#but he reminds me of my real asshole son | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

seungfl0wer · 16 days ago

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*𝙄𝙫𝙚 𝙂𝙤𝙩 𝙔𝙤𝙪*

Pairing: Changbin x Reader (Fem)

Genre: Angst (Happy ending of course)

Warnings: Abusive father! Violence, Blood, Alcohol, Sick mother, Lots of cursing. Father is a real piece of shit and puts hands on reader multiple times. Sorry for any mistakes or missing tags.

Just for another warning because I think it’s important. This has content that could trigger some people. Please please read the warnings. If any of them make you uncomfortable please don’t read. Also a reminder. You’re not alone. No one ever should be laying their hands on you. I love you. You’re loved. You don’t ever deserve anything like this.

Find The Request Here

-🖤

Changbin wrapped his arms around you pulling you close to him. He kissed your neck tenderly nuzzling himself into your neck. You both were snuggled up on the couch watching a show. “My angel” he said softly before softly kissing your neck once more. When you were with him it felt like nothing else mattered like the world was alright. Your moment of happiness was short lived though seeing your phone buzzing. It was your father. Just seeing his name flash on your phone made you anxious.

After your mother had passed away your dad became an even bigger monster. He was always a good for nothing, But now not working as much as he did he stayed home drinking. Your mother had told you before the only reason she had stayed with him was because she didn’t have anywhere else to go. Her family was from another country, she didn’t have much money or friends. She was such a brave woman though. You don’t know how she dealt with him so long but I guess him never really being home helped. He had gotten fired from his big job because of his drinking and anger problems. Going to work one day hungover and punching a coworker so hard it broke his nose. He had to pay a hefty fine for that. Now he has a slow job where he only works a few days.

One of your earliest memories of him being his asshole self was him telling you how he hated that you were a girl. He hated that in his words ‘that useless bitch couldn’t even give me a boy.’ He wanted a son so badly and he made sure you knew that. He never really bonded with you however he’d be damned if you didn’t respect his authority. The first time he ever laid hands on you, you were 9. You accidentally knocked over a table braking the lamp that was placed on it. He grabbed you by the wrist smacking you across the face. ‘You stupid fucking brat! Look what you did, you’re just like your fucking mother!’ He spat pushing you away from him.

After that day it just kept going. Having to wear long sleeves at school to hide the bruises. At one point you had to stay home for almost a week. You had stepped in front of him to protect your mom when he hit you square in the face busting your lip. It stayed swollen and bruised for a while. Tooth slightly cracked from the incident.

You wanted so badly to tell someone. Confide in a teacher anything. You were scared to though. Scared they’d blame your mom, put her in jail and take you away. So you endured it. As your mom started to get sick he turned more of his attacks on you. Although a complete peace of shit he wasn’t stupid. He knew if he did anything to her the doctors would see it.

After she had passed you kept yourself from the house as best as you could. Not going home as much as you possibly could. You got a job at a cafe down the road and that’s how you met changbin. He was a regular who once you started talking admitted to only coming so much to see you.

You kept your home life a secret to him as much as you could but one day you were getting intimate you forgot about the bruises. When he had lifted your shirt his smile dropped. He looked at you with wide eyes “what the fuck? Who did this to you?” He said clenching his jaw. All you could do was sob he held you in his arms rubbing your back. “I’m sorry for raising my voice I just- y/n please- what happened?” He asked.

Through your sobs you told him, you unloaded everything in a word vomit of sadness. He would and wanted to go find your father. To beat him senseless, to show him how it feels but he knew you needed him more. He held you so tightly, feeling his own heart breaking from your words. Knowing a family member could do this to someone they were supposed to protect. To love and cherish just broke him. He was such a family oriented person and now he realized why you never wanted him to meet him. Never talked about him. He asked why you couldn’t just leave explaining to him how your mother wasn’t from here, how you had no family and no one else to rely on.

“Shit- it’s my dad” you said frantically picking the phone up.

“Where the fuck are you? He spat.

“I’m- I’m just at a friend’s house” you stuttered.

He laughed “sure, you’re probably slutting around. Get your fucking ass home.”

He hung up leaving you shaking. “I gotta go.” You said picking your keys up.

“Y/n you don’t have to” Changbin said with pleading eyes.

“I’m sorry.” You said before heading to the door.

Your brain wondered what was going on. Why he needed you home. As you pulled up coming through the door you saw him slumped in his usual chair. “About fucking time” he hissed. “Do something useful and go get me some more beer” he demanded.

You stood there almost dumb founded. Before he hissed again “don’t make me say it again!”

You nodded heading down to the store and getting it for him. When you got home again you sat the beer beside him. He gave you a smirk “glad you know how to listen” he chuckled. Your nose twitched at his smell, you hated being close to him. The smell of alcohol, cigarettes and B.O. always radiated off of him. He motioned for you to leave and you did slinking back to your room to text changbin.

Him: Y/n! Text me back! I’m worried!

You: I’m fine. He just wanted beer

Him: I swear I’ll end him one of these days

You: I’m gonna go to bed ok? I’ll see you in the morning! Love you!

Him: Love you to beautiful. Text me when you wake up🖤

You fell asleep shortly after always finding peace in sleep. The next few days were the same old. Going to Changbins after work going home late when you knew he’d be passed out. Today though. You had to run home for your wallet. When you walked through the door your dad was in the kitchen. You took one look around and realized something had to have happened. Things were thrown around. Smashed. Your body froze before you could go to walk back out he saw you.

“Where do you think you’re fucking going!” He yelled. He made a bee line toward you.

“I’m- I’m picking up another shift at work I just came home to grab something.” You lied.

“Bull fucking shit!” He spat.

He grabbed you by your throat lifting you up against the wall. His eyes were dark, knuckles bloody from punching the wall. “I get fucking fired from my god damn job only to come home to see you running back out? For what huh? To go fucking whore around some more?” He said. “No! There’s gonna be some fucking changes!” He screamed.

He dropped you to the floor before grabbing you by your wrist dragging you to the kitchen. “You’re gonna get another fucking job, you’re gonna start paying the other bills!” He spat. “You got it!”

When you didn’t answer right away he slapped more like punched you across the face. “Answer me bitch!” He said gritting his teeth. All you could do was nod scared for your life. You felt a warmth running down, your nose was bleeding.

“You’re fucking pathetic you know that, just like your fucking mother! That bitch. That bitch fucking deserved what she got! I’m glad she’s fucking dead!” He spat. Something had come over you at that point. You shoved back making him stumble backwards. You made a dash to the door luckily in his drunken stupor he stumbled getting back up. You ran. Not even bothering getting in your car afraid it take to long.

So you ran. You ran as fast as you could until you couldn’t anymore. You hid yourself in the bushes at the park panting. Trying to catch your breath as you fumbled to call changbin. “Hey angel” he said happily but when he heard you breathing heavy his heart sank. “Y/n what’s wrong? Are you ok?” He asked.

“I’m- I’m at the- park down- down the road- please” you stuttered out.

“Stay there I’m just down the road!” He said before grabbing his keys speeding to you.

He gripped the steering wheel afraid for what had happened. “Angel? I’m here!” He yelled out.

You peaked your head out, when he got a good look at you anger filled his body. ‘That mother fucker’ he snarled. There was no time to be angry right now though. You needed him. So desperately needed him.

He sat beside you pulling you into his arms. He took his jacket placing it around you as he whipped away the blood from your nose. He noticed the handprint mark around your neck, he gritted his teeth seething. You sobbed, holding onto him for dear life. He rubbed your back “ssh sh it’s ok angel, I’m here, I got you.” He said.

He rocked you back and forth letting your sobs subside before asking you anything. “Does it hurt?” He asked lifting your face to him looking over your nose and neck. You nodded. It hurt to swallow, hurt to breathe, everything just hurt. “Can I take you to the hospital?” He asked. You were hesitant but you nodded.

The car ride there all he could do was watch over you. Scared something could seriously be wrong. Cursing at himself for not being there. He was in the process of finding a new place. A new place so you could move in with him. The only reason you didn’t live with him now was for the fact he had other roommates and if the tenant found out about you they all could be evicted. He was gonna surprise you today with the good news, that he found a place. Close to his work and close to a bakery you had wanted to work at.

When he had gotten to the hospital they all looked at him like he had done it. They checked you over asked him a million questions. The cops being called from below to ask him questions. They weren’t completely shocked when they heard your dad’s name. He was notorious for his anger outbursts and violence. He had a list of charges that had gotten one being the man he punched at his old job. They wrote everything down, took pictures of your bruises and wounds. Asking you lots of questions before leaving.

“Y/n did you know you had a broken rib at one point?” A nurse asking you.

You shook your head.

“Looks like it happened a while ago, it fused back but not properly. You ever have sharp pains?” She asked.

“Yeah, she use to complain about side pains but they kinda just stopped.” Changbin chimed in.

“How is she right now?” Changbin asked.

“Nothings broken however you’re lucky, the pressure he had around your throat bruised your vocal cords. Any harder you could be looking at serious damage”

The nurse had left to grab some papers changbin took your hand into his. He kissed your cheek softly rubbing his thumb over yours. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there” he said softly.

You shook your head “I don’t want him hurting you either” you said looking up at him.

“I’m proud of you though, pushing back and getting yourself out of there. Your mom would be proud” he said with a small smile. His words made you smile a bit. “She definitely would.”

“I had some news to tell you” he said hoping this would make you smile.

“Yeah?” You asked.

“Yeah. I’m moving. Well we’re moving” he said with a smile. When you looked at him a bit confused his smile grew “I got a place for the two of us. Wish it could have happened sooner but-“ he said.

You wrapped your arms around him hugging him tightly “we’re gonna live together? I’ll get to spend all the time with you?” You said eagerly.

“Yep! Got the keys today!”

When the door opened you thought it was the nurse however it was an officer. “Y/n we have your father in custody. Do you have a place to stay for the mean time?” He asked looking over at your boyfriend.

“I do, but can I go back and get something’s you asked.

The officer nodded “I’ll have to escort you because it’s a crime scene now.”

You nodded.

“Whenever you get discharged we can go alright?” He said before walking out.

After you went to the house grabbing your clothes, laptop and a few things you smiled saying good riddance to this place. You had the few things from your mom packed, having nothing more in this house for you.

Moving in with changbin was something to get use to. However he helped you every step of the way. You got into much needed therapy and after your father’s sentence you felt like things were going up. As a little house warming gift Changbin had surprised you with a cat. You had bonded with him with the many times he had taken you to the cat cafe. You always said how much you wanted him and now you had him. You had your little family now.

Changbin showered you in love as usual, never missing a chance to compliment you, praise you and tell you how much he loved you. You knew in your heart your mom wherever she was, she was happy. Happy seeing her little girl finally get out of the situation. To live her life to the fullest.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

💙 If you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something🩵

Taglist: @satosugu4l @do-you-remember-summer-127 @xines16 @minh0scat @troublemaker02 @tr-mha-fan @lunearta @velvetmoonlght @minghaosimp

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saccharinesatoru · 1 month ago

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Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy (m)

Pairing: Gojo x reader (afab)

Genre: cowboy!gojo x bandit!reader + smut

Word count: 5.5k

Summary: You're just an innocent girl who got caught up in a crime. You've never broken the law before and are desperate to stay out of jail. Lucky for you, Sheriff Gojo has just the solution.

Warnings: language, coersion (lowkey highkey), oral (m and f receiving), fingering (f receiving), degradation, praise (like if you squint), penetration (m in f), just really rough sex lmao, maybe typos idk I didn't proofread this

a/n: surprisingly,,,, I'm not dead. i am back. i saw the fanart of cowboy!gojo and never wanted to ride something so badly- and i’m not talking about a horse. oh and i also know little to nothing about cowboys or even the time period that cowboys existed in so i’m sorry if i like,,, get the cowboy lore incorrect lmao enjoy

xx Jay

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You were fucked. And, fuck, did you know it.

“You idiot!” you cursed, “Do you wanna die? How could you be so stupid?”

Your partner in crime (literally) turned to you with a crazed grin on his face, high on the rush. “What? Don’t tell me you’re scared of some little sheriff.”

The sheriff, in question, is none other than Gojo Satoru. Not only was he the youngest sheriff in the region, but he was an incredible shot and phenomenal horseback rider. The man was known all throughout the west for his strength, wit, and impeccable skill as a marksman. And he just so happened to be the man hunting you down as you speak.

“Am I scared? Am I scared?” you yell in disbelief, “Hell fucking yeah I’m scared! You just had to rob that bank, didn’t you? Toji, this is insane. We’re going to die, and it’s all because you wanted a little extra cash to blow at some saloon since you’re shit at cards and are always too drunk to make a reasonable gamble!”

His eyes widened at your statement, “I’m just down on my luck that’s all!”

You roll your eyes and continue pacing around the small room, almost internally counting down the minutes until you're inevitably caught and thrown in a cell to rot. Maybe Toji could tough it out in jail (assuming he wasn’t hanged for his crimes), but you knew you weren’t cut out for that kind of life. It’s not like you meant to get caught up in this life, after all. A few bad decisions led to this nightmare of a reality, and now you were about to ride this sinking ship with the buffoon in front of you who was pushing 40 and still thought it was a good idea to devote the little cash he had on reckless gambling instead of caring for the adorable, perpetually scowling son he left behind to pursue a life of crime.

“Don’t give me that look, doll,” his tone is sickly sweet but showing no real affection or warmth. “Don’t forget that you’re an accomplice in this crime too. Who was in the carriage waiting for me when I ran out of the bank with the cash, huh? Oh, that’s right! It was you!”

Running your fingers through your hair, you sit down and rest your head in your hands. “Don’t remind me, asshole,” you spit out, tone equally as harsh. “You think I wanted this? I didn’t know you were gonna do that shit! I owed you a favor- one favor, Toji! What, you think because I owed you one, I wanted to spend the rest of my life looking over my shoulder for the most feared sheriff in the west? Believe it or not, but I don’t want to live this way!”

He huffs and sticks a cigar in his mouth, lighting it and letting out a puff of smoke before meeting your eyes again, “Well, tough shit, doll. This is the hand you were dealt, and now you’ve gotta decide whether or not you’re gonna fold.”

You roll your eyes, sensing a migraine coming on. “Shut the fuck up with your poker references, Toji. You’re not good enough at any card game to warrant that kind of talk.”

“Bitch,” he mutters under his breath.

You turn around and are about to rip into him when you hear the sound of incoming horses and a voice call out, “They’re just up ahead!”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Toji curses as he puts out his cigar and stands up hastily. He looks around the room frantically and meets your eyes before darting out of the shared space.

“Fuck! Toji, come back!” you shout as you rush after him. You’re not all that well-versed on running from the police given you’ve literally never had a reason to do so. To say you’re relying on Toji to get you two out of this predicament is an understatement. After all, that man has committed more crimes than interacted with his own son.

Running out of the room and following his footsteps, you exit out the backdoor. Your jaw drops to the ground at the sight in front of you. Toji sat on top of your very own horse, grabbing her by the reins and turning to you with a devilish smirk on his face. “Sorry, doll, I gotta cut ties here. ‘Can’t afford to get caught, you know? I’m sure you understand. Let me borrow your horse, yeah? I owe ya one.”

You can’t even fully process his words, you’re seeing red with the amount of rage consuming you. Frozen in place, you watch Toji ride away on your horse, effectively abandoning the house that was about to be raided by police.

Toji gets a fair distance away from the house before you hear the same voice yell, “There he is! You lot track him down. I’ll stay back and search the rest of the house. He had an accomplice. I’m sure they’re hiding out here somewhere.”

As soon as the man is done speaking, you hear multiple horses run off in Toji’s direction. You’re scared shitless of what’s to come. You just know the man about to search the house is the famous sheriff you had just been professing your fear of to that backstabbing bum who stole your fucking horse. Even though you know you’re thoroughly, laughably, undeniably fucked, you can’t help but laugh internally at the thought of Toji being captured by the sheriff’s men. You hope they don’t hurt your horse, although you doubt she’ll be yours much longer since you’re about to be sent off to jail.

Cutting your losses and acknowledging defeat, you walk back into the house, ready to face the renowned sheriff. Walking back into the kitchen, your footsteps alert the man of your location, and he makes his way into the room.

If you weren’t scared out of your mind at what’s to come, you might have started drooling, honestly. If this man weren’t known for his near superhuman abilities, he would have been known for his looks alone. You had never seen or even heard about a man that looked like him. He had bright white hair that peaked out from his hat. His skin was so fair and beautiful you swore he was made of porcelain. His lips were a pretty pink that somehow had a glimmering shine to them. He wore black denim with a black button up, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, exposing his large hands and delectable arm veins. For a reason unknown to you, he wore a blindfold over his eyes. You could only wonder what his eyes looked like, although you imagined they were as beautiful as the rest of him.

He looked unreal. This whole situation felt unreal. You still hadn’t wrapped your head around the fact that you were about to be arrested let alone the fact that you were standing in a room with a man that looked like that.

“Well, well,” Gojo chuckles, “Here I was thinking Toji’s accomplice had to be some ugly brute with a tobacco addiction. But here you are instead.”

You rocked on the balls of your feet out of nerves, “I- I’m sorry to disappoint.”

He laughs fully this time. “And a sense of humor, too? What did Toji do to get you roped into this in the first place, huh?”

Your eyes widen slightly at this. It’s like he could see right through you. Was it that obvious that you didn’t live a life of crime? You suppose it’s times like this where your naturally expressive face and body language actually benefited you, as Gojo must have known about the true nature of your involvement just by the way you reacted to his presence.

“I, um…” you tried to pick your words in a way that made you look the least guilty of committing a crime. “I only agreed to help him since I owed him a favor…”

This seemed to pique Gojo’s interest. “Oh? And what did the lying, deceitful, manipulative, gambling addict do to earn a favor from a pretty girl like you?”

Your face flushes when you process his words. Warranted and accurate insults about Toji aside, the human embodiment of perfection called you pretty.

You must have been frozen in place for a second or two because when you blink again, Gojo is standing closer to you and leaning inward, “Are you with me, sweetheart?”

Eyes widening, you nod your head vigorously and elicit another chuckle from the man.

“Well,” you sigh after being able to mentally calm yourself, “he helped my family in a tough situation. My mother was very sick, and Toji just so happened to have the proper remedies to heal her…”

Although you can’t see his eyes, you can tell that Gojo raises his eyebrows in curiosity, and his silence prompts you to continue.

“Believe me, I never wanted to help him out. Or, at least, when I agreed to help him, I had no idea he was gonna drag me into this mess. But I couldn’t just walk around my house and pass by my mother without thinking that, if it weren’t for that lunatic, she wouldn’t be with us anymore.”

Gojo hums and brings his hand to his chin as if in thought. “I bet your family would be pretty disappointed to see you now though, right? Doing all this for your mother is admirable, but you still committed a crime… What kind of sheriff would I be if I just let you off the hook because you told me some sob story and batted your eyelashes at me, hm?”

You didn’t know how to react to his words. Sure, he’s right, your family would be disappointed to see you in this position. You’d never gotten into any sort of trouble before- certainly never done anything illegal.

“You thought you owed a simple favor, sure… But last time I checked, the pathway to heaven wasn’t paved with good intentions.” he tuts. “But jail time seems a little harsh, no? What do you think we can do to solve this little problem?”

Your heart is beating so hard that you wonder if Gojo could hear it from where he stood. “Please, I’ll do anything. I’ve never broken the law before, and I can’t afford to leave my family and go to jail.”

“Anything, huh?” Gojo smirks and pulls down his blindfold to reveal the most striking, beautiful eyes you had ever seen in all your life. “Well, how could I turn down an offer like that?”

You almost didn’t even process his words since you were so stunned by his eyes. In your entire life, you had never seen such a bright, beautiful, magnificent shade of blue. You had seen blue eyes before, sure. But, like the rest of his appearance, his eyes looked mythical.

“Quiet all of a sudden, huh? No ideas for your substitute form of punishment?” The young sheriff walks around you like a shark circling its prey before the bloody, inevitable attack. “You’re in luck, sweetheart, because I’ve got just the perfect penance for ya.”

Before you could get out a word, he’s behind you and pulling you flush against his firm chest. You let out a soft squeak at the sudden sensation and move to bring your hand to your mouth to prevent any other embarrassing noises from spilling out. Gojo notices your timid movement and quickly wraps an arm around you.

“Nuh uh,” he says in a sing-song tone, “part of your punishment is letting me hear all those pretty little noises of yours, do you understand?”

You nod repeatedly in acknowledgement and remain stiff in his hold, unsure of how to react next. You weren’t entirely dumb. Were you dumb enough to help Toji commit a crime? Yes. But you weren’t so dumb that you didn’t understand what Gojo was hinting at with his little punishment “substitution”. The thought was both thrilling and nerve-wracking. If you had a stronger constitution, you might have just denied Gojo and accepted jail time instead. But, here you were, helpless in his arms and doing your damnedest to keep from embarrassing yourself any further.

Gojo runs his free hand from the top of your shoulder all the way down to your hips. “Such a soft, dainty thing, aren’t ya? Caught up in all of this and so, so desperate for a way out… It’s no wonder why Toji played with you like the toy you are…”

You shiver in his hold.

“You see, my eyes can be quite sensitive. But now that my blindfold is off…” he leans in closer and inhales against your neck, taking in your sweet scent that he could practically smell the nerves radiating from. “I’ve got a better view of this pretty, little toy. And I’m just dying to play with her.”

He removes the arm from around your waist and begins to unbutton your flannel at a leisurely pace that has you both shaking in your boots (quite literally) while also wishing he’d hurry up and just rip the shirt open completely.

“Never wanted Toji to…” you pause, embarrassed to finish your sentence.

Gojo continues to undress you and just hums against your neck while his long fingers continue their work. “Never wanted Toji to… what, sweetheart?”

You swallow, “Never wanted Toji to… to play with me.”

The young sheriff raises his eyebrows and sports his signature smirk, “Oh, is that so? Does that mean you want me to play with you?”

Clearing your throat, you nod once more, “I’m just trying to follow the law, sir.”

He laughs at that and finally pulls your shirt open and off your body, revealing your bra-clad chest. “Follow the law, huh? Is that what they call it nowadays?” He removes your shirt altogether and undoes the clasp of your bra with almost concerning expertise. “Well, better late than never, I suppose. Maybe you’ve learnt your lesson already… Although, I better punish you further to make sure you don’t forget- just in case.”

Once your torso is completely bare, Gojo spins you around and crashes his lips onto yours. You let out a gasp, and Gojo’s tongue uses the involuntary noise as an invitation to push into your awaiting mouth.

You’ve kissed your fair share of men before, though most were drunken kisses at saloons that you almost immediately regretted. Kissing Gojo was unlike anything you had ever experienced- practically everything about him was a foreign sensation, honestly. His lips alone had you feeling like you were vibrating, and the faint taste of strawberries on the tall man’s lips left you just as breathless as the kiss made you feel.

He brings his large hands to your hair and tugs against the strands, making you moan deeper into the kiss. His lips are hungry against yours, and he eats up each and every sound you make from the smallest of whimpers to the sudden gasps.

You reluctantly pull back for the kiss and look him in the eye, half-lidded and hazy already. “May I… touch you too?” you ask timidly. You’re hoping more than anything he’ll say yes since your fingers are itching to feel even more of him against your skin.

His lips turn upward slowly, and he removes his hands from your hair. You let out a whine at the loss of contact, but he quickly grabs your hands and brings them to his chest. “Look at you, all polite and obedient. Better late than never, huh?”

He pulls you back into a searing kiss and you move your hands freely along his toned body. He might as well be made of marble with how firm he feels beneath you. When you bring your hands to his hair and run your fingers along the nape of his neck, he groans and brings his hands down to cup your ass which elicits a whine from you.

He pulls away this time and before you have time to complain, your breath is taken away by the sight in front of you. He pulls open his shirt and quickly removes his belt. Once the belt is off his waist, he pulls it apart with both hands making a snapping noise. His gaze falls to your hands and you wordlessly offer them to the sheriff. He makes quick work binding your wrists with the fabric. “Just like the handcuffs I’ll save for Toji,” he grins and unbuttons his pants. “On your knees for me, honey.”

You fall to the floor, too hungry for him to worry about looking desperate. He chuckles at your reaction and pushes his pants and boxers down in one movement. His cock springs up and slaps his toned stomach.

Although your sexual experience was next to nothing, you knew that Gojo’s cock had to be the prettiest one in the world. You didn’t even need to see another man’s physique to make that conclusion. Hell, you were never the overtly sexual type, but Gojo’s cock basically had you drooling.

He laughs at your hungry expression. “See something ya like, sweetheart?”

You nod quickly at his question which draws another chuckle from him. “Well, don’t keep me waiting then. Open that mouth of yours and let’s see if it’s as good at sucking me off as it is at getting you out of trouble.”

You eagerly dive in and wrap your lips around the head of his cock.

Fuck. He tastes as good as he looks.

Moaning at the flavor on your tongue, you continue to suck on the tip as if it were your favorite candy. He groans at the sensation but breathes out, “I know you can do better than that, pretty girl. You don’t wanna end up in jail, do you?”

Your eyes widen at the statement, and you quickly take him deeper in your mouth. Bobbing your head quickly, you try to take as much of him in your mouth as you can. No matter how much you hollow your cheeks or hold your breath, you can’t manage to fit him all in your mouth.

How could you? He’s massive.

To say he’s bigger than any man you had ever been with before doesn’t do justice to how large his cock is. Even when you force him in your mouth to the best of your ability, you’re not even halfway down his length. Every now and then, you keep wanting to reach up and wrap your hands around him before you remember they’re restrained by his belt.

That doesn’t keep you from sucking as if your life depended on it- which it pretty much does.

Gojo pulls your hair back in a makeshift ponytail and pushes your head down deeper. “Come on, sweets. Take it allll the way.”

You choke around his cock and tears well up in your eyes. Gojo begins to fuck into your mouth and groans loudly, the sounds echoing throughout the empty house. You really wish Gojo would have taken off your pants before you began sucking him off since you feel the increasing discomfort of wetness between your legs confined by denim.

“Between you and me,” Gojo huffs between moans as he picks up his pace, “I’m glad that Toji didn’t get to see you like this. A dick like him doesn’t deserve a mouth like yours.”

Your eyes roll back at his comment. Desperate for some relief, you rub your thighs together and hope that the friction will alleviate some of the pressure. The young sheriff notices your movement and scoffs. “Didn’t your mama ever teach you some manners? Rubbing those thighs together like some common whore at the saloon?”

You let out a muffled whine at the comment. His words go straight to your cunt and only make you wetter than you already were. He laughs again as if he could sense the impact his words had on you.

The tears in your eyes begin to spill down your cheeks as the speed of his hips increases even more. “Is that tight little throat of yours ready, sweetheart?”

You try your best to nod despite his massive cock ramming into your open mouth. His breath quickens before he groans loudly and hot cum shoots down your throat. You can help but moan at the sensation too. Your jaw was sore, but the taste of him was definitely worth the discomfort.

“Ah, ah, ah,” Gojo tuts, “Don’t swallow just yet, pretty. Let me see that mouth I just filled.”

Looking up at him with wide eyes, you show him the contents of your mouth and frantically bring your fingers to your lips when some of his cum begins to dribble down your chin. Gojo chuckles at the sight and gently closes your mouth. “Go ahead and swallow every drop, sweetheart. You’ve earned it,” he smirks.

You greedily swallow the salty substance and even open your mouth again to show him you had done what he asked.

“You really are a good girl, aren’t you?” Gojo smiles. “But we’re not through with your punishment just yet, pretty. Up against the counter.”

You clumsily rise from the floor and stumble to the counter. Your eagerness makes the man laugh. Once against the hard surface, Gojo bends you over and reaches around to unbutton your pants. Your efforts to contain your excitement don’t go unnoticed by the sheriff as he catches you rubbing your thighs together once more which just makes his cock grow hard once more.

When he finally pushes down your pants and panties to the floor, he stares at your pussy for what feels like ages. Instinctively, you begin to close your thighs out of shyness. “Oh, no you don’t, sweetheart.” He firmly shoves your legs apart once more. “You’re gonna stay nice and still while I play with this pretty pussy. And if you wanna be a brat instead, then I’d be more than happy to give you this punishment down at the station. Would you and this soaking cunt like an audience?”

“No! No, I’m sorry,” you speak quickly, “I’m just not used to men…touching me there.”

Gojo quirks an eyebrow in confusion, “You mean that no man has ever done… this?” He runs a digit against your folds and you squeak at the feeling.

“Or… how about this?” Gojo licks a long stipe up your cunt that has you squealing involuntarily. You shake your head as heat rises to your cheeks. The sheriff hums at the revelation.

A pretty little slut like you hasn’t had her equally pretty pussy played with before?

It must be his lucky day.

“Guess you’re in for a treat then, darlin.” Gojo dives right in with his tongue, and you’re unable to conceal your loud moans even if you tried. The way he flicks his tongue against your clit has you practically seeing stars. None of your past sexual partners had ever taken the time to prioritize your pleasure. And after so many disappointing hookups, you ultimately gave up on sex altogether.

But this changed everything.

The way his tongue sucked and licked your sopping pussy was nothing short of magic. You had no idea you could even feel this good until now. Gojo’s tongue against your cunt made up for every underwhelming hookup you had ever had. And now that you know what it feels like, you’re hooked.

“Fuck,” you whine, “That feels so fucking good. Please don’t stop, sheriff.”

The man hums against your pussy and suddenly pushes a finger inside you. You cry out a wanton moan at the sensation and barely have time to adjust before he shoves another digit inside. The two fingers piston in and out of you at a rapid pace. Gojo pulls away from your pussy and you whimper at the loss.

“My, what a dirty mouth you’ve got,” Gojo teases. “Maybe I’ll have to fuck that mouth of yours again just to clean it.”

You instinctively tighten around his fingers over his comment and he emits a loud laugh. “Your cunt is so honest. You don’t even have to speak, because this pretty pussy talks for herself.”

He removes both fingers from you and instead uses them to rub your clit as he shoves his tongue back into your pussy once more. The coupled sensation of his fingers and his tongue has your eyes rolling back and your hands balling tightly into fists.

Finally snapping out of your daze and able to speak, you whine out, “I’m so close, Gojo. Please let me cum.”

Gojo pulls away for just a second to command, “Cum all over my tongue like the dirty whore I know you are.”

Your scream rings throughout the house as your climax crashes upon you. Your legs are shaking so badly that you almost collapse, and it feels as if electricity is in your veins with the buzz you feel.

Barely comprehensive, you whimper as Gojo removes his tongue and fingers. Although you can barely stand and would undoubtedly fall to the floor if he continued his attack on your pussy, you already missed the feeling more than you’d like to admit.

When you finally snap out of your orgasmic daze, you feel Gojo pressed against your backside.

Fuck.

If Gojo felt big in your mouth, he felt fucking gigantic against your pussy. It’d be like ramming a train through a keyhole. But even though you knew he’d fuck you within an inch of your life, you felt more arousal trickle down legs just at the thought of it.

He grabbed your hips firmly and lined up the head of his cock against your lips. Dragging his cock up and down your slit, he spread your arousal.

“Please no teasing,” you beg. “If I have to wait any longer, I’m gonna lose my mind.”

Gojo clicks his tongue, “If I weren’t just as eager to fuck this tight little pussy, I’d give you another punishment for being so damn bratty and impatient.”

Clenching his jaw, he slowly pushes the tip in and hisses at the feeling on your warm walls. You can’t help but gasp at the penetration. He’s only stuck the tip in, yet it feels huge.

After only a moment of keeping the tip within your heat, he all but shoves the rest of his cock inside your weeping pussy. Gojo leans over your back and groans in your ear and you all but scream at the intrusion.

Before you have time to catch your breath, Gojo begins jackhammering into your cunt at a brutal pace. Tears quickly form in your eyes and drool spills from your lips. He’s just began fucking you and you’re already cockdrunk.

“Jesus fucking christ,” He moans loudly. “How are you so fucking tight?”

You’re unable to form words as he pistons his hips. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the house, and you have no doubt that people would be able to hear you all the way from the end of the street. His grunts and groans harmonize with your moans and whimpers.

He uses one hand to gather your hair and pulls you against his chest. “This is supposed to be a punishment, but look at you,” Gojo grunts. “You’re loving this. You may look the part, but that good girl routine is all an act. Once a whore, always a whore.”

All you can do is whine at his words, unable to form words to respond with. Gojo laughs at the dumb look on your face.

“What’s that saying? “Don’t do the crime if you can’t do the time”. And, honey?” Gojo says between moans. “I’m gonna enjoy taking my time with you.”

Beyond what you thought possible, his thrusts increase in their intensity. He’s hitting spots you didn’t even know existed. To say you feel him in your guts doesn’t even come close to describing the sensation. All you know was that you had never felt so full in your entire life.

“Gojo!” you cry out after a particularly rough thrust.

The man smiles with a crazed look in his eye. “Oh? Pretty girl can talk now? I must not be fucking you hard enough then.”

He reaches his hand around your waist and begins furiously rubbing little circles on your clit which has you screaming at the top of your lungs. Your brain was fried at this point. All you could think about was Gojo, Gojo, Gojo…

In your fucked out haze, you tried to maintain your hold on the counter since your legs were going to give out any second now (and Gojo’s grip on your hair was the main source holding you up). The counter top beneath you was covered in your tears and drool, and your bound hands could hardly get a grip on the surface.

Gojo just continued his aggressive pace as he clenched your hair tightly in his hand. “The idea of Toji trying to get a piece of you just makes me sick,” He spits out. “As if a pathetic criminal like him deserves to feel this cunt.”

Even though nothing romantic or sexual ever transpired between you or Toji, Gojo practically saw red at the mere thought of the older man ever touching you. Though your paths hadn’t crossed officially until this point, Gojo can’t imagine any other man laying a hand on you. Insanely enough, he sped up the speed of his fingers in jealously over the hypothetical situation.

“G-Gojo, I can’t-” you attempted to string together words. “S’too much.”

He coos in mock sympathy, “Aw, baby can’t take it?”

You just whine in response, so out of your mind with how deep he is inside of you.

“Well, that’s too bad, sweetheart,” He grunts. “Because this lesson’s not over with just yet.”

Unable to keep your head up, you let it slump down as far as Gojo’s grip on your hair will allow. And just when you think (as much as you even can think with him pummeling his cock in and out of your pussy) the feeling couldn’t get any stronger, Gojo’s tip hits that one spot that has you seeing stars.

“Oh, my god! Fuck, Gojo!” you sob. “Fuck, fuck, I can’t take anymore! I’m gonna cum!”

He continues to ram against your G-spot over and over again until you’re sure your brain is melting. “Go ahead and cum all over cock. Be a good slut for me and show me that you’ve learnt your lesson.”

When the coil in your stomach breaks, you scream at the top of your lungs and squirt all over Gojo’s cock, soaking both of your jeans. You don’t even get a second to recollect the broken pieces of your brain because Gojo continues to fuck you like it’s his last day on Earth.

“Fuck, did you just soak my jeans, sweetheart?” He half laughs, half groans. Quickly approaching his climax too, he clenches his jaw and furrows his eyebrows. “I’m gonna fill you up, and you’ll tell me what you learnt from this punishment as my cum is dripping out of you.”

His words go in one ear and out the other. All his words sound like gibberish to you. You feel like you’re going to pass out if he continues at this rate.

Gojo swears and his hips stammer before he shoots ribbons of cum into your tight pussy. You swear you feel your stomach begin to bloat with the amount he gives you.

Your body goes limp against Gojo’s, and he holds you up before you collapse. You both whine when he pulls out, and he watches in awe as his cum trickles out of your messy cunt and runs down your shaking legs.

You’re still on cloud 9 (no, you’re on cloud 100 at this point), and to say your vision is blurry is an understatement. No amount of booze at the saloon could have you drunk like this.

“Gojo,” you practically slur.

Still out of breath, he manages to laugh at your thoroughly fucked out state, “I know, sweetheart, I know. Look at that cunt, all pretty and sloppy with my cum. Whatta sight for sore eyes…”

He turns you around to face him and holds on to your weakened form.

“Now,” he begins. “What did you learn from your punishment?”

He could have asked you for your own name and you wouldn’t know the answer. He might as well have filled your skull with cum the way not a single thought was swimming around in your brain.

“I…sorry…” you stutter in confusion. “And Toji…”

Gojo sighs condescendingly. Even though he asked the question, he knew you’d never be able to answer. That was the goal all along.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart… But that wasn’t the answer I was looking for,” Gojo sighs with a mocking pout to match yours. He pulls you closer and you snap out of your daze with widened eyes as you feel his hardened cock once more. “I guess I’ll just have to teach the lesson again.”

---

lmao uhhh yeah there we go if you made it this far thanks for reading <3

taglist: @browniebigga @ourfinalisation @idolingalong

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bitterkarella · 4 months ago

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Midnight Pals: The Monkey's Paw

WW Jacobs: Submitted for the approval of the Midnight Society, I call this the tale of the monkey's paw Jacobs: it's about a monkey paw that grants wishes King: sounds great! Jacobs: no it's not Jacobs: it's really bad actually

Jacobs: see, the thing is the monkey's paw grants wishes IRONICALLY Jacobs: like a real asshole genie or something

Jacobs: there's this british couple and they use it to wish for money, but then their son dies in a horrible industrial accident and they get the insurance money Jacobs: and then they wish he was still alive Jacobs: but he comes back all fucked up

Jacobs: so they use their last wish to wish he was dead again Koontz: why didn't they just wish that he was back just the same as when he was alive? Barker: yeeeah Barker: dean's got a point Barker: yeah why DIDN'T they?

Jacobs: that's not the way it works Jacobs: you can't just trick a monkey's paw King: i don't know, i think they're on to something King: it's really just a problem with not being specific enough, isn't it? King: like if you just worded it right Jacobs: THAT'S NOT HOW IT WORKS

Jacobs: you can't trick a monkey's paw! Barker: why not? i'm smarter than a monkey Poe: can we please stop talking about monkeys Barker: oh i forgot, edgar's afraid of monkeys Poe: I am NOT afraid of monkeys Barker: sorry, i meant apes Poe: I'm not afraid of apes either!!

King: you know what this reminds me of? my favorite cormoran strike book. have you guys read any cormoran strike? Barker: oh jesus here we go again Barker: i WISH something would free me from listening to this again! Elon Musk: [rising from bushes] eyyyy stephano king! Barker:

Musk: eyyyy stephano king mi amigo ey? King: we're not friends elon Musk: si si musk and king, we-a real bambinos ey! King: don't you have some kids to raise or something, elon? Musk: MY KID ISSA DEAD Musk: THATA MEANS YOU ALLA HAVE TO BE NICE TO ME

Musk: my kid issa dead Barker: that's not what i hear, she's roasting your ass on threads Musk: mama mia! Barker: and turns out she's really good at posting Barker: are you sure she's actually YOUR kid? King: she must take after her mother

Musk: mama mia they trick me into signing consent form for puberty blockers!!! Barker: how do they trick you into signing a consent form Musk: Barker: do you not have reading comprehension? Musk: they hide it in a big pile of ketamine! Musk: itsa no fair!

Musk: eyyy why my kid no like-a me? Barker: is it because you're an absentee father who turned twitter into a chud echo chamber specifically to bully her? Musk: Musk: no Musk: issa because da woke mind virus Musk: ima da smartest man inna da world!

Musk: why you no like me? issa cuz you all gotta da woke mind virus? Poe: elon calm down Barker: yes elon that's right, everything's the woke mind virus Poe: don't say that clive, you're going to get him riled up Musk: mama mia!!!

Musk: i never stop fighting da woke mind virus! Musk: ima da smartest man inna da world! [immediately smashes into the side of a cliff painted to look like a tunnel]

#midnight pals #the midnight society #midnight society #stephen king #clive barker #edgar allan poe #dean koontz #ww jacobs #elon musk

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grace-mint · 5 months ago

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A Fate Worse Than Death

Hardcore TW: Extreme Angst, SA, whipping, blood. It's rough y'all. Let me know if there's anything I forgot.

Also kinda shitty writing. This is my first fic, and idek if anyone will see this.

I rush into Rhysand’s office, slightly breathless. My mate sat at his desk in all his glory. He was the most beautiful male in the world, and if I wasn’t in a hurry, I would have taken the time to appreciate the spectacle of a being in front of me. Unfortunately I didn’t have that. “Rhys, the camps are getting worse, my father is back.” My father, the cruelest man I’ve ever met. He was a camp lord, but when Rhysand had placed the anticlipping laws into effect, he disappeared, along with multiple other Illyrian males who had the same beliefs as him: beliefs that females had no rights to their bodies. I had been on a mission, sent by Rhys, and I was in charge of protecting the females from these barbaric men. My father being one of them where I had an unfortunate run in with him Rhysand stood up from the desk, concern lacing his features, and grabbed my hands. “Breathe, my love. Tell me what you found out.”

I took a deep breath, clinging to my mate for stability. “He was there, and he was clipping a young girl’s wings. He left before I could kill the sorry bastard, but I was able to stop some of his men. They won’t be heard of ever again.”

Rhys’ face morphed into one of anger. “I’m sorry you had to see him,” he said softly, before asking about the girl. “And the young girl, is she ok?”

“I got there before any real damage could be done, and returned her to her mother, but she will be traumatized, understandably so.”

“How a man as wretched as him gave life to a creature as stunning and caring as you, I’ll never understand.” He placed a soft kiss on my forehead. “One day, I’m going to kill him, and I will make it slow and painful.”

I wrapped my arms around him. “I just don’t understand how a young girl’s life isn’t worth more to those men.” My brow furrowed. “It sickens me, it reminds me of how I grew up, and I swore I would never allow another female to feel pain at my father’s hands. I failed.” My mate’s head snapped up at my words, he gripped my chin, forcing me to look up at him. “You have never failed. You are the strongest female I’ve ever known, the strongest person I’ve ever known, “ he amended.”You are working so hard to fully enact this law. I wish I could help you more.”

I knew he couldn’t, still dealing with the after effects of the war against Hybern. He was in the process of rebuilding relations with the other courts, trying to create stronger alliances. “I know you can’t, and I don’t blame you. My father, let him be my problem.” My father and I had a terrible relationship. He was raised in one of the worse Illyrian camps, with even stricter beliefs. He believed in cutting a female's wings out entirely and that thought was so outlandish that even the most cruel of males didn’t believe in it. But my father was a different breed of asshole. He and my three older brothers made my life a living hell. After my mother passed, giving birth to me, he blamed me for her death. He thought that since my mother had a daughter, and not a son, I was a curse sent to ruin them, so from a young age, I was a toy for their amusement. A plaything to take their anger on. They beat me often, hiding me away from the world. When I reached maturity and started to bleed, they were prepared to cut my wings. They wanted to hang them on the wall as a reminder of the curse I was.

The day my father and brothers were planning to enact their plan, I woke up early and ran for it. I knew I wouldn't make it far, but I was hoping and praying to the cauldron that someone would take pity on me. That was the fortunate day Rhysand, Cassian, and Azriel were visiting our camp. As I ran, my eldest brother, Treyvis, was gaining on me. He tackled me to the ground, binding my arms and slamming my face into the ground. That was when Rhysand found me, the bond clicking in his chest when he saw me, though he didn’t mention it for years later. They stopped what was happening, not before giving my brother a warning in the form of a beating, and took me back to Velaris. That was about 100 years ago. Rhysand and I have been mated for 95 of those years now. We have been through plenty of ups and downs, but the bond remained strong and stable, even when we were both stuck under the mountain. I had never known a love like this.

“Give me the word, and he’ll be no one’s problem. I’ll kill that bastard in a second with great joy.” Rhysand unwound his arms from my waist, pressing a kiss to my temple once more, and made his way back over to his desk. I steeled myself, preparing to ask his blessing for another mission. We both agreed when we were mated, we don’t ask permission, rather each other’s blessing. “Rhys, I want to go after him, to end this. To take down the little cult he has accumulated. He’s been off the map for years and seeing him today hurting that young girl, I want him dead, and I want to be the one to do it.”

Rhysand, the one person who knew me better than anyone in the world, knew this about me. While I may have never vocalized it, this was what I wanted. He motioned for me to come closer, and so I perched myself on his lap, winding my arms around his neck.

“You are my brave, beautiful mate. You can handle anything, I know you can do this. It makes me scared to send you alone, but I know if I ask you to take Cas or Az you will refuse.” He was right about that, I wanted to do this alone, especially if something bad were to happen. “But I know you can take care of yourself. You've spent many years training, yet I can’t shake this feeling that something bad will happen. I know you can handle your own, I just get terrified at the thought of something happening to you.”

My heart ached at his words. I press a tender kiss to his lips. “I will always find my way home to you, to our friends, to Velaris. And when I come back, I will be free of the fear and the strife of that man.”

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

I should’ve listened to Rhys. I should have brought Cassian or Azriel with me. I cursed myself as I hung there, my arms bound in faebane shackles, with my father pacing in front of me. “Fuck you.” I spat at him. If I was gonna die, I might as well die with the satisfaction of pissing him off. I reached down the bond again, not being able to reach it still, due to the faebane I was dosed with.

I pissed him off a little too well it would seem though. He walked up to me, chuckling. “Oh my dear y/n, how idiotic you are. You hide away with your little whore of a mate, thinking you are safe, yet you’ll never be.” His words send a shiver down my spine, anger flaring at the term he used for my mate.

“I hope you burn in hell.”

“Now now, dear y/n, I would shut up before you anger me even more.” As he speaks, he brings his knife down my arms, slicing a long line from my shoulder to my elbow, then he repeats this on my other arm. I show no pain though, not willing to show this man any vulnerability. He takes the knife, now slicing my legs in a similar fashion. I hadn’t even noticed my leathers were gone when I had woken. I shivered at the thought of someone undressing me.

“I’ll give you a chance to beg, it won’t do much, but it might make me be a little kinder.”

I know he’s lying, so I say, “When he finds you, you will feel such pain, he will do worse things than killing you, as that will be a mercy.”

He smiles sadistically, “ What I do to you, will be more merciless than anything your mate will do to me.” He spat the words at me as he made his way behind me. I hear the unmistakable slither of a whip. I look up to see my brother, Treyvis, walking in, whip in hand. I seethe at the bastard. He merely sends me a sickly sweet smile.

“Do your worst, I don’t care,” the words came out nonchalantly despite the panic raging in my chest. I didn’t flinch as the first lash came down. The second one, had my body jerking forward as I realized what he was aiming for. He was aiming for my wings. Panic seized my body, uncontrollably as my inane instincts to protect my wings kicked in and they folded up. Hands seized my wings, stretching them out to full length. I looked up to see my two other brothers had shown up and were the ones in charge of holding my wings open. I started to struggle, realizing the dire situation I was truly in. The whip rained down on my back and wings, lash after lash, until the skin was completely flayed. It still didn’t stop though. I hung, my whole body weight being held up by the shackles digging into my skin.

“Stop. Please,” my voice, hoarse from screaming, rasped. I didn’t want to beg, but my wings were never going to heal from this. My pleas fell on deaf ears.

Minutes, maybe hours later, the pain stopped. It took me a second to realize the whip stopped. I hung there, my head bowing having no strength to lift it. I was finally released from the shackle, and I fell forward, face slamming painfully into a pool of my own blood on the ground. I was yanked up by my hair, neck tilted to the side. I felt a needle being stabbed into the side of my neck, dosing me with more faebane. I fell forward, once more, after being released. I raised my head barely enough to see four pairs of feet exiting the cell I was in. It wasn’t long after until I fell unconscious.

Hours, or maybe even days later, I woke up. I had no concept of time anymore, darkness all around me. My wounds had clotted well enough, despite the dose of faebane, I was still able to heal somewhat, although not well enough to even stand. I lay there, chest down, on the ground and ran through my memories to keep me sane.

Rhysand and I days after he rescued me. Our first Starfall. When the mating bond finally snapped for me. Our frenzy, that lasted weeks. I missed Rhysand so dearly, regretting ever leaving his lap that day. I lay there for what feels like an eternity, slowly drifting in and out of sleep. I woke up to harsh hands grabbing me once more. My hands were forced into the shackles, and I mentally prepared myself for what was to come, promising myself to keep my mouth shut, not giving them the satisfaction of vocalizing the pain they were causing me.

I immediately broke that promise as soon as I felt one wing lifted up and the cool steel of a blade against it. I let out a yelp, both at the surprise of the action and the pain of them touching my wing. I felt my fathers voice in my ear, sending the millionth shiver down my spine, as he said, “You are a whore who defiled herself to another whore. I’ve been waiting to get my hands on these for quite some time.” Shameful tears began to pour down my cheeks as I realized what was to come. “Don’t worry, y/n, I’ll return you to your High Lord, but he won’t want you barren of wings. He also won’t want spoiled goods.” I stiffened at his words as male walked in, presumably one of his guards. “He wants to have his way with you while we’re here.” My blood turned to ice at his words. Fear sparking in my soul, more fear than I’ve felt these past few days. At the first hack of the knife against the root of my wing, I let out the most pathetic yelp in the world. The pain was unbearable. The hacking kept going as the male approached me. He put his hands on me, tearing my shirt and pants off. He ran his hands over my body as the pain in my back flared on. I wanted to throw up as his hands touched me. I wanted to die right then and there. I did throw up at the thud of one of my wings hitting the ground. The male in front of me cursed and backhanded me across my face. I was weeping at this point, weeping at the loss of my wings, the loss of control over my body as this man reached lower and lower stopping between my legs. Lastly, I weeped for Rhysand to come save me. I knew he wouldn’t, that he couldn’t.I hadn’t been checking in with him through the bond, but it was too late for him to find me anyway, as my second wing traded to the ground and the male in front of me, now naked and readying himself, spread my legs, and took the most vulnerable thing I had to offer. I hung there, numb, as he entered my body, the feeling wrong and disgusting. I had stopped crying long ago, finding no will in me to want to go on.

The male finished, leaving me naked, cold, and devoid of wings. I wanted to die, I wanted to die and never come back. I never wanted to face Rhysand again,or any of my friends. I wished they would’ve just killed me.

Finally, my father walked back in again. “Pitiful y/n. Pathetic bitch.” He gripped my chin, forcing me to look at him. “You should have never left all those years ago, and now you’ve paid your price. I’m going to take you home.” He saw the fear in my eyes at his words. “Oh? Don’t want to go home to your husband? I don’t blame you, who would want you, after you let yourself be defiled and you were too weak to protect your wings.”

If looks could kill, this man would have dropped dead.

“Well, let’s go.” He unshackled me. I looked up at him in confusion.

“You’re letting me go?” I couldn’t even recognize my voice. “Why?”

“I’m condemning you to a fate worse than death. You have to face your family, and they’ll all have to see that you let yourself get taken by another man. How will they react? I’m sure they’ll be disgusted.” My father grabbed my bruised arm, I hardly winced in pain, too focused on his words as they raced around in my brain. Surely Rhysand would still love me. But I had insisted on going on this mission, who could blame him if he didn't.

My father threw me a slip that hardly hid anything, and I quickly put it on before he tossed me over his shoulder and walked me out of the cell. I could’ve thrown again up at the sight of my wings, limp and lifeless, lying on the floor, never to take flight again. I didn’t have time to dwell on it as a blinding light hit my eyes. We were outside. I was thrown unceremoniously to the snow-covered ground. I shivered and curled into myself, hoping to achieve a bit of warmth. I didn’t bother looking up to see where my father had gone, I laid there instead. Ready to face my death.

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

“Y/N!! Oh fuck. Darling, wake up.” I felt a warm, gentle hand on my shoulder, rousing me from my sleep. I wanted to sleep, it was so nice and warm. A nice reprieve from the pain I had in my back for some reason. I hummed in annoyance, wanting the voice to go away. I was shivering though, my bed was extremely cold. It was then that all of the memories came flooding back, and I wrenched my eyes open with extreme effort. I attempted to sit up, but my back seized at the motion. I couldn’t move, I was paralyzed in pain.

“Be careful, don’t move. It’s ok. Stay still, please.” I recognized that voice, and I looked up to the most wonderful sight I had ever seen.

“Rhys?” My voice was still raspy from the screaming. “Yes, it’s me. Stay still, Az and Cas are coming.” I felt the warmth of a coat over my shivering body, as Rhysand wrapped me in his coat, careful to avoid the bloody mess that was my back. “Stay awake.” His voice filled with panic as I drifted off again with the warmth of his embrace. I didn’t want to stay awake. This was nice, I wanted to sleep.

“Y/n, my heart, you have to stay awake.” His voice shook as he pleaded with me. I could barely hear him as I slipped further and further and further into the void, the only sounds being Rhys’ cries and begging me not to go sounded like a lullaby to me as I welcomed unconsciousness with open arms.

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If you made it this far, let me know! Gentle critiquing is welcome and appreciated.

#rhysand x reader #acotar #rhysand angst #azriel x reader #acotar fandom #a court of thorns and roses #cassian x reader #angst #Rhysand

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cevans-is-classic · 4 months ago

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18+ Only. Warnings: Semi-sexual content, language, reference to violence.

My very first Homelander fic! If you'd like to read more of my stuff, read on.

Masterlist One

Masterlist Two

Masterlist Three

Part Two: Listen To Me

He’s frustrated

He clenches his fists until the seams feel tight — ready to burst.

Every word that comes out of Deep’s mouth brings him closer to burning right through his stomach.

This should have been over.

All of it.

Everyone should be on their fucking knees for him. This whole goddamn place belongs to him — he is in charge.

Something twists into his chest, a swelling feeling choking him. His lungs felt tight, straining with every slow breath he tried to take. They’re going to pop. His lungs are going to explode. Way to discover how he can die, don’t ya think?

The Great Homelander — killed by his fucking lungs.

“- I don’t think that. I know it.” Sage’s voice dragged him out of his head. At least as out of his head as he can get.

“Homelander-”

“Shut up. Shut the fuck up!” He hisses between clenched teeth. He felt small and cold, wishing he had someone to hang on to.

Which frustrated him more — and left him feeling wrong inside.

He shouldn’t want to hang on to anyone. He’s the world’s greatest Superhero. There is nothing he can’t do, nowhere he can’t go yet now everything is Up in flames.

He needs to focus on the fire and watch the smoke choke out the weak-minded assholes.

“This is over. Done.” Everyone looks at him. He hears Ashley’s heart beat faster, skipping when his eyes turn to hers. Sweat Collects at her temple, dripping from her God-awful wig.

Burn it off.

He could.

Laser her from the fake roots and down. He’d love to watch her face melt around the heat, brain matter leaking onto the floor. That might make him feel better.

On a spin, he turns away from them. His quick steps are loud in the large room. He leaves, not bothering to close the door behind him.

The council room falls away behind him. Each step slaps against the floor. Each step, every push from his heel to the balls of his feet drags heavier, weighing down the urge to fly.

Voices murmur through the Walls, his eyes catching employees huddled around desks and one coupling in a closet.

He stops at his door.

Home.

What’s fucking home? The place that tortured him, that created him where he realized he wasn’t real; that John wasn’t real.

This should be his home. Right here. It holds his bed, his clothes, and his secret stuffed animal.

It should be Ryan’s home, too.

If Ryan is there.

His son, who would rather run to Butcher — a fucking piece of shit — than be with his father.

Home?

Who the fuck knows what that is?

A light flickers in the back of his mind, the reminder of fingers in his air and a crooning voice on the radio.

His frustration flares in his chest. He’s trying to remember the address — the memory hazy, lost in the clouds.

Should he change his clothes?

A red shirt with a navy blue jacket, jeans that squeezed his crotch, and a baseball hat.

Home.

The door still had your stupid sign hanging from the same hook. It is a piece of wood painted black with blood splatter words announcing a ‘haunting’ inside. He stared at it for an hour the first time he stood at your doorstep. He ordered you to get rid of it.

You snorted and rolled your eyes.

The doorbell is broken, no sound signaling it’s gone off no matter how many times he pushed it.

Homelander knocks after he breaks the glowing button.

Grinding his teeth, he impatiently raps his knuckles against the wood.

He hears movement.

Homelander knocks harder.

He squirms where he stands, shifting from foot to foot. A tingle of anxiety trickles down his chest.

“Dammit, where are — oh.” that’s what he came for.

Your voice.

His raps went faster. One, two, three until a line cracks the wood when he brings his fist down. That stops him, and the shuffling he hears behind the door.

“Alright,” it swings open, “Fucking hell, dude.”

The smell of weed rolled from the house, clogging his nose.

You pause, looking up at him. Your eyes are red, drooping as your head tilts to the side, eyebrows raised into your hairline. It’s been months, maybe a year, since he’s been here. It was before the shit show that was Soldier Boy; he remembers that.

Your hair is different.

“Fancy seeing you here.” You leaned against the door, propping it with your foot and resting your temple against it. You play with your hair, wrapping it around a finger before tugging and letting go.

“Yes.” He steps forehead. Your other hand coming up to take a drag keeps him still.

The smoke puffs in his face when you release it.

“Come on,” You don’t wait for him to follow, turning around and walking back into the house, “You’re always welcome here.”

Every sentence you say has an edge—something that makes his skin itch. He wants you to talk to him with respect. He should punish you for the attitude and sarcasm and keep you from ever speaking again.

He’s the Homelander. Who are you to treat him this way?

The living room is unfamiliar. The couches are new and the set up rearranged. There are blankets and pillows scattered around the room. One deep red one hanging over the back, three pillows nestled into the edges of the couch. Another blanket, a soft black, hangs on the arm.

A group of pillows rests on the floor, stuffed animals tucked into between them. There’s an open spot in the middle made for sitting.

Tossed over the coffee table is another blanket.

This one is familiar.

Another red blanket that Homelander knows feels amazing on his skin.

“What can I do for you, John?”

He never hears that name.

Except, he heard it from the doctors. From the ones who watched him from behind glass, who pressed buttons and laughed at his pain.

Doctors he left to rot in the bad room.

You’d settled on the couch, feet curled beneath you. His eyes track your shorts as they curl up, showing the edge of your underwear.

His mouth dries.

“I-” You move, dropping one leg to the floor and stretching the other leg out.

He aches to crawl into the space and curl up, let you stroke his hair, and call him your good boy.

“Come here.” That drags a gasp from him, his feet moving without thought.

The couch is deep and warm, and his knees sink into the cushions. You spread your legs more, bending your knee to cradle his back.

“I saw you on TV.” There it is.

The voice he needs.

He’ll swear he sees the magic swirl in the air when your words leave your mouth. It tickles his ears and dives into him to wiggle into place around his brain. It grounds him

One sentence has his mind slowing down. The ever-spinning thoughts froze for the first time in a long time.

“Yeah?” He tucked his feet into the crease of the couch.

“Hey, shoes off, Mister.” You popped the side of his head.

He toes them off.

“You were in a commercial. I didn’t quite pay attention. I focused on you only. You did an amazing job, and your smile was breathtaking. You know what, though?” The hand you slid into his hair stopped. A sharp tug pulled his head back.

Oh no.

“What?”

“You’re selfish.”

Homelander whimper.

He is inherently selfish.

A selfish man who takes and takes and takes.

They raised him, no they created him to do. Take the pain, endure the hunger, sit the silent nights with nothing but his thoughts.

Your fingers move from his hair down his neck, over his shoulders to rest on his arm. He focused on the heat from your hand, the weight of it. It holds him down and makes his stomach loosen.

He presses closer to you.

You smell the same. Musky, heady, acidic. It’s uniquely you, a smell he could pick out anywhere.

He thinks of burying his face between your legs. To lick the taste until it coats his mouth and stains his teeth.

It’s his favorite.

“You always want things. Always need more.” The drop of your voice made his back straighten. “Did you come to me to be selfish, John?”

Did he?

He did.

He wants to stop being Homelander. He wants to be — he wants—to be John.

John is a real person

Homelander is not.

Homelander is a god.

“Yes.” Always answer honestly, John, “I did.”

You hum, repeating the stroking pattern. His hair, his neck, his shoulder, and starts again.

He hones in on the movement — how he turns into butter in your hands.

Your voice washes over him, rolling him on the waves to drag him down. It’s warm, flowing into his chest, heated, liquid fire that wraps around.

“Look how sweet you are.” That rocks him, spinning his mind. It mixes with his blood. The flames cause sparks to tingle his fingers, making his knees weak. His toes curl, pressing deeper into the couch.

You’re whispering over him, hand following the same path repeatedly. It makes his stomach warm, kindling the fire in his lungs. He slows his breathing, feeling his heartbeat calm.

There’s still a rocking feeling in his head. It sways him back and forth and makes his eyes water.

He feels safe.

Your hand pauses, and he whines, pitiful, a pitched noise that grates his ears. When your leg moves, he turns around, sliding his hand beneath your body to wrap around you. His other arm curled up, tucking under his chin to rest his weight on you.

You chuckle, “Baby boy.”

Your leg moves again, sliding between his. Your knees press into his thighs.

Homelander folds his leg at the knee. He nestles into your chest, his nose sliding along your neck. When your hand moves to his knee, fingers loosely holding his leg.

He can feel your pulse, the rush of your blood. You breathe beneath him.

In and out.

It’s your source of living and powers your ability to whisper in other ears to make them feel.

He wonders what you’d sound like choking to death.

It’d be easy for him to slide his hand up, dig his fingers into your throat, and watch your eyes bulge; veins bursting, tears streaming down your face. You wouldn’t be able to control him then. He’d never grapple with the fact he let you control him.

The only person he gives himself to.

He hates you.

He’s lying

You kiss his forehead, a press of your lips. His heart skipped, stomach flipping. It is rare for you to kiss him. To feel your lips against him, moving with him. He’s seldom allowed to lick your words from your mouth.

He has to earn kisses.

His core heats, sending flames down his thighs. He bites back a groan but presses himself closer to your leg. You hum again, a lower noise, letting out a sigh that dampens his hairline.

The groan he let out was impossible to fight.

He wants to take your breath away, suck the air from your lungs. You should only breathe for him, into him. You belong to him.

“Want to tell me why you’re upset, Baby boy?”

Yes.

He shakes his head.

“John,” your voice is sharp, sticking, icy, dripping into his ears, “What have I told you?”

He flinches. “Liars are bad boys.”

“Exactly. Now, do you want to talk about it?”

The ice floods his veins. “Everything is going wrong. It’s all falling apart and I’m losing control. Every step I take is wrong, crumbling the fucking world around me. Sage is a bitch. Deep is a useless fucking idiot. I found out A-train is fucking us over. The only thing that resembles a good thing is when the ridiculous Firecracker woman revealed she’s lactating.”

He catches his breath and opens his mouth, but stops and whines into his arm.

You gently shush him.

“Tell me about that.” Your nails scratch his ear, squeezing his lobes with a soft tug. “Did you feed from her? Suck her dry? I bet you latched on quicker than a newborn and suckled until there was nothing left. I bet,” Your voice changed, turning softer, “She murmured sweet nothing at you and cradled you. Praise you.”

Every word has his head spinning. The memory of being wrapped in Firecracker’s arms flickered to life. He could feel her nipple between his teeth, the way she rocked him back and forth. He drank for what felt like a lifetime.

Craves more.

“Answer me, John.”

He notches his hips and rocks them against your leg until you’re pinching his ear and moving out of the way. He whimpers, lips trembling, his cock aching and heavy between his legs. His hips jerk forward again, searching for your leg, for the cushion, anything to give him friction.

“Selfish boys don’t deserve to be hard.” The ice returns. It freezes him, numbing his fingers. His eyes burn, tears threatening to fall.

He wants the warmth back.

“Yes. Yes. I was selfish. I took until there was nothing left and have every night since. I’m sorry. I’m selfish.” He curls in on himself, tucking his legs as close to his body as he can.

“Oh Baby boy,” It comes out smooth like silk. It drapes across his body.

He rocks back with a moan.

“I’m not angry, John.” It spread along him, reaching for his hands and tucking around his body.

It’s almost drowning him.

“You’re not?” His voice is small. His mind slowed, the thoughts scattered around like blocks knocked over sliding into a box.

He thinks of sitting in the middle of his floor, legs crossed, looking out his window, and thinking of grass beneath his feet. It reminds him of the times they’d bring him outside. The rare times they allowed him to run as fast and as far as he could. The first time he flew, flying higher and higher until he swore he’d break the sky. Such few memories make him happy.

The memories he has, the ones that spin in his mind? They’re tinged gray, dark, painted in shadows. They’re all a time in his life when he realized they made him to be a tool for someone else.

He remembers a time before he was The Homelander, Vought’s golden boy: the most powerful superhero.

“No, Baby Boy. You sought pleasure. Why would I ever be angry about that? I want you to tell me the truth, Sweetheart. Good boys don’t tell lies, do they?”

“No.” You laugh and it sinks into him until he lets go and floats.

You’re the only thing he can feel, smell, hear, hell, even taste. Your arms are his haven. Your voice is his drug, A secret addiction.

This is his escape and he’ll return to it anytime he wants. Anytime he needs it.

It’s why he keeps you safe.

Keeps you away from everyone.

I mean, he thinks, that’s what I’m supposed to do, right? Save the fucking people.

“How are you feeling?”

“Warm.” It slurred, slipping off his tongue with ease. He tastes the sweet flavor of a milkshake on his tongue.

You chuckle again, moving your leg back down for him to rest against. He waits for his cock to ache again, to thrust forward and fuck against you

That urge is gone.

He wants to fall asleep and listen to you murmur above him. Would you sing to him? Something he doesn’t know, but every word makes sense because it’s coming from you.

“Will you sing to me?”

“Of course.” Your chest rumbles, his eyes growing heavy.

He listens to the words, rolling off your tongue to drape over him. He settles into it, sinking deeper and deeper until he’s cacooned. Your singing dragging him beneath the surface to float away.

#the homelander #homelander x reader #homelander x you #homelander fanfiction #the boys #the boys amazon

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krizariel · 6 months ago

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Stripper jason dating CEO Timmy :X

Big thank you to @galkyrie for indulging my midnight jaytim brainworms, helping me make sense of them and adding more to it. This is basically me putting together our convo, so not much of a fic.

FYI, for those who care about this: This AU ended up being switch because we can't help ourselves hence why I tagged both jaytim and timjay. Generally my AUs are more vague on that regard but on this one there's mention of both dynamics so figured, fair warning on this one.

They met at a small party thrown by Dickie and Kory (dating or married idk, whatever fits your fancy) for Dickie’s birthday. Tim is like a little brother to Dick and by extension, to Kory. Jay is close friends with Roy and Kory.

Somehow Tim and Jay had never crossed paths before; with Tim taking over higher responsibilities at the company because his father is ready to retire and leave it all up to him - he is proud of his son and despite whatever Tim says, Jack knows his son is more than ready - Tim has been busy and barely had time to socialize and well, have a life out of work.

They start talking, they hit it off pretty well. Somehow what they do for a living didn’t come up in their conversation because they were too busy talking about their hobbies, Star Trek, AngBang (Sauron has a ship and Jason couldn’t stop talking about it) and whether or not smore’s count as dinner.

They exchanged numbers but Tim never got to call him again until one night he saw him performing at the club. It was Tim’s birthday and as a surprise, his friend dragged him to a popular stripclub. Roy worked as a bartender there so he’d slip them free drinks every now and then.

When the show started, the room went crazy. Apparently, Jason was very popular and indeed, he was amazing. At some point Jason actually noticed him and even waved at him while he was spinning on the pole.

Steph: I’m sorry… did Mr. Beefcake actually waved at you!?

Tim: Looks like it

Steph: YOU KNOW HIM?

Tim: Well, remember that guy I told you about that I kinda liked, mayyyybe had a little crush on?...

Steph: YOUR CRUSH IS A STRIPPER?

Tim: I DIDN’T KNOW THAT PART!

Tim was a bit embarrassed and figured it was probably for the best that he never called him to ask him out, as he saw Jay work and all his audience ogling over him… he didn't know how he felt about dating a stripper. Plus, who knows if he’d even be interested… he must have many people behind him and flirting and looking like a sin incarnate is part of his job.

They met again out of work but Jay didn't even want to talk to him again because he figured Tim was just another uptight asshole who just judged Jay for his job so he didn't call him again and avoided him. Tim felt like a real asshole and figured it didn't harm to be friends... Jay was really cool and Tim enjoyed his time with him. Tim apologized for how he came through at the beginning.

Since then, they became friends, sometimes they would text or meet for coffee. It’s not dating - he tells himself- and every time he’d make a stop by the stripclub to grab a drink, hang out with Roy and Kory at the bar, ~~maybe catch a glimpse of Jay as he danced, flirted and got flirted back~~ he was always reminded of it.

Sometimes he’d get a lapdance himself. What’s the harm…nothing is gonna happen anyway. But oddly enough they’d mostly talk about their day. Tim would be the kind of guy that would sit on his hands to not touch and Jason found it really cute. He enjoyed teasing the little guy.

Other times, Tim pays for a private room/dance to give Jay an hour break from being on the floor, because he notices he is tired. Jason was surprised at first because he thought Tim was finally pulling moves on him but nope, instead he wants nothing but to give him a break and spend time with him, pulling his laptop to watch Star Trek since Jason hadn’t watched it and was interested. Jason just kept falling and falling for Tim’s little gestures. He knew Tim found him attractive, it was obvious, but he was always the proper guy, never making any advances, just making Jason feel cared… which WAS WORSE! because he was starting to imagine it was Tim instead of those men or women who’d he’d dance for. Jay just wanted Tim to fucking snap and fuck him senseless in that stupid couch from the private room. Meanwhile, Tim was starting to finally stop being in denial and was working out the courage to ask Jay on a date because he knows he caught feelings hard.

The next time Tim paid for a private dance, Jay was having none of it. He was going to put on a show and was determined to make Tim snap.

Jason, rolling his hips so his abs are almost brushing Tim's face: who'd think a CEO would be so timid … (Art here )

All the while Tim’s hands are hovering over his skin and not yet touching. Jason's kind of expecting him to get aggressive, or super eager, once he does touch him, but Tim's almost reverent when his fingertips brush along his outer thighs. Tim really -really- wanted to ask Jason out first but he is just about to lose it. And he does, eventually, snap and fuck Jason senseless on the couch. While they are cuddling Tim finally tells him he has been meaning to work up the courage to ask him out... Tim just tells him he wants to date him for real, he deserves to be dined and wined and maybe they are doing all this out of order… and Jason doesn't know how to respond because how is this man so damn cute and yet so savage. Jason asks him if he is sure… he doesn’t want this to be a on-time thing but he’d understand. Most of his previous lovers have ended quickly because they tried to pull the “savior” card, couldn’t get past what he does for a living and he doesn’t have plans to change this for anyone. But Tim is sure, he thought about what this means and he really wants to try if Jay will have him. Tim brings Jason flowers when he picks him up for the date and opens his car door for him. Just total romantic shit that Jason should be too jaded to fall for, but...it's Tim.

So it works on him, because he's already gone on Tim.

By the fourth course Jason's already daydreaming about peeling Tim out of his fancy suit and having his way with him on whatever stupid fancy couch he has at his penthouse. When they get back to Tim's place and Jason eases himself onto the couch and pats his lap like: I think it's your turn to be the one in my lap Tim: hope I don't need to dance because let me tell you already, I suck. But Jay walks him through it, gives him directions and suddenly Tim is taking orders. He finds he likes giving away control if its Jay.

For a while they were dating secretly but it was just because Tim didn't want the inevitable attention on their relationship and wanted to have privacy for them to develop their relationship first. He respected Jay’s job, he did it because he liked it and he was certainly amazing at it - but then Tim realized Jay might not be ok with Tim always introducing him as a friend even among their close friends because he thinks Tim is ashamed so he took Jay as his date to a Wayne gala. And of course people around Tim take it as a license to badmouth Jay and mock Tim by insinuating they had seen all there is to Jay (since some of them apparently went to the strip club Jay worked at). Jay was actually very charmed with Tim because unlike other boyfriends he’s had, Tim didn’t try to make him quit his job. Truly it took a lot from Tim at the beginning to get used to Jay dancing and everyone ogling over him… sometimes some men or women would recognize him while they were on a date and talk so amicably with him essentially ignoring Tim’s presence…but Tim focused on the fact that only Tim got to see how Jay sang while he cooked; how he genuinely laughed like a dork; how he screamed Tim’s name when he reached climax, how he slept like a starfish, etc, and slowly found he loved that more than any jealousy or insecurity he could feel.

and if you missed it, timjay art here

#jaytim #timjay #jason todd #tim drake #not fic

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bloody-bee-tea · 1 month ago

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Beetober 2024 Day 15 - Knock knock

Katsuki checks his phone for the hundredth time that day, but there's still no new notification. Shinsou still hasn't even read his damn messages and it's unusual enough that worry curls in Katsuki's stomach. Shinsou is glued to his phone when he's not on a mission and his replies are almost always instantly, so the fact that he hasn't heard from him at all is worrying Katsuki more than he'd like to admit.

Even if Shinsou had to leave for a mission—which, unlikely on this short notice—he'd have found a way to inform Bakugo about it, because he always does.

But Shinsou hasn't read his messages, hasn't replied and he didn't open his door either.

Katsuki tries not to worry too much, because it's not as if they made plans for today and considering that it's his birthday he could just be out. Doing things. With other people.

People like his parents, for example, Katsuki thinks and decides that he'd rather face Aizawa and Yamada than worry for a single second longer about Shinsou, so he makes his way over to the apartment of his former teachers.

He shuffles on his feet as he waits for them to open the door and he does not cower under Aizawa's glare when he finally does.

"Where is he?" Katsuki demands to know when Aizawa simply raises a questioning eyebrow at him and Katsuki simply shoulders past him into the apartment.

He's been here more times than he really likes to think about, considering that this is the apartment of his former teachers, but it's where Shinsou lived for the longest time until he got his own apartment and Katsuki was not about to be cowed by some adults.

So he knows his way around and he knows that he's always welcome, anyway. Yamada had said so.

"Hello to you, too, Bakugo," Aizawa almost lazily says, following Katsuki into the living room that is suspiciously Shinsou-free.

"Where's zombie face?" Katsuki demands to know, questioningly inclining his head towards his room, but Aizawa shakes his head, just as Yamada appears in the doorway.

"How dare you?" he asks with an outraged gasp, clutching at his chest for good measure too and Katsuki can already feel the headache coming on.

"What?" he bites out and Yamada seems close to tears now.

Good thing Katsuki knows that it's mostly just for play because Yamada is one dramatic asshole, but tears have always made Katsuki uncomfortable, no matter if they are real or not.

"How dare you call my son that? I demand more respect!"

"Right," Aizawa snorts out behind Katsuki, saving him from having to come up with a reply that is at least a little bit respectful. "Because you're being such a good role model."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Yamada demands to know and Katsuki stays very quiet, hoping they just forget about him until their banter is over.

"It means that you're one to speak. May I remind you that you call me 'your little hobo man' all the goddamn time? So you're in no position to complain about how Bakugo calls Hitoshi at all."

At that, Yamada splutters and Katsuki tightens his grip on the container he's carrying around with him.

"Excuse you? That's a fond little nickname I have for you, because I love you so!"

"So it's just the same. Loud, aggressive blondes with a knack for atrocious nicknames is clearly the way to go in this family. Like father, like son, really, it's sad. I thought I taught him better," Aizawa sighs out and now Katsuki can feel himself going red in the face.

"Oi!" he yells out, because it's not—they are not like Aizawa and Yamada, who have been disgustingly in love the entire time and married for more years than Katsuki cares to remember.

Shinsou and Katsuki are nothing like that because they are not even together to begin with.

Yamada and Aizawa both turn to look at him now and it only makes Katsuki flush harder.

"It's not like that," he grumbles out because it fucking isn't but neither of the men seem to believe him.

"Sure it's not. That's why you're here with what looks like a homemade cake," Yamada finally relents and his words just make everything worse.

"Shut it," he snaps. "Where is he?"

"Not here," Aizawa tells him.

"But it's his birthday," Katsuki says, confused now because if Shinsou isn't here and he isn't at home and none of their friends know anything then he's effectively missing.

"Hitoshi doesn't do birthdays," Aizawa sighs out and Katsuki watches how Yamada's face turns all sad.

"Sometimes I forget that you two haven't been—whatever you are for that long," Yamada gently says. "It's the first birthday you're doing with him, right?"

"And what if it fucking is?" Katsuki wants to know, because it certainly feels like a lot longer to Bakugo, but it only makes Aizawa roll his eyes at him.

"It just means that you don't know and of course Hitoshi wouldn't have said anything."

"Don't know what? Would it fucking kill you to give me a straight answer for once?" Katsuki can feel his control slipping because he's just so fucking on edge and he doesn't like the way Aizawa and Yamada are looking at him.

If they make him explode the cake he made for Shinsou he's going to explode them, too.

"His birth parents abandoned him on his birthday," Aizawa finally, blessedly, explains. "Hitoshi doesn't celebrate his birthday. He always picks a random day in the next month to do it, but he never ever celebrates his birthday on the actual day."

"What the fuck," Katsuki breathes out because what kind of shitty parent doesn't just abandon their kid but also picks their birthday to do that. "That fucking sucks."

"Yeah, you can say that again," Yamada huffs out. "No matter what, we couldn't get him to celebrate it, not even after the adoption went through."

Yeah, that makes some twisted kind of sense, Katsuki thinks, because of course the fear of being abandoned on this day sits way too deep for Shinsou.

Well, fuck that, Katsuki thinks and briefly salutes Aizawa and Yamada.

"Thanks for telling me, or whatever," he tells them and simply marches back towards the front door.

He has a guy to bother after all.

"Hey, hey, what do you think you're doing?" Yamada calls after him but Katsuki doesn't grace him with an answer since it should be kind of clear what the fuck he's going to do.

Aizawa trails after him to the door and Katsuki expects him to lecture him, to respect Shinsou's boundaries or whatever the fuck and Katsuki has already decided that he’s not going to listen to a single word he's going to say.

It comes as quite the surprise when Aizawa simply drops a key into his hand instead of saying anything and Katsuki might not be the most subtle person, but even he can understand a hint like that.

It's basically as good as Aizawa giving him his blessing and Katsuki has no clue why that makes his heart beat so much faster.

"It's a spare. I think it's safe to say that you can keep it," Aizawa tells him with a smirk and when Katsuki looks over his shoulder back at Yamada, he too is smiling way too brightly at Katsuki.

Stupid meddling parents, Katsuki thinks to himself, but of course his fingers tighten almost tellingly around the key. He leaves before anyone else can say something and soon enough, even after he detoured to get some groceries, he finds himself back in front of Shinsou's door.

Katsuki freezes for one moment because what the actual fuck is he even doing, barging in where he might not be wanted, but the warmed metal of the key reminds him that at least Shinsou's parents think he might be wanted here even though it's not as if Katsuki needs any kind of permission to bother his—friend.

Yeah. Because that's what they are.

Katsuki knocks on the door, loud and annoyingly, and to absolutely no one's surprise there is no answer. So he does it again. And then, because he can, again.

But three times is all the warning Shinsou gets from him so next instead of kicking the door down like he wants to he simply uses the key he was given and barges right into Shinsou's apartment.

"Knock, knock, fucker!" Katsuki calls out as he ventures deeper into the apartment.

He doesn't spot Shinsou in the living-room or the kitchen and of course the idiot has hauled himself up in his bedroom, because where else can you properly mope but your bed?

Katsuki lets out a sigh, briefly stopping in the kitchen to put away the groceries he'll need later today and slicing up the cake, neatly laying out a piece for both of them before he takes the plates and makes his way over to Shinsou's bedroom.

The door there is shut almost all the way but not quite and so finally Katsuki gets his wish of kicking a door in, even though he makes sure it doesn't completely fall off its hinges or damage the wall.

Really, Katsuki is being real considerate, all things considered.

Just like Katsuki expected there's a lump under the blankets in the middle of the bed and Katsuki deposits the plates on the ground before he pokes he lump.

"Go the fuck away," Shinsou's muffled voice comes out and Katsuki only pokes him harder.

"Not fucking happening. Move your carcass, you're taking up all the space," Katsuki demands and pokes and pokes and pokes until Shinsou lets out something close to an anguished wail but shuffles around until there's at least a little bit of space.

"I fucking hate you," Shinsou mutters when Katsuki slides into the bed behind him and he lets out an amused huff.

"Tell that to someone who fucking cares," he shoots back. "Now, you wanna be a difficult bastard or do you want to eat something?"

There's a brief pause.

"Did you make it?"

"Of course I fucking made it," Katsuki gives back because Shinsou really should know better.

Katsuki has never shown up with anything but self-made food.

"What is it?"

"Cake."

The lump stiffens again at that but Katsuki couldn't care less. He made cake, big fucking deal. Doesn't even have to be a birthday cake if Shinsou doesn't want it to be.

"Go fuck yourself."

"Do it yourself, coward," Katsuki shoots back immediately and that, at least, prompts something akin to a laugh from Shinsou.

"Maybe later," he decides and Katsuki does not go hot all over. "What kind of cake?"

"Your favourite, what else?"

"You're being real mean to me."

"Say that again and I'll give you something to complain about. I brought the cake, I can take it away again, too."

That gets the lump to wriggle around until a head sticks out from the blankets. Shinsou looks unhappy, stressed, and Katsuki very pointedly does not mention how red his eyes are.

He's not here to really antagonise Shinsou after all and drawing attention to his clearly emotionally vulnerable state is not the way to go.

"Why the fuck are you here?"

"Because you went MIA on me without even being in action. You really should know better."

"How did you get in?"

"Your dad gave me a key."

"You've been to my parents' place?"

"Thought you were hiding away there. No luck, obviously."

"They told you."

"They sure as fuck did," Katsuki admits.

"Then why. Why come here anyway? Is it too much to want one day of peace?"

"It is, actually, at least on this day. I get why you do it, but hiding yourself away like this is not going to convince you that nothing bad is going to happen today."

"Yeah, well, ten years of therapy haven't convinced me, so I'm real curious to know what you're going to do," Shinsou bites out, his eyes narrowed at Katsuki and Katsuki lets out a deep breath before he reaches out and pulls Shinsou half on top of him.

"Well, first of all, I can't leave if you fucking trap me here, right?" he then offers and it only takes a moment before Shinsou's hand tangles in his shirt, holding on for dear life. "Second, you're just going to have to trust me."

"Right, because that's so fucking easy in the face of trauma," Shinsou snaps out but Katsuki isn't bothered.

"It's not going to change if you don't do something. But that doesn't seem to be up your alley, so I'm going to do something for you."

"Like what?"

"Like eating cake with you. Like dragging you out to the couch so we can at least watch some of your trashy shows. Like cooking dinner. Like not leaving until tomorrow."

Shinsou's grip on Katsuki tightens almost painfully at that last part but Katsuki doesn't mention it and simply slings his arm around Shinsou's middle.

"Does any of that sound good to you?"

"Who are you and what have you done with my prickly, loud, aggressive Bakugo?"

Katsuki doesn't think too much about that 'loud, aggressive blondes' comment Aizawa had made earlier, or the way Shinsou just called him his because that way lies madness so he concentrates on something that's easier.

"I can always bully you out into the living-room for the cake, too, if you'd prefer that," he cheerfully says and Shinsou presses himself deeper into the mattress.

"No," he petulantly says and yeah, that's about what Katsuki expected.

"Then take the fucking nice version, it's a one-time offer."

Shinsou moves at that, just enough to be able to prop his chin up on Katsuki's chest and Katsuki's stomach does something that's dangerously close to swooping. His heart, the traitor, also picks up its pace.

"I'd take a year-long abo on the cuddling," Shinsou mutters, a faint flush on his face and Katsuki can't do anything but thread his fingers through Shinsou's hair.

"Eat some cake and I'll consider it," he finally says, though he can't quite find the strength to take his hand back.

"Tempting," Shinsou mutters, leaning over Katsuki to look at the cake. "Really fucking tempting, gimme that," Shinsou then decides, making grabby hands at the cake like the spoiled brat he is and to his absolute horror, Katsuki is not above indulging him it seems, because he leans down to get Shinsou his plate.

"There you go, you annoying prick."

"You like me annoying," Shinsou says around his forkful of cake and Katsuki is almost horrified to find that, yes, he actually does like him like that.

"Fuck off," he grumbles out but there's no heat behind his words and going by the smirk Shinsou graces him with, he damn well knows it.

Shinsou eats his cake in silence after that, though he does offer the occasional bite to Katsuki, who simply takes what's offered to him and by the time his plate is cleared, Shinsou seems more relaxed than before though that quickly dissipates again when Shinsou works himself up over something.

"What?" Katsuki demands to know and Shinsou hides his face in Katsuki's chest.

"Are you really not going to leave?" he asks and his voice shakes around the words.

"I'm really not going to leave," Katsuki quietly promises him, lightly scratching at Shinsou's scalp. "I'm going to stay right here with you."

"Throw in a swear word and I might even believe you," Shinsou mutters, though he does go lax again.

"Ex-fucking-cuse me for trying to be mature or whatever," Katsuki snaps out and he feels way too accomplished when it makes Shinsou laugh.

"There you are," Shinsou mumbles and Katsuki sighs.

"I'm not the one who went away," he then says because Shinsou's been the king of avoidance today but he softens his words by scratching his scalp again.

"I'm just—" Shinsou doesn't finish but Katsuki can take an educated guess anyway.

Scared is what he doesn't want to admit, but Katsuki knows it anyway.

"Yeah. The brain is a bitch like that."

"You're going to stay?" Shinsou asks and on a normal day Katsuki would chew him out for asking redundant questions but not today.

Today he indulges Shinsou as best as he can.

"I'm going to stay."

"For today?"

Katsuki hesitates a moment before he speaks again, but when he does it's nothing but raw honesty in his voice.

"For however long you want me to."

"Mh," Shinsou hums out and slings his arms more firmly around Katsuki in the same breath.

It's all the answer Katsuki needs, really, so he goes back to what is quickly becoming his favourite thing to do: scratching at Shinsou's scalp.

Katsuki doubts that today will stay as relaxed as it is right now, not with what he learned about what happened to Shinsou all these years ago, but for now everything is good, perfect even, and no matter what's going to come along their way, Katsuki will make sure they deal with that, too.

And even if they can't, then he'll simply hold Shinsou through it, because Katsuki really does intend to stay.

Preferably forever.

#bt writes #beetober2024 #bnha #mha #shinbaku #shinsou hitoshi #bakugo katsuki #yamada hizashi #aizawa shouta #married erasermic #hurt/comfort #childhood trauma #cuddling and snuggling #getting together

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striderepiphany · 2 years ago

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My favorite reddie fics masterpost

I have an absolutely insane number of reddie fics saved in my bookmarks for how recently I joined this fandom so I decided to share my absolute favorites with you. Please give these authors some love and let me know which ones are you've read and enjoyed!

the year of the goat and your kid back by derryfacts2

1 chapter, 14,838 words, No Archive Warnings Apply. Summary: The day you get the most important email of your life, there’s a new black skidmark on the wall of the stairwell, and you know exactly whose fault it is. “Margaret,” you intone to the harried, wild-haired woman in the lobby. She sighs at you as she tries to jimmy her mail key loose. “I know.” It wouldn’t even be that bad if the kid would just skateboard outside. Or get good at skateboarding. Either of those things. Maggie’s a nice lady, though, and she’s had “trying my best” scribbled all over her since they moved into 6B maybe eight years ago. So you try not to be a dick, even if her son is a gold-standard pain in the ass. He’s good for three things: smells, noise, and reminding you how big Eddie must be by now.

The first It fic I read that made me go "holy shit, this is fantastic" and remains one of my all-timers (hence why its first in this list). Really fun and unique outsider POV from Eddie's estranged gay dad, and tells a very sweet story mostly through dialogue. Young adult Eddie and Richie are very cute.

i think the clock is slow by derryfacts2 (again)

3 chapters, 15,815 words, No Archive Warnings Apply. Summary: So there was that reason that work wasn’t boring, too. There was Richie’s soppy campaign of making cow eyes at the back of Eddie’s head as he passed, gently pressing Betty for details about his personal life (“I don’t think he has one. He had this awful fiancé a few years ago, but we’re all glad that’s over”), and chasing the incomparable high of a quiet, muttered “Thanks, Rich” whenever Richie picks something up for him from the copier.

Richie is a wannabe stand-up comic daylighting as the receptionist at Eddie's office. Eddie is a tightly-wound corporate asshole. They are both disasters. Or: five times Richie watched Eddie and one that Eddie watched him back.

I really enjoy workplace dramas and this one satisfied the itch so well. So many good scenes and dialogue, this author characterizes them in a way that really works for me. The perfect read-in-an-afternoon fic.

listen to my heart (can you hear it sing?) by vampirerising

12 chapters, 137,708 words, Major Character Death. Summary: "You need to wake up now,” Stan says softly. “This isn’t real.”

“I know, but I can’t,” Richie sobs. “I don’t want to be here.” Not again. Never again. It is dead, why is It still haunting him?

Stan fixes him with one of those looks of his, the one where he can see his every thought as if it were written on his face. “That’s not true, Trashmouth.”

Alternatively: We all know Richie gets caught in the Deadlights, but do we really know what happens after?

(Deadlights, timelines, Stan’s ghostly meddling—oh, my.)

This one is fucking weird in a way that I absolutely adore. Kind of like a sci-fi novel in that it requires you to pay attention to figure out what the fuck is going on but its so good and worth it. The MCD is Stan, not Eddie, and the last couple chapters are actually a very normal domestic Eddie lives AU. One of the first reddie artworks I made was fanart for a scene from this fic that I really enjoy.

a strange sense of familiarity by Katranga

21 chapters, 103,571 words, No Archive Warnings Apply. Summary: "So Eddie, what brings you to the bar tonight?" Richie asked. "Gonna rebound from the divorce? Pick up a hot young twenty-something to feel young again?” “Fuck you,” Eddie said, jutting his chin forward. “What a terrible way to ruin the mood.” “I’m sorry, all my moods are poorly cultivated. What mood were you looking for?” A nervous lump grew in Eddie's throat. He threw back his drink to get rid of it.

Hand wrapped around the glass he’d just slammed back onto the bar, he said, “The mood that gets me leaving with a schlubby forty-something.”

Pre-chapter two, Eddie and Richie meet and don't remember each other, but have an instant connection anyway...

This one is just... so fucking good. Decently long without ever feeling like it's dragging. Part 1 is them developing their totally-casual-I-swear relationship, which blows up right when Mike calls them back to Derry. Part 2 is them navigating both killing a nightmare clown demon and the awkwardness between them. Also everybody lives! So that's nice.

change partners by avacadomoon (with podfic available)

1 chapter, 30,453 words, No Archive Warnings Apply. Summary: "Rich," Eddie says heavily. Meaningfully, and Richie holds his breath, both afraid and hopeful that Eddie is about to say something really sappy, like I always knew and it didn't matter to me, or you know I support you no matter what. Eddie takes a deep breath before he speaks, and Richie closes his eyes, braced for it. "I didn't look at your dick pics."

"Well hey, Eds, thanks," Richie says, laughing incredulously. "Thanks for that."

I LOVE THIS ONE SOOO FUCKING MUCH. I urge you to consider this as a rec for this author as well, as they have a bunch of other reddie fics I think are fantastic. I have a weakness for any reddie fic that lets them be just a little mean to each other. As a treat. (Also the podfic is very well done, you should check that out too.)

check raise by avacodomoon

1 chapter, 15,061 words, No Archive Warnings Apply. Summary: "Eddie, not a fan of stand up comedy, not a fan of his beer," Rich says, leaning back on one elbow and squinting at him, like he's lining him up in a camera lens frame, "but what is he doing drinking alone?"

"I was alone, and now I'm not," Eddie says. "Some prick sat down next to me and started yapping."

"Ah, unpleasant to talk to," Rich concludes. "Explains a lot."

I know I meant the last rec as a blanket rec for all this author's works but I'm including this one specifically because it has a twist ending that is well-foreshadowed and it slapped my dick clean off.

Things that Happen after Eddie Lives by IfItHollers

11 chapters, 107,947 words, Author Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings. Summary: In a world where Richie manages to save Eddie from It after the deadlights, they still have problems on their to-do list. Featuring everything from Derry to Los Angeles—Richie Tozier's murder trial, Eddie Kaspbrak's divorce proceedings, bedsharing of the platonic and non-platonic varieties, an investigation of magic, a truly disgusting séance, the quintessential morosexual road trip, and OH MY GOD THEY WERE ROOMMATES.

Definitely NOT your average Eddie lives AU. Drama! Mild peril! Psychic abilities! The ghost of Stanley Uris collect calling from beyond the grave via Richie Tozier's vocal chords! Fun and freaky and weird. Three things that make any fic a Josh favorite.

I'm going to stop there because I'm sleepy but let me know if you want more! Like I said I've got like 70 of these lovingly tucked in my bookmarks and I'm happy to share with the class.

#reddie #fic recs #it sk #it 2019 #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak

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actual-changeling · 10 months ago

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i think it's funny that whenever i post something about aziraphale not caring about individual humans—only humanity as a concept—the ONLY counter argument everyone always throws at me is 'he gave his flaming sword away'.

mate.

that was six thousand years ago. LITERALLY fresh out of heaven, to the only two humans in existence, who were the entirety of humanity at that point.

let's look at what he's like in more recent years, yes?

ah yes, telling a person living in an alley that her girlfriend is going to hell with a smile. what a kind person. and the wonderful follow-up which sounds like it is straight out of some conservative, capitalistic asshole's mouth.

and fun fact, someone like that has said THOSE EXACT WORDS to me at some point.

crowley asking the real questions here like always

but hey, that was 1827, maybe he was just having a bad year. or decade. or century.

what about the present day? see, crowley is terrified of gabriel and hates his guts, but do you know what he does? he answers his questions very patiently. he is kind. once he realises gabriel isn't pretending he makes him hot chocolate and tries to help him remember, he empathizes.

aziraphale's patient is non-existent. he yells at him immediately, gets frustrated with the most simple questions, refuses to interact with him and leaves crowley with him after crowley told him "what i NEED is for him to be nowhere near me". how considerate. but hey, maybe he was just having a bad time.

job! he was kind in job, right?

except that he doesn't care about job losing his house, his farmstead, all of his animals being slaughtered and only has a problem with the children dying; which he then tries to rationalize away with his fucking "that's not what god wants" shtick.

meanwhile crowley already has plans to protect the animals AND the children AND job and sitis as best he can.

the flood? perfectly alright to drown everyone, including innocent animals and children! it is god's plan, and what do a few humans mean in god's great big ineffable plan, huh?

then again, he doesn't show much empathy for god's son either when he's being nailed to the cross. french revolution and people being beheaded? oh yes, sure, dreadful—anyway i'm just here for the crepes, the dying humans are just background noise, let's not do anything about that even though it is literally my fucking job as an angel. but noooo. he got peckish and then had lunch. what a fucking hero.

'accidentally' killing a dove because he just had to shove it up his sleeve for a magic act.

someone getting shot and dying? because i was careless? don't care. anyway.

armageddon and all of humanity dying? don't care either until i realise what i personally would lose and then i suddenly give a shit.

centuries upon centuries of aziraphale piling up money and he rather terrorizes poor people than entertain giving them a single dime. crowley has to remind and talk him into it, and as thanks he gets dragged down to hell and tortured.

aziraphale is dripping kindness, isn't he? and all of this doesn't even take into account the ball—human puppet show for his own amusement, this is supervillain shit and you know it—or all the other times he ignored human suffering so he wouldn't be personally inconvenienced.

and ALL OF THAT does not take into account how fucking horribly he treats crowley before time even existed.

aziraphale is not unkind. on a big scale, he cares about humanity, he cares about being nice, being good. he wouldn't intentionally harm someone, but he does not care enough to not be careless—he IS careless, and does NOT care if it kills creatures or humans.

his own personal wants and comfort trump everything else, and that is canon, it is text, it is fact. if you have any canonical examples of aziraphale being genuinely kind simply to be kind, not to be selfishly altruistic, please do add them, i'm serious! if you think i'm wrong, prove me wrong. everything i just listed exists in canon, so please, do the same in return.

giving his sword to adam and eve six thousand years ago does not magically erase everything that came after and it does not give him a free pass to behave however he wants, no matter the cost.

#alex talks good omens #good omens #crowley #aziraphale #good omens season 2 #go2 #aziracrow #crowley x aziraphale #ineffable husbands #ineffable wives #ineffable spouses #ineffable divorce #the final fifteen #good omens meta #getting ready for the hate in 3 2 1 #it's a monday and i'm being overly sarcastic but i'm fucking tired of everyone always yelling at me and giving only one example #as if that invalidates everything i say #just fuck off instead of harassing me babes

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fakeagatha · 2 months ago

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Wrong Reality | Agatha Harkness & Eve Flecther | Chapter 3: The Bar

Summary: Eve wants to get Agatha out and about, so she drags her along to a tradition her and her classmates have, a night out at a local bar.

Warnings: Swearing, Alcohol?

Word Count: 1638

It had been several hours since Agatha had entered the room, and Eve had prepared food in the meantime. She softly knocked on the door before entering, seeing a sleeping Agatha sprawled across the bed.

She smiled, and walked over to her and gently shook her awake. "Hey, you need to eat." She whispered, and Agatha whined, looking at her with a glare as she shot up in bed. "Fine." She grumbled as she got up.

Eve chuckled at her cooperation as they both walked into the kitchen. Eve set down a plate of food at the table, and Agatha sat down. "Thanks..." She mumbled, taking a bite.

"You're welcome." Eve smiled, and sat down opposite her.

Agatha's expression brightened when a ginger cat suddenly approached them, staring up at the table. "You have a cat?"

The cat meowed, and Eve grinned, "I forgot that you two haven't met. This is Dave." She said, scratching the cat's head. "He spends most of his time sleeping, he's quite old now."

Agatha smiled, leaning down to stroke Dave's fur, then speaking. "I have a pet too,"

Eve looked up at her, "Oh yeah?" she smirked, and Agatha nodded. "His name is Señor Scratchy, my little rabbit." She sighed, "I hope he's doing okay. He's intelligent though, he can take care of himself," She finished, looking back up to meet Eve's gaze, who was smiling at her.

"He sounds like a charm," She exclaimed, and Agatha's lips turned upwards in response, "He really is."

Dave meowed once again, and the witch picked up a piece of meat off of her plate and handed it to him, who ate it excitedly. "Acting as if he hasn't eaten in a decade!" Eve laughed, leaning back in her chair, then standing up when the phone rang.

Agatha paid no mind, but couldn't help overhearing her conversation.

"Hang on, you only invited your father to your graduation?" Eve gasped, "I know he paid for it, but why do we both not get an invite? Don't give me the invitation limit bullshit, I know it's up to five people." She frowned, and Agatha raised an eyebrow in curiosity.

After a couple minutes, she put the phone down, sitting back down at the table, her mood gloomy. Agatha awkwardly spoke up, "What was that about?"

Eve hesitated, biting her lip before responding. "My son, Brendan. He's graduating in a few months, and his college is having a graduation party, but..." She trailed off.

"That little asshole didn't invite you?" Agatha hissed, and Eve simply nodded. "He says he can only invite one person, but I know it's not true. He chose to only invite his excuse of a father." Eve ranted, "He just doesn't like having me around anymore." She sighed sadly, looking down at the ground.

Agatha scoffed, crossing her arms. "Well, he's clearly missing out, that little brat can't be more appreciative, can he?" She snarled, and to her surprise, it almost seemed as if Eve agreed with her statement.

Agatha licked her lips, and glanced at the woman, "From what I've seen so far, you're a great person, kind and caring. Don't let that kid make you think otherwise." She spoke, the words leaving her mouth like she'd rehearsed it.

Eve smiled, a real one, blushing at Agatha's words. "Well, I'm flattered. Thanks Agatha."

The witch finished off her food, giving an occasional piece of meat to the cat who had been watching the two -and the plate of food- the whole time, before wiping her mouth off with a napkin. "Didn't you say we'd be doing something? Unless you don't feel like it anymore?"

Eve stood up, as if the statement had reminded her of something. "Right, I was wondering if you'd want to go to a bar with me and my writing class tonight? It's a tradition we have, and I'm sure they'd be happy for me to bring you along."

"Oh Eve, I haven't been to a bar in years" Agatha giggled.

Eve shrugged, "So? What's stopping you? You have one life, go and do anything that crosses your mind." She grinned, "Well, almost anything."

Agatha rolled her eyes, before reluctantly agreeing, as Eve nodded enthusiastically at her approval.

As the evening approached, Agatha was putting on a black dress which she had borrowed from Eve for the night, as she quite literally didn't have any other clothes apart from the ones she was wearing when the accident happened. She didn't try too hard to look flattering, unlike Eve who was trying to make her hair look perfect and failing to do her eyeliner.

Agatha shook her head, turning back to the mirror as she debated whether tying her hair into her iconic bun, or leaving it down free. She went with the first option, because she realized that otherwise she would quite literally look like Eve's sister, which she wasn't.

Eve wandered into the guest room, admiring Agatha. "You look great!" She exclaimed, and Agatha simply thanked her, attempting to return the compliment.

After the women were ready, Amanda was parked outside to pick them both up. Next to her in the front seat, was an unfamiliar woman.

"Hey girls!" Eve said excitedly, as she was greeted by the pair in front. "Agatha, this is Margo, my professor." She gestured to the woman in the passenger's seat, who gave her a polite smile. "It's nice to meet you, Agatha,"

Agatha gave them a nod and a brief greeting, as she sat in the backseat next to Eve. The drive begun, and the three women all chatted about work and their class, while Agatha preferred to observe, occasionally agreeing with something that was said, enjoying their gossiping.

They pulled up to a bar, the light illuminating through the entrance, Eve's two other classmates, being Julian, and Curtis, who she hadn't met before, both waiting by the door for their arrival.

Eve introduced Agatha to the group, who exchanged handshakes, as the witch smiled awkwardly at them both, as if she was forced to be there. In a way though, she was. She wanted nothing more than to be back at home with her rabbit, and being able to judge everyone in her hometown once again. She knew she had to be patient and wait for Eve's car to get repaired, and there was no way she would let her take any public transport alone, even though she felt completely fine.

The six of them walked into the building, the lights being colored purple which brought a smile to Agatha's face. They all found a nice table with couches in the corner, as they sat down together. Curtis and Margo sat together next to Amanda, and Eve sat between Agatha and Julian.

Agatha looked over Eve and towards the teen, and spoke, "So, I'm assuming you have a thing for older women?" She said suddenly, making Julian and Eve turn red. "Agatha!" She gasped, and Julian couldn't help but chuckle.

"I suppose I do," He responded, and Agatha smirked at his honesty. "Hm, good choice I suppose." She said before turning back towards the rest of the group.

After around half an hour of sipping on their drinks, Julian, Eve, Amanda and Margo all got up to dance to a song that had started playing.

"Agatha, come on!" Eve said enthusiastically, and the witch shook her head.

"There is absolutely no way in hell I'm dancing to this." She said stubbornly, and Eve rolled her eyes before finding herself dancing with Amanda and Julian. Margo had surprisingly managed to drag an exhausted Curtis up with her, leaving Agatha with her thoughts.

Her eyes roamed around the people in the bar, her eyes landing on a young woman, probably in her twenties, who was standing behind the bar. Her eyes flickered down her body for a moment, before reminding herself of the fact that she's almost ancient and deteriorating from how old she was, and that the woman was practically still a child in her eyes.

She glanced back over to the group, and her eyes widened in surprise to see Julian and Eve sharing a brief kiss. She laughed to herself, and she seemed even more shocked when she moved on to kiss Amanda as well.

"That's who she was talking about..." She rolled her eyes, almost amused by the fact that the three could probably all make out with each other in public with no shame. Agatha almost felt inspired at her boldness, and acceptance of herself to be able to explore in that way.

She decided to be bold like Eve, and got up to the bar, walking up to the woman she had seen, hoping to strike up a conversation.

After a while, Eve sat back down at the table, panting a little. She quickly looked around after noticing that Agatha was missing, and grinned when she saw her talking to the young bartender in a sensual way.

Agatha arrived after a while and sat back down next to Eve. She would have gotten the woman's number, but she literally did not have a phone, as it was left on her coffee table when the accident happened. Well, that's the excuse she made for herself anyway. Realistically, she knew that something about her whole situation was strange, and she decided to go against becoming close with anyone in this town.

After a few minutes of silence, Eve leaned back and looked at Agatha. "What are you doing, hitting up the young ladies?" She said teasingly, and Agatha scoffed in response, shoving Eve. "I wasn't 'hitting her up', I was simply telling her she looked nice, and I had a very appropriate and friendly conversation." She replied bluntly, looking away from her.

Everyone shortly returned back to the table, and Agatha couldn't help but join in on the conversations, as much as she didn't want to. The night went on as the six of them enjoyed themselves, but Agatha might have enjoyed letting herself loose even more.

#agatha harkness #wandavision #kathryn hahn #agatha all along #mrs fletcher #eve fletcher #agatha x reader #agatha harkness x reader #agatha coven of chaos #crossover #my writings #fics

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saccharinesatoru · 3 months ago

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Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy (preview)

Pairing: Gojo x reader (afab)

Genre: cowboy!gojo x bandit!reader + smut

Word count: uhh like 1.7k (haven't finished the full fic yet lmao we'll see what the wc gets to)

Summary: how does the strongest fare in the wild, wild West as the newest sheriff? we're about to find out!!

a/n: shout out to whoever made this fanart bc jesus fucking christ. i have more written for this fic so I'll post it in the next day or so I just wanted to give a preview lol this isn't proofread my apologies

xx Jay

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You were fucked. And, fuck, did you know it.

“You idiot!” you cursed, “Do you wanna die? How could you be so stupid?”

Your partner in crime (literally) turned to you with a crazed grin on his face, high on the rush. “What? Don’t tell me you’re scared of some little sheriff.”

His eyes widened at your statement, “I’m just down on my luck that’s all!”

You roll your eyes, sensing a migraine coming on. “Shut the fuck up with your poker references, Toji. You’re not good enough at any card game to warrant that kind of talk.”

“Bitch,” he mutters under his breath.

You turn around and are about to rip into him when you hear the sound of incoming horses and a voice call out, “They’re just up ahead!”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Toji curses as he puts out his cigar and stands up hastily. He looks around the room frantically and meets your eyes before darting out of the shared space.

Running out of the room and following his footsteps, you exit out the backdoor. Your jaw drops to the ground at the sight in front of you. Toji’s sat on top of your very own horse, grabbing her by the reins and turning to you with a devilish smirk on his face. “Sorry, doll, I gotta cut ties here. ‘Can’t afford to get caught, you know? I’m sure you understand. Let me borrow your horse, yeah? I owe ya one.”