting aside the photograph with care, your attention is drawn to another picture, this time commemorating Soonyeol's birthday. The scene is more recent, with Jaeyun's radiant smile serving as a focal point. His embrace of the birthday girl evokes a pang of envy within you, swiftly tempered by the reminder that he belongs to Soonyeol.
"Hmm, she’s 28," you remark, noting the candles donning the birthday cake in the photograph. You could have sworn she was the same age as you; maybe it’s her skincare cupboard you should be raiding through.
Nestled among the keepsakes is a handwritten note, its edges yellowed with age. As you unfold it, the scrawl of Soonyeol's handwriting greets your eyes. The heartfelt words penned on the paper speak of cherished moments and promises of eternal love for Heeseung, her words of gratitude for saving her.
You can't help but wonder what drove Heeseung to save Soonyeol. If Heeseung is indeed this elusive big bad wolf, it begs the question: why would he ever come to someone's rescue?
"What are you doing?" A low voice reverberates through the cold walls, jolting you from your exploration. Startled, you scramble to restore everything to its place, your heart pounding with fear as you hastily rise to your feet, meeting Heeseung's gaze with wide-eyed apprehension.
Heeseung stands before you, arms crossed and a frown etched across his features. His expression speaks volumes, conveying a mix of irritation and suspicion at your intrusion into his private space. You can't fault him for his reaction; after all, he just caught you looking through his personal belongings that clearly no one but him is meant to see.
Hurriedly, you retreat to the safety of the laundry basket, clutching it as if it were a shield against his disapproval, "Sorry, Heeseung," you stammer, offering a feeble explanation for your presence, "I-I was just putting your laundry away."
Heeseung's gaze remains fixed on you, his expression unreadable as he assesses your explanation. The silence between you stretches taut, punctuated only by the distant hum of the house.
After what feels like an eternity, Heeseung finally speaks, his voice cool and measured, "You know the rules, Y/N, leave it outside," he admonishes, his tone firm.
"Sorry, Heeseung," you murmur, bowing your head as his reprimand sinks in. Your body feels clammy with sweat, a lump forming in your throat, and your heart pounding erratically. It's unnerving to be alone with him for the first time, leaving you feeling timid and inferior in his presence.
Heeseung strides further into the room, his figure imposing as he sets about restoring the box you disrupted, methodically arranging his treasures back into order. As you watch his back, uncertainty gnaws at you, weighing your options for the next move. You're aware that he expects you to leave, and perhaps you should for your own sake. Yet, this unexpected encounter presents an opportunity you've been yearning for - a chance to pose the questions that Jongseong has been evading.
"You're not like the other 3, are you?" you venture timidly, hoping to broach the subject without eliciting a harsh response from him.
Heeseung straightens up, exhaling sharply as he runs a hand through his hair, his eyebrows arching in surprise at your question. "What? Because I haven't fucked you, is that what you mean?" His tone drips with disdain at your observation, his words sharp and cutting.
"No, it's not that," you hurriedly clarify, sensing his hostility, "It's just...your aura, it's different," you explain despite struggling to put your thoughts into words.
Heeseung's expression shifts, a flicker of surprise crossing his features at your unexpected comment. "Different? How so?" he asks, curiosity replacing the initial edge of hostility.
You take a cautious step forward, emboldened by his slightly less defensive demeanour, "It's hard to explain," you admit, searching for the right words to articulate the subtle but distinct quality that sets him apart. "It's like... there's a depth to you, something...darker," you struggle to find the right description, hoping he'll understand that you aren’t trying to call him evil, even if that is what you are eluding to.
Tilting his head, Heeseung starts to smirk, a glint of amusement dancing in his eyes. He licks the side of his mouth casually before speaking, his tone teasing, "You have no idea who I am, do you?"
You don’t, that’s quite obviously the issue you’re having. You suppress the urge to roll your eyes because fuck whatever would come from that. So instead, you settle for shaking your head, hoping he will elaborate of his own accord.
The curiosity is evident on his face as he steps forward slightly, “You mean to tell me you’ve been here almost 2 months, fucked each of my brothers more times than I can count, and you still don’t know who we are?”
Feeling a flush of embarrassment creep up your cheeks at Heeseung's blunt question, the weight of his words hanging heavy in the air. It’s not through lack of trying, you have turned over every book, looked on every shelf, and bobby pinned your way into locks, yet you’re still in the dark.
Your silence only seems to fuel Heeseung's wicked merriment, his smirk widening into a sharp grin as he peers straight through you. "I really thought Jongseong would have caved by now. God knows how he really does love to paint himself as still a saint."
Drawing in a deep breath, Heeseung prepares to reveal the truth you've been longing to uncover. Your body stills as you realise this is finally it, everything you’ve been wanting, no, needing to know - he is about to let you in.
"We're from all over heaven and hell," he explains, his voice tinged with amusement that was targeted at your now shocked expression, "angels and demons, Baby, that’s what we are."
As his words sink in, you find yourself ensnared in a whirlwind of confusion and uncertainty. Angels and demons? The implications of such a revelation send a shiver down your spine.
Of course, they weren't human, you knew that much, but how can they be otherworldly beings straight out of myths, the kind you only hear about in churches and Supernatural episodes? The concept is difficult to fully process, leaving you grappling with a reality that feels more like a dream - or perhaps a nightmare. You would have been much more settled if they were the ghosts of those who lived here previously - this being one of the many guesses you made about their lives.
You've grown to adore the dolls, cherishing their presence above all else. But the newfound knowledge that some of them are demons sends a chill down your spine, casting a shadow of unease over your once-idyllic existence.
Sensing your need for clarity, Heeseung's voice breaks through the tumult of your thoughts. "Who do you want to know about first?" he inquires as his eyebrows raise, "I think it's only right that we start with your little angel, hmmm?"
Jaeyun.
Nodding, you brace yourself for whatever he is about to say.
“You’ll be glad to know, your lover boy is an angel,” he starts to explain and you already feel a relief wash over you. If Jaeyun was an evil spirit, that would have destroyed any perception you had of him, leaving you to question the authenticity of the connection you share; the idea that he could have manipulated you would hurt your soul more than you’d like to admit.
You see Heeseung weigh up his next words, “Well…not quite, he should have been but I stopped that from happening,” he confesses, feigning remorse for his doings, “He was actually meant to be a guardian angel. When he died in an accident, his soul was so pure he was handpicked to be someone's personal dove boy.”
“Wait, what do you mean you stopped it?” you ask almost immediately, your curiosity outweighing any other emotion as he speaks.
"He was wandering the veil, the in-between of life and death, waiting to be guided to heaven when I heard him crying out, confused and scared. He died too soon, but that greedy fuck up the stairs clearly couldn’t let him just live out his life the way he wanted to."
There’s anger in his voice as he speaks; it doesn’t take a genius to know he’s talking about God. You’ve always been taught that there is a plan for everyone, that no matter what happens, it’s the right path. Clearly, Heeseung doesn’t share the same outlook.
“So I answered his call and guided him to Soonyeol and the rest of us. Jaeyun only wanted to be loved and cherished his whole life, that was his dream, and I granted it in exchange for his memories,” he sees you poised with another question, but he stops you, raising a hand to silence you, “If you’re going to ask why I did that, it’s because he wouldn’t have coped otherwise, and he would have looked at us in anger rather than love.”
You have so many new questions, but as you go to speak, you can’t. Your mouth is dry, and your throat holds back a sob. You feel awful as you think about Jaeyun being scared after death, calling out for help, and in the end being stripped of his memories. Heeseung is acting as if he did him a favour - and in some way, he has - but he has also torn him away from his path.
As you struggle to find the right words to express your thoughts, Heeseung's gaze softens if only slightly, a flicker of understanding passing between you. "I know it's a lot to take in," he offers gently, his tone devoid of its usual edge, "But trust me when I say that Jaeyun is happier here than he ever was in his old life, and certainly more than he would be as a guardian. Soonyeol needed someone to look after and that’s all he has ever wanted; It’s a win-win.”
“So this was all for Soonyeol? Be honest with me,” you ask, picking up on his last sentence.
With a definitive nod, Heeseung doesn't deny your observation, "Everything that I have done is for her."
That piques your interest and the pieces of the puzzle start to fall into place, “Does that mean you did the same with the others? You brought them here for Soonyeol’s benefit?”
He lets out a heavy exhale, his demeanour shifting as he crosses his arms. “You make it sound like I've wronged Jaeyun,” he counters, any trace of understanding vanishing as his cold manner returns to the forefront.
You didn’t mean for it to sound accusatory, but you can’t help but call a spade a spade. Heaven is deemed difficult to enter - what with all the rules and hail mary’s - so for Jaeyun to be seen as holy enough to become someone’s guardian angel was a privilege he should have been able to experience.
Mirroring his posture, you cross your arms, a silent declaration of your determination. It might be foolish to stand toe to toe with him, considering his power to manipulate Jaeyun's memories and drag him to Earth, but you refuse to show any sign of weakness.
Heeseung grins, genuinely amused by your stance. He's impressed by your resolve, having pegged you for someone who would flee at the mere mention of demons. "You've got some backbone," Heeseung remarks, his grin widening as he observes your defiance, "I like that."
His words catch you off guard, a mixture of surprise and curiosity flickering in your eyes. Despite the gravity of the situation, you can't help but feel a small swell of pride at his unexpected approval.
“So? The others?”
“No, the others actually asked for my help, Sunghoon was practically crying out and begging to be saved from his cell in hell,” Heeseung explains as he reminisces about his first encounter with Sunghoon.
You nod slowly, trying to wrap your head around the revelation, “So he is a demon?” you mumble to yourself, looking down at the ground. Honestly, you should have known, he fucks you like he was part of the incubus club. Yet he is also so tender in his actions, he helps you out and makes sure you’re okay, gives you forehead kisses and aftercare - it doesn’t scream evil.
Clicking his fingers, Heeseung points them at you, a mischievous wink fluttering over to you, “Bingo. Sunghoon used to be a soldier, serving under one of the rulers in hell, Dis. The guy was made from remains of Lucifer, the Devil, whatever you want to call him, and because of that, he thought he was some big shot, ordering his soldiers to do horrific things, things even I wouldn’t do.”
You stand wide-eyed, taking in his words. You can't help but feel sorrow for Sunghoon, knowing how tormented he must have been in the depths of hell. It's an odd realisation to feel pity for a demon who you know must be bad enough to be prevented from entering Heaven.
"He couldn’t bear the torture anymore and he rebelled against Dis. Sunghoon has always despised authority; his only desire is to be in control, making him public enemy number one in the underworld. Ever been to jail in hell?" it's a rhetorical question because of course you haven’t, but you shake your head answering anyway. “Yeah, it’s not pretty. Sunghoon managed to contact me, pleading to do anything to escape. Hence, here he is.”
“What did he have to sacrifice? Or do you only make deals with angels?” you blurt out unintentionally, your distaste for Heeseung's methods bubbling to the surface.
“I’d watch that fucking tongue of yours before I tear it out and feed it to the dogs.”
Heeseung's threat hangs heavy in the air, his words laced with a chilling intensity that raises goosebumps over your body. You swallow hard, the weight of his gaze bearing down on you.
Clearing your throat, you attempt to steer the conversation back on track, knowing there is so much more to uncover, "I’m sorry, Heeseung," you say, your voice steady despite the tremor of uncertainty lingering within you, "I just want to understand.”
Heeseung appears satisfied with your apology, though his next words still carry a warning tone, “I heard a rumour you were a good girl. If you want to keep that reputation, I suggest you zip it.” Your cheeks flushed crimson, memories of your nights with Jongseong flooding your mind. You recalled the countless times he had called you his good girl, his perfect angel.
He continues, delving into the details of his arrangement with Sunghoon. "Sunghoon gave me his powers and his word," he explained, his tone taking on a grave seriousness, "I made it clear to him that he could have paradise with a girl who wanted some direction in her life, but if he ever laid an unwanted finger on her, I would hand his head to Dis myself."
You couldn’t help but feel a sense of unease at the thought of the intricate power dynamics at play within the household, each member bound by their own set of rules and obligations.
“The only person he has to answer to is Soonyeol, an upgrade from being whipped and battered with iron chains, wouldn’t you say?” Heeseung steps closer, his eyes flashing with a hint of crimson, or maybe it's just your imagination. All this information must be taking its toll on you, the headache forming in your frontal lobe might be tricking your eyes.
Heeseung's piercing gaze bores into yours and you can’t shake the unsettling feeling of being scrutinised, as if he were sizing you up as his next potential victim. Despite the growing discomfort prickling at the back of your mind, you steeled yourself, maintaining a carefully constructed facade of composure to shield against falling for his traps.
“And Jongseong? He’s a demon too?” you inquire quietly.
“Baby, he’s the furthest thing from it. In fact, you must have some powers of your own to get him to fuck you,” Heeseung responds with a scoff, his laughter ringing with a hint of mockery. He shakes his head, a sardonic smirk playing on his lips as he contemplates the notion of you and Jongseong together.
Heeseung's amusement fades into a knowing smile as he watches your face turn to confusion, "Jongseong is no demon, darling. He's a full-fledged guardian angel, just like Jaeyun was supposed to be," he explains, rendering you shocked.
Everything about Jongseong falls into place; how he's been looking after you from the very beginning, with his caring demeanour, always urging you to do what’s best, and his unwavering efforts to provide comfort and ease. It's just who he is.
As you reflect on Jongseong's constant care and support, a sense of gratitude washes over you. Jongseong has remained a steadfast presence, guiding you through the labyrinth of this otherworldly realm; he didn’t have to show you the altar or delve into how they were summoned, but he did to ease your mind, all the while shielding you from its evil secrets. It’s not that he didn’t want to tell you, it’s that he was protecting you from the hell of it all.
But if he is a guardian angel, he is too good to be here with a demon and a lost soul.
“Then why is he here? Shouldn’t he be the guardian of his human or something-” Just as the sentence passes your lips, your mouth falls open, eyes popping out of your head as you answer your own question, “He is Soonyeol’s guardian angel, isn’t he?”
Heeseung smiles proudly and claps his hands once. "You are one smart cookie," he observes, his tone without sarcasm for once.
“Shouldn’t guardian angels be silent? Like a gut feeling?”
Heeseung answers you with a casual shrug, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips, "Yeah, hence the doll costume. Actually…it's my fault he's stuck like that," he admits, his face scrunched up as he contemplates whether you will find his actions disconcerting or admirable. "Soonyeol wasn't listening to his pleas, she ignored her instinct, so he made himself visible - which by the way is a number one no-no up there,” he points out before continuing, “he wanted to warn her of the consequences of her actions. As a result, he lost his wings, God cut the tie between them and demoted him to a simple heaven walker. It was all quite a scandal.”
You don’t know what to say, how can you say anything when all you want to do is curse out everyone who had a part to play in Soonyeol and Jongseong’s parting?
“Then he tried to see her again, defying God and his stupid ‘disapproving actions have consequences’ bullshit. Jongseong was deemed to be sinful and therefore, poof,” Heeseung explains further, twinkling his fingers as if it were a cloud of smoke, “He was banished to heaven’s wasteland forever.”
Amusement that seems to dance in Heeseung's eyes feels wrong as if there's a sick happiness he derives from Jongseong's misery. You know angels and demons have never seen eye to eye but they are close enough to call one another ‘brother’, surely that has to stand for some sympathy?
Sensing your disapproval, Heeseung wipes the smile from his face, his demeanour turning cold. "Judge me all you want, Baby, but I helped him get her back," he asserts, his voice dripping with venom, "Without me, he wouldn't be near her." There's a bitter edge to his tone, a hint of resentment seeping through his words.
"God wanted Jongseong to never see her again, but I knew that would hurt her," he continues, his eyes flashing with intensity, "A guardian angel and their human have a bond that is stronger than any love you can even imagine, especially when they come into contact. He couldn’t live without her, his desperate longing ached so loud that’s all I could fucking hear for weeks. So I got him out of that heaven hole and brought him closer to her than he ever was."
The raw emotion in Heeseung's words sends a chill down your spine, his bitterness and resentment palpable in the air. You feel for Jongseong, caught in the crossfire of divine politics and human emotions. He only wanted to protect her and he got scolded for it, reprimanded for fulfilling his duty to her, that part is tripping you up the most. Well, that and one other thing.
"This is so confusing," you exclaim, rubbing your temples in frustration. "So it's your fault he's the doll because? Surely the real reason would be whatever he was trying to protect her from, the thing that caused him to show himself."
With a smirk, Heeseung nods, pointing to himself. "Yeah, that was me," he admits unabashedly, "She was summoning me."
Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise at Heeseung's admission. "She was summoning you?" you repeat, incredulous.
Heeseung nods, his smirk widening into a joyful grin. "Yep," he confirms, pride creeping into his tone. "She called, and I answered.”
The implications of Heeseung's revelation leave you speechless. Soonyeol's actions inadvertently set off a chain of events that ultimately led to Jongseong's downfall. It's a sobering reminder of the unpredictable nature of their world and the consequences of meddling with forces beyond control.
"Why you?" you finally manage to ask, your voice barely above a whisper.
Heeseung steps forward, closing the distance between you with an unsettling grace. His presence looms over you, casting a shadow of unease, "I suppose I should formally introduce myself," he says, bowing his head with a wicked grin, "I'm Heeseung, formally known as Beelzebub.
I'm a Prince of Hell."
The world spins groggily around you, your limbs going numb as the weight of his words hangs heavy in the air. You find yourself at a loss, grappling with the realisation that you've been living with none other than the Lord of the Flies himself.
Beelzebub, one of the seven Princes of Hell, holds a position of immense power and authority in the underworld. As the third in command, he wields influence and dominion over legions of demons, surpassing even the mightiest of Archangels in strength and cunning.
Despite your limited knowledge of demonology, you understand enough to know that Beelzebub is not to be trifled with. His name alone strikes fear into the hearts of humans and angels alike, a testament to his formidable reputation and malevolent nature.
As Heeseung's hand brushes against your cheek, a reflexive flinch courses through you. "Don't be scared of me now, Baby," he says, a sly grin playing at the corners of his lips. There's a hint of amusement in his tone as he relishes the unease he elicits from you, "I'm actually enjoying your questions. Go on, hit me with another one."
He is far too casual about this, then again, he has known of his identity forever so he has no reason to be startled.
You hesitate, unsure of what question to pose next. The revelation of Heeseung's true identity has left your mind reeling, your heart pounding in your chest, and palms sweaty. There’s no doubt he senses how your nerves are rattled, that smug look on his face says it all.
But you need answers so you compose yourself and pull up your big girl pants.
Gathering your thoughts, you finally muster the courage to speak, swallowing the lump in your throat, “Why did Soonyeol summon you?”
His facial expression shifts from smug to something softer, a hint of fondness flickering in his eyes as he reminisces about Soonyeol and their relationship. "She called me," he begins, his voice carrying a note of nostalgia, "A young girl who couldn’t find her place in the world. All she wanted was to be lifted from her toxic family and find the serenity she needed."
"And you granted her wish?" you prompt, eager to understand the dynamics of their relationship and the extent of Heeseung's influence over Soonyeol's life.
Heeseung nods, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "I did, I gave her all of this," he confirms, his voice tinged with a mixture of pride and affection as he gestures around him, speaking of the house and the dolls which live in it, "I offered her a way out, a chance to escape her past and forge a new destiny. And in return, she granted me her loyalty, devotion, and eventually, her soul."
The discovery of Soonyeol’s past leaves you reeling, your perception of her shifting in an instant. Here you were, thinking she was all-powerful and commanding, when in reality, she was just a scared girl in her twenties. The thought of what she must have endured, what drove her to call upon a demon for help, fills you with a profound sense of empathy and compassion.
If Heeseung granted Soonyeol her deepest desires, if he offered her a way out of her suffering, then what does that say about his own motivations? After all, as a Prince of Hell, he could have chosen to do whatever he pleased. Yet, he chose to stay loyal to Soonyeol.
Then, just like that, it hits you: he must love her in some capacity. It's the only explanation for his unwavering loyalty, for his willingness to sacrifice some of his own freedom for her sake.
You breathe out softly, nodding as you agree with your mind, “You love her, don’t you? That’s why you stick around and give her anything she wants, even if that means letting herself indulge in more than just you.”
He scoffs and laughs loudly, making you jump back slightly, “Y/N, this isn’t a soppy fairytale or one of your romance novels. I’m a Prince of Hell, not Prince Charming. I’m incapable of love,” his face is bright, tittering at even the implication, “I am fond of her though, I will admit. She has a charm about her that intrigues me.”
“Then why do you stay, fondness isn’t enough to stay in this house,” you question, a little more confident now that his protective guard is down.
He pauses, mulling over your question before responding, “I promised I would give her what she needs, and she needs me,” he explains, his voice taking on a lower, more intimate tone. As he moves closer to you, his signature smirk returns, “And I don’t break my promises, Y/N.”
You tremble a little, the lowering octave in his voice causes your knees to quake and heart to still. As Heeseung's body towers closer, you find yourself captivated by the intensity in his gaze, the allure of his enigmatic persona drawing you in like a moth to a flame.
His menacing smirk widens as he watches your reaction, his eyes gleaming with a mixture of amusement and something deeper, something you can't quite decipher. Just being this close to him is making your body react in a way it shouldn’t, your thighs rubbing together as he looks into your eyes, seeking to find out what’s going on in your brain.
And unfortunately for you, he’s good at picking up your signals.
"What do you need, Y/N? Let me help you," he murmurs, his voice a soothing melody that resonates deep within you. You take a step back, intending to create some distance between you, but your legs betray you, colliding with the edge of the bed and sending you stumbling backwards.
Just as you brace for impact, Heeseung is there, his strong arms wrapping around you in a protective embrace. His touch is electrifying, sending a jolt of warmth through your veins as he steadies you effortlessly. "See? You can trust me," he reassures, his voice low and hypnotic as he holds you close.
His words slice through the air like a siren's call, drawing you nearer despite the warning bells in your mind. As Heeseung's eyes lock with yours, vulnerability washes over you, a desire to confide in him, to bare the depths of your desires.
“I know what you want anyway. Your soul has been calling out for it. I can hear you crying out, just like I did the others,” his grip on your waist tightens.
You stay still, pondering his words. How can he hear your soul’s desires when you’ve been grappling and searching to figure out what you want your entire life? You moved to the big city for university because you thought it was a sure cut way to achieve fulfilment, only to find unhappiness. You entered relationships yearning for love, only to hide away from the commitment when it all got too real.
In all your existence, you have never known what you want.
But he does, you can see it in his eyes, “What do I want, Heeseung?” you ask both curiously and longingly, hoping he can shed some light upon you.
“You want this life, with us,” Heeseung says matter of factly, his eyes tracing the contours of your face as the scared expression turns into one of perplexion, “Don’t you see it? How you took Soonyeol’s place so easily, falling into her role like you were born to be ours, like we were made for you.”
His words linger, thick with insinuation. You study his eyes for signs of deception, but all you see is sincerity, a profound conviction that sends shivers down your spine because deep down within you, you know it’s true too.
Ever since you set foot in this house, you've felt it - a subtle shift in the air, a stirring of something dormant within you. In the city, you lived in a tiny flat, unemployed and miserable, your only solace found in the familiar glow of your television screen as you binge-watched your favourite shows for the umpteenth time.
But here, in the mansion, it's different. Cleaning its halls and tending to the dolls and their needs, it's given you a purpose you thought you had lost along the way. Each day brings with it a renewed sense of fulfilment, a feeling of being truly alive in a way you haven't felt in years.
You want this life, you’ve fallen in love with its routine and stability, how each day you wake up and roam the halls, admiring the artwork and serenity in the echoes of your footsteps. The silence of it all makes your heart weep with joy, the boys you have come to cherish - even now, despite knowing about their supernatural entities and the mass power they hold - you love them dearly.
Heeseung, as if reading your mind, smirks and licks his lips, “You feel alive, don’t you?” He knows you do, he can see it in your eyes and the feel of your blood rushing along your veins. Mia was right when she said you were glowing all but two weeks ago. You’re radiant, like you have your own personal sun perched upon your shoulder, giving you an incandescent glow.
You’re finally happy.
“You also want one more thing,” Heeseung’s voice is a mere whisper now, his lips tantalisingly close to yours. Your pupils dilate as you lock eyes with him, his presence drawing you in as if he's reaching into the depths of your soul, rummaging around inside to pull you apart, “You’ve been craving me.”
A visceral energy electrifies every nerve ending in your body as he speaks, the expectation crackling in the air. You're standing on the verge of something exciting and new, and it feels like time has stopped still. The intensity of his stare searing into yours, the heat of his fingers against your back as he dips them up your shirt makes you shakily exhale the breath you were holding.
He rubs his beautiful, sharp nose against yours, closing his eyes as he reads further into your heart, “You feel like you’re missing out on me," he murmurs, his voice dripping with sinister undertones, because he knows he has you exactly where he wants you.
It’s embarrassing but it’s true, even if you don’t wish to admit it to yourself. You don’t want to seem ungrateful to the other three because truly they have given you everything you could ever need; but no amount of fulfilment from them can stop your aching body, wanting nothing more than to have the doll in front of you, the one who is currently holding you so tightly that you should feel trapped, yet you’ve never felt more liberated.
As his arms tighten around you, holding you in a suffocating grip, you find your voice trembling with desire and uncertainty, "You never showed any interest in me. I didn’t think you wanted me."
A wicked grin twists across Heeseung's lips, his eyes glinting with malice as he leans down to your neck, licking a long stripe up your jugular, savouring your taste on his tongue. He can’t stop the rumble of a chuckle coming from his chest.
“Baby, you just seemed to be having such a good time with my brothers; who was I to deny them your presence?” Heeseung nips are your skin, eliciting a moan from your dry throat. The air around you both is stifling, the atmosphere heavy with want and greed because you both know what is about to happen, even if you want to stop it - which you don’t.
Heeseung’s allure is too powerful for you to deny, it’s easy to see how Soonyeol got sucked in so easily, wanting him in her life and summoning him here forever. His touch though, is another level of intoxication entirely. His large hands roam your body with a possessiveness that sends your mind reeling, drowning in a sea of exhilaration.
As you part your lips to speak, Heeseung watches you with predatory patience, knowing that whatever words escape your mouth, they will only serve to further his agenda. In this moment, you are merely a pawn in his twisted game, powerless to defy the inexorable pull of his dark charisma.
“Jongseong said you don’t like to be last,” you say, discretely questioning his reasoning for not coming into contact with you sooner.
Laughing, Heeseung shakes his head with a sinister delight. His bottom lip grazes up your chin, dragging closer until it hovers mere millimetres from your mouth, “Oh, he couldn’t be more wrong. I wanted you to experience them first and let them have some fun with you,” he presses you harshly against him, letting you feel his thick cock against your heat, causing you to whimper slightly, much to his approval.
He kisses your lips every so lightly, your instincts to chase his mouth with yours only adding to his amusement. You’re such a strong-willed girl, he knows that by how he has observed you and how long you have remained in this house despite the constant terror and unease it has bestowed upon you. So to see you utterly weak like this is fueling his desire like crazy.
You look at him, waiting for him to talk again and say anything that would give you both the green light to divulge your sins.
“I let them have you because if I got to you first,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against your ear, and you can feel the smugness radiating from him, "You wouldn’t have even looked their fucking way."
Heat surges through you, an uncomfortable arousal that threatens to overwhelm you as you struggle to contain the torrent of desire within you. It's as if every inch of your skin is on fire, and you long to shed it all off your bones just to cool the burning sensation. The wetness between your legs is undeniable as it practically runs down your thighs.
Your heart pounds in sync with the rhythm of his kisses trailing along your neck and jawline and your hands clench at your sides, tension and lust swirling within you. If this is going to happen, it's going to happen now, forcing you to confront the question that looms over you like a dark cloud,
Are you going to fuck a Prince from Hell?
There are so many wrongs to counteract the rightness of this moment, knowing that this is territory foreign to the others you’ve laid with. They might be celestial beings but Heeseung is a God in his own right and he fucking knows it.
You can feel his amusement radiating off him as he watches you struggle with your inner thoughts, relishing in your torment as you wrestle with the pros and cons of surrendering to him completely. But amidst the chaos of your thoughts, one thing remains clear:
You want him. More than anything, you want to give in to the temptation that beckons you toward him, to lose yourself in the darkness that surrounds him. And as you meet his gaze with unwavering determination, you know that no matter the consequences, you're ready to embrace the inferno that awaits.
“So…can I ruin them for you?”
He looks at you using the triangle method and you almost physically fall to your knees, each time his eyes dart between your mouth and eyes, you feel saliva forming at the corner of your lip, lustfully loving his hooded eyes as he stares down at you. The way he assesses you, with a predatory focus that makes your heart race, leaves you feeling exposed and vulnerable.
But you want to fuck him so bad, you think you might die.
With a skip of your heart, you nod, surrendering to the inevitable. It's all the confirmation Heeseung needs and in an instant, his lips crash down on yours, a collision that would make Asmodeus jealous.
His touch is paradoxical, you can feel the roughness of his grip on your right tit, a stark contrast to the tenderness of his lips, and it only serves to heighten the intensity of the moment. It’s obvious you're not alone in your craving; Heeseung has been consumed by thoughts of you since the first moment he laid eyes on you, a primal urge driving him to mark you as his own.
And as you lose yourself in the heat of the moment, you know that there's no turning back.
"I'm gonna fucking destroy every other man for you," he growls before roughly pushing you onto the bed, the severity of which causes you whiplash.
In urgency, Heeseung hastily works to remove your bottoms, his hands precise with anticipation, making sure he doesn’t lose another second. The fabric slides off your hips with ease, revealing the glistening wetness between your thighs and the cold air kisses your exposed cunt, making you shiver.
Heeseung's middle finger traces along your folds, collecting some of your slick arousal and spreading it with sinful precision, applying pressure on points you’re sensitive. As he teases you, his voice drips with a mixture of amusement and wicked desire.
"Your cunt is drooling over a demon, are you not embarrassed?" he taunts, his words laced with a dark edge that ignites a fierce blush on your cheeks. What’s worse is that his mockery only serves to stoke the lust within you, your hole clenching involuntarily in response.
Unfortunately for you, he notices, his chuckle knowing. "I do love a girl with no shame," he mumbles, his voice thick as he revels in the sight of your unabashed arousal.
With a predatory glint in his eyes, Heeseung wastes no time diving in, his mouth and tongue delving into your slick folds with a hunger that borders on ravenous. The sensation is overwhelming, a tidal wave of pleasure crashing over you as he explores every inch of your dripping sex with unrestrained fervour.
His movements are uninhibited, his tongue tracing erratic patterns against your sensitive nub as he seeks to consume you entirely. Each wet, sloppy lick and suck sends sparks of ecstasy shooting through your body, building the tension to an almost unbearable peak.
In the throes of pleasure, your instinctive reach to grab Heeseung's hair proves to be your first mistake. Before your fingers can even brush against his roots, he retaliates with a harsh bite on your clit, causing you to recoil with a cry, tears welling in your eyes.
“I didn’t say you could touch me, did I?” he warns, his mouth still wet with your juices as he looks up at you with a mix of dominance and satisfaction.
The memory of your first encounter with Jongseong floods your mind, the way he punished you for your disobedience is still vivid in your memory. It was meant to deter you from acting out, and in his case, it did. But now, with Heeseung, the desire to be reprimanded once again ignites within you, a need that demands satisfaction.
Jongseong awakened something inside of you, a craving for submission and punishment that you never knew existed. And now, with Heeseung, you yearn to explore it on a new level, one that a sweet angel like Jongseong is too kind to deliver.
It’s exciting and foolish all at once.
Gently, you run your hands through his hair, feeling the texture of it between your fingers as you grasp at his roots.
Heeseung's reaction is immediate, his body tensing at your touch even as a low growl rumbles in his chest. But instead of pulling away, he leans into your touch, his tough facade cracking ever so slightly as a faint tremor runs through him. It's a fleeting moment of vulnerability, a crack in the armour he wears so proudly.
For a brief instant, you glimpse the man behind the Prince of Hell, a creature of darkness with desires and needs of his own. You ponder if this is what Soonyeol gives him, if that is why he is so reluctant to enjoy your comforting touch.
But before you can think much more about it, he reacts with swift brutality, sinking his teeth harshly down on your clit once more. The pain is searing, a sharp shock that tears a cry of both pain and pleasure from your lips. It's a punishment, yes, but one that you oh so desperately want.
His teeth sink in with immense force that causes you so much pain you try to escape, kicking your legs to scramble from him. But that only makes things worse as he grips your thighs with might to hold you in place, bruises and indents already forming under his nails. He adds a cruel twist, pulling at your bug sharply, causing your hips to rise instinctively towards his mouth in a futile attempt to ease the agony.
But Heeseung isn't fooled by your subtle movements. He catches on quickly, his grip tightening on your clit before he roughly pushes you down onto the bed, his palm pressing forcefully into your stomach to keep you in place.
"Don't make me rip it off," he growls, his eyes blazing with a volatile mix of anger and lust. It's a warning laced with danger, a reminder of the power he wields over you, “You’re so good for Jongseong, his…what did he call you? his ‘good little girl’, was that it?” he asks you with a condescending tone.
How did he know about that?
Your eyes widen and he idly rubs your pussy painfully slowly, sighing out loud with over-exaggeration, his eyes twinkling with mischief. Heeseung's knowledge of your intimate dynamics with Jongseong sends a shiver down your spine. His fingers, though moving torturously slowly, ignite sensations that both excite and terrify you.
“What? You thought you could call upon the entirety of Hell and word wouldn’t get back to me?”
That night when Jongseong set your underwear ablaze and used your essence as a way to reach the pits below you. They heard it all; your whimpering and moaning for the angel, how you begged him to fuck you, and how he called you his good girl.
Which means Heeseung heard it all…
Spitting on your pussy, he licks it back up, the white foam sitting on his tongue as he draws it back into his mouth slowly. It’s another way of torturing you, of giving you a piece of him while just as quickly taking it away.
“If you can be a good girl for him, why aren’t you being one for me?” Heeseung's faux pout and slumped shoulders mask the dominance in his tone. With each flick of his finger, he revives the pain back onto your rose, denying you any reprieve.
You whimper with each taunt, wishing he would just go back to sucking your clit, to lick the wounds he created - but this is what you get when you play with fire.
Breathing out slowly, you nod, relenting your notion to be punished…for now.
“I’m sorry, I’ll be good,” you say sorrowfully, thrusting your clit up as you serve yourself to him on a plate.
Heeseung pauses, his expression shifting as he considers your apology. For a moment, it seems as though he might relent, his features softening with the faintest hint of hesitation. But then, with a wicked glint in his eyes, he shakes his head slowly.
"You know," he muses, his voice dripping with amusement, "I've always had a preference for bad girls." You almost moan out loud, the way his voice changed gear from one of anger to one so sultry you can forecast rain for the next two days.
He kisses your clit softly and slowly with his petal-soft lips. The lewd sounds of his mouth combined with your wetness elicit tiny whines from your lips, creating a symphony of want and distress. It's an ennui unlike any other you've ever known, a dizzying combination of pleasure and agony that leaves you wanting more.
Heeseung's lips dip lower, leaving a trail of fire in their wake as he explores every inch of your quivering flesh. He revels in the power he holds over you, relishing in the way your body responds to his touch.
"You want more, don’t you?" Heeseung's voice is a low murmur against your skin as he continues his tormenting actions. Each kiss, each caress sends ripples of sensation through you, building the tension to unbearable heights.
Before you can render yourself to say anything, he delves back in, his tongue now swirling in your hole, like he’s digging for treasure. You grasp desperately at the sheets beneath you, your nails digging into the fabric as you surrender yourself to the overwhelming ecstasy of his touch.
What doesn’t help is when you look down at him and see him smirking up at you, rubbing his nose against your clit. It’s enough to make your eyes roll back and your legs seize up.
“Oh god, Heeseung..." you moan, the words escaping your lips in a breathless whisper as pleasure washes over you in waves.
He draws back, his eyes ablaze with raw desire, "That's right, baby," he growls, his voice dripping with dominance. "I am your God now."
As you close your eyes, you suddenly feel two of his fingers delving into you, the sensation causing your back to arch, thus, pushing your heat further into his face. Everything you are experiencing right now is so overwhelming, there is no let-up and you think this is both the most painful and best you have ever felt.
Heeseung’s concentration is solely on you cumming undone, wanting only to see your face when you are overcome with bliss. He has had to spend 6 weeks or so listening to his brothers talk about how beautiful and ethereal you look as the whites of your eyes take over; now it’s his turn.
Curling his fingers inside you, he beckons your orgasm forward, pushing against the spongy flesh of your walls, his middle digit hitting deliciously against a soft spot while he flicks his tongue over your bud. You wriggle beneath him, soft moans escaping your lips as you feel your tummy coil.
Heeseung's efforts are rewarded as your body responds to his touch, pleasure building to a crescendo until it explodes within you. With a crying scream, you call out his name, your thighs instinctively clamping around his head as you ride the waves of ecstasy crashing over you.
Your body arches, seeking both escape from his relentless touch and yet craving more of the intoxicating sensation he provides. In that moment of release, you are utterly and completely lost to him, surrendering yourself to the overwhelming pleasure he elicits from you.
Out of every orgasm you’ve had, this is the one that has rendered you completely dumb, incapable of doing anything more than panting and twitching.
But Heeseung doesn't grant you a moment to catch your breath. Even as your body shudders with the aftershocks of your climax, he commands you, his voice laced with authority. "Sit up," he orders, his tone brooking no argument as he guides you into a sitting position, his hand gripped tight in your hair as he yanks you forward. The air crackles with anticipation as you have no choice but to comply, “Strip me, baby.”
Without a second thought, you mindlessly rise to your feet, your fingers fumbling eagerly with the hem of Heeseung's loose white t-shirt. In one swift motion, you pull it over his head and toss it aside, your gaze hungrily tracing the contours of his bare chest. You want nothing more than to touch him, to caress his delicate skin with your hands, but you’re scared it’ll temper him into ripping all of this away from you.
Returning to sit on the bed with renewed enthusiasm, you focus your attention on his baggy grey joggers, swiftly untying the strings and pulling them down to reveal his naked form beneath. Your breath catches in your throat at the sight of his arousal, his impressive length standing semi-hard before you.
Without hesitation, you reach out and grasp his cock, feeling the heat of his faux skin beneath your fingertips. With a sense of urgency, you press your lips to his flushed tip, desperate to taste him before he can deny you the pleasure.
You lick at his shaft like he’s a frozen popsicle on a swarming hot summer day, your need driving your hurry as you coat him in saliva. The more you lick, the harder he gets and his throat has to hold back groans.
Heeseung's initial instinct is to reprimand you for your boldness, for daring to take control in such a way, but unlike Jongseong, he has little self-control, the pleasure he’s feeling as your mouth envelopes him fully is more than enough cause to let you continue.
As his mouth relaxes and his eyes screw shut, you take advantage of the opportunity to explore him further, dropping your head to focus on his balls. The sensation is amazing, sending pleasure-filled sparks through his body as he surrenders part of himself to you.
You’re so drunk on his cock right now that you don’t even care how desperate you look, you just need him in every way possible. If he asked, you would probably fuck him in his demon form; as long as you could taste him on your tongue, that is all that matters.
Heeseung pushes your head back abruptly, his fingernails digging deep into your scalp, causing a disgruntled whine to fall from your mouth.
The throbbing between your legs beats loudly in your eardrums as you look up and see his eyes, that same red flickering behind his pupils except this time, they swirl with a deep black cloud. You can tell he’s aching to be released from the confines of the doll suit, to break free and absolutely devour you in his true form.
You should feel scared, petrified even, yet you only long for him more.
“You’ll never make it to heaven with a tongue like that, Baby.”
His words, spoken with a hint of warning, only serve to fuel the fire burning within you, "What makes you think I want to go to heaven?" you retort, your voice dripping with desire and defiance.
With a sly smirk, Heeseung leans in closer, sending shivers down your spine, "Maybe you prefer the flames of hell," he murmurs, his tone laced with dark promise, "And I'll be more than happy to escort you there myself."
Heeseung's hand grips your hair with a firmness that borders on possessive. He then thrusts his cock into your mouth with commanding force, the sudden intrusion eliciting a gasp of surprise from you, causing you to choke slightly.
But that doesn’t stop him, instead, he just continues to batter your throat with his length brutally, each punch of his hips only further bruising your oesophagus. Tears well up in your eyes as you struggle to breathe. Yet, why do you love it? The feeling of your world almost going black, the way your body tightens around nothing but the desire to breathe, it’s deadly but you couldn’t be more alive.
Feeling you splurt out tiny breathes around his dick as you gasp for air, Heeseung pulls your head back, letting oxygen breathe back into your lungs.
He takes the moment to admire you; your hair tousled in his hands, your mascara smudging slightly around your eyes, and the spit mixed with some beads of his precum sliding slowly down your chin. You’re angelic, demonic, and everything he could ever want right now.
You’re so horny that not having his cock filling up one of your holes is leaving you whimpering, tears forming in your eyes - not from pain but need. You need to feel him in some way, you are starving for him, and one more second without tasting him might send you into madness.
And Heeseung knows it, he can hear your greatest, deepest desires after all. The thought of you under his spell without him using a single persuasive tactic is euphoric to him. Through the years, Soonyeol has grown accustomed to him, expecting his demanding nature but never truly worshipping him the way he wants; not the way you are right now.
This might only be for tonight but he will try and make it last an eternity.
Huffing out in frustration, you grow tired of waiting for Heeseung to make his move, opting instead to brush your face across his throbbing cock. The sensation of his velvety shaft against your cheeks is phenomenal, the need for contact driving you to this demoralising state.
Closing your eyes, you relish in the tactile sensation, savouring the moment of intimacy as you slap his cock against your cheek and mouth. The hunger within you demands satisfaction, and you're willing to take whatever scraps of pleasure you can get, even if it's just the simple touch of his arousal against your skin.
“You’re so fucking filthy, baby,” he growls, his eyes blown in ecstasy while he watches you lather yourself with his member, “Are you that much of a cockslut?”
Absentmindedly you nod, owning up to the degrading nickname because, at the end of the day, that is exactly what you are right now; a cockslut, an ever-needing, desperate cockslut for none other than the high-ranking Prince of Hell.
Nudging your nose with his tip, you beg him like a dog to let go of your hair and stuff your mouth full once again. The mewls leaving your mouth flood Heeseung’s ears and he understands that you’re too far gone to form a sentence, so he grants your wish and shoves himself back into you.
His hips buck forward with a fierce urgency that sends your head shaking with each forceful thrust. The intensity of his movements makes your eyes roll back, driving you deeper into a state of arousal as you struggle to keep up with his rhythm.
But with your mouth full, your pussy is feeling dangerously left out, your entire heat seeking some form of release. Without realising it, you start to hump the air, moving your hips as though you were grinding on his cock.
Heeseung's movements falter for a moment as he notices your struggle to find complete pleasure. With a low grow, he halts his thrusts, his gaze intense as he takes in your flushed cheeks and heaving chest.
“Look at you,” he points out, shaking his head in feigned disbelief, watching as your juices leak out your cunt, staining his sheets a darker shade.
Smirking, he places his foot on the edge of the bed, pressing ever so lightly onto your dripping heat. You gasp and pop off his cock, looking down as you see your way to much-needed relief. Heeseung steps on you roughly, offering you a sturdy anchor which you eagerly accept. Despite the pain as the ball of his foot presses against your clit, you push your body against it, relishing in the firmness of his sole against your skin; you’ll take any relief you can get.
Every movement sends a surge of electric pleasure coursing through you, the friction between your bodies. You grind against him with increasing intensity, your hips undulating in perfect rhythm with his foot as you chase after the elusive peak of ecstasy.
“Keep sucking it or I’ll take it away,” he warns, tapping his cock on your gaped mouth
The chilling warning from Heeseung serves as a reminder of the balance between pleasure and punishment. Taking his cock back into your mouth with newfound vitality, you return to your task with a sense of urgency. The taste of him is intoxicating, fueling your urge to please him and avoid the consequences of disobedience. You do not want him to take anything away from you.
He moves in tandem with your hips, bringing you closer and closer to the edge as you fuck yourself shamelessly on his foot as if you were a wanton whore in heat. Your hands gripping his leg for more leverage, seeking another release as fast as possible.
Humming around his length in a high-pitched cry, you climax violently, your impulse to thrust forward only shoving his cock farther into your throat, stretching it wide in ways you don't believe is humanly possible.
"Fuck-" Heeseung groans, the sound raw as he releases his thick ropes of cum down your throat, your climax setting off a chain reaction. His mouth hangs wide open as his throbbing shaft finds home in your canal, his eyebrows furrowed together as he loses himself. He can’t help but think what your perfect little pussy feels like as you cum, how it would squeeze him tighter than your throat can.
You are swimming in a pool of pure fire as you lose yourself to the engulfing of pleasure, riding his foot through your climax while swallowing his seed. This is a feeling you will never experience with any other man and you know now what he meant when he said you would never have looked at the others if he had his way with you first.
When both of your minds clear and your lungs are screaming out for oxygen, you pop off his cock, giving it an adoring kiss as a thank you for what has just happened and what it is about to do to you.
Looking down at you, Heeseung marvels at your display of gratitude, wishing every human was as worshipful.
“I’d love to rip that soul from your body and stuff you in a doll suit so I can fuck you forever.”
His admission catches you both off guard, the silence of the afternoon lying dormant around the room. Did he mean that? Did he want to take your soul and keep you? It’s plausible considering his history but to hear it being said about you makes your blood run cold.
But at this moment, if he asked you to let him in and take you, you might just let him - or maybe it was the emptiness of your cunt that was talking.
“I don’t need to be a doll to fuck until the moon shines and the sunrises,” you whisper, your lust completely taking over your body. The once timid and unsure version of yourself has faded into oblivion, replaced by someone bold, relentless, and consumed by the craving to be stuffed with his cock.
He audibly groans, hearing how keen you are for him to devour you, not even put off by his threatening admission just moments earlier. Rolling his eyes to the back of his head and shaking his thoughts, Heeseung lifts your chin and pulls on your bottom lip, staring at you as he figures out exactly how he wants you. He swipes his tongue along the corner of his mouth, “I’m going to hold you to that, baby. Get on all fours,” he instructs.
Doing as he says, you turn around and drop to your hands and knees, offering yourself up to him as your heart pounds in your chest in exhilaration. You wiggle your ass a bit, hoping he'll take the hint and dive in, fucking you as hard and fast as he so wishes.
Your ass is so perfect and plump he can’t help but grab at it, using his strong hands to knead your cheeks, pressing and pulling them apart as he takes quick glances at both of your holes. He wishes he had two cocks just to utterly destroy you with, each of your entrances filled with him as he pounds into you. Unfortunately, he only has one right now and he knows it’s your cunt that needs him the most, so he’ll save that idea for another time.
Grasping his cock, he slides it up and down your ass, shallowly tapping it to get him hard again, but with the way you’re already grasping the sheets in anticipation and your cunt is soaked with need, it doesn’t take him long. Heeseung strokes himself a couple of times before resting his tip at your gaping heat, the bell turning rosé as it pushes just slightly into you.
It's agonising, the way he waits there as though he's not equally consumed by the thought of rocking your world. He's deliberately drawing it out, savouring the anticipation, revelling in the sweet sound of your pleas, knowing that your cries for him are his ultimate desire fulfilled.
"Please, Heeseung," you whimper, arching your body towards him, desperate for the connection, but he always stays just out of reach, teasingly withholding what you crave.
You groan in frustration, your need for him becoming almost unbearable. He's in control, and you can't help but revel in the way he toys with you, pushing you to the brink of madness with his tantalising touch.
But there is only so much a girl can take, so with a resolute sparkle in your eyes, you make it clear that you will not be denied any longer. Ignoring his playful taunting, you reach between your bodies and direct his hardness to the entrance of your smooth heat. Swiftly, you impale yourself on him, a moan escaping your lips as you take him deep inside.
Heeseung's eyes widen in surprise, momentarily stunned by your boldness, but it's only for a minute before a wicked grin spreads across his face. You are so much more than he could have ever imagined.
Slapping your ass harshly, he hopes to still you but it only makes you rock onto him faster. You set a punishing pace, riding him with abandon, lost in the ecstasy of finally having him where you want him.
Again, he crashes his hand painfully against your cheek but you won’t stop, you can’t, his dick is so delicious as it sucks into your cunt. Rapidly, he hits you, one, two, three, four, all in quick strikes and all you can do is clench your pussy around him and moan, picking up your pace.
“I can’t even punish you because you love it,” he notes, leaning back to observe you in awe, loving how your body is starting to flush with sweat as you work overtime to take what you need from him.
“Fuck I wish you could see how pathetic you look right now.”
Gripping the sheets beneath you, your knuckles turn white as your chest tightens. The angle of his cock is hitting you so deliciously that you can’t even breathe properly or register a word he’s saying. All you heard was ‘pathetic’ and you agree with him because that’s how you’re backing yourself onto his long shaft.
Heeseung watches you in amazement, his own desire growing as he observes your relentless determination. "You love it, don't you?" he remarks, his voice laced with true admiration. He lets you have a few more moments of fun, clasping his hands at the back of his neck and pulling down, watching you with dangerous eyes. With the way your walls are closing in, he knows you’re close. “Tell me you love my cock.”
You nod, burying your face into the sheets as your coil threatens to snap, the harsh rhythm you set for yourself is faltering slightly as you reach your next climax. But when you don’t answer him and stroke his ego, it snaps Heeseung back into his domineering state.
Roughly bunching up your hair, he pulls your face from the bed and leans into your ear, his chest laid flat against your back, “Fucking answer me when I speak to you. Tell me you fucking love it,” he growls out his demands, ripping some of your hair from their roots.
Your breath catches in your throat as his grip tightens, a mixture of pain and pleasure coursing through you. With a whimper, you finally concede, unable to resist his commanding presence any longer. "I love it," you gasp, your voice strained with need as you surrender to his dominance. "I love your cock so fucking much!"
A satisfied smirk spreads across Heeseung's lips as he releases your hair, his fingers trailing down your spine in a possessive caress, "That's what I thought," he murmurs, his voice sneering before pushing your head into the mattress.
From that moment on, the dynamic shifts entirely. Heeseung takes control with ruthless determination, smothering your face into the softness of the bedsheets. His strength overwhelms you as he holds you firmly in place, your features pressed into the fabric until you know you'll emerge from this session with a pounding headache.
Your muffled protests are lost in the sheets as Heeseung continues to assert his dominance, his grip unyielding. He piledrives into you, his foot now on the edge of the bed to give him more stability. His skin is furiously slapping against yours as he takes you brutally from behind.
"You wanted this, remember? Now, let me show you who's in charge."
Releasing your head, Heeseung grants you a moment to gulp in air, your chest heaving as you crave the sweet relief of oxygen. But his attention swiftly shifts, his hands now gripping your hips with a firmness that promises bruises, yet you welcome it eagerly. With each powerful thrust, he plunges deeper into you, his sizable cock filling you to the brim with each relentless motion.
With hunger burning in his eyes, Heeseung unleashes his pent-up desire upon you, each thrust a savage declaration of his dominance. The weight of his body presses you into the mattress, his strength undeniable as he takes complete control.
His fingers dig into the soft flesh of your hips, leaving faint crescent-shaped marks in their wake, tangible evidence of his possession. Every time he thrusts, he claims you anew, his relentless rhythm driving you to the edge of sanity and pleasure.
The sound of your mingled moans fills the air, a symphony of ecstasy and pain as he pushes you to the brink and pulls you back again. Your senses are overwhelmed by the scent of sweat and sex, the slick friction of your bodies moving together in perfect synchrony.
You’ve got a pussy that could even make demons pray, Heeseung thinks to himself. He could watch you all day, how your cunt swallows him like its sole purpose was to please his cock. But as much as he likes the shape of your body as he takes you from behind, he longs to see that pretty face of yours when you cum.
Heeseung flips you onto your back, pinning you beneath him as he continues to ravish you with unrestrained passion, his hands pressing hard on your waist. Your head spins as the world shifts, your back now pressed firmly against the mattress, every inch of your skin tingling with anticipation.
His eyes fixate on your bouncing tits, a wolfish grin spreading across his lips as he watches them with rapt attention. His tongue darts out to wet his lips, instinct taking over as he becomes entranced by the sight of your pretty mounds.
"You're so fucking gorgeous,” his voice husky with desire as he reaches out to caress your soft skin, his touch setting your nerves ablaze with longing. He seems so gentle right now, like the demon inside him has subsided. You cherish the tiny glimpses of his vulnerability, knowing they come few and far between.
The tender moment doesn’t last long though as he quickens his pace once more, the bed beneath you squeaking and whimpering along with you.
Suddenly, his hand finds its way between your legs, his fingers deftly seeking out your clit. A sharp gasp escapes your lips as pleasure shoots through you, but before you can protest, his touch becomes too much, too overwhelming.
"It's too much," you whimper, trying to push his hand away, but he only presses harder, his grip unyielding. "Please, Heeseung, it's too-"
"Shut up," he interrupts, his voice firm and devilish as he continues to play with you, driving you closer to the edge with each relentless stroke. "You love it, and you know it."
And you do, you love it so much more than you can even describe. Your body stiffens as you feel yourself about to experience your nth orgasm. Honestly, you’ve lost track of how many it is now, the whole night blending into one big bout of pleasure.
You arch your back as his bell strokes right along your soft spot, causing a wave of ecstasy to wash over you, your mouth opens as you let out an earth-shattering cry, “Holy fuck, Heeseung!”
But he shows no signs of slowing down, his movements becoming even more relentless as he drives you closer and closer to the edge. And then, with a primal roar, you feel it - the sudden, intense release as pleasure explodes within you, shooting through your body like a bolt of lightning.
Heeseung thinks, no, he knows this is what heaven looks like, it has to be; the way your body opens up as wide as it can go, laying yourself bare like this while chanting a ritual of profanities. You look like you’re being exorcised and it’s so fucking hot to him.
What he takes a minute to notice though, is how his stomach and arm are being covered in your release, pouring out of you so perfectly as you bathe him in your essence. You’re squirting for him.
Smirking, he doesn’t let up the flicks to your clit or the pointed thrusts into your pussy, he wants to see how long this can last.
As you thrash beneath him, Heeseung lifts your hips higher with his left arm, driving into you with even greater force, his movements relentless as he seeks to elicit every last drop of pleasure from you. With each thrust, your juices flow even more freely, coating him in a slick sheen of your arousal.
"Holy hell, Baby," he breathes, a smirk playing on his lips as he watches you squirm beneath him. "Look at you baptising me."
He chuckles to himself, the sound a mix of amusement and arousal as he revels in the sensation of being drenched in your ecstasy. If this was the holy water people spoke about, he might just turn up to church every Sunday.
The tears falling from your eyes at the overstimulation tell him it’s time to drive it home, to finally let go and satisfy his own needs once again. Slowly, he shifts his weight, positioning himself for the final act of surrender. With each deliberate movement, he inches closer to the edge, his desire burning fiercely as he prepares to claim what is rightfully his.
Entering you once more, he relishes in the sensation of your heat enveloping him, drawing him deeper into the abyss of pleasure. Each thrust brings him closer to the brink, his senses ablaze, and just like that, he is cumming inside of you, shooting ropes of his white seed deep into your womb.
You open your eyes to catch a glimpse of him, unable to get a good visual last time with his cock stuffed deep into your throat. You expect to see his vulnerability as with climaxes comes a complete lack of control, but you see something far different to your imagination.
His eyes are clouded with red, like he’s rolling his pupils so far back that you’re looking straight into his demon entity, like you can see the Prince of Hell in his true form. In some sick way, you don’t think he has looked more beautiful. He moans loudly but his voice is deeper, more threatening than usual, yet you find yourself reaching for his face, his allure drawing you in further than ever before.
His aura is dark and cloying, yet there's a slight change within him the second your fingertips brush his face. As if your touch can soothe the storm within him, the whirling black and crimson cloud that envelops him appears to diminish. He closes his eyes as he gives in to the calming effect of your touch.
Never before in his life has he met someone who could have such an effect on him. Although he is in control at this very moment, he is well aware that your power could render him defenceless with just a single gesture.
Guiding him, you pull his face down to you as you kiss him softly, breathing your life into him gently which he gladly accepts. As the kiss deepens, he shifts you gently, urging you to rest your head on his pillow, eliciting a soft sigh from you as you comply, sinking into the comfort of the mattress beneath you. He continues to explore your lips with a playful urgency, teasing you as you chase his elusive kisses.
“Heeseung-” you whine out but it barely makes audio waves as the fucking your throat received and the screams that ripped from your chest make it hard to talk.
Bringing his hand up to your throat, he applies gentle pressure, his touch like a soothing balm against the burning sensation. With each stroke of his fingers, the tension in your voice box begins to ease, the discomfort gradually fading away beneath his tender ministrations.
Heeseung meets your gaze with a fond intensity, sliding his cock out slowly as he shifts his body to create a space for you to lay your head on his chest. His arms wrap securely around you and he cradles you close, the steady rhythm of your heartbeat returning.
"If you want this life," he starts, his stare fixed on you, "Let me give it to you." He promises you the future your spirit so desperately desires with a voice that is both powerful and supple, promising support and unfaltering devotion.
There's a part of you that yearns to leap up and accept, drawn to the allure of the life he promises. Yet, you can hear a distant warning of whispers in the recesses of your mind, reminding you of the consequences of such a choice. You can't ignore the lessons learned from Soonyeol's fate, knowing that trading one form of captivity for another may not be the answer. She is happy right now but for how long could she possibly stay that way?
"Y/N?" Jaeyun's voice breaks through the haze, its urgency slicing through the intimate moment with Heeseung. It reverberates down the halls, each bounce signalling his approach, yet the vastness of the mansion keeps him at a distance, prolonging the inevitable interruption.
You tear yourself away from Heeseung’s grip, sitting up as you dare not to look at him, “I can’t have this life, Heeseung. This belongs to Soonyeol.”
As you move to get up and dress, Heeseung grips your face, forcing you to meet his gaze. His eyes bore into yours, studying you with an intensity that leaves your soul feeling exposed, laid bare before him.
"Say the word and she's gone, baby," he murmurs, his voice low and determined. The fondness and devotion he once held for his minder seem to fade into the background as he tries to persuade you to stay.
Your eyes widen in disbelief at his implication; how could he suggest getting rid of Soonyeol so easily, especially someone who gave their soul to him? While he may believe it's what you want to hear, his words only serve to deepen your doubts about his loyalty and commitment. If he can toss her aside, how quickly will it take him to move on from you?
Pulling his hand from your face, you hold it against your chest, “You told me you don’t break your promises, Heeseung,” you gently confront him. Yet, as you look into his eyes, you see sincerity within them, making you question whether he means his words to you.
“Y/N? Where are you?” Jaeyun shouts once again, panic in his vocals.
“Let me give you your desires,” Heeseung’s lips upturn as he watches your brain fight itself between yielding and defying your urges.
“Y/N? Can you answer me?”
“Come on, Y/N, say it. Tell me you want this.”
“Please answer me!”
Your body instinctively leans into Heeseung's touch, drawn in by the intensity of his gaze as he strokes your cheek with a gentle caress. It's as if you're caught in a trance, captivated by the magnetic pull of his presence.
But even as you feel yourself slipping under his spell, the echo of Jaeyun's pleas reverberates in your mind and with a jolt, you force yourself to pull away from the Prince's enchanting hold, breaking free from the spell he's woven around you.
“I don’t want this,” you push Heeseung away, your heart beating quickly as you realise what you have almost done, the distance from his touch giving you a sense of clarity, dispelling the fog of desire that clouded your judgement. “This is Soonyeol’s life, not mine. I won’t trade in one hell for another.”
Heeseung's eyes flash with anger for a fleeting moment, a storm brewing behind his gaze. But just as quickly as it comes, he reigns in his emotions, the tempest within him subsiding as he regains his composure.
“Fine. Don’t stay. But let me make these two weeks you have left count,” his signature smug expression returns as though you hadn’t seen the soul behind the demon a mere 10 minutes ago.
_____
Packing your bag, a heavy weight settles over you, dragging you down as you come to terms with the reality that this is the end. Two months of fear, lust, adoration, and anxiety swirl together in a tumultuous cocktail of emotions, each one vying for dominance as you prepare to bid farewell to it all.
With each item you place into your bag, it’s as if you’re emptying a foreign version of yourself. You know when you go home you’ll wear these same clothes and brush your hair with the same bristles, but it won’t be you anymore.
Maybe you should have taken Heeseung up on his offer.
Or perhaps this is the start of a new chapter for you. This new identity you feel surging inside your veins might help you navigate the big bad world a little easier.
Feeling a pair of arms encircle you from behind, you instinctively lean into Jaeyun's embrace, his presence offering a sense of solace amidst the uncertainty. His chin rests on your shoulder, his nose tickling the skin of your neck as he nuzzles closer, seeking comfort in your embrace.
"Please don't go, Y/N. I need you," he whispers, his voice trembling with emotion. The vulnerability in his words pierces through your own turmoil, reminding you of the depth of his feelings and the pain of letting go.
At that moment, as you stand entwined together, you both understand the weight of the connection that binds you. It's more than just the physical intimacy you've shared; it's a bond forged throughout your two months here. Everyone can see it, feel it - the undeniable truth that your relationship transcends mere physical attraction.
But you need to let him go.
"You don't need me, Baby doll," you murmur softly, your voice tinged with resignation. "You've got Soonyeol. She will look after you just like before."
As the words leave your lips, a sorrowful cloud settles over you, the reality of your impending departure sinking in. Despite the pain of leaving Jaeyun behind, you find solace in the knowledge that he won't be alone, that someone will be there to care for him in your absence.
But even as you try to reassure him, a part of you can't shake the feeling of loss that grips your heart. Though Soonyeol may provide comfort and support, you know that your absence will leave a void that can't be easily filled.
Sunghoon hugs you both from the side, his sudden presence a comfort. Even after you discovered that he was a demon, you knew deep down he wasn’t a terrible soul, he was just trapped in bad circumstances, forced to live a life he hated. There is evil within him, that much is true, but he wouldn’t use it haphazardly or indiscriminately.
“I’ll miss you too, baby girl. More than I think I’d like to admit,” he confesses, squeezing you and Jaeyun tight in his arms.
“Y/N, can I speak to you for a moment?” Jongseong’s voice rings loud in your temporary room, causing you and your boys to break apart. Tenderly kissing each of them goodbye, they gracefully exit the room, leaving you alone with Jongseong, granting you both the privacy needed for your conversation.
"What's up? Gonna miss me?" you tease, playfully punching Jongseong's shoulder.
Jongseong chuckles, a hint of sadness in his eyes as he nods. "More than you'll know...but I need to tell you something."
The playful banter fades away, replaced by a solemn atmosphere that settles between you. The air grows heavy with anticipation as you wait for Jongseong to speak, sensing that whatever he has to say is of great importance.
Taking a deep breath, Jongseong meets your gaze with a mix of concern and determination. "Y/N, I need you to do something for me," he begins, his voice steady despite the weight of his request.
"What is it?" you inquire, your curiosity piqued by the seriousness in his tone.
Jongseong hesitates for a moment before speaking, his words measured and deliberate. "I need you to talk to Heeseung," he says, his expression earnest, "Ask him to untether Jaeyun from Soonyeol."
“What? Why?”
“Heeseung told you Jaeyun’s story, right? How he was supposed to be a guardian?” Jongseong's eyebrows raise expectantly, his gaze searching your face for understanding. Slowly, you nod, though confusion clouds your features. Sighing, Jongseong clasps his hands together as he continues, “I think…somehow…he is supposed to be your guide, your guardian angel.”
Jaeyun? Your guardian angel? A mighty laugh leaves your lips as you think he’s pulling some sick joke, but he is not laughing, not even a hint of mischief playing around on his expression. He is deadly serious here.
“Wait…what? But aren’t guardian angels assigned at like, birth or something?” you question, not wrapping your mind around the idea just yet.
Jongseong nods thoughtfully, his expression grave. "Yes, traditionally, that's how it works," he replies, his tone tinged with uncertainty, "But sometimes, fate has a way of... rearranging things. Guardian angels can also be soulmates in the realm of living.”
You lean back, trying to process this new information. "So, you’re now telling me that Jaeyun is my soulmate? So which is he?"
“Well, when he died it was sudden and tragic, no one saw it coming. It wasn’t planned the way God intended and that day you lost your soulmate. But you were meant to gain your angel that day…until Heeseung pulled him away.”
The weight of Jongseong's words hangs heavily in the air, sinking deep into your consciousness. A sense of disbelief washes over you as you try to comprehend the implications of his revelation. Jaeyun, your soulmate? The idea seems both surreal and profound, challenging everything you thought you knew about love and destiny.
There is no denying the connection you have but it all seems more outlandish than the library having a fire telephone to ring hell up and have a gab.
Jongseong feels your body overcoming with contemplation and questioning his words, so he jumps in. “All the signs are there, Princess. The connection you both have, how you can feel one another's emotions, Jaeyun has even been telling me he feels like there is a string pulling him to you.”
“A string?”
"Mhm, It is what binds a guardian angel to their human, and when you leave, it will shatter, just like your heart, and you will both be in such agony that it will swallow you whole," he says solemnly, his voice tinted with his personal experiences, "Trust me, I know it better than anyone."
Jongseong and Soonyeol…their string must have been broken once he was banished from being her guide. As you look at the sadness etched across his face, you know you never want to experience the pain they both must have felt.
“I don’t want to let him go, but he belongs here with Soonyeol. Heeseung told me how she needed him too,” you whisper, your voice barely above a murmur as you confess your inner anguish.
He feels your pain and inwardly cries for you. Gently, he uses two of his fingers to lift your chin, his eyes boring into yours as he pleads with you. “YOU need him, Sweetheart, just like he needs you. Please, grant me permission to speak to Heeseung on your behalf, I’ll sort something out with him, okay?”
His words resonate deep within you, stirring a sense of hope amidst the despair. Maybe Jongseong could convince Heeseung somehow. Perhaps your time spent with Heeseung over the past two weeks would count for something. After all, there had been moments of connection and understanding between you, moments that hinted at a deeper bond than he would probably like to admit.
But then doubt creeps in. Would Heeseung truly consider your feelings in his decision? Or would he give you the same ultimatum he had given before - stay and he would rid this house and the boys of Soonyeol, without a second thought?
You suppose you have to try, right?
“Talk to him, but only if Jaeyun wants to, this is his decision too.”
_____
As the sound of Soonyeol’s car driving up the gravel path reaches your ears, it feels like her tyres are rolling over your heart. Standing with your bags packed, you glance at the boys, each of them sitting in their dining room seats, ready to take on their doll personas once again. Each of their gazes says something different, but sorrow is evident.
“I’ll miss you guys,” you pout, unable to suppress the sadness that tugs at your heartstrings. Fiddling with the hem of your t-shirt, you try to mask the ache of impending departure with a feeble attempt at a smile. But the weight of the moment looms, casting a shadow over the room as you prepare to say goodbye to the home and the family you've come to cherish.
“We’ll miss you too, baby girl,” Sunghoon smiles softly, his hand reaching out to grasp yours one last time, a silent reassurance amidst the impending farewell.
Jaeyun's expression is heavy with heartache, his eyes pleading with you to stay, but you can't bear to meet his gaze. You know that Jongseong's talk with Heeseung didn't go as hoped, and the disappointment hangs thick in the air, making your departure that much more difficult.
Suddenly, Jaeyun stands up, his movements swift as he storms over to you. Without a word, he pulls you into a passionate kiss, his hands cradling your cheeks as he pours all his love and longing into the embrace. In that fleeting moment, time seems to stand still, the world falling away as you lose yourself in the warmth of his touch, savouring the taste of his lips against yours.
You hug him tightly, forcing the lump in your throat to retreat back to your stomach, cherishing this last moment.
“Jaeyun, get back in your seat, Soonyeol will be here any minute,” Heeseung warns, his voice pulling you both from your moment.
As Jaeyun's lips leave yours, the air between you crackles with unspoken emotions. His stare is intense, searching yours for any way he can stay with you. But you can only offer him a small, sad smile, knowing that your time together is slipping away with each passing second.
The thing that hurts the most is that Jaeyun has no clue that he is your soulmate or was supposed to be your guardian angel, he just thinks he’s losing your love when in fact, he’s losing part of his soul that you’ll take with you.
“I gave you my number, yeah? Give me a call anytime you can,” you mutter into his lips, finally stepping back to let him go back to the life he knows.
Within a second of Jaeyun taking his place, Soonyeol comes through the door, a gleeful smile plastered on her face as he looks straight at her dolls. It’s evident that she’s missed them but then again, who wouldn’t? You know as soon as you leave here you’re going to have a hole in your heart, pieces of it left with each one of them - even Heeseung.
Turning, she looks at you sceptically, noting the off atmosphere in the room but you don’t allow her a second to ponder it, interjecting as she goes to speak. “So, Soonyeol, how was your trip?”
“Oh, it was excellent! Just a few bits and bobs to tidy up.” She avoids divulging your curiosity. It’s clear her business was either extremely mundane to the point that there was nothing to tell you about, or that she is still harbouring a secret from you. To be honest, you think you’re done snooping and uncovering secrets for the rest of your life.
Ignorance might just be bliss.
She rummages her tote bag in search of a brown envelope, which she gladly hands you, “Here is everything, I counted it 5 times so it should be right,” you marvel at the wad of cash in your hand. Never in your life have you seen this much money in one go, it’s truly amazing. “How were my boys? I hope they didn’t cause too much trouble.”
“Like they were never here,” you lie, smiling softly which eases Soonyeol’s mind.
“Thank you so much, Y/N. I can tell you’ve done a wonderful job here, I can’t thank you enough!” she beams as she looks longingly into Heeseung’s eyes. There is a spark of adoration between them that makes you smile, although you do want to warn her that he would have literally killed her if you asked him to.
Again, ignorance is bliss.
Gathering your belongings, you give the dolls one last look over, feeling a pang of sadness at the thought of leaving them behind. With a heavy sigh, you turn to Soonyeol, offering her a small, grateful smile.
"It was a pleasure, Soonyeol. Thank you for trusting me enough to look after them and this house," you say, your voice overcome with sincerity.
Soonyeol returns your smile, her expression warm and genuine. "If I ever need anyone again, you will be first on my call list," she replies, her words carrying a sense of appreciation for your dedication.
You bid farewell to the house and the memories it holds as you trudge through the long hallways. You can't help but feel a sense of gratitude for the experiences you've shared and the bonds you've formed. You’ll miss them all so dearly that it hurts you to even turn your back on them, but you know it’s for the best.
Carting your suitcase along the gravel, you catch sight of your car sitting patiently, a thin layer of dust coating its surface from the weeks it's spent waiting for your return. You had given up on cleaning it a while ago, unable to bear the reminders that your departure was imminent.
With a heavy heart, you click the boot open and shove your suitcase inside, the action punctuated by the force with which you slam it shut. Each motion is filled with a mix of sadness and frustration, emotions that have been simmering beneath the surface.
“Y/N, wait!” The familiar voice cuts through the air, causing your heart to skip a beat. Turning around, you're met with a sight that fills you with both hope and trepidation.
Your heart quickens in your chest as you spot Jaeyun darting towards you, his face a blend of determination and urgency. Without hesitation, he closes the distance between you in a few rapid strides, his fingers reaching out to ensnare yours.
In an instant, he envelops you in his embrace, his lips descending upon yours in a sudden, fervent kiss. Time appears to halt as the world fades into the background, leaving only the two of you entwined in a whirlwind of emotion.
The kiss is a whirlwind of emotion, a testament to the depth of your connection, leaving you both breathless and exhilarated.
As you pull away, a sense of urgency floods through you, prompting you to glance back at the house with a surge of panic. "Jaeyun, go back inside. Soonyeol-"
But before you can finish, Jaeyun interrupts with a bright smile, his arms still wrapped around you protectively, "I'm coming with you," he declares, punctuating his words with a gentle kiss on your nose.
Your eyes widen in disbelief, confusion swirling in your mind, "But I thought Heeseung said no?" you ask, searching Jaeyun's face for reassurance.
Jaeyun nods, holding you tight to him, “He said he was just waiting for Soonyeol, to ask if she would let me go and she said yes, can you believe it?”
No. No, you really can’t.
Then again, you know from your time with Heeseung and the box of cherished memories between him and Soonyeol that he really does do everything for her. If she wanted to keep Jaeyun then Heeseung would never dream of cutting the tie between the younger and his minder.
A wave of relief washes over you, mingled with a sense of wonder at the unexpected turn of events. In that moment, you realise that your happy ending isn't just a distant dream - it's within reach, waiting for you to seize it.
Glancing back at the house, you spot the others standing at the door, their figures framed by the warm glow of the sun. Soonyeol stands among them, her expression a mix of fondness and understanding, a knowing grin playing at the corners of her lips as she waves you off. She doesn’t look upset at the boys for blowing the secret but rather happy that one of them found serenity with someone the way she has with this house, with the dolls.
Quite honestly, you thought she would have blown a gasket but she isn’t the evil overlord you pictured her to be, even after Heeseung’s story of how she just wanted away from her toxic family you thought she must be hiding something to go to such lengths; perhaps hurt them or worse. But she really is just a girl, looking to live a peaceful life with a family she chooses, not one picked for her by God.
It all makes sense, calling upon Heeseung, because she lost her faith in the divine. Even heaven banished Jongseong for being dedicated to his job which tore them apart, she just did what she had to do.
A pang of sadness washes over you as you realise you're leaving behind the friends who have become like family to you. Each of them holds a piece of your heart, and the thought of saying goodbye, tugs at your emotions.
But as you turn to face Jaeyun, his hand clasped firmly in yours and that puppy-like smile plastered on his face, a sense of peace settles over you. With him by your side, you know you'll be okay.
Besides, who says you can’t pop back for a visit?
taglist: @nshmrarki @kgneptun @addictedtohobi @parksunghoonsgf @chaewonshoney @chiiiiiiiiis @lilyuwon @rayofsunshineeee @moon7jay @erehkinnie30 @brownsugarbaybee @minniejenseo @woninluv @jaysluvs @fakeuwus @capri-cuntz @ash024 @who-tf-soddhi @bambangan @vousty @heeseungspookie @alvojake @yorukoshii @haechonly @riftanswhore @emi-en @branchrkive @featjunranghae @thejjrl @nyxtwixx @sunghoonnsupremacy @nctislifue @itsnikitty @enhypenlovre
#enhypen smut#enha smut#enhypen x reader#enha x reader#enhypen fic#heeseung smut#heeseung x reader#tdh#aj writes
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For the Kids
I believe you used to be 🤍 nonnie, I remember seeing that emoji around~ I'm glad you're back! There won't be much mention of medical stuff because I'm nowhere close to being a nurse, but I hope this is what you were looking for, nonnie!
❣ Summary: This visit was for the kids, so why did Chris find himself vying for a Pediatric nurse's attention? ❣
❣ Word Count: 1.9k
❣ Warnings: No medical terms, Idol! AU, Pediatric Nurse! Reader, fluff, slight humor, flirting, open ended ❣
❣ Female! Reader | You/Your pronouns ❣
❣ Additional Tags: Chan is referred to as Mr. Bang, Chris, and Christopher, Reader is referred to as Beautiful, lightly edited
❣ Stray Kids Masterlist ❣ General Masterlist
“I’ll let the nurse guiding you know that you've arrived, please wait here.”
Chris nodded enthusiastically as the nurse working behind the front desk turned away to grab a phone, turning his attention to listen to his manager and a few Skijigi discussing the schedule for the day.
This event was something the members had looked forward to ever since they were allowed to add one more Stay-centered event to their log of the year; the day they ventured out to meet hospitalized children Stays to give them an experience they wouldn't get to see naturally.
He'd decided to show up early in hopes of getting to meet the kids who weren’t able to make the time bracket due to an appointment or operation - the rest of the members scheduled to show up within the next hour and a half, according to his manager.
“Mr. Bang?”
He turned toward the unfamiliar voice, and the equally unfamiliar use of his last name, only to feel as if his world had gone into slow motion.
Walking up to him was a nurse, a fair assessment judging by the scrubs you wore, with a smile that made his heart skip a beat - part of him wondered if he’d have to check himself into a hospital based on his reaction alone; and when you introduced yourself he swore he heard bells ringing, your name suddenly becoming his favorite sound.
“Welcome to Seoul Mercy Hospital, I’ll be one of the nurses working with you guys today.”
“Hi,” smiling in earnest, he cleared his throat, his posture straightening ever so slightly, “and just Chris is fine, ‘Mr. Bang’ feels too formal, you know?”
Your smile grew, a small laugh floating through you, “Is ‘Chan’ too formal, too?”
“No, no, Chan is perfectly fine, too - you can call me whatever you’d like.”
Chris tried his best to ignore how suggestive the sentence sounded, but judging from the way you pressed your lips together, you’d already caught the unintentional double entendre.
“Okay, Chris,” a glimmer of humor sparkled in your eyes, teasing and warm - comfortable, “if you’ll follow me, I can give you a quick tour of the area you’ll be using today before we go see the kids.”
The tour was short, yet fulfilling; the brisk walk of the hall bringing him to the play room booked for them to use decorated in Skzoo memorabilia with the life size standees wearing makeshift doctor outfits - there was even a table that stretched along a wall filled with Skzoo plushies and gift bags undoubtedly prepared by Skijigi.
“They’re so cute!” He squealed happily, petting WolfChan- Doctor WolfChan’s head as if he were a real dog, “Do the kids have any idea of what’s happening?”
“Well, of course they know that Stray Kids are coming to the hospital, but we haven’t told them how the whole afternoon will go just yet - we’d like to keep some things a secret, you know?” You gently caressed the soft fur of the Dwaekki standee, gazing at the decorated room with a fondness in your eyes, “This really means the world to them, and we tried our best to make it as grand as possible.”
A warm feeling settled in Chris’s chest, and he had to take a quick breath to dispel the heat from warming the rest of his body in turn. “If that’s the case, I hope that we can help make their day just a little bit brighter - and, hopefully, the nurses’ day too.”
You smiled, catching his eyes, “Trust me, you’re way ahead on that goal.”
It wasn’t long until the rest of the members began to show up, everyone slowly filling the break room specifically reserved for their visit while managers and nurses coordinated bringing the kids into the Skzoo Hospital before revealing their bigger surprise.
Being one of the lead pediatric nurses on duty, you did your part in ushering the line of children from their rooms and into the playroom - catching a glance of a certain leader as he sneakily peeked through the crack of the break room’s door, watching as the little kids spoke excitedly amongst themselves.
Soon the room was filled with children excitedly taking in the decorations and standees, and after a brief moment of gathering and pep-talking from your coworkers, the grand reveal commenced - the eight idols entering the room to excited cheers and applause. Managers ensured the small recording crew caught every reaction and the surprise performance the boys had prepared, before your shift lead announced that the members would be splitting into groups to play and spend time with the kids in Skzoo Hospital.
From small tables arranged for arts and crafts to a controlled space for duck, duck, goose, the activities were enough to keep both the children and the kids irrevocably entertained.
Chris was having a riveting conversation with one of the children at the art station about the best color to draw with when he felt a tug at his shirt, turning his head to see a little girl - who’d happily introduced herself as Narae - holding a sheet of paper with a smile as bright as the sun.
“Wanna see my drawing?”
He smiled at her small, excited little bounces and nodded, “Of course! What is it?”
Turning her paper around, tiny fingers pointed to the colorful figures on the page, “This is me and Leebit picking flowers, I have a yellow flower because it’s my favorite color, and over here is PuppyM wearing a flower crown- Oh, and here is Nurse Y/n having a picnic with WolfChan! She’s my favorite nurse, and he’s her favorite Skzoo, so I drew them together!”
The innocent mention of his representative plush being your favorite sent his heart rate skyrocketing, and he could feel a sheepish blush beginning to take over his ears as he studied the drawing.
“She says he has a cute tail, but I think Leebit’s tail is cuter because it’s fluffy like a bunny,” Narae mumbled, turning her paper around as if inspecting it. “My friend says Bbokari has a cuter tail, but chickens don’t have tails! They have chicken butts!”
Stifling a laugh, he grinned, “You know what? You should go ask Felix if Bbokari has a tail or a chicken butt, he knows all about him.”
She gave him a quick nod before rushing off toward the dancer, determined to get her point proven, leaving Chris to grapple with this newfound knowledge; picking up a crayon and a piece of paper to draw with the children around him.
Eventually the little meet and greet came to an end, the boys handing out the small gift bags to the children who were able to make the event while some of the kids gifted their drawings to the members in return.
With a chorus of ‘thank you’s and well wishes, you led the idol group back to the break room while your coworkers busied themselves with organizing the children to be ushered back into their rooms for the evening.
“I’m never going to let you live down the fact that you actually lost at duck, duck, goose to a kid, Felix,” Seungmin laughed mockingly, the blond’s demise putting a glittering smile on his face.
“Hey! Dohyeon is really fast for his age, okay? I wasn’t going to try to beat a child at a silly little game!”
“I would,” Minho hummed as he passed by the duo, grabbing a bottle of water from the small refreshments table, “teach them early - life isn’t fair.”
“Hyung!”
Chris let out a heavy sigh as the chaos of his members slowly grew, though his anguish was quickly curbed by the sound of your laughter, poorly hidden behind your hand.
Making his way over to you, he nodded his head toward his friends, “I’m sorry about them.”
You waved his apology off with your hand, shaking your head, “Don’t be, that just means you guys had fun - I’m sure the children did too, I haven’t seen their faces light up like that in a while.”
“Yeah? Well, I’m glad we were able to make their day a bit more special.”
His voice was soft, earnest with a sparkle in his eyes and you felt a small flutter float through you as you hummed in affirmation.
“And a few of the nurses, too, it’s not often that we get visitors like you guys who have the time to come by and do little things like this, it means a lot to us.”
“You know,” he hummed, leaning his shoulder against the wall, “I learned something interesting while talking to one of the kids today.”
Raising an eyebrow, you couldn’t help the fleeting sense of worry tug at your psyche from his curious tone. “Did you? And what would that be, Chris?”
“Well, let’s just say, if you want anything WolfChan themed, I’d be more than happy to get it for you.” A smug smirk began to tug at his lips, his voice lowering to a volume only you could catch, “And, if he were real, I think you’d be his favorite, too.”
Your eyes widened a fraction as a wave of embarrassment washed over you, though you recovered with narrowed eyes, “Which one of those rascals told you that?”
“Hey - my lips are sealed!” He chuckled, holding his hands up in moc defense, though the playful shine in his eyes remained. “I’m just the messenger here.”
Nodding slowly, you pursed your lips in thought, “Alright, then what about you?”
“What about me?”
“Well, since you’re real and WolfChan isn’t,” your voice trailed off as you tilted your head inquisitively, “am I your favorite?”
You weren’t sure where the sudden burst of confidence came from, but he’d started the teasing act first, so it was only fair that you played with him at his own game.
Chris bristled at the sudden question, his posture straightening just a bit as his eyes searched yours for any sign of encouragement, a warmth setting over him as the corner of your lip ticked up in challenge.
“My favorite, hm?” He pondered for a moment, tapping his chin before glancing at you with a sparkle that had your heart fluttering, “I’d say there’s no contest, but I’d rather have more time to really figure it out, you know?”
“Is that a proposition, Christopher?”
“It’s a promise, if you’d let me.”
Stepping forward just an inch, you couldn’t fight the smile working its way onto your lips, “I would, but I don’t like when people can’t fulfill their promises.”
“Then it’s a good thing I don’t plan on breaking this one.” He murmured as he leaned forward the same amount, though his entire being begged to close the distance to feel your lips on his. “How about it then, beautiful?”
“Chan hyung! We’ve gotta go soon!”
Your heart sunk at the warning call, looking at him before giving a firm nod, “It’s a deal, but-”
“Don’t worry,” digging into his pocket, he pulled out a neatly folded piece of paper before slyly sliding it into your hand, “we’ll figure out the details, yeah? Patient-nurse confidentiality, and all that.”
Giggling, you tried to ignore the way his hand felt in yours, melting at the warmth he radiated, “Of course, completely confidential.”
He grinned, letting his hand slip from yours he ducked his head in a silent goodbye, “See you later?”
“See you soon.” You reassured him with a glittering smile, watching as he reunited with the rest of his members and management team and joining them in whatever discussion they were wrapping up with.
Taking the chance to unfold the paper he gave to you, your eyes quickly read the numbers neatly scribbled in blue crayon, followed by a cute doodle of WolfChan’s face and a short message.
‘P.S. I think you have a cute butt, too - Chris’
✧. ��Tagged lovelies: @having-an-internal-crisis-rn, @midnightfrog625, @anyhow-everything, @bangchanbabygirlx, @sweetracha, @nightimescapes , @caitlyn98s , @ch4nn13luv , @ihrtlix , @jeonjungkookenthusiast1997 , @maximumkillshot , @y-ur--i , @acker-night , @dreamescapeswriting , @specialstay , @s00buwu , @tinyelfperson , @jj-stay , @katsukis1wife , @inlovewithmusician , @keen-li , @armystay89 , @main-character0 , @vampcharxter , @ddyskz , @prettymiye0n , @bbgnyx , @bahng-chrizz , @milknhoneyracha , @hann1bee , @palindrome969 , @newhope8 , @luminouskalopsia , @kpopsstuffs , @starquokka , @wolfs-howling , @laylasbunbunny , @zaethefangirl, @chxnb97, @4-chan-inpadella , @butterflydemons ,
✧. ┊If your username is in bold italics that means tumblr won't let me tag you. If you’d like to be added to the taglist, fill out this form!
#skz smut#stray kids smut#bang chan x reader#bang chan smut#skz fluff#stray kids fluff#bang chan fluff
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♡˗ˏ✎*ೃ˚ 𝔻𝕣𝕒𝕘𝕠𝕟 𝕝𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕣 ₊˚ˑ༄
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ anon request: Could I request Kaeya, Neuvillette, Ayato, and Wriothesley with a dragon s/o?
Also, how are you?
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ Yeah!! I kinda sillies in Kaeya's part but I hope it's not a problem- Either way, I'm good! Snd you~? ^^
Hope you like what I wrote hehe
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ fluff
✧ Kaeya noticed dragon-like looking person when he was walking back home from Angel's Share, so naturally, he thoughts it's alcohol doing...
✧ but who is he to decline his fate? He came up and complimented your features anyway, sure tomorrow he'll see you as normal citizen
✧ from your end, you noticed the man was obviously under influence of alcohol but he wasn't harmful... so you let the conversation go the way you wanted~
✧ and when on next day he discovers it wasn't him tripping... well.. he's glad to have such an interesting friend! Because unless you push him away, he's not gonna back away from this friendship!
"My my~ It's rare to see someone so pretty! That tail must be really heavy, huh? Want me to hold it for you?"
✧ but if you two are lovers and he sees your real form by mistake... he'll be freezed for a second... hehe get it? Because in his ult he- ehem.. sorry..
✧ but when he sees you panicking, he immidietly chuckles and assures you while caressing your cheek with his hand gently and maybe flirt while he's at it as well~
"Why would I ever think you're a monster when you're as stunning as always, my darling? Maybe even more~ This "scary look" definitely makes you look even more lovable~"
﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌
@bleachtheidiot @toyaswif3y - come get your cavalry capitan~
✧ Ayato, being head of Kamisato Clan, is always trying to be as respectful as possible, be it if you come from different region or aren't human... as long as you're friendly and give him respect back, he'd be happy to chat
✧ but dragons in Inazuma are still rarely seen... so when he noticed you on his walk, he tried approaching you with a soft look
✧ he honestly just wishes to get to know you and maybe realize the difference between human and dragons behavior... and who knows? Maybe he'll get to know even more if he plays his cards right?
"Good evening. I'm sorry it I started you, I just noticed your... rare beauty and wondered if you'd be interested in a little chat?"
✧ tho if you're already partners and you happened to hide your real form well... he'll be even more interested...
✧ how did you manage to hide it from him for so long? He's curious to me know this and many more about you
✧ but if he sees you're stressing yourself over the fact he found out, he'll be quick to calm you down, assuring you he still loves you the same
"Please calm down... I don't see why you hid it in the first place... Did you really thought I wouldn't love you just because you have tail? If anything, I say you only expanded my interest in you~"
﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌
@bleachtheidiot - come get your boba lover!
✧ and so is Neuvillette~ he just has a bit of a better disguise while you're... walking proudly in your form... and that's alright!
✧ if you can be easily found on streets, he'll be happy to see another dragon friend and will probably even approach you himself
✧ Charlotte definitely saw you two interacting at some point, especially since Neuvillette is a big person, but of course she asked first before publishing anything and it's up to you if you were in the news or not!
✧ but if you prefer hiding in quieter places, there's still a chance he found you and yob two chatted either way
✧ he'd probably come off as calm but in reality, he's pretty excited to finally meet another dragon with such a pleasent personality
"I find it quite surprising we haven't met untill today... I'd like to get to know you more if you don't mind."
✧ and if it happens you both are already dating when you spoil your secret identity~ believe me, he won't mind one single bit!
✧ he literally can't understand why you even tried hiding it from him when he already told you he's the same
✧ but don't worry, he's not mad, if anything he's gentle and tries his best to be reassuring
"Why were you afraid? Haven't I already revelead I'm the same? My love for you can't be broken, no matter who you turn out to be."
﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌
@bleachtheidiot @toyaswif3y - come get your otter judge~
✧ Wriothesley is already friends with Neuvillette and has pretty sharp eye and ear, there's no way he didn't know his friend is a dragon
✧ so when he got our of Fortress of Meropide to get some work done and saw a dragon, of course he was surprised since seeing one is rare, but he also didn't care to make a scene
✧ he probably ignored you letting you live your life since there was no reason for him to interrupt anything, unless... you're wandering around terrains, the he may
"Excuse me, you may want to keep away from these terrains. You may be taken as a prisoner running away by mistake."
✧ and if you already were his partner, I feel like he'd hear some stories from his dragon friend already... so he'd joke that you act like some dragons in the stories, turning out to be... half joke...
✧ but when you finally reveal the truth to him, he doesn't mind at all! The only thing that changed is the way he may tease you from time to time but that's it
"Walking around in your true form for once? Glad you're comfy. But watch out for your tail or it'll knock down something."
﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌
@bleachtheidiot @toyaswif3y - come get your teddybear duke~
#genshin impact#genshin#x reader#genshin x reader#genshin impact x reader#kaeya#ayato#neuvillette#wriothesley#kamisato ayato#kaeya x reader#ayato x reader#neuvillette x reader#wriothesley x reader#genshin kaeya#genshin ayato#genshin neuvilette#genshin wriothesley#genshin kaeya x reader#genshin ayato x reader#genshin neuvillette x reader#genshin wriothesley x reader#fluff#genshin fluff#headcanons#genshin headcanons
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VERSION OF ME — (p. sunghoon)
"CAN YOU LOVE THE VERSION OF ME, I DON'T LET ANYBODY ELSE SEE?"
— MASTERLIST
pairing: sunghoon x fem reader (oneshot)
includes/warnings (16+): comfort/healing from dark past! au — fluff, angst, profanity, comfort, implied reader has scars, mentions of food/eating (let me know if i missed anything!)
word count: 1.8k [not proofread]
synopsis: you and sunghoon have been dating for a few months now and he is the definition of your prince charming. but you are finally forced to uncover what you've been hiding from him, and it makes you fear you’ll lose him.
DISCLAIMER: this fic does mention/imply reader has SH scars. it is mentioned without detail and sunghoon is comforting reader about them. *as someone who used to SH, i would never ever mean to trigger anyone. so if this could potentially trigger you, do not read/please proceed with caution.*
author’s note: omg thank you to everyone who read my 'obsessed' & 'intermission' AND for over 110 followers!
i hope you're all okay with this fic idea even its a little on the darker side. but i promise its fluffy n hoon is a sweetie. this one is dedicated to all of you out there who have overcome hardships in the past or dealing with hardships right now, with physical or mental scars. you are so strong, beautiful, and loved!! <3
VERSION OF ME SOUNDTRACK
it was yet the end of another long and arduous day at work. you dragged your feet into the doorway of your apartment, hanging up your bag on the hook in the entry way and removing your shoes that you could feel were forming blisters on your heels.
sighing, you make a beeline to your bedroom. nothing sounded better than a hot shower to change into some comfy clothes. well, maybe one thing sounded better.
cuddling with your boyfriend sunghoon. and his deep voice and hearty laugh. and his silly puns and dad jokes. and him getting so excited talking about film cameras. just—him.
you had never been one to be very clingy nor dependent with your boyfriends. you just valued your own time and pursuing your own goals, but that doesn't mean you care about them any less.
that's why when you and sunghoon started dating 4 months ago, you felt something click in that regard. he fully understood your introverted ways and wouldn't be like the previous guys and complain about feeling 'neglected' or that you were too cold because he knew exactly how it felt to need alone time/your own space and he respected it.
but even still, when you are together he treats you like an absolute princess. carrying your purse for you when you go shopping, opening the car door for you, standing on the side of the sidewalk that faces the street. he also emotionally cared for you, listening to you rant about things big and small and always reassuring you the day before you have a big presentation at work. you felt so deeply cared for and understood, it made your affection for him blossom even more every day.
today was a day that both you and sunghoon had busy schedules so you weren't going to see each other. but you missed him and wanted nothing more than his comforting presence to fill your currently empty apartment.
you made your way to the bathroom, removing your uncomfortable work clothes. as you stood there uncovered you caught sight of yourself in the mirror. you stared down at your arms, the dark marks that littered your skin. you knew you couldn't hide this from him forever.
before you could let any more negative thoughts consume you, you hopped into the shower hoping the hot water can wash away your stress and worries.
after your shower that probably lasted a little too long in some water that was probably a little too hot, you heard a knock at your front door. you peeked to the corner of your phone amidst the tik tok scrolling 10:38 pm.
considering how late it was you were suspicious so you tiptoed to the front door, glancing through the peep hole. it was sunghoon. even though you should feel giddy and excited at the sight of your boyfriend, a twinge of panic arose. you were just wearing a tshirt so your arms were fully exposed, not expecting company. you ran and grabbed the first hoodie you could find. it happened to be one of his.
you opened the front door and there sunghoon stood as handsome as ever, with a bouquet of flowers and a takeout bag. you pouted at the sight in front of you—you were the luckiest girl alive. this was exactly what you needed after a day like today.
"hi hoonie" you softly greeted him, gently hugging him and he leaned down to give you a peck on the cheek. "...what's all this?"
he spoke as he took off his shoes and made his way into the kitchen. "sorry for dropping by so suddenly, i knew weren't planning on seeing each other today but i knew you had a long day and you were gonna be home late so i thought you would want some food. it's your favorite from the restaurant downtown." you nearly started crying, how could be so sweet?
"don't be sorry. thank you, you are seriously the best hoon i missed you a lot today."
"i missed you too. just sit and relax baby, i'll plate everything up for you" sunghoon always insisted on plating food even if it was takeout. he believed it made it taste better, the notion always made you laugh.
despite offering to split the meal with him, he insisted he didn't want any saying he ate dinner earlier. but as you two sat at the dining table chatting about your day, you fed him forkful after forkful anyways.
after finishing the meal you convinced sunghoon to let you wash the dishes. he eventually complied, standing next to you at the sink drying the 3 total dishes you had to wash.
no matter how small the gesture sunghoon was willing to do anything and everything to make it easier for you. you were convinced he came straight out of a fairytale—but your fantasy was going to come crashing down.
"y/n...why do you never roll up your sleeves when you wash the dishes? they're gonna get all wet!" his tone playful.
"i-its fine hoon, these are just a few dishes anyways" you try force a small laugh as a chill runs down your spine.
"come on sweetheart lemme roll 'em up for you..."
"i said it fine-"
his hand reaches towards your sleeves, pulling them up your arm slightly. you reflexively move away from him, your mind went into overdrive.
"SUNGHOON STOP! I SAID IT'S FINE!" your arm harshly shoved his body away from yours, the glass you were holding flying out of your hand. the sound of the glass shattering on the kitchen floor seemed to echo in the room.
silence fell between you two. your eyes wide and brimming with tears, your chest heaving from your heavy breathing. all you could was cup your hands over your mouth, your eyes looking at the broken glass a few feet away from you and then to your boyfriend. his expression made you sick. he has never looked at you this way. you couldn't tell if he was scared, angry, sad. it didn't matter.
"hoon i-i'm so so sorry, i didn't mean to push you. fu-fuck the glass i'm sorry i'll clean it up" large streams of tears flowed down your cheeks and you managed to get the sentence out in between sobs.
you felt yourself spiraling. you dropped to your knees and crawled towards the broken glass. the sight of the the pieces blurry from your tears and you picked up the pieces with your hands and putting the shards in your palm.
sunghoon was more confused than angry at you, it all happened so fast he barely had time to react. but seeing you pick up the shards of glass with your bare hands snapped him back to reality. he dropped down in front of you on the floor.
"baby stop! what're you doing?! you'll hurt yourself" his voiced laced with concern. he put a hand on your arm and cupped the side of your face with his other hand, wiping the tears away with him thumbs.
you couldn't stop the tears from escaping you. you couldn't believe what you just did. sunghoon was just trying to do a sweet, innocent gesture for you and in the end you hurt him. you didn't deserve him. you knew you couldn't hide it from him forever but you didn't think it would all end like this.
he leaned his forehead to yours, searching to meet your eyes. you just couldn't look at him.
"please y/n, what's going on?" his eyes wide and he pleaded for an answer. catching your breath after what felt like countless sobs, you gently placed the shards back on the floor.
"i need to tell you something hoon."
you followed sunghoon's order to meet in your room as he swept up the broken glass. you sat on your bed as you prepared how you were going to explain all of this.
you didn't want to lose him. he was the best thing that has ever happened to you. all you could imagine was his mortified or disgusted face when he sees your arms. the thought made all your tears resurface. sunghoon sat down next to you on your bed.
"i'm sorry for pushing you hoon. i shouldn't have done that." you took a deep breath before continuing.
"i-i've been hiding something from you since we met. i knew i couldn't h-hide it forever, but i never knew how or when to tell you." you didn't know what else to say to explain. you silently pulled up the sleeves of his hoodie you were wearing.
your arms illuminated by the lamp on your bedside table. silent tears ran down your face as you exposed yourself to him. you have never felt so vulnerable, bare, and scared in your entire life.
"sunghoon i-" before you could say anything else, he pulled you into a silent embrace. one hand pushing your waist to be flush against him, and the other to the nape of your neck.
you eventually muster up the courage to pull away to look up at him. silent tears flowed down sunghoon's cheeks. your eyes widened, sunghoon never cried. your lip quivered at the sight. it was your turn to wipe the tears from his cheek as he did for you earlier.
"um i don't really know what else to say but this explains why i've always covered up my arms around you, why i never was intimate with you...even though i really really wanted to..." you let out a chuckle through your cries trying to lighten the mood.
"...i-i'm sorry i'm such a mess. i know you probably didn't want this going into the relationship. i just- i'm so sorry hoon... i get it if this too much for you."
"you don't have anything to be sorry for y/n..." he grabbed your hand to lace it together with his.
"...this is definitely not an easy thing to share. it just breaks my heart to see someone so kind, smart, and beautiful could do this to herself" he kissed your lips, one of his salty tears landed on your lips.
he used your currently intertwined hands to lift up your arms, placing gentle yet tender kisses to each mark on your arms, your breath hitching at his every touch. this was the first time anyone has been so close, seen you at the most vulnerable. and yet he is treating you like you are made of porcelain.
"this isn't too much y/n. i still think you are the most beautiful person i've ever met—inside and out. this is just a reminder or how strong you are and you overcame whatever you faced in the past. i hope one day you can open up and confide in me because i'm here for you baby. through the good and the bad, especially the bad. because i love you."
your heart melted at his comforting and sincere words, now shedding tears of joy.
"i-i love you too hoon, thank you"
taglist (open!): @laylasbunbunny @blackberryrains
ramblings: this made me so soft and healed my past self 🥺 would you guys like to see more full fics/series or oneshots like this?
thank you so much for reading, please let me know what you think <3
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S3: The Bad Batch (4)
Chapter Four: A Different Approach
Gif by @azertyrobaz
Series Summary: Ever since Eriadu, Clone Force 99 had been a fractured squad. Months have passed but you're finally back with the Batch but Omega is still out there and you won't stop until you find her again.
Chapter Summary: A reunion may be on the cards sooner than you thought
Masterlist for S1 and S2
<Previous Chapter
Genre: Friends (idiots) to Lovers (we're in the lovers stage now)
Chapter Warnings: Canon-typical violence, gambling, again we have my interpretation of headspaces, limited use of y/n, fluff and mild angst, discussion of character death, protective reader and Hunter, reader and Crosshair kinda get into it
Word Count: 5.3K
Author's notes: Now we're getting into part of the series where each episode allows for a bit more creative license which I'm very excited about! It starts with the end of this one and I hope y'all like it! Also, with regards to tagging people, I'm only tagging the users who still officially register when I do it. Please, please let me know if you want tagged/for me to try your username again!!
Sparks flew from the control as Omega did her best to stabilise them, but it was proving to be a rather challenging task. “I could use some help up here! Our comms are down. I can’t contact Hunter!”
From down below in the shuttle, Crosshair was also doing his best to get things under control but the smoke, electrical malfunctions and the persistent screech of the alarm told him that was a very unlikely outcome. He analysed the screen dictating the state of the ship. “That’s not the priority. The ship sustained heavy damage.”
“I can see that.” Omega retorted.
Crosshair made his way back up to the co-pilot’s seat, with Batcher following close behind. “Get the stabilizers back online!”
“That’s what I’m trying to do.” Immediately after she said that a large spark of electricity crackled from the console and the ship was torn out of hyperspace and spiralled towards the planet ahead.
“We have to land.”
“A little hard to do when nothing’s working.” Omega snapped at him as she fiddled with the steering but to no avail.
The ship entered the atmosphere and started to plummet towards the ground.
Omega pulled hard on the lever to even out the ship as the ground grew ever closer. It was all she could do before it crashed landed and skidded along the surface.
When it finally came to a halt, Omega opened the glass roof to allow them all to get some air and eventually exit the wrecked vehicle. She looked in dismay as the controls fully shut off and the last dying spark flickered. “This will take forever to repair.”
Crosshair exhaled a sore sigh as he got his bearings, but that soreness was soon replaced by irritation as the hound pushed insistently on the back of his chair. “No. there’s no time for that.” The dog’s fussing got too much for him. He stood up to allow her to jump past him and off the shuttle.
“We need to get the nav reader online to extract the coordinates to Tantiss for when we go back.” Omega said, turning to look at him.
He couldn’t understand how she’d only just escaped that hell and was already talking about returning. “We’re not going back.”
“We left the other prisoners behind.”
“And the Empire is going to be searching for this ship and us.” He grabbed the pack with the blasters and hopped out of the shuttle. “We have to move. I scanned a spaceport a few clicks east. We’ll start there.”
Omega followed his example and let him lead the way to the spaceport.
--
With the establishment of the new plan being they would get to the spaceport and sneak onto a shuttle, they acquired their disguises and the two of them blended in with the civilians of the town.
They walked past the various troopers in the town as casually as they could so as not to arouse any unnecessary suspicion.
Omega warily analysed the situation ahead as they reached the spaceport. “It’s too well-guarded. We’ll never slip past all those troopers undetected.”
“I can take out at least half before they know what’s happening.” Crosshair stated confidently.
“Or… or we could try a way that doesn’t involve blaster fire.” Omega countered.
“Like what?” Crosshair asked, his voice filled with doubt.
“Watch and learn.” With that, Omega calmly led the way to the ticket attendant.
“Oh, I can hardly wait.” Crosshair said with a sigh as he followed a few paces behind.
“Hello. We’d like two tickets on the next shuttle please.” Omega requested pleasantly.
“Chain codes?” Came the standard reply from the attendant.
“About that. We lost our chain codes.” Omega said coyly.
“No chain codes, no passage.”
“Right. But you see, a problem for us could be an opportunity for you if, say, you knew of an alternate way of booking passage without a chain code.” She advanced towards the desk.
The attendant leaned forward. “Are you insinuating that I should take bribe?”
“If that’s what you want to call it.” Omega replied, feigning innocence.
“I do. And that could be arranged… for 15,000 credits.”
Omega’s composure slipped slightly upon hearing that price, “For two tickets?” She exclaimed.
“Per ticket. And it’s non-negotiable. You’re lucky I’m not charging extra for the creature.”
“Where do you expect is to get 30,000 credits?”
“Sounds like a you problem. Don’t come back without the credits.” The attendant waved a hand in dismissal.
Omega hung her head in defeat and left the port with Crosshair.
“Well, that went well.” Crosshair remarked sarcastically.
“Stow it.” Omega grumbled.
--
“Storming the spaceport would be easier than finding 30,000 credits.” Crosshair hissed as they aimlessly wandered the streets of the town.
“I don’t want to hurt anyone.”
“Don’t be naïve. Every second we’re here, we’re at risk.”
They came to a stop outside a bar.
“The quite wasting time complaining.” Omega argued before two troopers exited the bar and they both averted their gaze, but the opening of the door had given Omega another idea. “I think I know how we can make some fast credits.”
“Of course you do.” Crosshair mumbled as he saw her getting ready to make her way into the bar. The fluttering of a scrappy piece of paper caught under a nearby crate grabbed his eye before he entered, and he came to a sudden stop as he picked it up and saw what- or rather who- was on it.
Omega noticed he had stopped and when she turned back to enquire what was wrong, the question died on her lips as she saw what he was looking at. Only half the information on the sheet was news to her, but the rest made her eyes widen in shock. By the looks of things, you had been on your own for the time she’d been on Tantiss and clearly, you’d stopped hiding. And judging by the harsh language and substantial reward offering, the Empire wasn’t too happy about that. Now, not only was there the trouble of how exactly this information would go down between you and Crosshair but she also couldn’t count on the fact that you were back with Hunter and Wrecker. She glanced up at Crosshair and, despite the fact that most of his face was covered, he could not conceal the emotions that flashed behind his eyes. “Oh… um… she- well back when- I’m sure she would’ve told-” She broke off with a sharp breath as she struggled to find the words to say.
“Doesn’t matter.” Crosshair said dismissively, crumpling it up and putting it away before he carried on into the bar. The fact that Omega seemed to already have an idea of what your… situation… gave him enough of a timeline to go off of.
“One thing at a time, right girl?” Omega said with a shaky breath, patting Batcher’s side as the hound nuzzled into her. Putting her mind onto the task at hand, she too entered the bar.
--
The bar itself was relatively busy, especially compared to how Cid’s had usually been, and it gave Omega the chance to study her potential adversaries from their booth by the wall unnoticed.
“That’s your plan? You want to hustle someone?” Crosshair repeated sceptically. What had they taught this kid?
“I’ve done it before, and I prefer to think of it as a temporary requisition of funds.”
“And bet with what? We don’t have anything.”
“They don’t know that.” Omega said with a cheeky grin.
“And if you lose?”
“Well… I guess we’ll be in more trouble.” With that, she made her way to the card table in the middle of the bar and sat across from the Trandoshan and got her performance ready to go.
--
To say that Crosshair was surprised would be an understatement, the kid was winning every hand against the Trandoshan and securing credits within a matter of minutes. Whatever experience she’d gained with the rest of his squad was clearly something to be admired. Although the mental image of Hunter even allowing her to hone such a skill felt very out of place, he was quietly grateful for it right now.
The bar came to a sudden hushed silence as the door opened. Omega heard Crosshair clear his throat in warning and she looked to the entrance to see an Imperial officer flanked by two troopers enter. She studied them carefully but remained at the table as she won the next hand much to the Trandoshan’s disappointment. “I think I’ll quite while I’m ahead.” She said in response to his pleas for another game. Having an Imperial official here complicated matters and it was time she, Crosshair and Batcher left.
“Leaving so soon?”
Omega turned her head to face the officer as he stood by the table.
“You’re in my seat.”
The Trandoshan let out a low snarl before he departed and gave up his seat to the man.
Crosshair tensed as he saw the Imperial sit but Omega waved him back.
“So, you think you’re good at this game?”
Omega replied with a nonchalant shrug of her shoulders.
“Want to try against a, uh, real opponent?” He suggested to the young girl. “I insist.”
--
“Your mutt don’t seem to like me.” He said as the dog released a series of growls.
“She’s harmless.” Omega said in reply as she organised her cards.
“She’s a distraction. Get rid of her.” He demanded.
Omega signalled to Crosshair to take her out.
Crosshair got to his feet, clicked his tongue, and led Batcher to wait outside.
The Imperial watched them go. “Never seen you or your dad around before.” He commented.
“We’re just passing through.” Omega replied as she watched him flip the next card and the rise in murmurs indicated that both he and the crowd seemed to think her time was up.
“Eh, I’ll admit you’re not bad. But you seem to have misunderstood your enemy.”
Omega only smirked, “Did I?” She placed her cards down and flashed the set of the three Eastern Stars. Game over. “I’ll take those 20,000 credits.” She grew nervous however when his two guards made to approach the table.
He held a hand up to stop them. “I concede. You beat me fair and square.” He gave her the credits. “Nicely played.” He left the table.
The Imperial went back to his men and one of them addressed him.
“Sir. Patrol found a crashed Imperial vessel on the outskirts of town.”
“I wasn’t notified about any shuttles arriving today.” He angled back to look at the two strangers with a newfound sense of suspicion. “Now, hang on a minute.”
Omega gathered the credits in her bag and, now that Crosshair had returned, she got up to leave with him, but the familiar voice of the Imperial stopped them both.
“We’re not done here.” He chuckled coolly. “You haven’t paid your fine.”
“What fine?” Omega asked.
“Gambling’s illegal in these parts.”
“What?” Crosshair snarled as he made to step forward, but Omega’s arm stopped him.
“The law is the law. Now, all you gotta do is pay the fine. And I’ll be on my way.”
“How much?” Omega asked him as she did her best to keep her disgust at bay.
“Ten thousand credits… unless you prefer to be arrested instead.”
Omega got the credits out and handed them over.
“Excellent. Consider your fine paid in full.” He said smugly. “Try and stay out of trouble.” He dipped his cap and left the establishment.
Omega sighed in relief. “Let’s get out of here.”
Crosshair caught her shoulder. “How many credits do we have left?”
Omega checked the bag. “Thirty-five thousand. Enough for two tickets and a little extra.” She made the first move to leave.
--
“Crosshair, where’s Batcher?” Omega asked anxiously as she scanned the area for her companion.
“Oy. You looking for that hound?”
The two of them turned to look at the young boy speaking to them.
“You know where she went?” Omega queried.
“Sure do, but the answer’s gonna cost you. Ten thousand credits.”
The fact that he was a child made no difference, Crosshair sighed and stood intimidatingly over the boy. “I’m getting tired of this.”
“Okay, okay.” The boy backtracked. “Five, but that’s my final offer.”
Omega touched Crosshair’s arm to call him off before she gave the boy the money.
The boy examined the credits before he supplied the information, “That Imperial officer and his troopers snatched the creature and headed for the cargo docks. Down that way.” He pointed. “Nice doing business with ya.” He ran away from them before they could change their mind about the money.
Omega started off in the direction of the docks.
“Omega.”
She angled back to face Crosshair. “You heard him. Batcher’s this way.”
“And the spaceport is that way. Forget the hound. We have to get off this planet.”
“We never would be escaped without Batcher. I’m not leaving her.”
“You’re making a mistake.”
“I’m not abandoning her!” Omega angrily tossed the bag of credits at him. “Take the credits. If you wanna go, then go. I’ll find my own way.” She stormed off.
Crosshair watched her go but before he got ready to go his own way, he felt guilt coil in his gut. It was becoming very clear as to the impact she could have on someone and explained why his squad had cared so much for her since he too found himself following her rather than doing the more sensible thing of leaving from the spaceport.
--
“Fine. We’ll do this your way.” Crosshair agreed begrudgingly as he placed the bag down before Omega scaled the gate to the cargo docks herself. “But my skills are being wasted.” He offered his hands as a means to boost her over the top.
Omega gave him a warm smile, “Noted.” With his assistance she was able to climb over the gate with ease.
Crosshair made the quick climb after her and together, they snuck through the docks looking for where Batcher was being kept.
Omega then heard a series of whines and she saw Batcher’s cage. “There’s Batcher.” She signalled to Crosshair before she analysed the situation around her. “Shouldn’t we free the other animals too?”
“Don’t push it.” Crosshair replied.
--
They had managed to covertly make their way around to get better access to the centre console but before they could make a move, that dull voice spoke up.
“I thought you’d come searching for your mutt. Yeah, unfortunately for you, Lau has a very strict pet policy. No license means a hefty fine.”
“How much this time?” Omega asked, pretending to play along as the two of them were swiftly surrounded by troopers.
“How ‘bout you give me all my money back? Credits won’t do you any good when Hemlock shows up.” He saw the shared looked between them. “Oh, did you think I wouldn’t piece it together when I found that crashed shuttle? Nothing gets by me. I run this town.” He drew his own blaster. “So, hand over the credits and surrender.”
Omega sighed, “Alright.” She chucked the bag to the Imperial. “Let’s try things your way.” She murmured to Crosshair.
“Finally.” Crosshair waited until Omega ducked to cover before firing the first shot, but he noticed his hand was still no unsteady and his aim was more compromised than he liked.
Omega used the chaos of the firefight to get to the controls and release all the animals, the resulting stampede thinning out the Imperial forces and reuniting her with Batcher.
“I’ll handle this. Take Batcher, and power up the ship.” Crosshair ordered. He provided her cover fire as she got the ship ready and when he saw a break in the blaster fire, he made his move towards the step.
Once he was on board, Omega got the cargo ship in the air and into the safety of hyperspace.
--
You had remained on the ship to study Tech’s datapad and the various planets and their coordinates whilst the other two dealt with the lead on this particular planet, but its name escaped you- you’d been to so many in this sector already, the names of them were beginning to blur together.
You were doing what you could to try and determine the next, more efficient course of action whilst the others were out but the words and data on the screen were moulding into one pile of unintelligible information. You put the datapad down for a minute and rubbed your eyes as you huffed a tired breath from your lungs. You stretched your neck and adjusted your posture but before you picked the datapad back up, a faint chirping caught your ears.
You swivelled in your chair to see the communications light flashing and you knew you weren’t supposed to be hearing from Echo any time soon. So, when you patched the encrypted message through and untangled it to find coordinates to the moon just outside of Ryloth, you knew there was only one other person who could’ve sent it.
You jumped out of your chair and cleared the steps of the Marauder in one leap before you sprinted to find Hunter and Wrecker.
--
“What’s wrong?” Hunter asked urgently as he saw you come running towards them.
You shook your head as you glanced between them. Your breath was heavy from the running but also from excitement as you said, “It’s Omega.”
--
“Look, I hate to be the one to say it, but what if this message is a trap?” Wrecker broached carefully as the ship flew through hyperspace.
“Who else would know those codes?” You disputed.
“But if the Empire has her…”
“If it’s a trap, then we’ll get out of there but if it is her… we need to be there, Wrecker.” Hunter said as the ship disengaged from hyperspace, and he entered the landing cycle. There was no sign of another ship yet, but he opened the door anyway.
“There’s no one here.” Wrecker murmured, wringing his own hands anxiously.
“Then we wait.” You said calmly though your own heart was pounding.
--
“The Empire will be able to track this vessel. We need to ditch it.” Crosshair advised as he entered the cockpit after getting rid of the hat and face covering that he had donned back in Lau.
“We will. I’m heading to a remote location, and I sent a coded transmission for Hunter and Wrecker and (Y/N) to meet us there.” Omega responded. She only hoped you’d be with them too.
Now that this reunion was approaching ever closer, he found himself unprepared for what was to happen next. “Omega. It’s- it’s been months. You don’t know if they’re still ali-”
“They’ll be there.” Omega interrupted sharply.
The ship exited hyperspace and as she peered out the window, she saw the welcomed sight of the Marauder waiting there.
Omega dashed down the ship’s steps but paused as she saw no immediate sign of any of you.
--
A few hours had passed but there was still no sign of the ship and nerves were starting to get the better of you all.
Hunter had begun pacing the length of the cockpit, you had not stopped fidgeting with your vibroblade and alternated between that and examining the hilt of your lightsaber, and Wrecker was busying himself around the rest of the ship.
You saw the uneasy expression on Hunter’s face, and you pulled yourself together enough to be there for him. You caught his shoulders and looked deep into his eyes. “Just wait, take a breath. She’ll be here, Hunter. I know it.”
“But-” He broke off as he heard the sound of a ship landing and a whole different type of nerves overtook him.
Wrecker made the first move to look outside and what he saw filled him with pure joy. “Now there’s a sight!”
Take your time. You caressed Hunter’s cheek with a comforting and utterly relieved smile before you ran outside to join Wrecker.
Hunter braced his hands on the back of the pilot’s chair. He needed a minute to gather himself. This was the moment he had been seeking out for months but part of him couldn’t quite believe it was happening.
--
“Wrecker!” Omega cried in relief as she ran towards him and let him pick her up.
“I wasn’t even sure your message was real!” Wrecker said with a happy laugh as he held her close.
“I knew you’d show up.” Omega closed her eyes and let the comfort of his strong hold overtake her.
“We wouldn’t have missed it.”
Omega opened her eyes to the sound of your voice, and she smiled brightly as she saw you standing just behind him.
You knelt down with your arms open as Wrecker lowered her.
Omega fell into your embrace and nuzzled into your shoulder. “I wasn’t sure if- I thought you might’ve been-” She pulled away with a teary sniff.
You tilted your head as you tenderly wiped away the tears that had slid down her cheek and stroked a hand through her hair, the longer length of it a painful reminder of how much time had truly passed. “I’m right here, nothing happened to me.” You didn’t need to worry her about past events right now- that rehashing undoubtedly would come up later- but this current moment was something to be celebrated and not clouded by anything else.
Omega went to clarify what she meant but Wrecker’s words stopped her.
“We crossed the galaxy four times looking for you.” Wrecker revealed, wiping his own tears away.
“Five.”
Omega glanced past you as she heard Hunter’s voice and the sight of him created a feeling of pure elation that she wasn’t sure she would never experience again.
“But you’re the one who found us.” Hunter said with a smile from the doorway of the Marauder.
Omega started to run towards him.
Hunter darted down the steps two at a time and came to his knees as he held his arms out to her.
Your heart swelled and the emotions of the moment got stuck in your throat. That sight had been one you had been waiting to see for quite some time. You sensed and visibly saw how relaxed and content he looked, and you felt tears prick at the corners of your eyes.
Wrecker put a friendly arm around your shoulder as you both go to your feet, and he saw your reaction to their reunion. He too felt himself getting caught up in it all. Finally, things were looking up.
“We missed you, kid. We never stopped searching.” Hunter said affectionately and as he tightened his hold on her and felt her reciprocate, for the first time since Ord Mantell, he felt truly at peace. He pulled away but kept his hands on her shoulders, “But how did you escape?”
Omega hesitated before saying, “I had help.”
Hunter looked past her to see… well to see his brother descend the stairs of the ship, but what hit him was far more complicated than the relief he had been experiencing a mere second before.
You all followed his eyes and whatever happiness and lightness that had been surrounding you all immediately vanished and was replaced by a palpable tension as you all faced the clone that walked down the steps.
Your hand automatically came to cover your lightsaber.
Omega gaze darted between you all and she saw the shift in body language as well as the serious and distrusting expressions on all of you. It appeared she may have miscalculated as to how this smoothly this particular reunion would go.
“We can do this now and remain by a ship the Empire will be currently tracking, or we can get out of here.” Crosshair said simply.
Hunter placed a guiding hand on Omega’s back and jutted his head to Crosshair as the rest of you boarded the ship.
Crosshair followed them, with Batcher now close on his heels and the Marauder entered hyperspace once more.
--
Omega stood in the middle of the hallway. None of you had so much as made a sound or really moved since the ship had begun the journey back to Pabu and it was getting rather unbearable. “So… I got a dog! Her name’s Batcher.” Omega said with an uneasy laugh into the dead silence of the ship, but it got no reaction. The four of you continued your standoff with Crosshair positioned down the hall of the ship closest to her room/gun turret and the rest of you closer to the cockpit. All of you had your arms crossed and you, Hunter and Wrecker looked particularly guarded. She took that resulting quiet as her cue to perhaps let you all have it out right now. She took a seat and called Batcher over to sit by her feet and waited.
It was Crosshair who broke the silence first, “Where’s Echo?”
“Working with Rex.” Hunter replied briskly.
Crosshair released a soft hum in acknowledgement before he asked the question that he’d been putting off since he’d deduced it from how Omega had talked to him all those months on Tantiss, “And Tech… he’s- he’s really gone?”
“Yeah. It-” Hunter released a sad sigh, “It was a mission gone wrong and he- he sacrificed himself for us so we could get away. He knew what he was doing but… yes, he’s gone.”
Crosshair’s jaw tightened. He knew exactly what mission Hunter was referring to. “So much for Plan 88.” He couldn’t help but say, the grief and tense situation getting the better of him.
“What?” You remarked with a glare.
“You were supposed to stay hidden.”
“We couldn’t do that.” Wrecker said grimly. “Not when it looked like you were in trouble.”
“We couldn’t leave you behind, Crosshair.” Hunter added quietly, some of the fight leaving him as he recalled the events of Eriadu.
“Why? You never had trouble doing that before.” Crosshair retorted harshly.
“Excuse me?” You growled.
“Hey, it’s okay, don’t-” Hunter came to stand in front of you, but you stepped past him.
You couldn’t help it, the protectiveness that hit you was all you could act on. “You don’t get to do that. You don’t get to throw your choices back in his face. You were offered a different path, but you decided the Empire was where you wanted to be. And yet, despite all of that, the moment we found out you needed us, there was no real alternative. We never knew what had happened to you, but we didn’t need to. All we knew was that you were in trouble. We all knew the risks of ignoring that plan… Tech knew the risks. Don’t you dare-”
Crosshair wasn’t prepared to explain what happened to him yet, so he kept up with his provocation instead, “You want to talk about risks? What are you playing at staying around with them?”
Hunter and Wrecker both looked sharply towards Crosshair.
Your posture stiffened. “I don’t know what-”
“I may have been out of action but I’m not blind. If the lightsaber on your belt didn’t give it away, the wanted poster I just saw sure as hell did.” Crosshair spat as he flung it towards you.
You unfurled the paper, and your breathing became irregular saw this was one of the more detailed wanted ads that had been circulated. You crumpled it back up and then glanced to Omega who could only offer an apologetic grimace that she couldn’t warn you earlier, “That’s what I was trying to tell you.”
You looked back to the clone, “Crosshair, I-”
“You’re a Jedi and that wasn’t something you felt the need to share?”
“Every day.” You said tightly, “But I couldn’t chance something happening-”
“Well, something’s happened now, hasn’t it?” Crosshair bit back angrily. “Do you have any idea the danger you’ve put us in? Do you even care? You’d be doing us a favour by leaving.”
Even Omega joined Wrecker in shaking her head at him this time.
“Crosshair.” Hunter cautioned as he saw the guilt and shame that flashed across your face as your mask of composure slipped. “She’s not going anywhere. We’ve handled it so far.”
“You don’t know what the Empire is capable or what she is. I read what she’s done, and they won’t stop-”
“We’ve got it handled.” Wrecker repeated again as he noticed the way your shoulders started to heave.
Your jaw clenched. “You weren’t there. You don’t know-”
“I was there on Devaron.” Crosshair snapped. “I was there when you decided to join us. I was there when you decided to spend every day lying about what you are.”
“Crosshair.” Hunter warned again and there was no mistaking the protectiveness in his tone or his stance now.
Crosshair picked up on Hunter’s reaction, but he wasn’t to be dissuaded. “You want to judge my decisions, but you betrayed-”
“You don’t get to talk about betrayal, Crosshair.” Hunter interjected coldly as he came to stand by your side.
You only let out a bitter laugh. “Yeah, I made my choices in the beginning but when would you have liked me to tell you, Crosshair? On Kaller? But would that have been during or after your attempts to kill the Padawan? Or perhaps you would’ve preferred it on Kamino when Tarkin was there, and you were talking about how great the Empire was and how the Jedi were traitors and what happened to them was justified? Or would you have liked to have a sit down during one of the many occasions you were already actively trying to kill us? Tell me, when should I have entrusted you with this part of me?”
This time he didn’t have a response for you, he just shifted uneasily on his feet and glanced down at the floor.
You continued to speak but there was a distinct sadness to your voice now, “I wished I had been honest with all of you from the start. Truly I do. But after everything that’s happened, I’m glad you’ve only just found out because looking at you now, knowing what I do, I can’t be certain that if you had known what I was on Kaller, that you wouldn’t have tried to kill me too.”
Crosshair went to speak but found that he couldn’t immediately offer the reassurance that was needed.
“You’re our brother, Crosshair, and you’re welcome to stay on Pabu with us but don’t expect any of this to be easy.” Hunter said, placing his hand on your back in support.
“He helped me get out of Tantiss. He’s different now.” Omega remarked quietly.
Wrecker grunted and nodded towards his brother, but you and Hunter made no such moves, instead you both retreated further into the cockpit.
You sat in one of the passenger seats and stared at the paper again as you read the painful reminders of how you’d acted when you’d been separated from them. He’s right, you know.
“No, he’s not.” Hunter disagreed firmly as he knelt before you and untangled the wrinkled piece of paper from your hands. He paid it no attention as he threw it away. He came back and placed his hands on your shoulders as he crouched before you. “Are you alright?”
You breathed deeply and nodded. And you?
Hunter also nodded before he got to his feet and sat in the seat across from you.
--
“So, when did this happen?” Crosshair asked, gesturing to the two of you. The way you both were behaving wasn’t totally different to how things had been in the months before Kaller, but there was a definite shift that marked something more official. There had been a lot he’d missed out on.
“After Tipoca City.” Omega informed him as Batcher eagerly greeted them.
Wrecker enthusiastically petted the hound as he moved closer to Crosshair and Omega. “About time, right?” He added with a hint of humour in his voice, but the stern looks from the two of you had him clearing his throat awkwardly.
Crosshair simply hummed in reply and found himself wondering just quite how difficult things were about to be.
Next Chapter (to be posted)>
Tagging: @noeasyisnoisy, @andreaaxy, @dominoeffectsworld, @nightmonkeysstuff, @arctrooper69
#the bad batch#the bad batch season 3#the bad batch s3#hunter x reader#hunter x femalejedi!reader#hunter x fem!reader#hunter x female!reader#sergeant hunter#sergeant hunter x reader#hunter tbb#hunter the bad batch#the bad batch hunter x you#hunter x y/n#tbb hunter x reader#the bad batch fanfiction#star wars#friends to lovers#angst#fluff
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Obsessed In Love II
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Pairing: Yandere! Checo Pérez x gn!reader
Warnings: Dark themes, yandere, hints to drugging, kidnapping, suggestive, badly translated Spanish (sorry)
Notes: You asked for a part 2 so I had to deliver... And just imagine both Checo and the reader live in the smse country as the race because that's one if the only ways that the start will make sense. Also I'm working on a Mark Webber request so hopefully that will be out at some point!
Summary: What happens when you wake up in a random bed with no recollection of the day before. You just accept it because nothing weird could have happened...right?
Part 1
-°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°--°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°-
You wake up with a huge headache and in an unfamiliar place. Well not wholly unfamiliar, the top of the bedpost looked slightly familiar. You give it some thought and realise that Checo has a similar bed if not the same one. Not that you keep track of Checo's bed or anything... You had seen Checo's bedroom in the occasional Red Bull mandated video call here and there but that was about it. Despite your close relationship on track, that was it. A truly professional work relationship that unfortunately didn't extend to many outside of work hours or walls (as much as Checo had tried to invite the whole team out just to see you there). You feel very grogy waking up and can't remember much of the end of the previous day. After you finished filming the video, your memory becomes cloudy.
You groan and stop yourself from trying to remember too much of yesterday else it will give you a headache. You go to get out of bed, still not fully processing the fact that you werent in your own room only to find you were caged in by something heavy lying around your waist. Your eyes widen. Oh no... you weren't alone. You curse at your foolishness of not realising that if course you'd be with someone else if you were in a foreign room. You lift the person's arm up (damn they had nice muscles) and turn on yoir side to see if you recognised the person beside you. The last thing you'd have ever expected dthough was to see your boss. Sergio Pérez. "Oh sh-" He groans slightly at your disturbance of the peace and sleeping adjusts himself so he's lying with one leg draped over you, face buried in the side of your chest.
At his sudden change in scenery, he begins to wake up. You wait with baited breath to see his reaction and as his sleep drowsed eyes meet yours, you swear you see a small smile flash across his lips before he sports a similar shocked face to your current one. He rubs his eyes and sits up and as he repositions, you note that his leg is still touching yours. He smirks and begins to speak in an odd attractive, rapsy morning voice (gosh you shouldn't be having these thoughts) "Not that I don't want you in my bed but what are you doing here querida?" You shake your head and shrug.
"I-I don't know..." You try and cast your mind back to last night when your predicament finally settles. You. Your boss. Alone. In his bed. You gasp. "You don't think we...?" His eyebrows raise at your suggestion. You avoid his eyes and feel the flitter of your heartbeat at the thought. You ahd always had a thing for him (not that you'd even admit it to yourself). He shakes his head. "I hope not." You feel yourself frown and physically deflate at his words. You can't help it. "Wait no, querida I don't mean it like that..." You turn and face him and raise an eyebrow in curiosity. "It's just- well. Never mind." He looks down almost embarrassed and you scoot closer to him. "Go ahead. I won't judge." He meets your eyes again and smiles softly. "Please forgive me if I'm being to forward but I just feel like a moment like that would be magical and I just wouldn't want to forget that."
You're left speechless at his words and feel your cheeks warm. You identity your mouth to say something but he cuts across you. "You don't need to say anything I just wanted to get that off my chest." You nod and smile at him. "Now what kind of a host would I be if I didn't make breakfast for you?" You laugh softly at his words and tilt your head in amusement. "His smile widens at your clear enjoyment if his words and so he continues. "You stay here Querida and I'll go and make some breakfast for us." He leaves the room, closing the door with a gentle click. You stretch out and enjoy the feeling if his soft bedding (that smells exactly like his cologne that you've notices often in your time working for him) whilst you look around at his room, taking in all of the new sights.
☆-☆-☆-☆-☆
Checo made a wonderful breakfast and after he beconed you to the dining room, you lost track of time just talking. So much so that when you look at the time, you realise that you need to arrive at red bull hospitality in less than an hour. "Shit." You curse your luck as you look down at your clothes still from yesterday. Checo raises his eyebrows at your profanity and you explain to him. "I need to go and get changed for FP1 and I think my house is too far away!" You scramble out of the chair and through the doorframe you went through as you came downstairs.
You don't when clock Checo's distant calls until hes right behind you as you bend down to put your shoes on. "Cariño, there's no use. You won't make it on time." You hang your head in shame and finally accept what you refused to moments ago. "However, I do have some clothes lying around that I'm sure would fit you and you could wear to work!" You meet his eyes and cast him a grateful look.
☆-☆-☆-☆-☆
Checo end up giving you an entire set of new clothes after you shower and wash your body (as per his instructions). In your still stresses haze, you don't question why he has clothes lying around his house that really do fit you well. You're impressed that he gives you an entire outfit. Well bar a shirt but he says that you'd be fine just to wear one of his red bull shirts. You put on the Red Bull shirt (unsurprisingly his own metch with a little SP11 over the right breast) and you try and style the slightly baggy shirt. When you exit his bedroom where he let you change, you fail to notice the hungry pair of eyes or the ravenous,possessive gaze that comes with them.
☆-☆-☆-☆-☆
Checo was kind enough to drive you and when you eventually reach the doors of Red Bull hospitality, you're on time to the minute. You ignore the suspicious glances that everyone is casting the both of you for arriving together and you head to your office to get the schedule for today.
You walk back out to the foyer and are greeted by Max. You smile and wave at him, exchanging a few pleasantries as your eyes scan the room and doorways for Checo. You find him in the adjacent room and as Max's on assistant comes to tech him, you walk over to Checo. He's hunched over his phone with a prominent scowl on his face. "Are you ready to go to your driver's room?" You ask the Mawxican. He perks up at your words and nods as he walks off to get changed.
☆-☆-☆-☆-☆
FP1 goes by eith next to no issues. There is a good variety of cars performing well at the track and unsurprisingly, both the red bulls have good pace. You sit down. You've been feeling a bit dizzy all throughout the day and can't help but have a small inkling in the back of your mind that this isn't the first time this has happened today. By the time both Free Practise sessions and all team meetings have ended, you go to see Checo in his driver's room. You knock gently on the door and wait.
The door opens with a soft click. "Hello querida. Come in." He gestures you inside and you take a seat at one end of the sofa. You continue to talk. You find yourself caught up in a large rant with Checo not responding to anything. You turn to look at him only to notice his eyes firmly set on you. "What? Is something wrong?" He just shakes his head and you watch as his eyes give you a quick glance up and down. Suddenly, you become hyperaware of your close proximity and before you can give it any more thoughts, your lips meet with his.
You whine softly at the contact and thread you hand into his hair. He puts a hand gently on your waist as you pull apart for air. You look into us eyes and can't help but blush at what just happened despite where you found yourself this morning. He places his hand gently under your jaw and tilts your head back up. You meet his dilated pupils and he jumps straight back in to a much more passionate kiss this time filled with more tongue. The two if you fight for dominance with your mouths but in the end it is him that wins and the two of you continue to kiss until you feel a slight thrombin in your head. You pull back and smile at the man. "Sorry. I've just been having the worst headache all day." He nods sympathetically. "I get it cariño. You You rest for a bit and I'll wake you once I've finished the right up for today and we can go home. You forget about your surroundings as you lean your head tentatively against his shoulder. You see him pick up his laptop on the side table and continue to type. As you drift out of consciousness you swear you can hear a low mumble of what appears to be "Eres toda mía ahora, ¿no?" Followed by a small kiss to the forehead.
You're all mine now, aren't you?
☆-☆-☆-☆-☆
You stir softly later in the evening when the moon is still high in the sky and the light of the stars shiens through the small crack in the curtains. A part in the back of your mind begins to worry as you're not in your own bed once again but you're
put at ease when you hear the distant voice of Checo in the distance. You Don even try and pay attention to his conversation, clearly in Spanish, and waltz right back into the open arms of slumber waiting to be woken again hopefully with your newfound lover by your side.
☆-☆-☆-☆-☆
Checo whispers in loud, harsh Spanish to the person on the other end of the phone.
"No, no me importan las consecuencias... Sí, lo entiendo... Pero ahora son míos, eso es lo único que importa... No, no escaparán, estoy seguro de que puedo mantenerlos aquí para siempre. .. Oh, encontraré una manera. No te preocupes."
No I don't care about the consequences... Yes I get that... But they're mine now that's all that matters... No they won't escape, I'm sure I can keep them here forever... Oh I'll find a way. Don't you worry.
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Thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed it!
As always, likes, reblogs and especially feedback is always welcome.
Taglist (irdk if this is anyone's thing so sorry if it's not). @nikfigueiredo @mysoulispainted @leclercings @d3kstar @hiireadstuff @a-beaverhausen @nichmeddar @lozzamez3 @stinkyjax @marymustdie @littlesatanicassholebitch @mehrmonga @insanedeathwish @ems-alexandra @a-disturbing-self-reflection @cherry-piee @minkyungseokie @checoverstappen @pasteljesse @deliciousfestsalad
#f1#f1 x reader#f1 x you#formula 1#f1 fanfic#yandere sergio pérez#sergio pérez x reader#sergio perez x reader#sergio checo pérez#sergio perez#sergio perez x gn!reader#checo perez x gn!reader#checo perez x reader#checo perez#yandere checo#tw yandere#yandere
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of our own making
(an X-Files fanfic)
Chapter 18/34 - ashes
[Read on AO3]
“I love what you've done with the place,” a voice speaks as soon as the apartment door closes behind her. She looks up at the darkened shadow in the corner, only partially illuminated by the dim light of Mulder's fish tank. His face lights up with an orange flash as he flicks his lighter on, bringing the flame to the tip of his cigarette. It reflects off the hard edges of his face, giving him the monstrous appearance of a gargoyle for the briefest of moments before fading into black once more.
“What do you want?” Scully asks, no patience for beating around the bush with this man. At least he appears to be incapable of harming anyone. The man looks like he already has one foot in the grave, and she'd love to give him that last little push he needs.
“I want you to stop looking,” he answers simply.
“You've wanted that since 1973, when you ordered an end to the search for Mulder's sister,” she says, unmoved. “Your initials are on the document, I've seen it.”
If he’s surprised that she’s figured that much out on her own, he doesn’t show it. “Yes, I signed that order because I knew then what I know now: No one's going to find her.”
“Why not?”
“Because I believe she's dead.” The words deal a crushing blow, as does the cold, unfeeling way he speaks them. “No reason to believe otherwise,” he says offhandedly, gesturing vaguely with his cigarette.
“You're a liar,” Scully says softly, her hatred of the man simmering just below the surface. “If you knew that she was dead, why didn't you say something earlier? Why now?”
“There was so much to protect before,” he says with a shrug. “It's all gone now.” The Syndicate, reduced to ashes. Their leader obviously barely hanging on by a thread.
“So you just let Mulder believe that she was alive for all these years?” she asks, furious, if that’s the case. It makes her sick, the way he toys with Mulder like a puppet.
“Out of kindness, Agent Scully,” he says. “Allow him his ignorance. It's what gives him hope.”
Scully rears back in disgust. How dare he talk about hope? How could he dangle the false promise of everything Mulder has ever wanted in front of him, and ask her to do the same?
Never.
“That isn't what gives him hope,” she says, glaring at the very embodiment of evil standing in her living room.
He gives a low chuckle, its sound chilling.
“No, I suppose you're right. He has much better things to hope for now, doesn't he?” The insinuation that he knows what they’re up to terrifies her, but she won’t let it show. “I suppose I ought to thank you for that, Agent Scully,” he continues. “I never could have predicted how sending you to him would turn out, but you're good for him. Despite what you may think, it delights me to see my son so happy. And in the end, I succeeded in my purpose of sending him to you after all.”
“Which was what?” she spits.
“To distract him,” he says calmly. “To get him to quit.”
Well, tough luck, you black-lunged creep. “It didn't work out that way.”
“No, it didn't,” he concedes with a nod. “In fact, he became even more focused with you in the picture. A miscalculation, on my part. But I don't see how that's worth dwelling on now. Everything I built is gone.”
“I want you to leave us alone,” Scully demands. She wants nothing more than to get as far away from this man as possible, but she holds her ground. She won’t give him the satisfaction of spooking her.
“I will, so long as the two of you stay away from my business,” he says, taking another puff of his cigarette. “I trust that won’t be a problem?”
“You don’t know us at all, do you?”
He chuckles again. “Unfortunately, I do.” The shadows on his face shift as he takes a step in her direction. “In any case, I offer my heartfelt congratulations on your future together.”
“I’ll be sure to pass that along,” she says coldly, not even giving him an inch as he moves past her to the doorway.
He drops his cigarette onto the hardwood floor and steps on it to put it out. Its stench burns at her nostrils, and she isn’t sure even her strongest cleaning chemicals will be enough to remove it. “Your snark is noted, Agent Scully,” he says with a sickening half-smile and a nod.
He opens the door and steps into the hall, then looks back at her one final time.
“Best of luck in your endeavors,” he says.
By the time she goes to shut the door behind him, he’s gone.
-.-.-
Mulder’s ramblings about his sister are nearly incoherent the next time she speaks to him. That, combined with her own experiences since returning to Washington, means she’s booking another ticket back out to California, a move that will certainly have the Bureau accounting people staring her down for the next month or so.
But it proves to be the right decision, because Mulder has found something. The most significant something that’s come his way since all this began.
She doesn’t know what it means.
She’s with him when he finds Samantha’s diary. Drawn there by some otherworldly force, or so he says. She can’t argue with the results, though. Hidden in this house, on an abandoned military base, is the diary of a fourteen year old Samantha Mulder.
Her heart aches for the girl, and for her big brother who drinks in every word scrawled on the page in blue ink.
The diary leads them to a police report. Which leads them to a hospital. Which leads them to the home of a retired nurse.
Which leads to the truth.
Finally.
The nurse tells a tale of a nameless girl, strange injuries, the fear in her eyes. Mysterious men who came looking for her in a cloud of cigarette smoke, and how she vanished from a locked room before they could get to her.
It almost raises more questions than answers, but Scully hopes it’s enough. Enough to satisfy her dearest friend, so that he can truly begin to live.
He disappears off on his own in the short time she’s away, talking to the nurse on her doorstep of her home. But she feels something too, like he had when they first arrived here.
This is where it ends. This is where the rest of their life together truly begins.
-.-.-
He’s not sure what it is exactly that pulls him further into the woods. But, the second he catches sight of the little boy again, translucent in the moonlight, he knows with a sinking feeling what he will find.
It’s overwhelming.
With each step he takes, he becomes more and more certain. Like the puzzle pieces are all sliding into place, forming the picture of their own accord. The lack of effort required by him, after all this time, leaves him feeling hollow and empty.
He's letting go. He has no choice but to do so now, faced with the facts before him. The place inside him where the mystery of his lost sister festered for so long has become a gaping hole, and he feels lost without it already. Uncertain where to go next, now that his guiding force is gone.
His first glimpse of her stills him, and even though deep down, he'd expected to find her, the actuality of it shakes him. It feels both unbelievable and startlingly real at the same time, and he doesn't know what to do. Does he cry? Close his eyes and reject the reality in front of him? Should he leave, satisfied with this conclusion to his life's mission despite it being not what he expected or hoped for?
In the end, he does none of those things. Her name drips from his lips, an answer to a question that has haunted him for decades. Simple, but unimaginably profound.
“Samantha...”
His feet carry him toward her in a trance. Her movement is not so restrained. Her beaming smile practically lights up the forest as she dashes to him, her dark waves bouncing over her shoulders.
She's taller than he's ever seen her, and yet, his own height makes her smaller by comparison. He enfolds her in his arms, not expecting much of anything, but he feels her.
There's no breath in her lungs, but she has a solid form. She's surprisingly warm, not like a living body would be, but—he supposes—like light. Electricity buzzes under the surface when her hand lands on his cheek, and though she's different, at heart she's the same.
He can practically hear her voice in his head as she grins happily up at him, her brother.
“Fox!” her eyes say, his name conveyed in the shine of recognition he sees there.
He swallows back the lump in his throat and crouches to his knees, inspecting the changes on her face with the gentle brush of his fingers.
This is what she'd looked like in the end. While he was off in England, beginning his studies at Oxford, this girl was still here, suffering at the hands of her captors, unable to recall anything more than his face.
He'd never forgotten her. Sometimes he'd hoped he might find her, to see her grown up and happy, freed from whoever it was that had abducted her.
Other times, he'd been certain he would never see her again. He convinced himself it would be a mercy if she'd been dead all this time.
Now, he supposes both were right. She was gone, granted the mercy of a peaceful exit from this life by the mysterious inner workings of the universe. But also…
He gets to see her. For what will be the last time, he knows.
And she is happy, he can tell. At peace. Really, that's all he can ask for.
“There's so much I wish I could tell you,” he says, blinking through tear filled eyes to keep her in his vision.
He thinks of all that has happened to him since she disappeared. In some ways, he’s the same person he was all those years ago. In other ways, he is completely changed. He wants her to know him as he is. To know who her big brother has become.
“I'm going to be a father.”
The words leave his mouth unrestrained, but she seems to understand his need to say them. She smiles softly, tilting her head in what could either be a teasing or truly genuine response.
“I know,” he says with a chuckle. “You think I'll be any good?”
Her answer comes in the featherlight touch of her hand against his, and it feels sincere. He sees flashes of her memories of them together, playing games, walking together to her piano lessons after school, him setting out a TV dinner for her on the nights neither of their parents were home to feed them… He knows what she's trying to say, and it warms his heart, even if he can't hear her reassurance with his own ears.
Her fingers brush over the back of his hand, and he follows their path with his eyes until she lands on his bare ring finger. When he looks up at her, he finds an inquisitive look on her face that almost makes him laugh.
It's strange, to be with his baby sister as an adult. Marriage was the furthest thing from his mind when he'd last seen her. Back then, his only thought was what could happen on the next episode of Star Trek or whether he could convince his father to let him go to summer camp on the mainland that summer. But now, he's all grown up, and in a way, so is she.
“Yeah,” he says, responding to her unspoken question. Smiling quietly to himself, he pulls out the chain that holds his ring from beneath his shirt and dangles it out in front of her. Her eyes instantly light up, and she brings her forefinger up to his chest to touch the cool metal. Gently, like it might shock her.
“Dana,” he says boldly. He's not sure why, but he feels the need to tell her everything. She’s a ghost, or something very like it. The things of this world should no longer concern her. But she should know the name of her sister-in-law. That, at least, he can tell her. “Her name is Dana.”
Samantha looks happy. Relieved, even, which he thinks is strange. If anything, he's the one who should feel relieved, having found her after so long. But maybe she has cause for it, too. Maybe she's spent these years worried about him, just as he has worried for her.
Her small hand splays on his upper chest in a purposeful motion, near his collar bone on the left. He looks down at her hand and then back at her, trying to discern what question she may be asking now.
The scar there tingles, and for the first time, he feels a little guilty that he hasn't taken a little better care of himself. Standing in front of her now, he knows that's not what she would have wanted.
“Oh, uh, yeah,” he says, chuckling softly. “She's the one who shot me. But I’m okay now.”
The corners of Samantha’s lips turn up in a small smile, but she shakes her head. No, that's not what she was wondering.
His brows furrow, and he's about to tell her that he doesn't understand when her fingers start to tap rhythmically against his chest.
Thump thump. Thump thump. Thump thump.
The question mark at the end of the sentence is written on her face, and he finally makes the connection.
‘Do you love her?’ she's asking.
He grabs her hand, cupping it between his own much larger ones, and stares deep into her eyes. He won't lie, not to her.
“More than anything.”
Samantha gives a satisfied nod, a content smile on her face. He knows they don't have much time left, but there's still so much more he wishes he could say.
“I'm sorry I couldn't protect you,” he speaks, finally releasing the apology he's had stored up for over twenty years. “I'm sorry I couldn't save you.”
‘It's okay. I'm okay, now,’ her peaceful expression says. He feels her forgiveness as if it had been spoken aloud, and it's like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders.
‘You’ll be okay, too?’ she asks him next, the words voiced in the expectant tilt of her head.
He glances heavenward, willing the tears to subside for a few more minutes so he can get through this, but manages to smile and nod in response.
“Yeah. I think I'll be okay.”
-.-.-
She's just about to go looking for him when she sees his figure wandering back toward them. What he'd been doing in the woods, she can't begin to guess, but as he approaches, she levels him with a worried gaze.
His necklace is visible, resting atop his clothes instead of under them for once. It glints in the moonlight, and Scully briefly worries that someone will see, but there is no one here who would care.
“Mulder?” she asks. It takes all that is in her to resist the urge to touch him, to check him for physical injuries or other external signs of damage. He seems fine, but it's what goes on inside his head that really concerns her.
“It's over,” he answers in a calm voice.
His response doesn't do much to reassure her. Calm on the outside certainly doesn't mean calm on the inside, as she well knows, and she still worries he'll shut her out.
He should know by now that his search for the truth is as much hers as it is his.
“Are you okay?” she asks, prodding deeper in hopes he won't shut down.
He smiles at that, something about her words amusing him, and that offers her a little relief. The feeling only grows stronger as he pulls her into his arms, resting his head atop hers and swaying slightly on his feet.
“I'm okay,” he assures her, in a quiet voice meant only for her. “I'm free.”
She feels his arms tighten around her, and his voice drops even further, hardly more than a breath into the still night air when he speaks again, insistent.
“We're free.”
-.-.-
She's laying half asleep on top of the scratchy motel room quilt when his voice penetrates the comfortable silence. Despite what she'd told Skinner, she's not keen on letting him out of her sight. Not after what he'd gone through. He lays beside her, curled up under the covers and facing the wall, only the hum of the clunky air conditioner perched in the window to fill the quiet.
“I told her about you,” he reveals.
She stills. He'd mentioned seeing Samantha in the forest, of course. Talked about ethereal children playing in the clearing, the echoing sounds of their laughter and squeals of delight the only sounds he could hear.
Whether she believes him or not, she's relieved that it brought him closure.
The idea that they'd talked about her, however, has her hoping and praying that it’s true. She wishes she could have been there with him. Could have seen her with her own eyes, this girl who has so completely shaped both Mulder's life and hers.
“What did you say?” she asks calmly, staring fixedly up at the ceiling. Her curiosity in this matter makes her feel vulnerable, and the ensuing silence does nothing to ease her nerves.
With the rustle of sheets, though, he turns over, his knees bumping against her legs under the covers. She fights the compulsion to look at him, knowing that if she did, she’d be faced with the full intensity of the stare she feels prickling the side of her face.
He inches closer, the movements jostling the springy mattress, and he maneuvers his head until it's practically on her pillow. She feels his breath on her neck, the spiky ends of his hair brushing against her cheek, commanding the totality of her attention.
“Someday I'll tell you, Scully,” he whispers, curling deeper into the bed. His forehead nuzzles against her shoulder and her eyes fall shut, lost entirely to the sensation of him beside her. “I promise.”
~~~
Lovely tag list ♡: [if you would like to be added or removed, let me know!]
@today-in-fic @ao3feed-msr @agent-troi @angegova @baronessblixen @calimanc @captainsolocide @clo-thespin @cutemothman @danasculls @deathsbestgirl @edierone @enigmaticxbee @figureofdismay @frogsmulder @gillian-anderson-in-the-tardis @hippocampouts @invidiosa @monaiargancoconutsoy @msrafterdark @numinousmysteries @primrose19 @randomfoggytiger @skelavender @skylarksong @stephy-gold @teenie-xf @the-redhead-in-a-dress @vincentsleftear
#msr#txf#x files#xf fanfic#mulder and scully#my fanfiction#fox mulder#dana scully#of our own making#ooom#msr adoption fic#adoption
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"A human..."
-----
Anyone remember Law of Talos? Castle of Nations?
I got hit by a wave of nostalgia today and was like hmm yeah, I could go for some Castle of Nation doodles rn and then somehow it ended up becoming a whole fan comic of how my fav characters potentially met :'D
#dynart#castle of nations#karl#rachel#unknown person#unknown-person#nightmargin this one's for you bud#UP if you ever end up seeing this I hope you're doing well!#also sry if I made your characters ooc asfjsldk#Karl's just really fun to draw and I wanted to draw him w/silly faces :')#lot#law of talos#well not really but it's adjacent
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another super insulting part of the watcher situation i haven't rly seen ppl addressing much
ryan deadass saying smth like "nobody else on youtube has made tv quality content"
like... i really feel like it's important to highlight that bc not only do they obviously have no respect for their audience, but that statement shows they have no respect for their peers in the industry, either.
not to mention it is a shining example of bleeding arrogance to such a high degree, you will straight up fucking lie bc you're truly convinced you're that special when you're anything but.
there's been NUMEROUS online creators who were recognized by entertainment industry workers BECAUSE they made tv quality content & even full stop blockbuster quality content.
bo burnham started on youtube & is now one of the most wellknown & loved standup comedians of our generation, with numerous netflix specials & even a movie he wrote & directed under his belt.
the try guys, fellow ex-buzzfeed employees, had their own tv specials on food network (based off their youtube shows, btw) & a documentary made about them as well
rosanna pansino has also been on numerous food network shows both as a host & a judge
quinta brunsun, another fellow ex-buzzfeed employee, went on to create her own whole ass sitcom that has been highly praised
matpat cameo'd in the fnaf movie because of his theories & multiple other fnaf creators had small cameos through the employee of the month board easter egg
markiplier made multiple high-quality shows on youtube & is now working on a highly anticipated movie (he was also planned to cameo in the fnaf movie but couldn't due to conflicting schedules with his own movie)
hot ones got their own tv gameshow due to their popularity & they are still one of the most wellknown, beloved & respected internet shows
many short films made on youtube went on to premiere at film festivals & even in theaters
the hit horror film "talk to me" was created by youtubers rackaracka
webseries of actual fucking tv shows have also existed for literal decades
the list goes on.
to seriously think that overproduced bullshit is all you need to make "tv quality content" is not only tone-deaf, but shows they do not even know what they're talking about. many tv shows & huge blockbuster movies are made with absolutely microscopic budgets & small teams, & they still get praised & awarded for the passion, dedication, & creativity that shined brightly under those restrictions.
the blair witch project is probably the most wellknown & highly praised example of this, but it is far from the Only example
it is a whole other slap in the face, again ESPECIALLY when puppet history is one of their most popular shows, to spit in the face of internet history. to see the success of their predecessors, even ppl they fucking worked with at buzzfeed, & deny them of all their success & efforts to get where they ended up.
no, y'all are not the first people to make "tv quality content" on the internet. FAR from it. because your crap isn't even genuine "tv quality".
but you are the first ones to ever disrespect not only your audience, but your own fucking industry & your peers on this level.
& you are the first & i sorely hope the only fuckwads dumb enough to pull a stunt this fucking stupid, out of touch & utterly tone deaf.
#mine#watcher#sorry this is hopefully my last post but this pretention grated me#& im floored nobody has mentioned it#like sincerely how fucking dare you? what the fuck is wrong with you?#how far up your ass is that building long stick???#not to mention youtube is 18 fucking years old.#it is literally statistically impossible for a website as huge as youtube is to exist that long#& never have any 'tv quality' content on it. be mother fucking serious.#many ytbers were recognized by entertainment industry marvels BECAUSE they made content that was already tv quality#fuck off.
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love line
s. on a very drunk night, satoru exposes your crush on the famous mma fighter, and friend of yours, toji zenin
w.c. 12.3k
w. fem! reader, mma!toji! x reader , fluff!, smut!
a/n: this might not be proofread well but I hope yall enjoy. im very in love with this man!
"I can't believe I lost that stock today!"
you're out having drinks with your friends at a fancy bar in shibuya when satoru gets shitfaced drunk. the matter is nothing new. he's the lightweight of the group and doesn't care about getting home most of the time because he knows either you or suguru will take charge and take him home.
you're taking frequent sips of your whiskey as you watch one of the country's most successful business owners mope over a small, so very minuscule, fraction of his wealth fly by. suguru is sitting next to you at the booth and exchanges a look of 'idiot' in reference to the white haired man's sad life story. sukuna is in front of you and no look needs to be exchanged because he simply acts on his thoughts and gives satoru a smack on the back of his head.
and toji's at the center of the booth, smooshed between shoko and satoru. he's looking at satoru in mild amusement, a small smirk on his face at the fool's stupidity as he too drinks from a glass of whiskey. he's wearing a low scooped black long sleeve that probably costs a thousand dollars and rightfully so, it makes him look so handsome. the price nothing compared to the pay he makes as a world champion mma fighter.
you've known him for the better part of a year, a bit more actually. satoru met him near the end of your college career on a business whim with his father and has since made him a member of your friend group. you're not as close as you wish you could be, the immense nerves you have in fear of him even getting an inkling that you're attracted to him have always stopped you from initiating a more than necessary amount of text conversations or random phone calls. satoru could do that, you couldn't. god, you've even seen suguru have more dms with the raven haired fighter than you. even in the group chat all of you share, you can't bring yourself to connect with him aside from teaming up to tease satoru or sukuna.
the last thing you ever conversed with him on your phone was a conversation you, surprisingly, started. he had told you about this one taco place and said you would love it based on your shared interest of food. when you told him you'd try it, he had told you, 'better send me a picture when you're there.' and you did. he had sent a laughing emoji when he asked if you liked the food and you said, 'I'd step on lime juice covered shards of glass to eat this again.'
that was the last thing you'd see in your messages between each other.
he was close to four years older than all of you, except for sukuna, they were only a year apart. he had this endearing scar across his lip that curved so achingly whenever he smiled or grinned. he was built gorgeously, his back a sight to behold whenever you got to see him fight. and his eyes, fuck, the bright mix between grey and green always had you throwing a fit in your bed and wishing you could have him.
nevertheless, you go back to paying attention to satoru.
"you profit from so many other stocks satoru. that one stock is just a random occurrence."
"but the ladies won't want to go out with a guy who loses even one stock!" he looks up from where he's sprawled across the table, pouting at you.
"the fact that you're a millionaire at the age of 23 already gets enough ladies." you roll your eyes, unable to help the twitch of your lips at the sight of a little bit of drool seeping from the corner of his mouth
"it's not enough." he mutters
this time, you and sukuna share a deadpan face and you flick satoru's forehead, leaning only slightly across the table.
"yeah you're right. satoru gojo is such a loser for losing a stock, none of the girls are gonna want him now."
out of the corner of your eye, you see toji huff a little laugh at your antics, it makes your heart skip a beat a little that he finds you, even if its mostly satoru, funny.
"don't mock me!" satoru's cheeks are red as he scowls at you the best he can.
"she's not mocking." sukuna snorts, taking a swig of his beer.
"yea she is!" satoru points at you, "I never mock you about toji!"
everybody in the group stills except for satoru, who looks like he's still revved up about the subject.
much like cassie's reaction in euphoria when rue asked her how long she had been fucking nate, all you could do was nervously laugh.
"what–what are you talking about?"
you can feel your entire body starting to shake in fear. it was like you were in elementary again and some mean friend of yours was going to expose your crush on the popular boy of your grade. the fear was something you never thought you'd experience again.
"don't act stupidddd." satoru drags on, as if toji fucking zenin wasn't right next to him, "you're always talking about how bad you want toji and that ' I wish I could talk to him' bullcrap!" he says the last part in imitation of you with a high pitched voice.
suguru is staring at satoru in terror. sukuna is looking at you, in peril for you. shoko looks like she mentally checked out so she couldn't feel your embarrassment.
...and toji is staring at you, his eyes wide and mouth slightly agape, like he doesn't know what to say.
your phone is in your pocket. check. your purse is on your lap. check. satoru can pay for your tab when he comes to his senses. check.
all you can do is abruptly get up and start to dash away, ignoring the yell for you from suguru. you don't look back, pure peril and adrenaline taking over your body as you make it out of the bar as quickly as possible, thanking whatever god that you chose to wear the easiest pair of heels to walk today.
the metro, the metro, the metro.
you look around for a quick second, only taking a second to remember what way the metro was before you rush in its direction. you feel a buzz coming from your pocket when you do, and you can only figure its one of your friends, trying to get you to come back.
you ignore it and rush down the escalator to the metro, making a glance behind you and noting that nobody was behind you. thank god. however, it doesn't stop your pace and your heels click and clack you all the way to a seat on the train to your part of town.
fuck.
your entire body feels like its on fire and melting.
toji knows you like him.
fuck.
suguru
5 missed calls
shoko
girl where did you go?
sukuna
1 missed call
dude, since when do you run track
you have to stop yourself from bashing your head on the pole in front of you. shakily, you press on suguru's contact to call him. you would tell him you were going to home so he wouldn't need to worry. what's the worst that could happen by now anyway.
"y/n? hello?"
"I'm on the train home." you breathe
"that fast?" he doesn't exclaim, he's not the type to show his surprise so blatantly like his counterpart but you can hear his concern at the fact.
"yeah." you murmur, stomach churning now that the adrenaline's worn off.
suguru sighs, "satoru is scared you're going to kill him now."
and you can hear his wails in the background. 'no she's going to come after me!' 'I need to up my security!' 'is that her on the phone?! y/n pleasseee forgive me!'
your nose scrunches in annoyance and you blurt, "I'm not going to kill you stupid idiot!"
"she says she's not going to kill you." suguru says to satoru and you can hear what you presuppose is suguru pushing the drunk fiend off of him before he continues talking to you, "about toji–"
you feel your stomach drop at the mention of the name, he's still there with them, fully aware of your feelings for him
"ah! don't wanna hear it!"
the beginning of a call to your name from suguru went ignored as you immediately pulled your phone back and pressed the little red button.
the sky had literally fallen for you and now you had to deal with the aftermath—which you weren’t doing right this second, due to what you just did to your friends, but you’d do it eventually. being an adult made sure you had to face it sometime soon. its just that toji zenin learning from satoru gojo that you had a massive crush on him had not ever been something you expected. hell you never expected him to find out in any sort of way, ever. god, he was never supposed to know.
well, your fun was over, you had to move on now. if you wanted your friend group to stay normal and go back to the way it was, the looming existence of your feelings for the world renowned fighter had to die. you could tough it through that, you could come back and say ‘i thought it over and don’t have feelings for you anymore toji so don’t worry about acting weird with me. we’re casual friends like we’ve always been.’
a particular rattle of the train had you planting your feet on the floor purposefully and waiting for it to fully stop before you got up. you were five minutes from your apartment now, the walk you started now would pass by in a flash and you’d get to wallow in your misery soon.
ordering takeout sounded nice and so did watching your favorite show, especially after a warm shower, it had been quite chilly tonight.
you had no room to really think about your predisposition in regards to toji zenin the next day, having to attend work then go to a work party afterwards at some high end restaurant/bar located at the top floor of a skyscraper overlooking tokyo. at work, you had to host various meetings and delegate new responsibilities you planned out the day before to your peers. it was all very hectic since it was all a completely new project. you had barely looked at your phone and even if you did, there wouldn’t be much to fret over, your friends had busy lives too. and right after, you had to head straight home and get ready for the party later that evening.
you were sporting a tight black dress with light red flowers embellished across it later that night while you drank champagne and conversed with your coworkers. it had been a decent night so far and you had photos taken of you along with your peers, they’d probably be posted on the company website or social media.
there had been some interesting work tea to listen in on too, your rival company was involved in it too and you were smushed against your coworkers in a red leather lined booth with dim lighting to listen in on all of it. it was more than worthy of your time by the end of it, you deemed. you would have to tell shoko and sukuna about it whenever you got the chance next time. yes, sukuna liked tea, he was an ass who loved hearing about ass things happening.
the craving for a new glass of champagne sent you to the bar the moment the story ended, so you sat up on one of the chairs lining it while you waited for the bartender to get to you. you could see your ceo already getting shit-faced from where you were and it was funny, she always did that and always managed to get embarrassed the next time everyone saw her in the office.
“are you part of that office party?”
a large and handsome figure suddenly appeared before you, blocking the view of your boss. he was wearing a rather expensive looking black suit with a silky blue dress shirt under, all of which couldn’t hide the obvious hard and sturdy muscles under them due to the complimentary tailoring. when you took in his face, you had to hold back the urge to widen your eyes. he was excessively good looking, with sharp and devilish features sketched across his face, intertwining hand in hand with his semi-long brown wavy hair pushed back and away from his face, save for a singular pretty strand falling near his brow and down his cheek. and that scar near his eye, it seemed so familiar…
you had to blink yourself back into reality when you realized you were taking a bit too long to answer his question.
“yes,” you finally responded, trying your best to remain neutral and politely smile at him
he leaned against the open spot of the bar table between your seat and the empty one behind him, one hand in his pocket as he smiled down at you, “you’re very beautiful.”
your spit got caught in your throat at the blatant admission, this time unable to hide the way your head reeled back a little and started sporting a rising heat on your cheeks in slight shock, “oh–i–thank you.”
his smile grew wider at your flustered state and he reached a hand out for you to shake, “aizen sosuke.”
so at to remain polite, you shook his hand and repeated your name back to him in return for his, but in reality your head was falling in on itself
him.
fuck.
that’s aizen sosuke, the other world renowned mma fighter that you were very aware of due to his competitive nature and rivalry with toji. as far as you were aware, toji absolutely hated him, and you were sure aizen did too. anytime the rivalry came up into the conversation you saw toji’s eyes darken and his posture straighten in seething hate for the man. if satoru felt like getting on his nerves, as he did with everyone, he always knew to mention the tall brunette to get a visceral reaction out of him. it was bad. wait–
they have a fight tomorrow.
oh god, this was all types of fucked up. you've been pining after toji this whole year and he just found out yesterday and now you're talking to his rival who's very obviously flirting with you.
...but he was aizen sosuke, aside from that, and he just called you beautiful.
“is there any particular celebration happening?” he tilted his head to the side a little in curiosity
“no, not this time,” you breathed, trying to shake the nerves off, “my boss just likes to treat us frequently and…well herself.”
“is that the only occasion where you get treated as of late?”
suave
and you can’t help the small knowing smile starting to creep up your lips, “as of late, yes, although she mostly does it in drinks.”
“dinner isn’t often?” he leans a little closer, his lips quirking up a little
“no,” you shake your head, aware of the way your eyes are smiling back at him too.
“allow me to treat you then,” he says confidently, watching as the bartender slides you your champagne
“In exchange for…?” you quirk a brow up at him as you take a sip
“what are you willing to give?” he bites back with a canine smile, still looming over you and infringing himself a little into your space even.
“nothing.” you snark back smoothly, pressing a finger into the middle expanse of his chest. he’s really sturdy, you note before continuing, “dinner with me should be a prize enough.”
he laughs at your response handsomely, reeling away from your space in accordance with the finger of yours pushing him away, “i’ll pay for everything. hell, send me the receipt for your outfit if you feel like it. i’m sure some sort of gratitude will overcome you.”
“ravenous,” you tut your glass in his direction, “i’ll politely decline then mr sosuke.”
“you haven’t even allowed yourself to grace over the thought of spending a night in my sheets,” he’s leaned down to speak so sensually next to your ear, “if your line of work is a stress, i can make you forget all about it.”
“i’ve allowed myself to grace it,” you speak back lowly, matching his game, “and i can only see you adding onto my stress by the end of it.”
“you’re oddly confident about that,” he smiles deviously, turning his head so that you’re face to face with him, “i aim to please, if any.”
“to please?” you question in haughty disbelief, squinting your eyes playfully at him
“to please,” he’s still smiling, eyes fleeting to your lips for a second, “i could relay the details if you’d like.”
“that’s unecessary,” you laugh at his boldness, turning your head away from his, “but it’s not something i’m interested in. im only looking for stability right now.”
“how unfortunate for the both of us tonight then,” he retreats back into his space before reaching into his pocket and taking out his phone, then splaying it out in his hand for you to take, “at least leave me your number. i can be capable of stability for the right woman.”
you feel your phone buzzing erratically that night, when you’ve washed away the night’s events and lay comfortably in your bed with a glass of water cradled to you. upon first looking at your messages, you were greeted by a paparazzi picture of you, courtesy screenshot from gojo, and aizen speaking at the bar. it was one of you smiling and looking up and him while he was leaning down, face inches away from yours as he returned your toothy grin.
satoru
img_736
??????
is that aizen sosuke?!
dude are you fucking him rn
sukuna
take one of his trophy belts when you come back home
shoko
lol he looks hot in blue
suguru
satoru, aren’t you supposed to be on your flight back from dubai right now?
satoru
first class has excellent cell service ha
and y/n hasn’t answered
aizen def has his hands busy rn
shoko
it’s only been five minutes since you sent that picture
plus she’s at her work party, i think. she probably just met him there
satoru
who cares
bud looks like he’s ready to pounce
sukuna
heard he likes bdsm shit
satoru
send pics of his paddle lol y/n
suguru
both of you are despicable
shoko
let us know if he has good stamina
suguru
the three of you
all those messages had been sent ten minutes ago and you gaped at your friends’ mischief
y/n
I AM NOT WARMING AIZEN SOSUKE’S BED RN!
satoru
liar, he’s in your mouth rn isn’t he
y/n
literally shut up toru
i’m in my bed. no aizen near
sukuna
sure you are
you looked real horned up smiling at him in the pics
y/n
LMAO
he was a little funny ok, i couldn’t help laughing
shoko
oh he was funny hm
suguru
actually worried a little at that statement
wdym he was a little funny
y/n
im going to crucify all of you
he tried getting me to warm his bed and was very smooth abt it, but i said no
gave him my number though :p since he asked for it
satoru
was that before or after he told you you have great boobs
img_737
could not have been more obvious about it
the stupid texts from your friend had you laughing out loud and setting down your glass of water on your bedside table before you pressed on the microphone button and sent a loud, giggly voice message for emphasis of your previous point.
“I didn’t fuck aizen! and he didn’t need to tell me i have great boobs, i saw him staring at them the entire time.”
sukuna
you are not living this down if we see hickeys on you tomorrow
satoru
what he said ^^
and there came the realization,
toji and aizen’s fight was tomorrow
and all of you always showed up to toji’s fights ever since you befriended him
hell, fuck, you hadn’t even remembered he was in this group chat too. fuck fuck fuck. was this good? was this bad? he hadn’t said anything and he never really took too long to answer sometimes. no, this was the night before a fight, he’s probably already knocked out right now considering the late hour. but still, what of when he woke up to the messages tomorrow? would this help ease the knowledge of your being into him? oh she’s already flirting with some guy she’s not into me as much as a i thought so i dont feel as awkward around her anymore. but what if he thought you were doing this purposefully to get a reaction out of him and that you were so obsessed with him, you did it for that sole reason. you didn’t even want to come to the fight anymore. could you get out of it somehow? no, stupid satoru knows you’re free tomorrow and that would add more drama to your ‘up and dash’ incident from the bar yesterday night.
you turned around and flailed on your bed, screaming into your pillow in the process.
regrettably, you show up to toji’s fight the following afternoon, trying your best to suppress the notion that aside from having to be near toji later, that aizen was going to see you too, and that whole ordeal would be something different entirely for you to deal with.
you dressed pretty well, you always did, but you added a little more effort than the usual when picking your outfit for the day. it was ufc fight night worthy and showed a generous amount of skin, the pictures you would upload later that night to instagram would be amazing.
sukuna snickered when he saw you, pulling you in for a quick friendly hug as he said, “wanted zenin to see that you really didn’t fuck sosuke?”
you gaped at him and held back a smile as you smacked him with your purse, “i will hurt you ‘kuna.”
“try me, idiot,” he bites back with a snarky smile before sinking into one of the cage-side seats toji always managed to get for you guys. you had already said hi to the rest of your friends before getting to him and all felt normal until that dumbass made his dumb comment about your crush on toji. satoru, had of course, without a doubt, inspected you for hickeys and love bites immediately upon your arrival and had given you a suspicious look, as if to say, ‘you got away with it this time.’ he was always ridiculous like that, trying to cling onto random drama, even if he gaslit himself, all for his own fun.
“i really did not expect to meet him last night at the bar,” you sighed after you sat down, taking in the bustling crowds of people gathering in the arena with him
“fuckin hilarous,” he all but barks evilly in amusement at your predicament before taking a swig of his beer, “paparazzi is gonna have a field day thinking you’re aizen’s girl now that you’re here.”
“WAIT!”
you immediately sit upright at the realization and turn your body towards sukuna, jaw hung open and eyes wide in panic.
“holy shit. what the fuck.” you start having an existensial crisis and sukuna, the great friend he is starts snickering at your dilemma, finding humor in your panicked expression
“go sit near his side of the arena,” he jeers, “there’s some open seats.”
you run your hands down your face, stressed, “i thought the worst i had to deal with would be aizen seeing me here.”
“still is,” sukuna is still smirking at you evilly, “everything is shit about your day today.”
and then the lights dim and sporadic blue lights start sparkling across the arena
“get ready to say hi to your boyfriends,” sukuna teases with a canine grin before leaning over to see who would do their walkout first.
and it’s toji first.
he’s so beautiful and rugged, wearing skin tight black shorts that highlight every muscle underneath them and his eyes are glowing so pretty against the fluroscents, even if he has a murderous look on them right now. his staff are behind him as he walks through the arena, and looking at them almost distracts you from the way toji holds you in a cutthroat stare the moment he spots you, and only you.
you can hear satoru’s sly voice saying from near you, “nice.”
too scared to look away from toji, you can only speak to your friends without turning to address them, “why is toji giving me a death stare?”
“cause you fucked aizen,” satoru’s teasing lilt jeers
“yeah,” shoko agrees
“i did not fuck aizen,” you bite through gritted teeth as toji walks into the fighting cage, eyes still on you.
“tell that to him,” sukuna snickers
“don’t think about it too much,” suguru tries to comfort
then the lights starts blaring furiously again and aizen’s presence is announced throughout the entire arena. and you were really right about that suit being unable to hide those muscles, because without any clothing over them…they were enormous and mouth-watering.
all of you watch as he, accompanied by his staff too, walks to the cage, handsome smirk planted on his face.
“would you look at that,” satoru starts, “he doesn’t have your scratch marks all over his back.”
“ha ha,” you sarcastically mutter back when aizen enters the cage and he situates himself in his side, taking in his surroundings, like those sitting in the cage side seats.
like you.
you know he’s spotted you because of the way his eyebrows raise in surprise and the wolfish smile that starts forming on his face the moment you make eye contact. and you know toji’s noticed too because of the way he turns to you too and keeps looking between you and the fighter in front of him.
satoru whistles while sukuna howls, both leaning down to elbow you from either side much to your annoyance
“scratch the paparazzi thinking youre here for aizen being the worst thing capable of happening today,” satoru sighs haughtily, “if toji loses, you’re in for it.”
you spin your head to him, panicked, “what?! is he gonna stop being my friend?!”
satoru shrugs, nonchalant, “don’t know, just keep watching sweetheart.”
so you did and it was unnerving.
when the fight started and toji and aizen started squaring up against each other, you could see aizen start speaking to him. his mouth was moving a little and a smile crept up on it when he jeered his chin in your direction, all of which you saw toji answer back with what looked like single word short answers and a sneer on his face.
“wonder what they’re talking about,” suguru questioned softly
“i have a small idea,” satoru said under his breath before toji threw the first punch and the chaos ensued.
the fight consisted of a lot of hisses and ows coming from everyone, including you, in the arena. toji and aizen were really putting in the work to beat the crap out of each other. ten minutes had passed and toji was already bleeding from his mouth and aizen had blood falling down his nose. both of their bodies were beat too, red splotches blossoming all over them as a reaction to the various kicks and punches both of them sent to each other.
however it looked like it was reaching its cusp when aizen got toji in a headlock and muttered something while looking at you.
which must have given toji enough energy to quickly peel himself off and knock his face in a couple of times. and when aizen stood up straight after it to counter, he was bleeding profusely from his mouth and smiled so devilshly at you before wandering into toji’s space again.
“hot,” shoko commented while gnawing on a toothpick
and that continued, the smiles at you from him, with his questionably hot bleeding mouth while he sported a beating from toji or gave it to him. but it started dying down when toji actually started knocking him in so close to his own victory. and there wasn’t much aizen could do until toji pinned him down and forced him into submission,
all while aizen stared at you and even had the gall to wink while his loss was announced
satoru whistled again, “the balls on this guy. surprised you aren’t soaked right now.”
people were starting to filter out when the winner and loser were officially announced and were beginning to get escorted back to their locker rooms.
“come on,” sukuna muttered as he drank the last of his beer and got up with the rest of you to go to toji’s room.
when all of you are rushed into toji’s locker room, you somehow wound up standing next to him, where he’s seated on a bench and wiping the blood off his face with a hand towel.
“congrats,” you mumble, along with the others
“what’d he say to you during the fight,” leered satoru, both of his hands in his pockets and his shades over his eyes again now that he doesn’t have to watch the fight.
“none of your business,” muttered toji after wiping his face again, “where’s my fucking water?”
“here sir, here,” one of his goonies said while weaving through the people in the room and nervously handing him a water bottle
“thanks,” he huffs with a small glare before opening the bottle and starting to chug from it
“who do you fight after this,” sukuna asks
toji shrugs and looks towards his manager, who then starts to explain the next sequence of events after this win. and it lasts for thirty minutes before everyone falls quiet and toji gets up abruptly
“alright, get out. ‘m gonna change,” he all but demands for everyone to leave ominously
and you listen to his words, letting the half closest to the door start to filter out before you make to move your feet and suddenly toji’s holding onto your arm.
“where do you think you’re going?” he huffs when the last person leaves the room and the door clicks shut
you feel like a deer caught in headlights and feel yourself start to grow nervous, “outside…to let you change?”
“you gonna fuck him?”
and you gaslight yourself into pretending you don’t know what he’s talking about, “who?”
he deadpans at you with bored and almost annoyed green eyes and you have to look away from him when you murmur, “no…i don’t know. listen, me having a thing for you isn’t that serious and if i entertain aizen it isn’t so you can finally notice me or something, i just–”
“when the fuck did i say i never noticed you before?”
your eyes widen and you didn’t know what to say
“what? you think it’s so easy for me to try and talk to your dumbass too?” he pulls you closer by the arm he’s already holding, scowl etched across his face
“what,” is the only thing you can get out in your nerves
toji glares at you, “when silver spoon said you wish you could talk to me, did it ever cross your smartass that i don’t know how to talk to you either?”
“no,” you let out meekly, struggling to make eye contact with him and feeling your heart rate go up by a million beats per minute
“so,” toji tugs on your arm again, “are you gonna fuck him?”
you look away to a locker near when you mumble, “do you not want me to?”
“no, i fucking don’t.”
“then i won’t.”
“great,” he lets go of you and now centers himself to stand in front of you, quirking a brow up when he asks, “you gonna let me take you out on a date?”
you have to fight the urge to fiddle with your hands as you look back up at him, “when?”
“tonight.”
“shouldn’t you rest after a fight!?” your eyes almost bulge out of their sockets, pupils darting to the blood staining his lips
“not if i don’t feel like it,” he shrugs, before gaining a threatening aura, “or do you wanna bite the bullet and get lunch right now? you won’t have time to get a pretty dress on.”
panicked at his suggestion, you mindlessly put your hands against his chest and plead, “no! tonight is fine, tonight is fine!”
“thought so,” he huffs back at you, corners of his mouth quirking up a little
and put on a pretty dress you did, a red sultry one that teetered between innocence and sex. it had toji staring you down as you took the unfathombly large bouquet of flowers he brought for you from his arms and set it on your kitchen island.
“where are we going?” you turned to look at him while he drove you to whatever destination he had in mind for tonight, playing with the metal clasp of your handbag
toji had been leaned against the driver side door of his car, with one hand holding onto his chin while the other steered, he seemed oddly pensive.
“allen’s,” he gruffly swallowed before straightening up and putting both of his hands on the steering wheel. you weren’t surprised by the mention of the michelin star restaurant, he could afford it and had the status for it anyways
so you couldn’t help but speak, “are you nervous?”
his entire body tensed visibly and his eyes slightly widened, glancing at you for a half second before looking back at the road and relaxing, “what do you think smartass?”
a smile crept its way onto your face, “well i am too.”
“you gonna run away again?” he side eyed you with a slight gleam of mischief
your face flushed and your mouth gaped, turning to look at the road too now instead of at him, crossing your arms as you huffed, “what else was i supposed to do? not like you had anything to say either, had your mouth open like a fish when i got exposed…”
“least i didn’t run,” he huffed back
“well you didnt try to contact me after,” you sasssed, sensing his growing irritation
“you’re a real pain in my ass,” he glared at you, “you know that right?”
“and you’re not acting like the guy who just won a fight earlier today.”
toji had just parked outside the restaurant and splayed his hands across the steering wheel, trying to control his breathing from what you could tell.
“i didn’t know what to say, okay negative nancy?” he finally turned to you, green eyes striking under the night sky and neon lights from the restaurant name shining through, “and then when i was going to call your pretty ass the next day, i saw the pictures of fuck face raw dogging you at the bar.”
“he didn’t fuck me,” you whined in complaint as you splayed yourself across the center console of his car and batted your scorned eyes at him, “how many times do i have to tell you guys?”
“well you were real close to,” he smirked at you before something serious fell across his features and his eyes darted to your handbag, “matter a fact, block his number right now.”
your head perked up at the demand and you blinked at him, “i dont have his number.”
toji squinted his eyes at you, “you said you gave him your number in the group chat.”
“yeah but he hasn’t called me or anything, so i never got his.”
the ravenette rolled his eyes, taking his keys out of the ignition and pointing at you with them, “when he does, you better fucking block him.”
“i will,” you nod obediently, watching as he starts to get out of the car
you move to take off your seat belt and he leans back into the vehicle with a warning look, “i’ll unbuckle it, don’t move.”
and he does, closing the door of his side before walking over to you and opening the door to kneel in and take off your seat belt, then giving you a helping hand to get out.
“thank you,” you murmur appreciatively as you watch your step before landing a quick kiss to his cheek. and if it affected him, you wouldn’t know, he said nothing and held onto your arm softly while he guided the both of you to the restaurant entrance.
“you look hot by the way,” he breathed out before opening the door and entering with you, giving you no chance to respond when the hostess immediately greeted the both of you and began to lead you to a table.
it was intimate, the table. it was small and dainty, relatively little space would be between you and the gruff fighter. and both of your seats were at the same corner of the table, making the distance shorter than it would have been sitting across from each other.
toji instinctively pulled out your chair for you and muttered out a sound of acknowledgement when you thanked him as he sat down.
“you gonna drink?” he quirked a brow at you, gesturing towards the menu of alcohol planted right in front of the both of you
“a little red wine sounds nice,” you try to say politely, “you?”
“nah,” he responds while raising a hand for a waiter to come by, “i need to drive you home. you like sweet or bitter wine?”
“sweet.”
and so he orders a wine for you to drink right off the bat, saying a thank you as the waiter walks away to get the bottle.
“does your mouth hurt?”
toji hums mindlessly, as if his head had been somewhere else before he perks up again and says, “come again sweetheart?”
the pet name had you a little fluststered in speaking again, feeling your body grow hot as you gestured to his mouth meekly, “your mouth, it was bleeding after the fight, does it still hurt?”
the corners of his mouth start to rise as he encroaches into your space, eyes lusty, “nothing a little kiss won’t make better.”
your breath hitches and you feel like pushing him away to hide how easily he’s affected you, “you’re shameless.”
toji is inches away from your face now, and he tilts his head in fake hurt, “i took those punches from the lowlife trying to steal my girl away, doesn’t that mean i deserve a reward?”
you try to keep your face serious as you deadpan, willing your need to laugh away as best you can, “your girl?”
“my girl,” toji grins sleazily
you’re about to bite back when the waiter comes back with the bottle of wine toji ordered for you and the menus for tonight’s dinner. toji takes the bottle from the waiter and insists on serving you your glass himself while you begin to look at the menu. choosing a meal was difficult with all the delicious options available, every description making your mouth water, you wanted everything. when you complained to toji about not knowing what to get because of all the options, he brushed you off while still reading his menu.
“get whatever you want, we can come again and again until you try everything.”
well that’s one way to make you horny
so you settled for these sauteed calamari rings with a savory sounding sauce while toji got a steak under the pretense that ‘i need to stock up on protein after fights.’
while the both of you eat, good conversation comes up and the previous tense awkwardness of the both of you goes away.
“i haven’t dated anyone since my sophomore year of college,” you say while taking a sip of wine to wash down a bite of calamari
toji quirks up a brow in disbelief at your statement while he takes a sip of his water, a scowl almost, as if he’s offended for you, “what about that emo lookin kid—“
you tilt your head in confusion, not being able to pinpoint who he’s talking about, “emo?”
toji rolls his eyes, snapping his fingers at himself, “that kid, can’t even remember his name, with the blue hair, you know–“
“grimmjow?!” you gape, eyebrows knit
“yea that fucker,” toji nods before he takes a bite of his steak
“I never even got to have a thing with grimmjow,” you deadpan, swiveling the glass of wine in your hand, “we kissed like once and then he told me he wasn’t ready for anything the next day.”
“silver spoon made it seem like you guys fucked.”
you sigh in agonizing pain that your white haired freak best friend loves to say you fuck frequently, “satoru says that because he feels my dry spell more than me. horny ass. he wishes i could get laid.”
“what,” toji snickers, “haven’t fucked in a year or something?”
this was going to be a pain
“three years,” you clarify, staring at him with bored eyes because you know you’re going to get a reaction because of this, “with my ex was the last time. and i lost it to him.”
toji eyebrows immediately raise and he looks at you like you’re insane, “you’re lying.”
“don’t you think id rather say i just got laid two weeks ago or something?” you quizically ask him
“well yeah,” he scoffs, “but i'd rather you not at that point.”
you knowingly squint your eyes at him, jabbing a fork of calamari, “why’s that?”
and you laugh when toji drops his napkin back onto his lap very done with you and blankly stares you down.
“how long have you liked me anyway,” you continue, hoping and praying on the small chance that toji pined for you as much you did for him so that you didn’t feel as pathetic
he stays quiet for a bit, as if he didn’t hear you, and you feel embarrassed that you’re about to repeat himself until he looks up from his meal and says, “ever since business boy posted a picture of you before i got the chance to meet all of you.”
hoping and praying did you well
you had to physically stop yourself from giggling like a schoolgirl by holding your hands in fists under the table, “and..why did you never make a move?”
“i thought you had a crush on sukuna for a good four months,” he shrugged and if you were seeing right, there was a pink hue dusting the tips of his ears, “after i figured out you didn’t, i pussied out because i didn’t wanna make you uncomfortable.”
then his eyes fixated on you, “what about you huh?”
you felt yourself growing small in your seat, beginning to play with the ends of your dress, “well, when we met and you told lent me your jacket because my cardigan was thin…”
“both of us have been idiots this entire year huh,” toji joked, laughing at himself and you
“yeah,” you meekly agreed, taking a woeful gulp of wine until you came to a realization, “wait, is that why sukuna thought you didn’t like him for the first few months of knowing him?!”
“i have no idea what you’re talking about,” the fighter grunted, looking to the side as he drank another gulp of water
by the time your date with toji ended you were as happy as could be, having felt fulfilled that yes you were on a date with your long time crush, but that you were also very compatible and had amazing chemistry. you kissed briefly, outside the restaurant when your heel got caught on a pebble and he held you upright so as to stop you from falling. you pulled him in for it to thank him and he held onto your waist so fucking well, the fact that his hand was almost the same size as your back was dizzying.
he had asked for another date the following afternoon for brunch with him and you couldn’t deny, wanting to spend more time with him. you were telling satoru this on the phone before he said…
“so when are you guys getting it on?”
if you could, you’d throw something at him through the phone right now.
“you are such a pervert!”
“i am not,” satoru defends, “okay maybe a little, ha. but in all honesty when are you two going to rip off the bandaid? it’s not like you’re strangers and you have to do that awkward period of oh im respecting your space crap. oh my god, does he know you’ve never gotten head?”
your cheeks flush hot, “no.”
“this is hilarious,” satoru jeers, “try to last longer than two seconds when he eats it.”
you sprawl across your bed and almost scream, “stop, because im going to be really embarrassed if that happens!”
“i think it’d be a miracle if it didn’t happen,” you can hear the millionaire open another candy wrapper before stuffing the sweet into his mouth, “so when are you sealing the deal?”
“when even is the appropriate time?” you gaze at your ceiling, feeling hot all over your body and embarrassed that you’re talking to your friend about having sex with one of your other friends
“personally, i think he would’ve done it by tonight already.”
“you think?”
“he looks at your boobs when you aren’t looking.”
“what?! why didnt you tell me this before?” you sit upright in your bed
“him wanting to fuck you is obvious, i just didn’t know if he liked you, so i kept it to myself.”
“unfair,” you huff, falling back into your comforter, staring at the ceiling in silence until you felt your phone beginning to vibrate
pending call - toji
“toru, ill catch up with you some other time, toji’s calling me,” you usher out and immediately accept the incoming call before the snow haired devil can say something cheesy.
“hi,” you breathe out
“hey,” toji’s gruff voice responds through the small speaker, “how are you feelin?”
“about the food or you?” you tease
“both.”
“wish i could’ve eaten some of that peach cobbler the couple next to us ordered,” you fluff up a pillow behind you, wondering if you should go forward with a thought before you think fuck it, and say, “wish i could’ve kissed you more.”
“i can get you both angel.”
“what are you doing?”
“just put some patches on my back, ‘s sore,” theres a moment of silence before he quips, “was thinking about you.”
“me too,” you sigh, hoping he can’t hear how dreamy you unintentionally sounded
“what about me?” you can hear the smirk in his voice
and you indulge him a little, just to fuck with him, “how big your hands are.”
“you like ‘em?”
“mhm, they looked nice with the bruises on them too.”
“ ‘s that why you kept holding onto them?”
“maybe,” you watch as you kick your feet up in the air, finding something to exert your energy
“yours are soft,” he breathes, “i like it.”
“you know what else is soft?”
“what?” you can hear his energy shift
“my hair, i use really good conditioner and product.”
“fuckin tease.”
you turned around in your bed to hold your head in one of your hands, “what ever do you mean by that toji?”
“you always pull shit like this and you know it. you made me think i forgot your birthday last week.”
you laugh at his offense, noting that you did get a good scare out of him last week when you pretended he said your birthday wrong, “okay that was a one time thing though.”
“and then you told me the chinese restaurant i sent you to had shitty lomein.”
he had recommened the restaurant to you last month based on the premise that the lomein was good as hell and that you’d like it. you didn’t think he’d fall for it, but you told him it was crap just to fuck with him and he couldn’t function for a minute.
“okay okay maybe i do pull shit like that every once in a while,” you digress
“every once in a while…” the scowl on toji’s face is quite loud when he responds
“every once in a while,” you punctuate with a sing songy voice
after your brunch date with toji the following day, he took you vase shopping because when he showed up at your place to pick you up he had another very large bouquet of flowers in his hands for you. and unfortunately, you couldn’t even fit all the flowers from the night before into the three vases you had.
he took you to a high end home furniture store that you were pretty sure millionaires only shopped in, your theory being proven when a rug you passed by was the exact same one satoru kept in his apartment and shamelessly replaced when shoko got red wine on it.
“woah,” you say when you get to the vase section, “this is way different than the ones at ikea.”
“see anything you like?” toji moves to stand next to you while you take in the vast number of beautiful vases in front of you
and at first you think you have nothing to say, unable to pick from all the beauties in splayed out for you, until your eyes spot a pretty almost seashell shaped vase, with defining ridges, colored gold, it was beautiful and you wouldn’t mind a number of those decorating your apartment.
“i like this one,” you murmur as you walk up to it, noticing the slight iridescent shimmers on it
you can see toji raise his hand and make some sort of mannerism towards someone, you assume a worker, out of the corner of your eye after you say that.
which led to the predicament of accompanying toji into your apartment numerous times as he carried the multiple boxes carrying the same vase into your apartment. you weren’t allowed to, he had demanded. he even eyed you threatningly when you made to pick up your own box to take with him.
by the time he had brought in the last box you were very antsy, trying to find something to do in return for him like offer a water or food, or what fucking ever, just anything in exchange for his buying you multiple luxury vases and carrying them into your apartment.
“i did that shit because i like you and i think you deserve it,” toji huffed, eyeing you pointedly while he accepted the glass of water you had offered him, “don’t get all weird.”
“okay…” you nervously looked to the side as you traced invisible lines across your kitchen island, “at least sit for a while before we have to unpack them and put the flowers in them. please?”
the tall and buff fighter let your small and nimble hands drag him to your couch by the arm and then guide him to sit on it, with you following after.
“I was watching grey’s anatomy before you came over,” you start, looking at him earnestly, “do you wanna watch some with me?”
toji set the glass of water on your coffee table then splayed his arm behind you on the couch and nodded, “go for it.”
“okay,” you smiled lightly then, much to his obvious surprise, crawled over him and reached for the remote next to him, tucked into the corner of the couch just a little, then went back to your original spot next to him.
your eyes were focused on opening netflix when he spoke, “is that the uh–the show with the doctors and crap?”
you pressed play when you set the remote off to the side and leaned more into his space, “yeah! it’s a little cheesy, but it’s fun to watch, at least before a certain season. after that it just goes downhill.”
“alright,” the ravenette said, leaning closer to your space too
“glow in the dark,” toji exhales a light laugh at the mention of glow in the dark condoms
“ever tried those?” you look up at him from where you’re tucked underneath his arm, hand splayed across his chest and abdomen area
“never knew they were a thing,” he smirks, “you?”
“i don’t even know what head’s like,” you roll your eyes, “as if i would’ve gotten to the exploration stage of fucking.”
you can see toji visibly stiffen at your comment
“what?”
“there’s no way in hell that fucker didn’t eat you out,” he’s sat up straighter now, eyes pining you under his gaze
“well there is a way in hell,” you move your hands as if to gesture ‘it is what it is’, “he didn’t like the taste.”
“what, he got a wonder dick or something?” he looked annoyed, “that do the job?”
“i did not ever orgasm, so no,” you laugh, finding it funny how pissed he’s getting on your part, “why are you so pissy for me zenin?”
he gives you one glance before looking forward at the tv to avoid your gaze, sighing a little, “it’s stupid, is all.”
“me not getting head?” you’re still staring at him even though he’s watching george and alex bicker on the tv
“yeah,” he nods
and satoru’s words play through your mind again, ‘personally, i think he would’ve done it by tonight already.’
but you shake the thought away before you start something stupid and reassume your cuddling position next to toji, watching as it gets revealed that the neurosurgeon lover has a wife already. the previous piece of information making toji uncharacteristically scrunch his nose and look as if he wants to spit at the screen.
“what,” he looks at you, eyes waiting in earnest for the next episode, “that the end? start the next one.”
“are you sure,” you giggle at his sudden interest in the soap opera.
toji sinks into his spot on the couch, bringing you closer to him with a hand on the skin just above your knee, “yeah, play it.”
while you take the remote to start the new season, you laugh, then place it down before leaning up and placing a chaste kiss on the fighter’s lips, “you’re cute.”
he gives you a bored look, obvious in expressing that cute is not something he wants to be described as, but you can also feel the grip he has on you twitch for a second.
“what?” you smile, “can i not call you cute?”
“can’t you find something better?” he says, trying not to roll his eyes
“not when you’re acting cute,” you sit up a little and grab his face to place a kiss on his forehead, then his nose, which scrunches up cutely at the action. you can see toji try to chase your lips just the slightest when he sees your mouth fall away from his nose and wander so close to his mouth. you use the observation to tease him, making it look as if the next destination was his lips until you go further down and land a peck on his chin.
toji’s had enough of it, it seems, when he swoops a hand under your jaw and near your neck and guides you to his own mouth. he's soft about it, simply trying to taste your lips and memorize the feeling of your lips on his, until–you dont know who–one of you takes a sensual turn and makes it much more intense than need be. although unable to find the culprit of before, you can say that toji’s first in sliding his tongue into your mouth moments after. he does it slowly, flicking the muscle to tease at your own before retreating, as if waiting for yours to give the same response and you do, shyly dipping yours in to lick across his tongue. almost like he lured you in, he intertwines his muscle with yours upon the interaction and you can’t help the small high pitched moan that escapes you.
on some sort of instinct, toji uses the hand on your knee to hook it under his grasp and guide you to his lap, planting you thigh to thigh on top of him. your hands, having forgotten what to do in these situations, awkwardly place themselves on his chest, shakily feeling the hardness of his chest underneath them. he grabs onto one of them, caressing the skin of it, while his other hand finds comfort in your waist.
a second moan makes it way out of your throat and toji’s hips buckle up subconsciously, which makes you gasp into his searing kisses. the action has you noting that he’s hard underneath you and the exact size of him is a curiosity to you, the thought making you reach a hand down to hold him.
he’s big, an ‘it’s going to hurt’ kind of big.
“don’t…” he grunts out, letting go of the hand holding onto his chest and reaching down to take off the one holding his length, “touch unless you’re ready.”
“i’m ready,” you shift your hips atop of him and being forced to look at him when he pulls away from the kiss, lips pink and splotched and his pupils blown out.
“I can wait,” he says, trying to control his breathing, the expanse of his chest rising and falling so controlled even though the look in his eyes says otherwise, “don’t worry about me, if that’s it.”
“well I can’t,” you tug at one of the buttons of his shirt for emphasis, then guide one of his hands underneath your skin and near your inner thighs, “feel me.”
slowly and hesitantly, toji moves his hand onto your panties and runs a finger across the excessively damp wet spot of them.
“fuckin tease,” he groans at the touch, sliding his finger across again and again, earning mewl after mewl from you
“do you want me?” you shyly pant as you hold onto his free arm, fighting the need to put your head in his shoulders
“yeah, i fucking want you,” toji growls as he pushes you onto his chest by a hand on your back
he maintains eye contact with you when his hand pushes your panties out of the way and immediately slips a finger into your heat. the pressure of his gaze turns feral when your eyebrows knit and a loud moan leaves your lips.
for some reason, trying to excuse the loud reactions he’s about to get from you, you heave, worried, “i—i haven’t done this in a long time and–oh mmmm–i won’t be able to help myself.”
“think i care?” he huffs, concentrating on you when he slips a second finger inside and curls them both curiously to find your spot, which he does, smirking a little when your hold on him grows tighter and your hips wiggle at the pleasure, “scream all you want princess.”
he starts jutting in his fingers quickly in and out of you after the words leave his mouth, and the stretch is so good, so unlike your small hands that haven’t been able to do crap for years, that you start squealing and hug toji in by the back of his neck and shoulders.
“there you go, there you go baby,” he coos, smiling a little at the cute sounds you’re making and relishing in the squelch of your pussy while his fingers abuse it.
“wait–wait–” you heave, beginning to push him away, even though the advance is useless due to his iron grip and try to explain an embarrassing admission so as to warn him, “i feel like im gonna–”
he gives you no chance to finish your sentence when he punches in a third finger and makes you nearly scream.
“what?” he breathes, lusty eyes boring into your own, “you gonna cum?”
“no–”you shake your head, trying your best to still relay your message even though you can feel your orgasm taking its final steps near, “well yeah–but–but–”
your stomach starts dropping and toji picks up his pace so brashly that you release almost instantaneously all over him. your legs twitch uncontrollably and you bury your face into his neck while squealing through the feeling.
“shit.” he utters, still fingering you through it, “fuck, fuck.”
“i squirt,” you almost cry, embarrassed and shaken up by your orgasm, unable to look at him, “i’m sorry, i tried to tell–”
“shut up,” toji spanks your pussy and doesn’t care when you yelp as he throws you with your back on the couch and starts to tug your panties off, “you’re gonna do it again.”
submitting to him, you shimmy out of your dress nervously while he hastily undoes the buttons of his dress shirt. the burly fighter drags you, so your legs dangle off the couch before he kneels down and places his hands underneath your thighs to spread you out for him
“look at me when i eat you,” toji pinches your clit to get your full attention on his face, “don’t close your eyes or look at the ceiling, none of that shit. got that?”
you nod your head impishly, hesitantly putting a hand on your stomach, itching to hold onto his face or his hair.
his eyes drift to your sex and you can see a hint of irritation paint itself across his features when he mutters under his breath, “didn’t like the taste my ass.”
within milliseconds, toji saves no mercy and starts to eat you out like a man starved. his mouth is hot and wet, and you don’t know where the mess is coming from, his lips or yours. the man spits onto your pussy and so sloppily makes out with your sticky heat, interchanging between that and sucking so harsly against your clit.
your legs are twitching so wildly and the only thing keeping you from scrambling away is toji’s hands that are now wrapped around your thighs to keep you pressed against him.
you’re basically screaming now, in utter bliss from the heavenly feeling, unable to speak.
his eyes keep looking up to bore into yours all while he aggressively kisses your pussy. it has your breath picking up rapidly and goosebumps rising all across your skin. his tongue laps across your lips so foreign yet so deliciously that you can’t help the increasing reach of your orgasm.
“I'm close!” you squeal after a particular suck of your clit, thinking that he needs to heed to the warning because you’re so sure you’re about to squirt on his face
all toji does in response is growl and let go of one of your thighs to start fingering you with two digits rapidly.
he stares you down while you struggle to keep the eye contact, your whole body beginning to twitch uncontrollably and your vision starting to see white until the invisible cord snaps and you feel an immense relief wash over you–and him.
the juices seeping from you seem to spur him on and he doesn’t move in any sort of way to avoid them, instead choosing to lap at them and drink it in all while making growls and groans of satisfaction.
he’s still going at it when you come to, and you start shuffling away–well try to–from him, yelping, “it’s sensitive toji!”
he seemingly listens to you after a few seconds, running his tongue flat against your folds before he lifts his face from you. the entire lower half of his face is covered in your juices and his spit and he looks outright animalistic as he looks back at you.
he gets up and stalks towards you until he’s on top of your body and dives down to kiss you aggressively, making you taste yourself in the process. it’s so erotic, it has your pussy fluttering all over again.
“fuck,” he groans deeply into your mouth, “you don’t have any condoms right doll?”
you shake your head a little, but you wrap your arms around his shoulders and offer something else, “i’m on the pill…so i don’t really mind…”
you can feel his breath hitch and you’re quick to add, “but! if you’re not comfortable without one–”
“you fine with me blowing a load in you?” he mutters and seizes the chance to nip at your bottom lip
“i wanna feel it,” you admit, glad he’s still kissing you so he doesn’t see the flustered look on your face.
“dirty fucking angel,” he says heavily against your mouth before he gets up to undo his belt buckle and push both his pants and briefs in one motion.
he doesn’t even really spring up free like you expected him to. his dick is so hung that well, it hangs. the size looks bigger than what you predicted already when you touched it earlier. your ex, the only person you’ve had sex with, was the stark opposite of this, easy to fiddle with and well below average. the difference of having toji’s thick length right in front of you now had you clenching around nothing.
“you like it?” toji smirks at you while he goes up to you again and moves you so that you’re completely laying across the couch before he climbs up on top of you between your legs.
“mhm,” you nod, looking down and hoping his tip can at least graze your folds while it bobs down near your inner thigh and that’s when you get an idea.
“can we–” you almost hesitate, “can we do a mating press?”
“was planning on it,” he says gruffly when he leans forward and pins your legs next to your head.
you giggle at the words and he smiles down at you, a moment of innocence before the both of you look down and he’s using one hand to guide his tip into you.
the pop of his tip inside of you is overwhelming. you feel like you’re going to push him out in a single clench with how girthy he is. and you think the previous two, very wet, orgasms are what lets him slide into you, even though it stings.
“shit’s fucking tight,” toji groans, both hands back to your legs while he and you watch him pull out nearly all the way and sink back in.
“ ‘s so big,” you huff, feeling like he’s outright in your stomach, “feel so full.”
“bet you do,” he sounds so serious when he says it, still entranced when he starts to pound in and out of you at an average pace that, although it’s not fast, still has you starting to feel tears brim near your waterline
the man above you starts groaning in sync with your moans and whines, shuddering a little everytime you clench and suck him in
“beautiful,” toji groans under his breath and you can feel his pace start to pick up a bit, “getting fucked on a huge cock, little princess slut. tiny fucking hole’s begging for help.”
the mean words mixed with his praise has you feeling epically embarrassed yet turned on all at the same time and all you can do is moan in response
“you like getting called a slut?” he presses himself against you, almost chest to chest, smirking evilly while he raggedly breathes, “or princess? or you like me talking about splitting your pussy open?”
“all…of it,” you gasp through two punctual thrusts of his, he’s hit your cervix multiple times but the pleasure is so overwhelming, you’re starting to enjoy it
toji snickers a little, opening your legs a bit further to expose more of your torso, your tits being part of it and his intention, you realize when he goes down to pop one of your nipples into his mouth. he swirls the bud around his mouth and bites at it with his teeth while he starts to jackhammer into you, making sure each thrust is deep.
his balls start making a pap–pap sound everytime he thrusts back in, accompanying the wet squelch of toji dragging himself inside of you repeatedly.
it’s rough and hard, but more intimate than anything considering the few words being exchanged. the both of you are more concentrated on each other’s presence and reactions because after toji comes back up from your tits, he finds your lips and starts to makeout with you languidly.
the grip on your thighs grows bruising when you mix tongue into the kissing, coaxing him to do the same too.
“feel so fucking good,” he hisses when you clench around him uncontrollably, a sign of your incoming orgasm, “pussy’s close isn’t it”
you nod instead of speaking, concentrating on the delicious drag of his veins against your walls and the prodding of his tip at your g-spot
toji leans close to your ear, voice hard and lusty as he starts to mutter sweet and dirty nothings, “such a pretty girl, taking this cock so good.”
he then bites your ear softly, “you gonna milk my cock like a good girl? squeeze my load all out?”
shivering, you nod again and make a whimper in response
“squirt all over me angel, i know you want to,” toji starts plummeting a bit harder into your sweet spot, finding it again, the action has you looking down at where you’re both connected unable to fathom how large he is and just how he’s making it all fit inside, “look at me.”
one of his hands is gently under your chin now, guiding you to look at him since your eyes had strayed from his own. he’s breathing heavy now and his irises are almost completely gone considering the blown out size of his pupils.
“cum with me sweetheart,” the hand from your chin snakes its way down to your clit so as to start rubbing harsh circles for you, and you just know you’re about to make a bigger mess than before, “wrap that pretty pussy around me. milk the shit out of this dick. cum’s all yours baby.”
“ ‘s too much,” you whine, breathing ragged, “i don’t think–oh my god!”
you feel the pleasure wash over your entire body and come out all over toji’s lower abdomen accompannied by the profuse hard flutters of your pussy on his cock. you release a combination between a whine and a cry, feeling completely wrecked by the sensation.
toji follows you the moment your release gets all over him, his hips stiling and jerking into you roughly, this time giving hard kisses to your cervix instead of the fleeting small pecks from earlier. his cum feels immense, its warmth you can feel pooling inside you as toji sputters it into you.
“shit! fuck!” he groans, watching himself push it all into you before looking back up and taking you into a passionate kiss
“atta girl,” he utters after swiping his tongue across your teeth, one of his hands coming up to tentatively hold one of your breasts, “that feel good?”
tired, you weakly nod and sigh a weak, “mhm”
he lets go of the one hand holding your thigh up and moves both of your legs so that they wrap around his waist. he hasn’t pulled out yet.
“gonna buy you a new couch,” his lips twitch a little as he looks at the surrounding area near the both of you, “shit’s soaked.”
“toji!” you whine, embarrased, and pull him into you so you can hide your face.
toji doesn’t let you, instead pulling away so he can get a good look at you and grin, “you got spare sheets?”
“yeah?” you furrow your eyebrows, “but what does that have to do with the couch?”
“it doesnt. I’m fucking you on your bed later,” he shifts both of your bodies so that you can sit on top of him now just as he shifts the conversation back to what it was, “we’ll go shopping for the couch tomorrow. make it celebratory gift.”
“for the first time we fucked?”
“nah,” he lands a teasing kiss on your nose, “for your first time.”
you roll your eyes at him, “just because its been three years–”
“don’t care, doesn’t count if you never came with shrimp dick.”
a fit of giggles escapes you as you press yourself up against him for physical support, “yeah okay, it’s my first time gift.”
then your eyes stray to his very wet clothes on the floor next to yours, “sorry i got your clothes dirty though. I don’t think i have anything for you to wear either.”
toji puts both of his thumbs at the corner of your mouth to make your pout disappear, he snickers at himself for it, “i’ll call my assistant to drop off some clothes here.”
“how long will that take?”
“long as our shower,” toji huffs as he lifts the both of you up and starts walking to your restroom.
“and how long will that take?” you laugh, wiggling your eyebrows at him and clinging onto his shoulders.
“three more orgasms,” he comments, opening the door and leading the both of you to a very steamy shower.
“you haven’t even made the call yet!”
“shut up.”
#toji x reader#toji smut#jjk smut#toji fushiguro#toji zenin#jjk x you#toji zenin x reader#jjk x reader#toji zenin x you#toji fushigro x reader
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✧ i'll show you (if you'll let me).
⎯ there is a certain touch of beauty to witnessing a side of theirs revealed to you so naturally. it becomes as easy as breathing if you just let it happen... so, will you? ( or in other words, a way you enable them to be themselves. )
#STARRING. aventurine, dr. ratio, sunday, dan heng ft. gn!reader. { 4.2k words }
#TAGS. fluff, established relationship. more: minor spoilers for aven's backstory (described mostly abstractly), ratio is referred to by his first name, i called sunday a nerd (sorry), dr. ratio & dan heng are certified workaholics.
#P/S. i think i may have yapped a little considering the word count but i hope it ends up being a good kind of yapping. tysm for reading! ♡
© seelestia on tumblr, may 2024. please do not repost, plagiarize, translate, use for AI-related purposes or claim as your own.
will you let aventurine hold you close when he sleeps? . . . whether it's an arm slung over your hips or his nose buried in your shoulder or fingers tracing shapes onto your skin. he doesn't ask for too much; only that you grant him the permission to cradle you in his arms, somewhere within his reach. it's a habit, he hopes you don't mind.
you have to wonder, though. considering the plenitude of pillows on the bed, why do his hands still seek you out? with all the credits he spent on those cotton-stuffed angels, you thought aventurine would relish them a bit more. but ah-ah, see? that is where you're wrong. sure, the pillows are extremely comfy but he always has a preference for things with much, much more value.
and the truth — well, his truth — is that even the softest cushions from oti mall couldn't compare to the privilege of laying his head on your chest, he'd say. especially when you brush his hair with your fingers - oh, one of the easiest ways to paradise. truly, the best value there is! can you blame a man for being honest and a little lovesick?
(“sappy,” you accuse. he pouts, offended.)
but aventurine has a flair for theatrics, you know that. his witty quips are as feather-light in weight as light-hearted they are in intent. but his touch - in the forms of kind caresses or rhythmic taps to a tune from his forgotten culture - lingers on your skin, with a yearning so heavy. you question whether it could be nostalgia or instead, silent awe at a reality he never imagined could ever be his.
(kakavasha remembers. clinging onto you for warmth like he once did to his sister, falling asleep with her prayers to mama fenge in his ears. the avgins believed gaiathra triclops to be the symbol of humility; so naturally, their prayers to her should also be humble, not too quiet but not too loud. all in moderation. for a frail child like him, those gentle prayers alone were enough to let him drift into a dreamless slumber and to ignore the shackles of reality if not for the briefest moments.
time passed. came a time where the melody he associated with slumber was no longer a soft voice lulling him but pure static, a noise to distract his mind from the chains around his wrists. they burned themselves onto his skin, searing, but he was already too familiar with the sensation to care. the mark on his neck was unwelcome, laughing at him, but he too laughed at his own pitiful reflection so what's the difference, anyway?
time passed again, the call of slumber then turned into clattering noises of chips doused in gold and dice thrown onto a surface. he thought it'd stay that way forever but before long, it morphed into up-and-down waves he couldn't decipher initially. they're gentle, faint like a human's breathing: your breathing as you allowed him to lie beside you for the first time, he realized back then. although he deems himself unworthy, an ugly grime on your pristine existence that still insists on cradling him — but despite it all, he finds this last melody to be his favorite so far.)
✧ a moment among the stars:
ticklish.
the sensation, minor yet still impactful enough, causes you to stir out of sleep. the light of noon greets your eyes and you become vaguely cognizant that the root of it all is the tufts of blond hair brushing against your neck.
there is a solid weight on your torso and a pair of slender arms loosely wrapped around your waist - but they're nothing you haven't grown used to. you comb your fingers through the messy locks licking at your skin, instinctively, and the fragrant scent of what you register as penacony's limited edition perfume kisses your nose.
“...ugh, what system time is it?” you let out a grunt, shifting around slightly to let your limbs breathe. you don't get an answer to your question, instead, aventurine's arms reestablish their hold on you. hooking you closer to him as if to wring out whatever proximity is left, if there is even any. his simple proclamation of “who cares?”, in a sense.
there it is again, that ticklish feeling. you feel soft lips grazing feather-like kisses against your collarbone. oh, he definitely isn't letting go just yet. truly merciless, a dozy morning thought accompanied by your tired sigh. the noise still comes out fond, however, so your feigned act of annoyance is fooling no one.
“it's warm, you know,” you grumble. but the yawn escaping your mouth right after betrays whatever stern image you're trying to adopt. not like you can ever be too stern with him. aventurine knows this, yes, and he gives you an A+ for effort each time.
“mhm,” he finally speaks, snuggling into your chest with no care about anything in the world, “g'morning to you too, lovely.”
his favorite mornings aren't his favorite if not thanks to your innocuous complaints and delightful attempts at pushing his pretty face away, no? a lazy grin graces the stoneheart's lips and eyes like exquisite gems, although sleepy, flutter open to gaze at you languidly. he takes the sight of you in then lets out a sigh - a fond noise just like yours earlier; the both of you really are two peas of a pod.
you must look a terrible mess right now and yet, the sight of you has aventurine smiling dazedly. “ah, what a spectacular sight. i really am the luckiest man in the galaxy,” he hums in approval. you want to roll your eyes but stops as he leans up to pepper (ah, one necessary correction: smother) kisses all over your face, arms dragging you closer to his chest like a cage. your eyes widen comically. what a nefarious trap, he has the advantage!
every remnant of sleepiness clinging to your mind evaporates. you squeal with laughter, shoving at his shoulder using the strength of a baby deer because no, you don't really want him to stop. he knows that too, of course.
“mwah, mwah, mwah—”
“pfft...! kakavasha, i can't breathe!”
(he has half a mind to pinch his skin, as if to remind himself that this is real. he can feel your giggles tickling his skin as if to tell him in return: yes, you are.)
will you let veritas pour his heart out after a long day? . . . well, that could count as too much of an overstatement. others say, “that man is like a brick wall!” some more dare to whisper, “doesn't his temper already exhaust whatever emotional quota he has?!” needless to say, everyone knows that dr. ratio is a man ruled by the mind, not by the heart. alright, that's quite true - but does that imply he has discarded the latter altogether? if so, then you beg to differ.
(not in the literal sense, of course! the heart is a vital organ of the body. saying otherwise would be akin to spitting on his shiny phd in biology... or his seven other phd's at that.)
the pedestal which the public places veritas ratio on reaches still great heights, even if it may not rival an ivory tower a member of the genius society resides in. it is so high up that mundane troubles of those below can't reach a genius like him, surely? well, as tall as he stands - somehow, the universe grants you a front row seat for a particular sight that proves otherwise.
if only they knew the doctor has a habit of mumbling these incomprehensible (more like barely intelligible) grumbles under his breath, striking a resemblance similar to a grumpy old cat. if you strain your ears hard enough, you might catch a “...this has to be it...” or “...i dare not think so...” from time to time as he roams around the room with materials in his hands.
(absurd, people would say. but you think it's extremely cute.)
veritas doesn't say it out loud - but you can tell by the hunch in his stiff shoulders, by the one or two sighs he huffs every six minutes - that he is itching to tell somebody of all the tomfooleries he has encountered today. of course, the topics he laments about vary; it's only when you hear him exhaling the loudest sigh that you get to find out.
mostly though, it's about his students and remarks on how they can further improve their performance — sure, he could phrase it a little gentler — but you still find it sweet that he cares. if not that, then it'd be about indolent colleagues, complicated formulae and more. on some days, he'll even let out an exasperated “truly mind-boggling! could you believe that?” to which you'd reply with an “uh-huh, go on.”
at the end of a ranting session, veritas takes careful note to leave a kiss on your person afterward. no matter where it is - on the lips, the cheek or your hand. no matter where you are - sitting on the couch beside him, behind the kitchen counter or across the room. the warmth that stays on your skin when he pulls away is somewhat tingly. appreciative, you think, especially when he looks at you with such loving eyes that his colleagues would be sure to retch in shock if they were a witness.
looks like you are right on the money; he has never discarded his heart, after all. so yes, to rephrase - will you lend veritas a listening ear when he needs it?
✧ a moment among the stars:
“...yet another headache.”
as unsubtle as ever, the doctor's complaint is barely hidden behind the guise of a mumble. those neatly styled violet bangs of his aren't doing an excellent job at concealing that frown strewn across his forehead either. veritas's posture is tense, a dead giveaway, as he goes over the piles of documents on his desk.
you cock an eyebrow upon seeing the stamp belonging to the intelligentsia guild on one of the papers. definitely work. it has been two system hours since he took a seat at the work desk, you concur, or lifted a finger to do something besides flipping through drafts. a mere glance at the stack of documents is enough to convince you that those researchers at the guild must really value veritas's input.
a perk of being a genius, maybe? the phantom of a weight lands alight on your shoulders. with a mug of black coffee in hand, you make your way to him. your footsteps are without a sound, only the noise of porcelain being placed down onto woodenware is enough to announce your arrival. “rough day at work?” you ask, peering down at his progress.
(a doctor's handwriting really is something. you resist the urge to squint.)
veritas doesn't seem to mind. if the way he smiles at the sight of you, albeit tiredly, is any indication. “hah,” he rests a hand on his temple and scoffs wryly, “so much grievances like you wouldn't believe.”
oh, he is teetering on the precipice of a tangent but stops himself. “...fret not, i'm fine. this is hardly something beyond my expertise,” he shakes his head, the motion causing his reading glasses to slide down a smidgen down the bridge of his nose.
you're too familiar with the self-assured bravado he puts on. you're quite endeared, actually. “okay, mr. i-require-no-rest,” you take the glasses off his face and he breaks into a frown. at the childish tone you're using or for having his reading glasses taken away, you don't know.
“why don't you take a little break?” you suggest. veritas sighs, “need i remind you that dilly-dallying is for fools who wish to waste their time?” and crosses his arms defiantly. he knows your strategy, he has come face-to-face with it several times.
“do you think a break with me is a waste of time?” you present him with a rhetorical question, quite the difficult adversary.
(and he keeps losing to it every single time.)
“well, that's—” the doctor nearly splutters, taken aback. “that's different if you insist on inserting yourself as a variable,” he infers, putting emphasis on the last part accompanied by an incredulous look.
“the answer is up for debate then,” you shrug with a cheeky smile. your hand then deftly lifts the mug you previously set down to your lips, veritas's eyes dilate in bewilderment. “so,” you hum at the rich taste of your handiwork, “wanna tell me about your day? haven't heard about the council in a while.”
“you—” he gasps in defeat, “i thought that was supposed to be my mug of coffee.”
(he has a slight pout on his face, but you dare not point it out lest it disappears in the blink of an eye.)
“our mug of coffee,” you take a few more sips with an innocent decadence. “all is fair in love and war, doctor.”
“i can never win with you,” he buries his face in his palm with a groan. you laugh heartily, a sound that chimes like quaint little bells in his ears - it elicits a reaction from his lips, for them to quirk up at the corners in the smallest of ways.
“regardless. . .” veritas relents and reaches for your free hand. you let him. “it seems a break wouldn't be so amiss, after all,” he then presses a kiss on the side of your wrist, affectionate.
(your heart skips a beat.)
will you let sunday regale you with facts you've never heard of before? . . . a man of eloquent words, no less a man of educated mind. you have no doubt that the books in the dewlight pavilion really aren't just there for show - not that you're allowed to browse through them at your own desire. a servant's voice would stop you in your tracks should your fingers ever brush against something in the family's secret bookshelf.
how mysterious.
but sunday makes it known to the staff that you, in particular, are allowed more access to the shelves - perhaps, not too much - but more than even mr. mccoy, at least. with the way you have to crane your neck far up to pinpoint the tallest height that the shelves reach, you wonder: has sunday gone through everything here personally?
your immediate answer is most likely. you know sunday fairly well; to have something that he hasn't scrutinized from the inside out in his possession will surely gnaw away at his psyche incessantly. not being in the know at all times is a looming fear for him. but of course, you have other ways to confirm the answer for yourself.
pick out a book from a shelf there, either intentional or purely arbitrary, and watch as sunday carefully traces his steps towards you. his curiosity is piqued, which topic has caught your interest this time? but he tucks it under proper cordiality. with a hand behind his back, he'd utter your name in the softest tone and ask the familiar question of “would you like to know more?” — asking for your permission to ramble, essentially — you find this tendency of his to be charming, so you nod each time.
(and he smiles when you do. a smile less refined at the edges, kinder and relaxed.)
the best place to start from is always the beginning. you think sunday agrees because he often starts by telling you the history and its origins before moving on to its impact on the galaxy, then his personal stance on the topic. it's a pattern, you notice, his ramblings have a pattern. and it's consistent every time, you might've believed he was reading off a script. and what's more? sunday is blissfully oblivious of it.
fascinating. you ponder: what kind of things you can do with this information? decisions, decisions, decisions. . . but ultimately, you opt for keeping it a secret like a treasure only you're allowed to see.
(that might be true in a way. you don't doubt that robin, his dear sister, is familiar with this side of him. does that mean he treasures you like he does her? your chest starts to feel a bit lighter.)
if you were to point it out, you fear you might never witness it again - goodness, to know that he has been displaying such foolishness or rather, what he viewed as an embarrassing freudian slip in front of you? his wings might as well resort to covering his face for good until the end of time.
as you listen to him talk (with such elegance at that), you can't help whatever tender look you have on your face. really, who would've thought the head of the oak family could be such. . . a nerd?
(you hope in secret that sunday will be more willing to show sides like these to you in the future. and that they're not a weakness at all, not when they're shared with you.)
✧ a moment among the stars:
“it looks like you're fascinated by the dreamscape nursery rhyme this time.”
sunday spares the article in your hold no further inspection. one glance at the cover and walls of memorized information rush to the front of his mind. he looks familiar with it; could it be a part of his childhood too? but then again, everything found here is within his knowledge.
“i am,” you say with intrigue, “it got me ruminating for a while.”
you meet his gaze, stumbling upon yellow irises that glimmer akin to gold under penaconian chandeliers. you think you see a hint of affection in them, swimming around your reflection like a school of fish in a pond. it makes you smile.
he smiles back, oblivious to your thoughts but returns your gesture. he asks, “how so?” and you reply without delay, “i read through it and the morbid undertone took me by surpri—”
or at least, it's supposed to be without delay until you realize sunday has stepped closer in order to peer down at the page you're holding open. and suddenly, you're extremely aware of every minute detail like how his breath brushes against the side of your cheek and how his chest rumbles as he hums in acknowledgement.
(you flush in the neck and he perceives this reaction of yours with mirth.)
“my apologies,” sunday chuckles and pulls away, “i've simply forgotten the rhyme and wished to refresh my memory.”
“somehow, i feel that isn't the case...” you mumble accusingly. that seems to amplify whatever little amusement he gets from flustering you. “oh, my dove. i can assure you that it is,” he caresses your head, a little placatingly.
most times, sunday isn't so laidback about giving affection in public — since he has an image to maintain — so you assume the fact that the servants are out and about, leaving only you and him here, plays a role in his unusual boldness. you accept the gesture with a bashful pout.
“now, where were we?” sunday clears his throat, “ah, yes. some people have noted on the nursery rhyme's strange quality but still, it retains its popularity in penacony. it is also widely assumed that the hound resembles the bloodhound family while—”
you hold back an amused sigh, but it's more out of fondness than anything. he'll start from the history then the effect on the general public, as per usual, but you're not the only predictable one here. you'd listen to him anytime too, won't you?
(you do adore when the head of the oak family would put off his public figure mask around you. if only for just a while.)
will you let dan heng rest his head on your lap when it's just you two? . . . the sense of comfort it provides isn't something he can explain with words. as if he has ever been good with words in the first place. saying a sentence bereft of logical reasoning or witty remarks doesn't come easily to the express’ guard. neither does intimacy. . . but you know that already, don't you?
after all, it isn't a secret that dan heng prefers speaking with his actions. if to show one's intentions is the end goal, then actions are the fastest route to choose. words, although able to sweeten the trip like how a beautiful scenery can, will eventually lead to actions regardless so why take the extra step?
but you're different from him; you articulate what you think and what you mean. you're honest in ways that keep catching dan heng off guard without fail — just like the first time you offered your empty lap to him when his head was swirling in pain — but he supposes that is one of your charms. “words can be useful. we're not all born mind readers,” you told him once and he hummed, accepting of your perspective.
(“look at you two! opposites attract!” march chirped. he recalled shooting her a look of indignation and she rubbed the back of her head sheepishly in response.)
dan heng has learnt to grow used to your propensities - but by far, your shameless invitations are still one matter that can't be comprehended even with time. he cannot understand; how you smile as you sit on his futon in the archives (he doesn't mind), how you link gazes with him so effortlessly, how you pat your lap knowingly and say, “why don't you rest your head here?”
(he has to restrain himself from bursting into flames like a heliobus.)
sometimes, he'll accept reluctantly or he'll decline with an underlying tone of longing he doesn't want you to notice. because as much of a good hold dan heng has on nonchalance, he cannot deny that this particular gesture of yours has left a mark on him.
(it remains persistently.)
when he rests his head on your lap, he can't help but take a deep inhale - your fragrance fills his senses and he discards the selfish desire to keep it all to himself. your fingers are soothing as they thread through his hair gently. the feeling that washes over him is serene, almost comparable to submerging himself in the pure waters of scalegorge waterscape.
when overcome by such a tranquil state of mind, dan heng wonders what expression he might be making at that moment? he always keeps his eyes closed, so it's a shame he may never know. but you do, and you don't think you've ever seen him look so at peace before like he does now.
(perhaps, that's why you keep offering him this in the first place.)
✧ a moment among the stars:
“someone looks tired,” you state with a pointed stare. the archives isn't a room too spacious and the only ones here are you and him. the target of your sentence is obvious.
but dan heng doesn't take the bait, barely looks away from the entry he is currently authoring. still, he spares you a glance and hums glibly, “are you projecting? if so, feel free to use my bed in the meantime.”
you let out a noise, something gibberish that conveys disappointment but it is effectively drowned out by the typing noises. “you haven't even touched the food i bought you,” your voice becomes mellow, “why don't you rest for a while?”
he isn't convinced, you think, since his fingers are still hard at work. the new info the team brought back must've been a lot if he's that focused.
“dan heng?” you try again, hopeful for the last time. you don't take him for a fool, of course, he'll know when he reaches his limit and have proper rest then. but would that really be ideal? a second passes and that hope flickers like a dimming light. but just an inch before the edge of giving up, the typing slows to a stop.
“. . .alright,” he murmurs. finally, after a good hour spent drawing patterns on his backside with your eyes, dan heng turns around to face you. he look tense, you note with abject concern.
“here,” you usher him to your lap, empty and conveniently so. dan heng shoots you a blank look - this isn't the first time you offered and this isn't the first time he reacted like that. you try to suppress a laugh, failing gloriously at it. “just for a little bit,” you utter through a stifled fit of chuckles.
dan heng shakes his head, not in rejection but in defeat. his eyes slip close, second nature, as he leans to situate his head on your lap. you welcome him with a hum and let your fingers card through his hair. a calm sigh falls from his lips like a water droplet in springtime.
“this. . . is nice,” he admits, sudden and unprompted. you nearly doubt your ears for a moment there. did he— “i don't hate it is, uhm, what i mean to say,” dan heng adds and it dawns on you that your ears are still working. his eyes are still closed, not that you'd expect anything else, he prefers to treat it as a shield from being face-to-face with embarrassment.
(or to avoid your ecstatic gaze. he can feel warmth rushing to his cheeks already.)
“i know,” you smile, brushing away a few messy strands from his forehead. he isn't an open book but you think you've read the pages enough to remember all the little details. “but thanks for telling me. i'm no mind reader but i think i can read yours pretty well.”
“i shall provide no further comment,” he holds back an incredulous exhale, yet his lips still curl slightly at the corner. you feel the teeniest desire to trace the curve of his lips with your fingertip but settle for silently admiring them instead.
“it's fine. i know the answer already,” you say, words dripping with affection. such a shame dan heng never looks up at you during a time like this. because if he did, he wouldn't have missed seeing the sheer fondness in your gaze that rains down on him in light showers. a true shame.
(one day, he'll gather the courage. maybe.)
— thank you for reading! reblogs with comments are most appreciated. ♡
#hsr x reader#honkai star rail x reader#aventurine x reader#aventurine x you#dr ratio x reader#dr ratio x you#sunday x reader#sunday x you#dan heng x reader#dan heng x you#hsr fluff#hsr headcanons#hsr imagines#seelestial.inks
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GOJO SATORU: ❛❛ IS IT OVER NOW? (IT ISN'T) ❜❜
.ೃ࿐ streamer!au: all good things come to an end, including your relationship—but don't worry, broken hearts can be mended, but only if you're both willing to try.
contents: fem!reader. you two break up and make up! you guys fight/break up over something that coulda been resolved with better communication. kinda suggestive ending, maybe i'll drop a part two if this does alright. satoru announces your break-up on his stream. longest fic i've posted so far, 4k words (kms).
author's note: the long awaited angst has finally arrived.. big thank you to @screampied for beta-reading!! tagging @yunymphs who read it early and @sutorus + @kentopedia who i both miss very much!!
ever since you first joined satoru on his stream, it’s gotten way more popular than either of you could’ve ever expected. before he brought you onto his live, he was averaging about eight thousand views per stream. now, his average was well over fifteen thousand—and that wasn't even including the publicity he got from other websites. when satoru accidentally left the camera on while you two made out, you two went viral on twitter. and when another user tried to swipe him away, the clip got over a hundred thousand views on youtube.
at first, satoru didn't mind the change his stream was going through—in fact, he welcomed it. but lately, things have been… different.
last week, while satoru was playing in some competition, he won first out of hundreds of equally proficient players. had it been anyone else, their comments would've been filled with congratulations and good job's, but in his case, all satoru got were messages asking where you were. that wasn’t the first time—ever since that very first day, when you showed up on his stream, satoru’s audience has entirely shifted. and honestly, if you were in his position, you'd be a bit annoyed. anyone would be.
but you had never expected that it would be so big of a deal that you and satoru—the "cutest couple on the internet"—would break up over it.
you walk along the chilly, suburban sidewalk up to your boyfriend’s house. satoru had just sent you a message asking if you could come over, and like always, you answered with an immediate yes. a flock of crows fly by, raven feathers providing a stark contrast between them and the pale gray sky around you. it’s gray and gloomy, but not unpleasant.
a sweet, romantic song plays in your ears as you knock three times on satoru’s front door. his familiar voice calls out “coming!”, and you can hear his footsteps grow louder and louder until he swings open the door. satoru smiles down at you, cheeks already rosy from the cold winter air. “hey.”
you tilt your head and smile back at him. “that’s all i get? hey?” you huff, walking into his living room behind him as the door closes behind you. “d’you have any hot chocolate? i’m freezing,” you say, licking your lips. satoru turns and pauses, an unreadable expression on his face. “satoru?”
after a moment, your boyfriend snaps out of it. “oh, yeah, sorry,” he says ruefully. satoru rubs his eyes with one hand and uses the other to open the door to his bedroom, and as you follow him in, you’re hit with a blast of warm air. “i’m just kinda tired, but yeah, i have some hot cocoa in here. c’mon.”
“anything i can do for you?” you offer, sitting down on the corner of his bed. you’ve been to his house so many times that it feels like home—maybe even more so than your own place. everything about satoru’s room is comfortable, from his plush chairs to the faux-fur blankets draped over every single piece of his furniture. you could probably fall over at any given point and it wouldn’t actually hurt—you’d just land on something soft and/or fluffy.
but that wasn’t all that made you so in love with his home. it was just the way it felt—words couldn’t describe the way everything was just so right and just so perfect, and you really did hope that you’d never have to see a time where you wouldn’t be able to spend time with your boyfriend here.
it really is a shame that all good things had to come to an end. at least, that’s what you kept telling yourself as satoru finally told you why he called you over. unlike nearly every other time, it wasn’t because he missed you or wanted to cuddle—it was quite the opposite, really.
“i don’t think this is working.”
six words that shattered the life you had come to know and love.
“is this a joke?” you try, an unnerved smile spreading across your lips against your will. he doesn’t reply instantly, which is so out-of-character for him that it makes you stiffen up. “satoru, this isn’t funny—”
“i’m not kidding,” satoru murmurs, looking away. he refuses to meet your eyes, and some part of you is still desperately trying to find reason in the chaos that’s slowly taking over your mind. how could it be that everything was just fine two minutes ago and now it’s anything but that? did something happen? did you say the wrong thing? did you—
“it’s not funny,” you insist, still somehow clinging onto your slowly-dwindling hope. maybe you’re in denial, but still, you were sure that everything was fine—no, that everything is fine. there was no past-tense, right? how could the glass home you’d built with your bare hands just crash down at the throw of a pebble?
satoru finally meets your eyes, and your breath catches in your throat. there’s no amused glimmer in his eyes, no “just kidding” in sight, and even worse, you can’t even see an ounce of the love or adoration you’d come to grow so attached to in just a couple months.
“what happened?” you whisper, miraculously managing to keep yourself together. you’d never forgive yourself if you just started crying over a breakup you weren’t even sure was happening—what little’s left of your pride is holding on. you allow yourself to wrap your arms around your chest, curling into your own embrace.
satoru doesn’t reply for a long second. right when you’re sure he just won’t reply, he does, and it all comes spilling out in a messy stream of words. “it’s just… i can’t do this anymore. i can’t keep going online and seeing everyone on my stream talking about you. i love you, i really do, but it’s just—” satoru shakes his head frustratedly. “i don’t know how to say it, but you know what i mean, right?”
your eyebrows furrow and you shake your head. “you’re breaking up with me because you’re tired of seeing me?”
“no, fuck,” satoru groans, running a hand through his hair. his previously cool and collected demeanor starts to fall apart as he takes a step back. “i don’t know how to explain it, but— shit, you wouldn’t understand.”
you swallow and start to stand up, still willing to try. “then help me understand, satoru, i—”
“you’ve seen the comments, and you’ve seen all the posts on twitter,” satoru says, tilting his head back and glaring at the ceiling. “it’s not your fault, but i really just can’t stand everyone disregarding me and turning my own stream into a youtube channel starring you.”
his words sting like alcohol in an open wound, and you fight the battle of your life to prevent the thousands of tears hiding behind your eyes from being visible. even so, your voice wobbles ever so slightly as you say “that’s a bullshit reason to break up, satoru—”
your boyfriend—is he even still your boyfriend?—scoffs and shakes his head, stumbling back and falling into his chair. "for you, it isn't. you wouldn’t understand. for me, it's like everyone's just... invalidating the three years i've spent on this shit. and i can't do it anymore, i just can't."
you blink slowly, backing away towards his bedroom door. "what does that mean?"
satoru exhales a bitter laugh and turns away, the back of his chair facing you. you think you can hear him take a soft, shaky breath as the room falls silent. neither of you make a sound before satoru turns back toward you, a blank look on his face.
he looks up at you, azure eyes devoid of the sparkle you've become so familiar with. satoru smiles sadly, but to your dismay, there's no real emotion behind it. it's almost like he's already accepted it when he says, "it means we—" he pauses and looks away. "this is over."
you reach out toward him, desperate to hold on to him—to the invisible string that ties you and satoru together, but he's just out of your grasp. "satoru, it isn't even that big of a deal, why are you—"
satoru turns and fixes you with a stern glare, and just like that, the string that kept you and satoru together for months, maybe years snaps, and you're left with a limp strand of what it once was. taking the hint, you walk out of his room in a daze, hardly noticing the way he says "i'm sorry".
and the worst part? he said he still loved you. but apparently that wasn’t enough.
satoru has every right to be annoyed that his stream is only growing because of you—his stream was the way he made money, and after all, it was never meant to be about you.
and maybe he was never meant to be for you either.
the walk home is cold and lonely. you slip a hand into your pocket—the pocket of satoru's hoodie, which you should probably return to him—and extract your earphones. it probably isn't a good idea to wear both outside as you walk home, but you do it anyway—this day can't possibly get any worse.
a soft voice murmurs words of sorrow and encouragement in your ear as the music takes you to another world. maybe this—the breakup—was meant to happen. maybe it was a mistake to date a boy with thousands of fans.
as soon as you get home, your phone dings softly. you pick it up and frown when you see it's from toru. you'd have to change that name later.
toru: idk if u blocked me already but i still have a lot of ur things, do u wanna come pick them up later?
toru: or i can drop them off tmrw ig
you miss the way he used to text you—with an obnoxious amount of exclamation points and an even worse amount of emojis. now, it's like all of the flavor's gone from his words, and it hurts. that's when it actually settles in, that this is really over. it hurts like an icicle being driven straight through your heart, and it stings like one, too.
satoru's texts are left on delivered for five whole minutes before you reply, and it's only with an "i'll come by tmrw". he likes the message less than a minute later, and you're left to wallow in your misery alone until you finally drift off to sleep.
the next morning, you open your phone to a notification alerting you that satoru’ll be live on stream in ten minutes. curiosity kills the cat, but in this case, maybe it’d be worth it to see what he tells his viewers about your breakup. after all, there’s no way he wouldn’t tell them—he always had something to say about you, and he’d probably rather tell them for sure rather than let them come up with ridiculous theories on their own.
so you hastily make a new account using some email account you haven’t touched since middle school, trying a couple different passwords until you remember the one that works. the website hits you with a hundred questions, asking you about your favorite games and who’d you like to subscribe to first. you choose satoru, albeit after a second of hesitation. two minutes later, sparklingzebra672 joins your ex-boyfriend’s stream. you wait a second, holding your breath as the live loads. a brief moment later, satoru’s painfully familiar face appears on your screen.
“hey guys,” satoru says, forcing a smile on his face. even from behind a screen, you swear you can feel his eyes on you. “how’s everyone today?”
the already unstable smile on satoru’s face falls when he opens the comments and gets greeted with a flurry of where’s your girlfriend’s. had you been anyone else, you probably wouldn’t have noticed the way satoru’s eyes dulled ever so slightly or the way he curled into himself, but being the girl who once knew him best, you could tell.
“oh, she won’t be back on here for… a while,” satoru starts, dancing around the topic. he leans back against his chair and tilts his chin up, azure eyes focused on the ceiling. “we broke up.”
nothing could’ve prepared you for the way satoru’s comments explode. it’s almost like you can hear the shocked gasps coming from all fourteen—no, twenty thousand viewers as the words nobody thought would ever they’d hear from satoru are spoken.
suguru-geto: holy shit im so sorry
toji-fushiguro: wait wtf r u kidding?? that's fuckin crazy
yuuji-itadori: omg i thought u guys were together forever :(
inumaki: chat is this real??
satoru shrugs, averting his eyes from the hundreds of comments pouring in, but you scroll through and read them all. everyone, even satoru’s haters, seems genuinely shocked. in fact, had this not been your own breakup, you would’ve been one of them, begging and pleading satoru for more details.
“yeah, we did,” satoru murmurs, eyebrows furrowing just enough for you to read his expression. now that you’re looking closer, you can see the subtle redness underneath his eyes—had he been crying too? and maybe you’re imagining it, but his hair seems a bit dishelved too. your ex-boyfriend shrugs, forcing his face back into his usual lighthearted expression, but it’s not fooling anyone.
satoru scowls at the new flood of comments asking him why you two broke up. some people are already hypothesizing—maybe it’s because you got jealous of his fame, or maybe he got sick of you. maybe you left him to go date some other streamer, or maybe—
“i’m actually gonna end the stream here, ‘cause i don’t really want to deal with all of this right now,” satoru says with a frown. his eyes are narrowed irritably as a couple users protest, still begging for more details. “you guys know that i’m a real person with my own life, right? fuck off.”
and just like that, the stream ends. you’re left with a blank screen and a message saying that satoru’s ended the live, so you shut your laptop. your stomach turns as you groan, just remembering that you have to go over to his place later to retrieve your things, and somehow, you’d have to pretend that you didn’t just stalk his stream to see if he’d say anything substantial about the breakup.
a couple minutes after the stream ends, your phone blows up—every mutual friend you and satoru have is messaging you about what he said, but you can’t bring yourself to open any of them. except for one.
suguru: r u ok?
you: yeah ig
suguru: do u want anything?
satoru’s best friend’s question catches you off-guard—there are a lot of things you want. you want this whole situation to go away. you want the world to disappear. and most of all, you want satoru back, without the online world attached.
but suguru can’t do any of those things, can he? so you leave him on read.
somehow, you fall back asleep, tossing and turning in your bed without satoru’s steady arms to accompany you. a couple hours later, you wake up again, wincing from the dim sunlight that pours through your windows and directly into your eyes. it’s just past five, so you figure that you might as well go down to satoru’s house and get your things. better to do it now than drag it out for an uncertain amount of time.
the walk is shorter than you remember, but maybe it’s just the absence of music pouring into your ears that makes it seem that way. you watch the wilted autumn leaves flutter in the wind, falling down onto the sidewalk like pieces into place. once upon a time, you had walked these very streets with satoru—it’s a fond memory you remember only all too well.
when you finally step onto your ex’s doorstep, the door opens before you even have a chance to knock. and there he is—the boy who’d once been the love of your life. satoru looks down at you with an unreadable expression. “hey.”
you think you’ve seem this film before, and you didn’t like the ending.
satoru spares you from having to reply by opening the door wider and beckoning you inside. “i already put most of your stuff into a couple boxes, but i thought you’d wanna check on your own. just in case i forgot something.”
you nod and walk past him, not trusting your voice to be steady. this was harder than you expected—much harder. in fact, you’re practically on the verge of breaking down when you step into satoru’s room and look around and see just how different it looks without the touches of you everywhere.
the fortnite poster you’d given him as a joke for the second anniversary of his stream was gone from his wall, and so were the two mini succulents that used to sit on the corner of his desk. the white cat plushie that used to rest on his pillow was gone, too—probably stuffed somewhere in one of the boxes outside his bedroom door.
after nearly a minute of looking around, you decide that whatever satoru possibly could’ve missed wasn’t important enough for you to have to stick around any longer.
you turn and start to exit satoru’s room so fast that you nearly crash into him when he suddenly appears in the doorway. “shit, sorry about that,” you mumble, trying to walk around him. but of course, because the universe is actually praying on your downfall, you and satoru both walk the same way at the same time. you awkwardly try to go around each other, and eventually, the humiliation is over.
“so, you got everything?” satoru asks, walking beside you with his hands in his pockets. you nod, bending over to pick up one of the two boxes. it’s pretty heavy, but not unmanangable. you just don’t really seem to know if you’ll be able to carry both back home at once.
“oh, uh, i’ll be right back,” you say tentatively. a flash of confusion appears in satoru’s eyes, so you clarify, “i’m gonna go grab my car. that’ll make it easier.”
satoru’s eyebrows furrow and he shakes his head. “no, it’s alright. your place isn’t far from here at all, i’ll just take the other and walk back with you.”
“no, really, it’s alright.”
“it’s the easiest option, ba—” satoru cuts himself off, stopping himself from calling you baby for the first time since you two had started dating. “sorry.”
“let’s just go.”
the walk back to your house is brutal. you walk side by side with satoru since the path is wide enough for you to do so, and you two just keep bumping into each other. had you still been dating, satoru probably would’ve dropped the box and scooped you up instead, kissing your cold face to warm it up. of course, that would’ve added five minutes to your walk, but it would’ve been better than the tense silence dividing you and satoru right now.
the wind whistles around you, brushing at your skin and making you shiver with every gust—there’s nothing more you’d like than to go home, plop on your couch and cry while watching the titanic for the hundredth time.
after what seems like three hundred awkward hours later, you and satoru finally make it to your house. “thanks,” you say quietly, setting down your box in front of the door.
satoru places his next to yours and slips his hands back into his pockets. he nods and replies, “no problem,” but still doesn’t leave.
you cross your arms, and tilt your head, meeting his eyes hesitantly. “umm, do you need anything else?”
satoru coughs tensely and shrugs. “oh, uh, not really, just—” his eyes drift down to your top, and your face grows warm when you realize you’re still wearing his hoodie.
“shit, my bad,” you mumble, internally cringing and resisting the urge to say every curse word you know. could this day really get any worse?
well, at least satoru looks equally as embarrassed. he shakes his head and gestures for you to keep it on. “it’s fine, it’s kinda cold anyways. keep it.” satoru hesitates, shuffling his feet before continuing, “if you want something… to remember me by.”
what you say next was done entirely against your will. “do you still love me?” you ask suddenly, not sure what otherworldly force prompted you to do so. you instantly regret it when satoru’s face goes even redder, and you can tell it’s not from the cold the way his blush spreads to his ears.
“i— uh, i mean—”
“answer me, satoru, i think i have a right to know.”
he looks away and mumbles something about needing to go back home, to feed his fish or something (he doesn’t have a fish), and you grab his hand just as he starts to turn away. “please, satoru, i need to know,” you breathe, squeezing his hand harder when he flinches.
ten silent seconds tick by, but you still don’t let go. so satoru sighs, a soft white puff of air coming from his lips. “yeah.”
your heart breaks again.
“then why did you—”
“because i don’t know how to do this,” satoru says, blue eyes darting all over the place. “i love you, i really do, but i just can’t— i don’t like having thousands of people thinking that i’m only worth looking at if i’m with you, it’s annoying and it pisses me off and i don’t want to accidentally take it out on yo—”
you cut him off with a kiss, ignoring the way he yelps a little in surprise. but thankfully, he doesn’t push you away—instead, his arms instantly wrap around you and pull you closer into his warm, warm chest. satoru’s lips are a little dry, but still minty as ever from the peppermints he’s constantly munching on. he kisses you back like a man starved of affection, and when you two finally break apart, his eyes are just as hungry.
“you idiot,” you whisper, trailing your fingers through his hair as tears prick at the corner of your eyes. “you shoulda just talked to me about it first.”
“i know,” satoru mumbles, looking down bashfully. “‘m sorry.”
“you should be.” you pause, watching satoru’s lips curve into a pouty frown. “i’m sorry too,” you murmur, and he looks up, confused. “i should’ve seen this coming.”
satoru shakes his head and presses his lips to your forehead, lingering for a couple seconds before pulling back. “i missed you.”
“i was gone for less than a day, satoru.”
“oh, so you didn’t miss me?”
“i did,” you admit, exhaling a puff of air when satoru smiles smugly. “shut up, it’s not a competition!”
“yeah it is, but fine, you win,” satoru gives in with a dramatic sigh, reaching down and twining his fingers with yours. his hands, which are significantly bigger than yours, instantly warm you up. “but only ‘cause i don’t want you to break up with me next.”
“i hate you, y’know that?” you grumble, leaning into his side and letting satoru kiss the top of your head. he hums in agreement, reaching out and opening your front door.
“i’m sure you do, baby. now c’mon, let’s get inside n’ warm up. i wanna make it up to you,” satoru says with a grin, bending over and scooping up both boxes.
“oh, yeah? how do you plan to do that?” you challenge, going inside first and holding the door open for satoru. once he’s inside, you close the door and instantly get pinned against it by satoru, whose hands are already creeping underneath your clothes. “satoru, your hands are col—”
he cuts you off by pressing his equally cold lips to yours, smiling against your mouth as he tugs at your clothes. “i know, baby. but i’ll keep you nice n’ warm for the rest of the night, i promise!”
#osaemu#streamer!gojo#gojo x reader#satoru gojo x reader#jjk x reader#gojo x you#gojo x y/n#satoru gojo x you#satoru gojo x y/n#jjk x you#jjk x y/n#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen x y/n#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru x you#gojo satoru x y/n#gojo fluff#jjk fluff#satoru gojo fluff#gojo satoru fluff#jujutsu kaisen fluff#gojo drabbles#jjk drabbles
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ur highschool bully gojo was chefs kiss 💋 what do u think about them going to the same college and taking the same classes?? and the reader sitting next/talking to some other guy and satoru gets jealous?? arwahhhshdhshshs so many possibilities, i hope u continue writing it!!
hi nonnie !! thank you so much :) this is ur official part 2 ! i was struggling to think up some possibilities but this helped a lot :oo | read part 1 here ! -> cw: swearing, jealousy, i let it get fic length oops
(former) highschoolbully!gojo on the brain again… like. when you end up seeing him again however many months later, and you can tell that he’s changed. it’s not like its immediately obvious to anyone who doesn’t really know him like you (used to); but he’s a little softer-spoken and his smiles seem nine times more genuine. it’s not a hundred percent; the kind that really lights up his face instead of just barely falling short of his stark blue eyes, but it's something.
of course, you have nothing to base it off of, because when you do inevitably see him again it's the very definition of meet ugly.
college is a new frontier, but its also a clean slate. its your first time going into something so new without your old bestfriend at your side, but some faint flickering thought reminds you that it might be better that way. but the universe is against you from the very first day, when youre gettin yourself some coffee from the same chain you did the morning of that fateful presentation so many moons ago. you're too busy thinking to yourself what kind of strange parting ritual it is to relive your trauma to notice the lanky, white-haired boy who hits his head on the chiming bell over the doorway. people are giggling around you n sighing dreamily but youre too deep in the music pumping through your headphones to notice and your eyes are glued to the class schedule on your phone, trying to ensure you dont get lost on the first day when—
you blink and your ass is flat on the dirty floor of the coffee shop, and the first thing you register is that your stomach is soaked and burning. you'd spilled your coffee. it takes you a moment to realize, but when you do you're pissed. so you quickly get to your feet, trying to reign in what little of your ego you have left to give the offender who bumped into you a piece of your mind as you look up, then..
how unlucky do you have to be?
just like that, satoru's slid himself back into your life, after ramming through its locked gates. you forget that he always forgets the point of keys, both when it comes to his apartment (which you still have the spare key of in case of emergencies), and the door to your heart. to rub salt in the wound, the only thing that's stained with your coffee order are his shoes, which look like they cost three weeks of your old job salary, but it's all over your shirt. of course it is. because why not? make it look like you tripped and fell into a patch of mud on your way to the lecture hall and tack on an unwelcome reunion with your ex-bestfriend.
to you, it's like the cloud of gloom from your highschool youth has resettled over your head like a swarm of gnats on a dreary, hot summer day. the stars always seem to skew and misalign themselves for you. but for satoru, the stars have handed him one of those huge swirly lollipops that you only ever see being paraded about by toddlers. he recovers almost instantly, trading the burn on his feet and the way it sours your expression like he's just squirted pure citric acid into your throat for a pleasant burn of his own on his cheeks. but it's whatever. girls seem to like it when he blushes, for some reason. he won't question it, if it works on the only one he cares about.
he holds his hand out, ready to help you out like the good samaritan he's become— and it's like a real burn to his heart this time when you ignore it and stand up on your own, refusing to look up and meet his pleading gaze. might as well have taken an iron stoker right out of the fire and jabbed him with it. but he's gojo satoru! he won't be defeated by this one mere, maybe very significant reunion. he's got stamina.
so he offers to buy you a new drink, feels his heart sink when you shake your head (can't even spare a little 'no' in his direction), and talks enough for the both of you when you leave the dingy little store make your way down to campus and the lecture building. you clearly don't want to see him, but he ignores that in exchange to notice the way you shiver every so often. the previously searing-hot coffee that stains your shirt turns cold fast, and moisture n wind don't mix well. he wishes he could offer you some of his own warm coffee, no doubt sickeningly sweet, but he has some sensitivity now, apparently. so, in a brash moment, he decides to take his blazer off and drape it over your shoulders instead.
when you cross the threshold between city and campus, you expect him to yank it off your back and be on his merry way. but he keeps walking next to you, so you walk a little faster, and you absolutely loathe the cheeky little grin that curves the corners of his lips up to show a glint of teeth when he effortlessly keeps up. you curse his long legs when you find yourself winded, but at least you can lose him when you get there.
or, that's what you think. once again, your constellations break themselves to rebuild anew for satoru. you're about to call him a stalker when he follows you all the way to your classroom with that smirk that's growing exponentially until— oh, no.
your phone that's been on the schedule up until now desperately scrolls to the roster— and there it is. he's in your class. needless to say, not another word goes between you as you stomp in and take a seat. luckily for you, you've already corresponded with your roommate's brother (who's annoyingly cute, satoru notices) and agreed to sit next to each other. satoru takes the seat right above you and never stops kicking his freakishly long legs against the wood the entire time.
so yeah, it's obvious he's not a saint; he still has that undoable ego and he's cocky as fuck (as you have the misfortune of finding out when he quickly bullies your professor), but there's a certain familiarity in that no matter how ugly it might appear to others. and if you asked (which he really, really hopes you will someday), he doesn't hang around douchebags who use kids' foreheads for ashtrays and treat girls like they're candy from a glittery pez dispenser. and at least he's switched harassment targets. even though he has an overwhelming sense of superiority over others and never has his lips together for more than five seconds, and even though he has this hellish habit of clicking his pen whenever he's not talking (or when someone else is), it seems like he's changed.
and over time, you gradually find yourself warming up to him. the spunkiness that used to get on your nerves ceaselessly becomes an object of endearment, and you don't really mind the way he never seems to stop moving anymore. it's a nice sort of distraction in the lifeless still of the lecture hall, albeit the pen clicking still drives you near insanity. you notice he always does it obnoxiously and quickly when you're talking to your roommate's brother, but you ignore it.
and for satoru? he hates that he can kinda sorta really tell that you're the only one who can read him like he's a damn book, cus you slowly start to soften up in the nostalgia of his presence like cold playdough between warm fingers that tell you he may have finally caught you again after letting you slip the first time. and he notices it. this time, he's determined not to let you be the one that got away again. but youre really giving him a shit time outta it with the way you constantly entertain the guy who always has his breath in your face.
yeah, he's got a cute face that's sunkissed by freckles. yeah, his hair looks like he models for shampoo companies. and fuck, he has a nice voice. but what of it? satoru's the one with the mesmerizing blue irises and the cloudy white hair your professor wishes he had instead of sad little wisps of old age. still, as chilly days turn into frigid weeks, he gets the perfect backseat angle of the growing relationship between the two of you. the boy's kinda dumb so you copy off of satoru’s work when you need to (he has to hide the 1-0 scoreboard between him and the guy on a sticky note from you when you take his notes), but said guy’s always buying you stuff and lending you erasers and laughing when you flick the shavings at the annoying girl who never stops whispering in the front of the room.
satoru tries to act unbothered, and he almost convinces everyone. including himself. but the angry, burning knot in his chest that's entirely different from coffee stains suggests something more. that should be him at your side. him, making balls of paper with rude scribbles and silly doodles to throw at the people he knows you don't like. him, surprising you with little gifts and the cheap trinkets he knows you adore so much instead of all the luxury things he could afford. there's no way this punk could possibly measure up to him, right? but at least you and satoru are well on your way to becoming friends again. not as close as you used to be, but it's something. substantial. and he's learned to be patient in the time you've been gone.
but he'd be lying through his teeth if he said he wasn't tired of it. he’s endlessly plagued with thoughts of increasing intensity— first, it starts out with just you. only you. the way he likes it. the way he likes your face, and your pretty eyes and your gorgeous lips and your soft hair and your figure and the complimenting clothes you wear. but it takes a turn; thoughts turn into dreams that turn into fantasies and he's lying when he says he doesn't enjoy them when he accidentally lets it slip during a group study session— and it’s all fine— but then, that guy appears. the brat who seems to sit a centimeter closer to you with each coming day. not only does he haunt satoru in real life, he’s tormenting his dreams, too. tainting the image of beautiful you.
needless to say, satoru starts to wake up with his hands gripping his damp pillow like he's choking it, acutely aware of the sweat sliding down his neck and over his chest as he stares up at the ceiling, listening to the dorm's air conditioner run and thinking of what it'd be like for dreams (the ones where he replaces the boy) to become reality.
it's a buildup. and soon, he reaches the apex; it's like a rollercoaster, that stomach-twisting moment when you reach the top of the rail that points to the steep descent downward. but this time, he hopes it's a thrill he gets instead of the usual falling fright; the one he got when he realized he’d slipped between your fingers in highschool.
and satoru finally comes to a grinding halt at the top of the ride one breezy fall day when he decides he wants you back in his life after you smile brightly at him and wave goodbye for the day. he’s tired of you having one foot in and one foot out of his heart; he wants, needs more. he always has, he realizes.
so he’s thinking about you and how to approach the feelings he’s realized during those long lectures, and one morning he comes up with some semblance of a plan when he’s high on the sugar from the fruit tea you bought him that morning. and he hopes that, by the end of it, he'll leave your apartment with your hand in his currently empty one, chilled with the remnants of cold condensation from the bottle.
soon enough, satoru finds himself extinguishing his nerves and raising a tense fist to knock on the door with nothing but the clothes on his back and a flimsy plan to ask you out on a midterm study sesh and maybe even a date, but he stops when he realizes it’s slightly ajar. a brief thought of what look might be on your face when he surprises you crosses his mind, so he lets himself in quietly, because he knows every single floorboard that creaks like the back of his palm from his childhood. he’s hit with a wave of warmth and an achingly familiar scent that twists at his heart, and your apartment is cozy and safe and it screams you and he thinks he catches sight of his jacket slung across the back of the couch in your living room, but he’s not sure so he takes a step forward and—
he’s greeted with the sight of that stupid guy with the nice hair and the freckles, and it makes his heart drop. but even worse, he’s kissing you and his arms are winding around your waist but you’re kissing him back with a slight hesitation that’s blinded to satoru by his shock and the fingers he thought would end up in his own tonight card through the boy’s hair and your lips glisten with the strawberry-kiwi flavored gloss he watched the boy give you a few days back and his world is turning red and he feels like his throat is constricting and he can’t breathe—
and he doesn’t even realize you’ve parted lips and you’re calling his name through the newfound tightness of his chest and the painful ringing in his ears thats even louder than any silence of a lecture hall, or the void that should’ve been filled with your voice during the time you were apart. but now satoru realizes he’d take that any fucking chance to have that again because it’s so much better than what he’s stuck with now. having you, but not really having you, because you’re there but you’re someone else’s and you’re not his and he isn’t yours. the best thing he could ever hope for was for you to own an article of his clothing and a piece of his shattered heart, broken into a million fragments. some cruel voice in his buzzing head reminds him to change the scoreboard to 0-100.
and he could buy you cheap hot coffee or earn your smiles from scrunched up paper balls or even hear your laugh with crude jokes, but there’s no point when he realizes he can’t buy you with caffeine or earn you with hitting the back of people’s heads with his bio notes or have you and your laugh all to himself anymore.
it’s almost pathetic, the way satoru’s voice cracks and changes. the look of unadulterated concern on the face of the boy who stole your lips just adds fuel to the fire.
“gojo? what are you doing here— hey, are you okay? you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
he noticed you’d stopped calling him satoru a few weeks back. he should’ve seen it coming.
“huh? oh, yeah. i’m good. i think you’re the one hallucinating.”
he’d never told a bigger lie in his life.
satoru had left after excusing himself for intruding. how very unlike him to be so polite, you think.
so in the end, he leaves your apartment with something in his hand, after all. but it's not your own— just his blazer that you’d given back to him before he stepped out the door, taunting him with the faint scent of coffee and lingering perfume. his hope was foolish, so it seems. it’s too bad, he thinks. if it were him, he would’ve sandwiched you against your counter while he kissed. but it wasn’t. apparently, it was your turn for your stars to align at the price of his.
and so, gojo satoru, the boy force-turned man with a chipped ego and a completely broken heart, loses you again.
bonus bonus.. part 2….
#here u go. yes!! u!!!!!! sorry it got long#thank you guys for the reception on the last part literally checking tumblr religiously the rbs and comments made me feel like floating#yea hes a hopeless loser srry i dont make the rules#ABND I TRIED TO HOLD HERRR but there was nothing i could do to stop her from cutting her beautiful blue hair off 🐐🐐#gojo satoru#gojo angst#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru x you#gojo x reader#gojo x you#satoru gojo#jjk gojo#gojo jjk#satoru gojo x you#satoru gojo x reader#satoru gojo x y/n#gojo satoru x y/n#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk angst#did not proofread b i hope it’s good 🙇♂️🙇♂️#actually i j realized the coffee campus intro part is similar to another fic i’ve read sorry if u noticed that it was on my subconscious 😞#billet-doux
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day 6: roronoa zoro [cock warming]
࿓ synopsis • you ask to zoro whether he needs any help or not, and in return, he makes you sit on his cock so that it can get warm while he’s sleeping.
―❦ nsfw, opla!zoro, f!reader, reader is being needy & brat, pussy slapping, pet names, teasing, swearing, ‘is all! • 1.2k • a man that takes all my attention to himself in an instant in every type of universe; live action, manga, and anime. I chose to write for la!zoro version ‘cause why not? enjoy, hope I did everything right! [kinktober m.]
“stop moving, you're distracin' me.”
his deep voice cuts your actions of trying to stay still on his lap, adjusting your position so that your numb legs will fix, but, the struggle causes your pussy to clench around his length because of sudden movement which ends up by earning an unsteady thrust. looking at his face, hands gripping the collar of his sleeve, you see his closed eyes, trying to continue the nap he’s taking in the middle of the day.
“sorry –“ you say, smiling innocently knowing he cannot see, “I didn’t mean to, it’s just –“ you try to find a solid word to describe the situation you’re in now but the weight of lust running through your pussy takes your brain away, wanting to break free, letting yourself go and wasting the last thirty-four minutes waste, waking zoro up, being a greedy brat – only to make him not sleep, instead, fuck you. “so much.”
you can’t bring yourself to say what you’re thinking aloud – just fuck me already! Just move this thick cock and fill me up! – pathetic.
you’re here, sitting down on his cock, warming it, being useful.
the moment of the morning came into your mind; the crew went to bring food and new clothes to the ship, and when they left, only you and zoro were on the ship, you said ‘I wanna be useful for you’ because he’s still healing and you wanted to help – anything, you added, which was a bad idea – maybe, it wasn’t that bad though.
zoro, being a greedy boyfriend even if he tries to hide it, decided to make you a useful one – for his damn cock – to warm it up!
“so much?” he teases you, taking you back to reality, making the sensation on your pussy grow bigger each passing time, moving his hips, acting as if he just adjusts his position like you did minutes ago – only this time, it’s an act – to try you, seeing how much you can handle this. folding his arms, he opens his eyes slowly, an eyebrow is raised, questioning, “what’s so much? I even didn’t begin to fuck you, did I, doll?”
opening your legs wider, challenging him, a whimper leaves your mouth yet zoro doesn’t show any sign of being greedy to fuck you – oh, what self-control!
but you’re not done yet. “it seems you will never do,” you say, shrugging, hands on his shoulder building up to his neck, playing with the hair on his neck – the most breathtaking man you have ever seen – he’s so beautiful that you would beg anytime now but you should try first – to break him into the point in which he will let himself go and move his hips. “I know I am here for the help – to warm your cock,” you point to the sight in front of him – your pussy beautifully covering his thick cock, wetness that comes out of you soaking his veined length. “am I helping?”
opening his arms, he puts them behind his head’s back instead as he leans to the wall of the chair you’re sitting on – eyes travel from your tight pussy to your face, meeting with your innocent smile and sparkling eyes.
“u-huh,” he says, trying to understand where you’re heading with this question, because he knows you well enough to realize you want him to move, yet stubborn and prideful to beg, not until the right moment which zoro waits to arrive. “warming my cock so well that I can feel you dripping into it – hot.”
nodding to him, heat rushes to your face at the sudden compliment, making you gain a confident manner, and continue on with your act; being a fucking brat, using his jealousy to achieve your goal – you would feel bad under other circumstances but not today, not when you want him to devour you – he’s hard to resist, and you’re so greedy to be a good girl.
“anything for my crewmate,” not boyfriend – a crewmate. it takes his attention, eyes on your face, daring you to go on with piercing gazes, jaw getting tight, straight face expression that screams danger. it only turns you on further. “I will make sure to provide my service to the captain as well than because he can need – agggh – zoro –!”
your words are cut by him; raising your body up a little until his tip releases you, and then, without missing a heartbeat, putting it down on his length, thrusting into your dozy pussy, earning a scream out of your mouth.
holding his shoulder tightly, you try to stay in balance while he keeps doing that without any particular rhythm and steadiness so that you get cockdumbed mind right away – all dizzy, just moaning, feeling him shoving his dick into you, balls hitting the ass – finally!
“is this what you wanted, brat?” he asks, hands open your skirt by damaging its buttons, nearly tearing it apart, cupping the breasts through the fabric of your bra before letting them watch how they bounce in sync with your body, raising up and down on his cock with more rapid pace now – devouring you – the things you wanted for a long time. “want me to break that pussy, pretty doll – ohhh – uhmm – y/n – you – you will fuckin’ get it!”
his hands are positioned on your waist, looking down, seeing your clit getting wider with each of his hard and strong thrusts, warming it with all the juices you make – you literally soak now, close to the edge, and zoro smirks at you the moment he hears the crew entering the ship.
his possessive and rough side takes control of his mind – his soul as he picks you up, you already begin to beg for him to put his cock inside, pleases coming out of your parted pink lips that you bite so hard. you let him turning your body, abdomen touching the surface of the bed, cock’s tip resting on the entrance of your pussy, then, he slaps it with his dick, a hand finds your neck, putting your face down onto the pillow – his body hovering behind you as your ass gets higher and higher.
it feels so vulnerable to be in this position as if you’re his own fucktoy to play with, and you can’t deny the fact that even the thought of it can make you cum in an instant.
“zoro – aggh – I –“ you try to say when his dick slaps your clit once again, your body jumps – feeling both shy and shameless at the same time but he cuts you out, cock enters you in one go, jolting your body forward.
“cut it. you don’t want to waste your breath now, you will need it when I make you scream my name enough to make all the crew hear it,” he chuckles – the rings of danger echo inside your head, making you look behind and see him; standing on his knees, eyes on your face, a smirk is visible that gives chill down to your spine at the sight – his glory has one meaning – is that he will not leave this room until others – and your brat brain understands only he can have you like this.
“will make sure everyone knows who’s fuckin’ you day and night, including you, you dumb doll. should’ve learned it sooner, but, I’m always open to teaching you how to be a good fuckin' girl for me.”
❦ tagging: @lilvampirina & @snowprincesa1 & @dookiemeshibear *cuties*
#💦 kinktober 2023 first week#kinktober 2023#day 6#zoro#roronoa zoro#roronoa zoro x reader#zoro roronoa x you#zoro x reader#zoro roronoa x y/n#zoro rononoa x reader#zoro x f!reader#one piece#one piece x reader#one piece live action#opla#opla x reader#opla smut#zoro smut#zoro roronoa smut#green#WHAT A BABYGIRL WHO IS BOSSY#was fun to write & hope you found it fun too!
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unclear
bucky barnes x fem!reader
summary: everyone thinks you're dating bucky, except yourself.
word count: 2.4k
warnings: 18+ minors dni. miscommunication (i love this trope, sue me), angst with a happy fluffy ending, quite stubborn reader, implied smut if you squint, usage of petnames such as baby and doll. lowercase for basically everything.
i haven't finished anything in decades, but i suddenly had an idea just now and decided to write it down. surprisingly, i finished it? might have a lot of mistakes and such since i haven't proofread it yet. also, sorry for using lowercase for this, i kinda like how it looks. hope you enjoy this one!
dividers by @cafekitsune!
comments, reblogs, and likes are highly appreciated. thank you! ♡
“you're confusing me. so... you're not dating bucky?'
wanda tilted her head, confusion etched on her face as you spent your weekly girl's night with natasha. it usually consisted of eating food you all desired, drinking until you got wasted, and spilling secrets to one another.
although tonight, you weren't sure if you had any secrets to spill.
"as far as i know, no. we're just friends, teammates. nothing else," you answered with a heavy sigh. "can we talk about something else?"
"hold your horses, young lady! we are not skipping this topic again. you obviously want a label but he isn't giving you one!" wanda protested. she has been constantly asking about you and bucky's relationship for the past weeks, and you always had the same answer. you don't know.
"have you never talked about it with bucky? he looks at you like you'd get lost if he looks away for a second. not a single soul in the tower would think that you're just friends," natasha interjected, taking another sip from the bottle of beer she held. she had a point, as always. "if he's just playing with you, which i highly doubt for barnes, then just end whatever that is. you deserve better than having doubts and confusion, babe."
you've tried asking him multiple times, but every attempt felt like you were stepping on his boundaries. after years of being controlled by hydra, you knew it was possible that he'd hate the feeling of being rushed and entering a relationship that could potentially feel like a cage to him.
but natasha was right. your "relationship" was no longer anything friendly. he sleeps in your bed, claiming he slept better in it, and wakes up beside you to shower you with kisses. none of you even tried to hide it after some time. you always cooked your meals and ate them together, casually feeding one another and stealing kisses in between. you even stopped going on dates and you had no idea if you were exclusive. you deserved to know what your relationship with bucky was, but you were too scared to lose everything once you asked.
"we're not dating. i only see him as a friend, so you can both stop worrying about me." you lied through your teeth, your chest aching as you realised how stupid this was. you sighed and faked a smile, shifting the attention to natasha. "so, tell me about your date with steve! how was the first ever date of captain america since the 40s?"
wanda was distracted by the question, immediately bombarding the now blushing widow with questions. on the other hand, your mind flew away for a minute, finally deciding to get an answer from bucky.
the annual ball that tony stark held for, well, nearly anyone, was nearing. you only had two weeks left, and you haven't even gone out to find something to wear. it was hard to find any motivation to do all that effort when the person you've been waiting to ask you as his date hasn't asked you yet.
although, bucky had a tendency to get shy and hold back. you knew that. so here you were, standing behind the doors to the gym, knowing that bucky would be training at this hour. you still haven't asked him the question you were supposed to ask him, so you decided to do it all at once.
after you've finished your small pep talk, you opened the door to enter the room and your first instinct was to search for bucky.
considering that he was a huge chunk of a man, he was easy to find. however, the sight of him standing in front of a woman that was too close for your comfort wasn't delightful.
he didn't see you entering the room since he was facing the opposite direction, conversing with the agent that happened to be training as well. she had the sweetest and flirtiest smile on her face, bringing her hand up to his arm, slowly caressing it. you didn't mean to easily hear their conversation as you walked closer.
"so, do you happen to have someone for me to have as a date for the ball? i don't want to be lonely on that night, sergeant," the agent said with an extra pout, swaying her hips side to side like a child asking for candy.
"oh, yeah? i think i have someone for you," bucky replied, breaking your heart into pieces with how enthusiastic he was with his answer. "i'm sure you'll—"
you sniffed. unconsciously. not knowing that your tears were already falling, causing your nose to get stuffy. how pathetic, you thought.
your little sniff caught the attention of both the agent and bucky, looking at you in shock. although, the girl was more pleasantly surprised than the opposite. thankfully, you already had your tears wiped before they could see them.
"oh, we didn't see you there!" she greeted you with your name. "we were just talking about our date for this year's ball. who are you bringing?"
"i haven't decided yet, no one's worth it even if i try," you answered bitterly. "so you're going together?"
before bucky could answer, the agent already had her arm wrapped around his, happily smiling at your question. "yeah! amazing, right? i actually thought you two had a thing, but i guess not. glad things worked out in the end."
and that was your last straw. "well, enjoy yourselves. i have to go and find natasha."
you turned to leave, ignoring the loud calls of bucky. you were glad that you never asked him about your relationship and the ball. you were going to be hurt either way.
you spent the next hours stuck in your room, body covered with a thick sheet as you ranted about your frustrations to friday.
it was silly, you knew that, but you refused to call natasha and wanda to remind you of your stupidity and decided to let an ai robot listen to your problems instead.
"and he even flirted back! answering coyly like a teenager. he's 107 years old, fri!" you whined, not noticing the new nickname you've given the alternative intelligence. "ugh, now i have a broken heart and no date in sight. how did it get to this?"
"perhaps you must discuss this matter with sergeant barnes first. your conversation ended quite abruptly with no clear conclusion."
"no, i don't want the truth rubbed on my face," you said, grabbing another piece of tissue to sneeze in. "you restricted him from entering my room, right?"
friday answered with a yes, then you thanked her for listening and decided to get some sleep after tirelessly crying for hours. you knew you had a team meeting with the avengers in a bit, but you couldn't bring yourself to even walk a few steps.
your sleep ended and you were woken up with friday's reminder that it was time for dinner with the team.
with a groan, you pushed yourself off your bed. bucky would be there, but you were too hungry to care. it would be awkward, of course, but you had to face him at some point anyway.
your feet padded towards the door, opening it after trying your hair in a bun.
"ah, fuck."
you jumped at the voice and the body falling to the floor as you opened the door.
"bucky?" you asked, still in shock. "were you sleeping outside of my room?"
you watched bucky stand up, his hand massaging his aching nape as he looked for your eyes. "friday won't let me in. i waited outside instead. i guess i fell asleep during that," he explained, a frown forming on his face. "did you restrict me from entering our room?"
your eyes widened at his choice of words. our room. he considered your room to be his room as well. while that would've made you melt in an instant, you were still hurt to entertain that possibility.
"this is my room, barnes. not yours, not ours. and yes, i had you restricted because i couldn't face you yet. what do you need anyway?"
"i wanted to see you, talk to you." a flash of pain crossed his eyes. "whatever happened at the gym, it's—"
"bucky, you don't have to explain anything to me. we're just friends. it's my fault i assumed we were something. i just need some time to get over it."
"but i thought we were something as well..." he replied, his voice was almost as quiet as a whisper. "i thought we were dating."
"were we?" you asked, genuinely curious. "we never.. you never said anything. i mean, yeah, i wished it meant something, but i thought you wouldn't want to be trapped in a relationship with me, so i just waited. apparently, i was right and i can't blame you for that."
"right about what? the thing that happened in the gym this morning?" he asked. you nodded in response. "i know it sounds like i was flirting back, well i didn't know at the moment, until i asked steve who was clueless but he called nat to help me out and explained that it looked like i was flirting back. i wasn't. i was just going to suggest sam as a date for her. i would never agree to anyone."
oh. so he just wasn't interested in anyone at all.
"besides this one girl who's constantly been in my head. that's if she'd even give me a chance and say yes. i fucked it up badly before i could even ask her properly."
you knew what hoping got you, but you couldn't help but think that he was talking about you. he'd have to be clueless to say all those things in front of you only for it to be someone else.
"i love you, baby. i should've told you that, i should've made it clear sooner. i'm so sorry i let you have doubts when i could've been reassuring you about what i feel for you."
"bucky..."
"i would never feel trapped with you, doll. only you made me feel so much love and freedom. i'd be a fool to let go of that. i'm sorry it took a few hits and harsh words from natasha to make me realise that i wasn't giving you enough when you deserve everything." he held your face in his hands, bringing you closer to him. you felt breathless, tears threatening to fall but this time it was out of joy. "hydra made sure i had no voice to express myself. now, i'll use it to let you know that i love you so fucking much that it hurts when you're not around. i promise to work on it. if anything like this happens again, ask me, baby. demand things from me. i'll give you everything in a heartbeat."
"even if i ask for your arm?"
he laughed, a sound that was music to your ears. "it's yours baby. although, i do like fucking you with my metal—"
"bucky!" you scolded him, hitting him lightly on the chest.
"sorry, baby. couldn't help it. missed my girl so much."
his girl. you loved hearing that.
"it's only been a few hours. don't be silly," you reminded him, but you knew you also felt the same.
"i miss you even when i don't see you for a second." you couldn't help but laugh at his words. "something funny, doll?"
"sorry, natasha said something similar about you a few days ago," you answered. "i'm sorry for assuming so quickly, bucky. you deserved the chance to explain."
"and you did let me explain. i can't blame you for assuming and getting hurt when i never gave you the confirmation to believe otherwise. don't apologise for it, baby."
"i love you," you said, causing him to grin widely.
"yeah? you love me too?" he asked, a hint of pink tinting his cheeks. "this is official now, right? we're dating?"
you nodded happily, giggling as he landed a kiss to your mouth. "so, you wanna go to the ball with me?"
he kissed you again. "don't. i'm supposed to be asking you that. i had an entire thing prepared for you, i even dragged half of the team to help me out days ago. besides wanda and natasha, of course. couldn't let them tell you about it."
your heart swelled, he was already planning to ask you before all of this misunderstanding happened, and it could've been solved with communication. lesson learned, indeed.
"well hurry because i can't wait to say yes," you playfully threatened him, kissing the tip of his nose until the loud rumble of your stomach interrupted your sweet moment. "ah, right. i was on my way to eat dinner when i opened the door."
bucky laughed, his eyes twinkling witth adoration as he kept his eyes on you. "we can't have you starving, that's for sure. come, let's get you something." he held your hand, and dragged you to the kitchen. he turned to look at you with a playful smile. "wanna cook together like the old times?"
you smiled. "like the old times."
in the middle of your cooking session, you heard whistles and claps along with the footsteps that entered the kitchen. you both turned to find the rest of the team with shit eating grins.
"finally! so is this real or do we need to smack your heads?" tony asked, his hand placed on his hip.
"it's always been real, stark," bucky answered, wrapping his arm around your waist. "except this time, i'm making sure my entire world knows it."
"i think everybody knows you have a thing for each other, barnes." clint added.
"i meant my entire world, not everybody." bucky looked at you with awe. "she's my world."
bucky's answer gained various loud reactions from the team, mostly calling him a cheesy old man and fake gags, but there you were, cheeks heating up as you looked back at him with the same amount of love, if not more.
and he did ask you to be his date to the ball the day after, surprising you with his so-called secret plan.
a year later, he surprised you with a ring as he knelt on one knee.
if you have any requests for bucky, send them my way! 💌
#bucky barnes#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky barnes fluff#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes x fem!reader#bucky barnes smut#bucky x reader#mcu#marvel#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes fanfiction
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gorgeous can we get bombshell reader and Spencer May be the first time he’s snappy with her bc he’s stressed and she’s just so taken aback and May be even tears up? And then just a fluffy ending with Spencer apologizing
thank you for requesting! fem, 2.2k
Spencer Reid is extra kissable when he's frowning. Button up and no suit jacket, sleeves pushed past his elbows and hair on the shorter side, he holds a certain confidence in his hands where they're tucked in his pockets. Sure of himself, and clearly agitated.
You're always on his side; you don't think twice about easing into the conference room to see what's wrong.
"Hey," you say with a slight lilt to your tone. You're always on his side, and always flirting. "What's wrong?"
"Why does something have to be wrong?" he asks.
Not mean. Not light. Somewhere in the solid middle, his gaze loyal to the laptop on the desk he stands behind. You step close enough to smell the subtle scent of his cologne, wondering if he can smell your perfume in turn, and if it's one he likes. You try to touch his hand and he takes the desk into his grip instead, leaning forward, out of reach.
"That's not what I meant to convey," you say, still flirting. You're not stupid, you realise his mood, but you're hoping it's somebody else's fault. "But if you aren't happy to see me then I'd definitely suggest there was something wrong."
"I'm just trying to figure something out."
This close, to your own credit, Spencer usually trips up. He's been getting better as you've grown closer, your 'torturing' —as the team likes to call it— only prompting the occasional blush or stammer. You don't flirt with Spencer to torture him no matter what anyones says and you never have, you flirt with him because he deserves to be complimented. He's andsome, intelligent, and courageous. What others might miss you see in blaring neon lights: he's a catch. You intend on making your intentions known, and if that means playing the long game or the slow burn, that's okay. You like to dance.
You put yourself between him and the laptop screen. He can still see it if he cranes his neck, and he does. "You look a little tired, handsome. Looking at a screen all day will hurt you in the end. Neck aches, shoulder cramps, eye strain. Though I can't help with the latter, the former…" His arm is solid under your hand, your fingertips running along the ridge of a stark vein.
He doesn't quite flinch away, but he moves quickly enough to startle you, lamenting, "Could you give me some space, please?"
That's all well and good, you rush to do as he's asked and step back because the very last thing you want is to make him uncomfortable and his voice is frankly acidic, but everything is moving too quickly, you're not as aware as you should be —you smash your hand backwards into a cold cup of coffee and knock it straight into the lap of Spencer's laptop.
"No," you gasp, grabbing the cup before the entirety of it can empty. Coffee wells between the keys and you go to grab it to– well, to do something.
"Stop it!" Spencer shouts, voice sharp as a knife. "You always do this," —quieter, venomous— "you can't help yourself."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"I would answer you if I had the time. I'll be busy rescuing my hard drive before an entire month of work is wasted thanks to your dire need for attention."
He slips around you and stalks out the door, coffee dripping from the corner of his laptop in a sorry trail that shines in the fluorescent lights.
Your first rush of tears are driven by indignation; it was an accident, you didn't mean to do that, why would you ever do that? But the second, more encompassing rush is a hot mixture of shame and guilt. What have you done?
You take a hesitant step toward the door but don't bother following him. I'll make things worse, you think, bringing a hand to your face. Makeup marrs your hand as you wipe your cheeks. You stare down at the stains for a long, long time.
I'll apologise, you think eventually, rubbing at the mascara like soot on your palm. Just as soon as I look okay again.
You don't want Spencer or anyone to see you upset. You wear your makeup and your confidence for yourself, not to hide any insecurity but to embolden yourself, to be yourself. But to get to your desk you'd have to leave the conference room bared as you are, and you'd have to face Spencer, and the second option brings more tears.
This is all so messy, and it's your fault.
I'm such an idiot. I'm exactly what he thinks of me.
You sit in the chair furthest from the door with a pack of tissues from the cubby and rub your hot cheeks dry, streaks of mascara in the shapes of your fingertips like soot left behind. It's sitting that gets you —the shock of tears at being shouted at by someone you care about amplifies into a distress you can't explain. It's stupid, it's stupid. You press your face into your hands and curl in on yourself at the table, ears ringing. I'm so, so stupid.
—
The inside of Spencer's lip is bleeding, metallic on his tongue. He's white hot annoyance all the way to Penelope's office, choked as he tells her he needs her help.
"Spencer?" she said. "What happened? Are you okay?"
He realises what he's done. "Please, Garcia, can you do something? I really need to go."
He doesn't hear her response beyond her surprised but emphatic Sure, spinning on his heel to walk back the way he came. He rubs at his temple, moving between a slow trudge and a speed walk as he assesses the damage of what he's said. What did he say? your dire need for attention.
Your sniffing is something out of his fucking nightmares. Who does he think he is? You're sitting exactly where he left you next to that half empty coffee cup, a tissue scrunched in your trembling hands, visible in the small glass window of the door. You must be thinking of what he's said to have missed the sound of his footsteps, or perhaps he's left you too upset to want to look up.
He sees the moment a sob works through you, watches you hold your breath in a painful effort to keep it down, raising the tissue to your eyes and catching your tears before they fall. You're doing a lacklustre job despite your efforts, the oily shine of mascara iridescent on your cheeks. Or maybe that's tear tracks. It's hard to tell.
Spencer fights with himself. He doesn't know if deserves to come running back or if it would be more fair to send JJ or Derek in to comfort you.
"You made your bed," his mom would say, not without affection. "You have to lie in it."
Spencer squeezes his eyes closed to push away the memory, surveying the damage he's done carefully as he crosses the threshold back into the conference room. Your head lifts at the sound of the door, your stammer visible before you speak, "Spence– Spencer. Is your laptop okay? Did I break it? I'm so sorry."
Gideon would tell Spencer to be nicer. Hotch would say Reid in that stern shade of voice that's half disapproval and half fondness. They'd both tell him to be better, but neither of them have ever had to see you as you look now, tearstained and sorry, eyes wide with worry but shoulders tense. He has his role models, and yet none of them could possibly give him a way to apologise that could ever make up for they way he's made you feel.
Little dramatic, Morgan would say. Start with a hug, loverboy. Can't go wrong with a hug.
He should ask but he doesn't, a second transgression against you. Spencer pushes past chair and the sodden circle of carpet to your chair, pausing in case you're going to tell him to shove it. You lick your lips. "Did I break it?" you ask, as though resigned for a yes
He can't temper that amount of self-hatred on you. It doesn't suit you. He much prefers you the way you like to be, confident in everything, flirty and funny and soft, in both touch and touches. He takes your face into a careful hand, tilting it toward the light and weary of your shallow exhale. "I…" He begins and ends, stroking your tacky cheek with his index finger, as though brushing away an eyelash. If it were real he'd say make a wish, and you would wish for him or some similar sweetness, salacious smile to boot, or earnestness fit to fill a mountain. I wish you'd realise how pretty you are and stop denying me the pleasure of a beautiful boyfriend, you'd croon.
His fingers collect at your jaw and slip behind your ear as he cleans your skin with the side of his thumb. You lean into the touch, slashing his hesitancy in two.
"Sorry," he says, pulling your head toward his neck gently as he leans down to hold you. "I'm sorry. Don't be upset, please. Don't be upset "
"I'm an idiot–"
"No," he says, with the facts to back his denial. "I'm an idiot, I should never have upset you like this–"
"I broke your computer, it's just like you said–"
"I shouldn't have–"
"–I'm so needy I could've ruined all your hard work," you say, wriggling with guilt like you attempt to pull away.
Spencer really doesn't want to let you go now he has you, not until he's sure you'll stay in one piece. "If it's ruined, it's my fault for failing to back it up."
He should tell you that he's sorry for what he said. He knew it wasn't right he moment it escaped him, to speak to you like that, and accuse you of what he did. He basically called you selfish, uncaring. He implied it and worse, and for what? An accident? A mis-step that he practically forced you into?
"I never should've said that to you," he says, breaking his hug to crouch in front front you, searching blindly for your hand as he holds eye contact, looking up. You deign to frown down. "And I walked away. And you're crying," —his voice fries with sympathy— "because of me."
Your hand is limp in his. "I'm sorry," he says.
"It's okay." You sniffle and nod, lips struggling into a smile.
"It's not okay."
"Well, I hit your coffee over, so we're even."
"You accidentally spilled my drink, you didn't deserve to be mocked."
"Spence…" Your eyes half-lidded, you wince down at the cradle of his hand where it holds yours. "Did I break it?"
"I don't know. I got to Garcia's office and I knew I did the wrong thing, so I came back."
You swallow audibly. "I just wanted to make you feel better."
"I know, angel." He stands again as your eyes well with tears to hug you, kissing the top of your head. "I'm sorry. That was all me, okay? I shouldn't have snapped at you."
What follows is agony. Spencer patting your back through a panicked bubble of tears, wretched in knowing he caused it, and worse is the look you give him as he wipes your messed up make up away in want of a mirror, like you're grateful.
"Does it look really bad?"
"N–no. You look really pretty," he says.
"Are my eyes puffy?"
A little. "No. You look great." He can't apologise anymore– it won't help you feel better now, it'll just assuage his own worry. What you need is a different reassurance. "It's hard not looking at you, sometimes, you look that nice. But you know that already."
"I don't mean to do that. I didn't mean to."
Spencer puts his hand above your heart. "I know you didn't. I really, really shouldn't have said it. I was being cranky and I struck out like a kid."
"...You're not just saying I look nice to get back in the good books, are you?" you ask.
Spencer leans in, nearly nose to nose with you. "Of course not."
You tilt your head as though you might kiss him. He knows you won't and he's delighted anyways. It means you're feeling okay. He's nearly forgiven, or, at the very least, you're not actively upset. "I thought I liked seeing you pissed off, but now I'm not so sure."
"It's not a good look on me," he murmurs. "But it looks great on you, if you want to get angry with me."
"Well now I can't. I know it's what you want."
"Can I give you a hug?" he asks.
You drop all your acts and slide your arms around his neck. He wraps you up slowly, one arm at a time, careful to put all the pressure exactly where you like it.
"That feels nice," you mumble.
He bends into you and rubs your back. "Yeah?"
"Don't," you warn.
He draws a shape into your back with his fingers, slow, tiny things that make you squirm. "Don't what?"
"You're tickling me." You don't sound unhappy about it.
"What?" he asks. "I can't hear you over the sound of me being a huge jackass. Sorry, angel."
Your giggle is honey into his shoulder, sticky and sluggish as his circles turn to stars.
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