#but she’s protesting something or another about them
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Being a lord of medieval times, Bruce sent Jason and Cass to negotiate a peace treaty with the rulers of the Far Frozen.
The news he received months later is not what he hoped for. It's a wedding invitation for Cass and Danny, along with a note that Jason would be staying with his new wife Jazz in the Far Frozen.
Bruce nervously waited in front of the gates with the rest of his children and family members. Alfred stood silently, Dick was wheedling Damian into some sort of game, Tim was goading him on, and Stephanie and Duke were having a rapid whispered conversation, while lifting their heads up and down every so often to see when or not Cass and Jason's carriage would come.
They all perked up and straightened when they saw a carriage coming towards them from the horizon.
"They're here!" Duke crowed.
Before Bruce could even say a word, they all went racing towards the carriage, never mind the fact that it was far away. Bruce blinked and then sighed. Alfred coughed to hide his laughter.
Alfred handed him a pair of binoculars and Bruce sighed again before using it to watch his children sprint across the fields to meet the carriage.
He wasn't too worried about their safety. His kingdom was safe and all of his roads had guards. He watched as Dick stopped the carriage and they all surrounded the door. They visibly cheered, so Jason and Cass were surely inside—
Suddenly, his children all hesitated, pausing and looking at each other before looking back through the carriage door.
Oh no. Had something happened?
Bruce wordlessly handed Alfred the binoculars and then took off running as well. His bones creaked in protest but the panic that clouded his mind made him move faster than ever before.
When he skidded to a halt, he saw Cass leaning outside of the window.
She, however, was alone inside of the carriage.
A cold shiver washed over Bruce’s back and he asked urgently, “Where’s Jason? What happened? Did something—” He felt almost dizzy from the stress and panic.
“Bruce!” Dick said. “Jason’s fine. Cass will explain.”
Bruce tried to calm down. Tim patted him on the shoulder comfortingly. Cass gave a small smile, leaning out of the window to reach out for his hand. Bruce held hers firmly, swallowing as Cass then handed him a letter.
“Proposal,” she said softly. “Jason is safe. Married in the Far Frozen.”
Now Bruce was feeling light headed for another reason.
“What?”
Dick and Stephanie started snickering. Cass continued, “Jason married the Queen Reagent. He’ll come back in a week or two. The crown prince has asked for my hand too.”
Bruce stared at the letter in horror, suddenly realizing why it had an official seal.
Dick asked, almost gushing, “Awww, what do you think? Do you want to say yes?”
Cass nodded, blushing slightly. “It was love at first sight for both of us.”
Amidst a bunch of coos and congratulations, Bruce felt his entire world fall apart.
“WHAT?!”
#dc x dp#dp x dc#dpxdc#dcxdp#danny phantom x dc#dp x dc crossover#ask#jazz fenton#anon ask#jason todd#danny x cass#cassandra wayne#cassandra cain#danny fenton#ty for the ask!#jason x jazz#anger management ship#hardcover ship#dead silent ship#dick grayson
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All Of Your Pieces (2 - Liar! Liar!)
Chapter Summary: You wake up one morning compelled to say the truth and nothing but the truth. Wanda seizes this opportunity to ensure everything remains under her control. Meanwhile, Jimmy and Darcy finally discover what happened to Agent Monica Rambeau. Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Female Reader Chapter word count: 3k+ | Chapter Tags: Manipulation
A/N: Billy is my favorite twin, if that isn't obvious already :P // More author's notes here.
Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist
It doesn’t require a calendar to track the days here in Westview.
It's the kind of repetition that settles over suburban life, where dates fade into insignificance and days blur into a seamless loop, distinguishable only by the changing seasons. But even the current season—fall—is as predictable in its passage as ever, like storybook weather in its perfection. The birds are always chirping, the sun rises promptly at 6:40 every morning—never a minute early or a second late—and it never rains. Just endless clear skies, day after day, until the sun sets at five.
You've been chewing on this odd feeling ever since you and Wanda arrived in this part of New Jersey, but today, there's something extra. You can't pin it down, just that it's…there. Today feels different—more than usual—and you didn’t really get it until breakfast, when your mouth slipped past your usual tact with the kids.
“Mommy, do you like it?” Tommy asks, his eyes big and hopeful as he holds up a crayon drawing of what looks like the family standing outside a perfect little house.
Perfect. Honestly, you’re getting pretty tired of everything being so perfect around here.
“It's...very colorful,” you start, the usual praise ready on your tongue, but what comes out instead is, “Though it's kind of all over the place, isn’t it? Maybe you could try to stay inside the lines a bit more.”
Speaking aloud is like sending an email: once it's out there, it's out there for good. Even so, an email would have been the better option. At least then, you could just hack into Tommy’s account—if he ever figures out how to set one up—and erase your blunder for good.
Could having a magical wife somehow save you from this mess?
It’s too late though. Tommy's face crumples, and Wanda doesn't seem keen on throwing you a lifeline, just a dirty look from across the table as you sip your morning coffee.
“But if you’re going for an abstract—” you start, but your son is already sulking off to his room.
Billy digs into his cereal, blissfully unaware. Wanda, on the other hand, looks as if she's ready to rip open a portal to another realm and hurl you out of this one.
That can’t be good.
“You really upset him,” she says, arms crossing over her chest. “He was so proud of that drawing.”
“I know, I feel awful about it,” you groan, burying your face in your hands. Seeing your genuine remorse, Wanda eases up, giving you a moment to stew in your guilt before she comes back to the table with a stack of pancakes.
“Here, eat up,” she says, setting them down in front of you.
You pick up your fork, cutting into the stack. They look perfect—golden brown, with the butter melting just right. You take a bite, and before you can stop yourself, the words are out.
“They're a bit dry,” you blurt out, instantly regretting your words. But once you start, you can't seem to stop. “And this maple syrup... it tastes kind of artificial.”
Wanda gasps. “Excuse me?”
“Shit—”
“Language, Y/N!” she snaps, but it's too late, the curse is already out there, floating in the air like a bad smell.
In the next moment, something strange happens—your lips tingle, and suddenly you can't feel your mouth. Alarmed, you touch your face, finding smooth skin where your lips should be. You try to protest, but only muffled noises emerge. Fear surges as you point frantically at your face. You attempt to scream, but no sound comes out.
Seeing your flustered pantomime, Wanda’s face goes from angry to horrified. With a wave of her hand, your mouth is back in its place, and you’re gasping, both of you staring at each other, not believing what just happened. Meanwhile, Billy is giggling, clapping his tiny hands together, and gleefully repeating the S-word you accidentally let slip earlier.
You and Wanda just continue to stare at each other in shock, but then you glance at Billy, his innocent delight completely oblivious to the fact he’s saying something he shouldn’t, and you see the corners of Wanda’s mouth start to twitch. A moment later, she’s laughing unabashedly, and before you know it, you’re doing the same.
Despite the peculiarities of your life here in Westview, you don't think you've ever been this content. Before Wanda, the idea of having your own family—your own kids, two no less—seemed unthinkable. You never imagined you'd have a wife, a house in a quiet suburb, or hear one of your sons swear for the first time. Westview is far from normal, but then again, so is your family. As you watch Wanda's laughter taper into soft giggles, you think it's impossible to love her any more than you already do.
Wanda made this all conceivable for you.
“Sorry, honey,” you say, though still a bit shaken by the ordeal. “I didn't mean to be so rude.”
Wanda looks even more remorseful than you feel—which makes sense, considering she did erase your mouth, however briefly.
“And I probably shouldn't have... you know, removed your mouth,” she murmurs, guiltily picking at her cuticles.
Admittedly, it was terrifying—one of the scariest experiences you've ever had. You certainly don't want a repeat. It makes you slightly wary of your wife, but your love for Wanda outweighs your fear. Standing beside one of the most powerful beings in the universe takes courage, and you've built up plenty over the years together. You're made for this—for her, for this kind of love.
“Apology accepted,” you say, mustering a weak smile.
Wanda's face floods with relief, then quickly contorts into worry. “What’s with you today?”
“I can't seem to lie,” you confess, realizing there's no easy way to skirt the truth. “I don't know what's happening, but I just can't stop saying exactly what's on my mind.”
She stares at you, confused and a little hurt. “What do you mean you can’t lie today? So, you’re usually lying?”
Before you can smooth that over, Billy looks up from his cereal, fixing you with that stern look that’s pure Wanda. “Mommy, lying is bad.”
Wanda’s gaze softens as she looks at Billy, then back at you, the seriousness returning. “Billy, why don’t you go brush your teeth and check on your brother? Your mommy and I need to talk for a little bit.”
“Okay, mama.”
Billy scampers off, and you feel your stature shrink under your wife's gaze, suddenly feeling every bit the child.
“What’s this about not being able to lie?” Wanda asks once it’s just the two of you.
You shake your head. “Look, it’s not that I usually lie, but today, I can’t even if I wanted to. It’s like a—a truth filter permanently switched off.”
Wanda takes a few moments to mull over your words. “Oh…” she starts, sounding half-convinced. “Maybe it’s stress,” she throws out after a beat. “You’ve been working really hard lately, haven’t you? Perhaps your mind is just overwhelmed and you need a mental day off.”
You had thought of that, but the whole situation seemed too weird for such a simple explanation. Then again, maybe seeing shadows where there aren't any is just another stress symptom. So you let it slide.
“Yeah, maybe you’re right. I’ll see if I can call in sick next week,” you mumble, trying to sound cheerful about the prospect of a break.
Wanda comes around the table and cups your face in her hands. You let her pinch your cheeks together, feeling both stubborn and a bit sorry for yourself. It's silly, but all you want is for Wanda to coddle you and make you feel better, not to dish out logical reasons for why you’re not yourself today.
“Well, if you're stuck with the truth, let's have some fun with it,” Wanda says.
You swallow hard, aware that any question she might ask now would either please or upset her—and there seems to be no middle ground.
“Uhm, honey, I don’t think—”
“Do you love me?”
You smirk at her; that’s an easy one. “More than anything else.”
“Only me?”
You laugh at her silly follow-up. This reminds you of the early days of your courtship when Wanda was a bottomless well of need. You didn't mind at all, knowing she needed to hear it as often as you made her feel it. Initially, you were a bit bothered, wondering if your actions weren't speaking loudly enough for her to trust you. Eventually, it became less frequent, until the question turned into a statement—You love me—to which you responded with your own: You love me too. Since then, it quickly became how you say ‘I love you’ to each other.
“Only you. I'd sooner die than love someone else,” you confidently tell her.
Her smile in return is a beautiful riddle—a riddle you can’t figure out.
“Wanda, I—”
“Do you like living here?”
“Sometimes.” The words slip out before you can think, and you're relieved to realize that your feelings about Westview are honestly not all negative. “It’s a nice town. Quiet and cheap.”
Wanda's face does something subtle. You can't quite read her reaction, but it's clear she has more questions when she doesn't park on your answer, instead moving on to something else.
“Do you... do you remember how we got here?"
You blink at her. Initially, the question seems a bit absurd. But as you try to formulate a response, “Of course. We got married at…” you stall, your brain blanking on the when and where of your own wedding. “...then we moved into this house last…”
You try to pin down the date, but it slips through your mind like sand.
“Wanda?” A laugh escapes you, but there's a nervous edge to it. “Why can’t I remember any of the details?”
The last thing she says before flicking her wrist is, “Because you’re not supposed to.” But even that slips away, scrubbed clean from your memory by Wanda’s sweeping hand.
–
“Jimmy?”
“Yeah?”
“I think I found her.”
Jimmy hurried over to the tight corner of their camp where Darcy had practically set up shop for the past few days. Since the signals were first picked up, she's taken charge of monitoring the transmissions, her main focus being to locate Agent Monica Rambeau. They've already confirmed that many of Wanda's bizarre, sitcom-style characters are, in fact, real residents of Westview, somehow trapped inside whatever anomaly Wanda seems to be in the center of.
“That’s Monica, right?” Darcy points at the grainy image on the retro television set they've been using to watch the town's activities. The broadcasts come through at odd hours, which makes every second of surveillance crucial.
Jimmy leans in closer, squinting at the screen where a woman bearing a striking resemblance to Monica appears. “It sure looks like her,” he confirms.
The woman onscreen is dressed in distinctly 70s fashion—a bold, patterned blouse with wide lapels tucked into high-waisted bell-bottoms. Her hair is styled in voluminous, bouncy curls that softly frame her face, completing the look that is so far removed from the S.W.O.R.D. uniform Jimmy last saw her in.
“I wonder what character she’s playing in the show…” Darcy muses.
A handful of nearby crew quietly look on as Monica steps out of a Hornet, a stack of papers clutched in her hand, and strides confidently toward one of those cookie-cutter houses lining the street—yours and Wanda's.
“Stay frosty, Monica,” Darcy mutters under her breath, staring unblinkingly at the screen as they watch her knock gently on the door.
It’s Wanda who greets her with a guarded smile. “Hello, can I help you?” she asks, sizing up the stranger on her doorstep.
“Hi, there. I’m Geraldine. You must be Wanda,” Monica says. Jimmy and Darcy exchange a look, both arriving at the same conclusion: whatever spell has ensnared the other residents, Monica appears to be under it too.
“Do I know you?” Wanda asks, her teeth gritted in what she hopes passes for a smile. But Wanda, she’s got a tell. It’s never hard to see when she’s faking it. The sitcom laugh track of this Westview tries to spin it as humor, but it’s clear to anyone—she’s not thrilled about Geraldine’s arrival at all.
“Oh, I’m sorry, has Y/N not mentioned who I am?” Geraldine asks mildly, like she’s bringing up some small, casual detail—which, for Wanda, it isn’t.
“Honey, who's at the door?” Your voice drifts from the living room just before you step into view, crunching on an apple. When you spot the visitor, your face lights up with recognition, puzzling Wanda even more.
“Evening, ma'am,” Geraldine nods at you with a polite smile.
Wanda keeps darting glances between you and Geraldine, trying to piece together what's going on. And what’s frustrating her is you don’t seem privy at all to her disconcertment.
“I told you to just call me Y/N,” you admonish with a light grin. “What brings you here?”
“W-Who is she?” Wanda jumps in, keeping up her charade of a pleasant surprise.
“It’s Geraldine,” you tell Wanda, expecting her to recognize the name. Her blank, slightly annoyed expression forces you to jog your memory and that’s when it hits you that your wife has no idea what you’re talking about. “She’s my new assistant. Didn’t I tell you?” you say sheepishly.
“No, honey, you certainly did not,” Wanda replies, her smile stretched a bit too tight. She turns to Geraldine. “Aren’t offices usually closed by five?”
“They sure are, Wanda,” Geraldine replies cheerfully. It bothers Wanda how Geraldine uses ‘ma’am’ for you but casually drops her first name like they're old friends.
“So, why are you here?” Wanda asks, no longer bothering to hide her irritation.
“Oh, just dropping off some reports that Y/N needed to review tonight. Urgent stuff, you know?” Geraldine holds up the stack of papers in her hand as proof.
“Yikes,” Darcy winces at the tension practically leaking through the screen, feeling that deep cringe of secondhand embarrassment for Monica's obliviousness to Wanda's ire.
Fortunately for your assistant, you position yourself between her and Wanda, intercepting just as your wife’s temper begins to flare. You remember Wanda’s warm, almost syrupy kindness with Agnes when she first appeared, which only makes her sudden cold front toward Geraldine unreasonable.
“I completely forgot about those reports. Thanks for bringing them over, Geraldine,” you say, nudging her toward the exit. “See you Monday!”
Then, you close the door before she can add anything else, sparing both women from each other.
“So, why haven't you mentioned Geraldine before?” Wanda asks, not sparing another second to grill you about your new assistant.
You frown, thinking back. “I thought I did.”
Wanda looks at you for a long moment, her expression inscrutable. “Are you sure there’s nothing else you’re not telling me?” she demands, her eyes searching yours.
“Uh-oh, trouble in paradise,” Darcy sing-songs, stuffing a handful of popcorn into her mouth. Jimmy reaches over, trying to sneak a handful, but she swats him away.
You give her a lopsided smile, doing your best to charm your way out of the situation. The compulsive honesty from earlier isn't nagging at you anymore, but really, there's no need to sugarcoat anything in this case.
“Sounds like someone's a little jealous,” you tease lightly. And there it is again—that distant chorus of an audience, laughing on cue. You really need to talk to Wanda about this; it could be linked to all the experiments she's been doing with her powers.
Wanda barks out a forced laugh right into your smirking face. “Jealous? Me? There's no way I'm jealous of anyone, especially not Geraldine.”
“Then why did you look like you wanted to throw her out yourself when she showed up?”
Wanda's smile fades a tad, then she just shrugs. “Because she was interrupting our family dinner time. That's all.”
Normally, you'd draw this out until she admits she's jealous, but that could take all night. Right now, all you want is to kiss your beautiful wife, the only one you see. It's getting late, and not being able to touch her all day is driving you a little mad with want.
“Fine, you're not jealous,” you whisper, moving in, wrapping your arms around her waist. “Why would you be? You’re the prettiest, smartest, most amazing woman anyone could ask for.”
Wanda melts into you almost instantly. “You love me.”
“You love me too,” you say before leaning in to peck her lips. She hums happily against your lips, but just then, you hear the boys complaining about being hungry. Sharing a smile, you both head back to sort out dinner.
The episode ends, credits roll, and Darcy groans, tossing her head back. “No way. I need more of this,” she huffs, stabbing her finger at the screen. “They're perfect together. Shame Y/N’s supposedly dead. I hate spoilers.”
“She doesn’t look dead to me from here,” Jimmy says.
“My theory? That’s not actually her. I bet Wanda or someone did something to make a rando look like Y/N.”
“You think?”
Darcy nods. “With all the surreal stuff happening here? Yeah, I'd put money on it, dude.”
“Maybe you’re right,” Jimmy concedes. “Anyway, it’s a relief to see Agent Rambeau’s alive and kicking.”
“As Geraldine,” Darcy reminds him. “I wonder who chooses their names for them. Back to Y/N, what did that Howard guy have to say about Y/N being dead but so alive in Westview?”
“It’s Hayward,” Jimmy corrects her with a sigh. “He doesn’t seem interested in her or anyone else trapped inside. He’s more interested in the energy field surrounding the town.”
“And their boys?” Darcy adds, not listening to Jimmy’s rant. “We don’t have any public record of their true identities in Westview, right?”
Jimmy gives her a sidelong glance. “No records, no data. As far as Westview’s concerned, they just… appeared.”
“Typical,” she mutters, jotting down notes without looking away from the TV's static, hoping there’s a bonus episode or something.
But the screen stays blank, nothing but static for hours on end.
–
After hours of making love, Wanda lies next to you, watching you sleep. She’s used her powers on you before, but never here, never without your consent since you became a couple. Casting the hex was the easy part, the lying to you—not so much. Acting like she didn't know what was troubling you had hurt her more than she let on.
She wanted to check if you were still happy here, still content, or if doubts were starting to creep in. And knowing you—the real you—you'd probably lie to Wanda just to keep her happy, just to ensure she has everything she wants. You've always prioritized her needs over your own, always stepping aside to let her shine. She wants the same for you, but you always manage to outdo her in every act of self-sacrifice.
When you started asking her about the exact dates of the wedding you thought you two actually had, it confirmed you still had no idea why you’re here, or what she’s done. She was relieved, honestly, because it meant she could stop forcing you to tell the truth, a spell she’d put on you out of desperation more than distrust.
She isn't sure how long this will last, just that it might be the most happiness she'll ever know, even if it's a delicate, fleeting kind. How did she even do this? Wanda doesn’t even know. It just happened—like a rose that has sprouted off a barren land. And now, despite having everything she's ever wanted, there’s always this nagging fear that it could all fall apart.
Quietly, she makes a promise to herself to fix things. She promises to you and her boys, she’ll find a way to make this life real, something that won’t just vanish like everything else she’s ever loved.
#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda maximoff imagine#wanda maximoff x you#wanda x you#wanda maximoff#unbetad#my writing#my fic#elizabeth olsen x reader#elizabeth olsen#wanda maximoff fanfiction#oneshots#fic request#wandavision#monica rambeau#darcy lewis#jimmy woo#All Of Your Pieces#AOYP
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Can you write a blurb for leah please? Leah’s been working out more & trying to get reader to notice her abs & compliment her. Funny with flexing plz 🤣
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Leah’s been walking around shirtless for three days.
Not that you’re complaining, exactly—your girlfriend is gorgeous, and you’re only human—but the constant parading is starting to feel deliberate. She’s not usually this brazen. Leah likes a good hoodie, a T-shirt, or one of your oversized sweatshirts that somehow still fit her perfectly. But lately, every time you turn around, there she is, abs out, like she’s auditioning for the front cover of Men’s Health.
It starts with the “accidental” stretches. She’s lying on the sofa, scrolling through her phone, and then—oh!—she just happens to sit up and twist, her arms above her head, the faint outline of her six-pack on full display.
“Stretching again?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.
She shrugs. “Been working out more. You know, core strength and all that”
“Right,” you say, biting back a smile, because you know exactly what she’s doing.
Then there’s the kitchen incident. You’re making tea, minding your own business, when Leah decides to “help” by reaching for something on the top shelf, her tank top riding up conveniently as she does.
“Need a hand?” she asks, glancing down at you.
“I’m good,” you reply, trying not to laugh.
“Sure? I’ve got great upper body strength now. All those planks are paying off”
“I’m sure they are,” you say, turning back to the kettle.
But the pièce de résistance comes later, when you’re curled up on the sofa watching a film. Leah’s sitting beside you, shirtless again (because, of course, why not?), and she’s fidgeting in that way that lets you know she’s desperate for attention.
You decide to test your theory.
“Are you cold?” you ask innocently.
“Nope,” she replies, flexing slightly.
“Comfortable?”
“Very.” Another subtle flex, this time accompanied by her arm draped casually over the back of the sofa, as if to frame herself perfectly.
You smother a laugh and glance at her, deadpan. “Alright, show-off, what’s this about?”
She blinks, feigning innocence. “What d’you mean?”
“I mean, you’ve been walking around here like a Love Island contestant for three days. What’s the deal?”
She shifts, looking sheepish. “I just… thought you might’ve noticed”
“Noticed what?”
“My abs!” she blurts, sitting up straight. “I’ve been working on them for weeks, and you haven’t said a word!”
You stare at her for a moment, then burst out laughing.
“Leah Williamson,” you say between giggles, “are you fishing for compliments?”
“No!” she protests, but her ears have gone red.
“Babe,” you say, reaching out to poke her stomach. “Your abs are amazing. They’re the eighth wonder of the world. I’m shocked the sun hasn’t come out just to reflect off them”
“Alright, don’t be a knob,” she mumbles, though she’s smiling now.
You lean closer, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “Seriously, though. You look incredible. Always have, always will”
She tries to act nonchalant, but you catch the way her chest puffs up slightly.
“And just so you know,” you add, smirking, “I noticed. I’ve just been enjoying watching you work for it”
“Unbelievable,” she mutters, though she can’t hide her grin as she pulls you into her lap.
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Store owner Y/N - Regular Customer Eunbi that turns yandere when she notices other customer swooning over Y/N
NOT THE SAME.
YANDERE EUNBI X STORE OWNER Y/N
The sun kissed Y/n's sleepy face as he opened the creaky door to his beloved flower shop. A soft breeze carried the sweet scent of blooming roses, a familiar comfort that had become a part of his daily ritual. His fingers gently traced the delicate petals, a smile playing on his lips.
His flower shop, a haven of vibrant colors and fragrant blooms, was a dream realized. Yet, it was a dream that often felt solitary. Days would slip by, the soft ticking of the clock echoing in the quiet space. But then, a ray of sunshine had entered his life, a young woman named Eunbi.
With each visit, she brought a warmth that brightened his days. Her laughter, like a gentle summer rain, washed away his worries. She would share stories of her life, her dreams, her fears, and he would listen, captivated by her vulnerability. A bond, tender and pure, had blossomed between them, a friendship that felt like something more.
One day, the usual tranquility of his shop was disrupted by an influx of customers. Among them was a woman named Minju, her eyes sparkling with a captivating allure. As she wandered through the aisles, her gaze lingered on Y/n, a subtle spark igniting in her eyes.
Y/n, though initially surprised by the sudden attention, couldn't deny the thrill that coursed through him. Minju was everything Eunbi wasn't: confident, vibrant, and undeniably beautiful. As he engaged in conversation with her, he couldn't help but feel a strange sense of excitement, a thrill he hadn't experienced in a long time.
Meanwhile, Eunbi's world had taken a dark turn. A traumatic event had shattered her fragile heart, leaving her feeling lost and alone. She sought solace in the familiar embrace of Y/n's flower shop. But as she approached, a scene unfolded before her eyes that sent a wave of icy dread through her veins. Y/n, her beloved friend, was laughing with another woman, their shared joy a stark contrast to the pain she carried within.
A surge of anger, a primal instinct to protect what she believed was hers, consumed her. The gentle, kind Eunbi was replaced by a creature of darkness, a yandere's heart beating wildly within her chest. A dangerous obsession had taken root, a twisted love that would consume her and Y/n alike.
Y/n watched as Eunbi approached, a peculiar gleam in her eyes. She handed him a bag, heavy with expensive gifts. Designer clothes, sleek wallets, and other lavish items filled the bag. Confusion etched itself onto Y/n's face.
"Eunbi, this is too much," he protested, his voice laced with concern. "You shouldn't have."
Eunbi, however, seemed oblivious to his discomfort. "You deserve it, Y/n," she insisted, her voice low and seductive. "You deserve the best, not that...other woman."
Y/n's heart skipped a beat. How did she know about Minju? A chill ran down his spine as he realized the extent of Eunbi's obsession. Her once gentle eyes now held a possessive glint, a darkness that frightened him.
"You don't understand," he tried to explain, his voice barely a whisper. "I...I don't feel the same way."
Eunbi's smile turned into a sinister grin. "Oh, but you will," she promised, her tone laced with menace. "You'll only have eyes for me."
As the days passed, Eunbi's behavior grew increasingly erratic. She would stalk Y/n, monitoring his every move. She sent him countless messages, professing her love and threatening those who dared to come near him. Minju, the innocent object of her jealousy, became the target of her wrath.
Eunbi's obsession had spiraled out of control, a dangerous obsession that threatened to consume them both. As Y/n struggled to break free from her grasp, he realized that he was trapped in a nightmare of his own making.
Eunbi's tactics shifted. She began to dress provocatively, her once modest attire replaced by revealing clothes that hinted at a darker side. She would bat her eyes, whisper sweet nothings, and try to seduce him with her body. But Y/n, though intrigued, was resolute. He could see the desperation in her eyes, the madness lurking beneath the surface.
When her seductive charms failed, a sinister plan began to form in her mind. A plan that would ensure Y/n's love, no matter the cost.
One fateful day, Eunbi stormed into the flower shop, her eyes ablaze with a dangerous intensity. She wreaked havoc, destroying the beautiful blooms that Y/n had nurtured with such care. Her laughter, once a gentle melody, now sounded like the cackle of a witch.
Y/n, helpless and terrified, was bound and gagged. His heart pounded in his chest as he watched in horror as Eunbi turned her attention to Minju. The once vibrant woman was now a broken doll, her spirit crushed by Eunbi's cruelty.
As the sun began to set, casting long, eerie shadows, Eunbi turned her gaze back to Y/n. Her eyes, filled with a twisted love, held a promise of eternal torment. "You're mine, and mine alone," she whispered, her voice barely audible.
Y/n closed his eyes, accepting his fate. He had underestimated the depths of Eunbi's obsession, and now he would pay the ultimate price.
The room was bathed in a crimson hue, the air thick with the scent of blood and decay. Eunbi, her eyes wild with a manic glee, stood over Y/n's bound form. Her laughter, a macabre symphony, echoed through the silent room.
"Look at you, Y/n," she cooed, her voice dripping with venom. "All mine, just like I always wanted."
With a chilling precision, she began her macabre work. Each cut, each tear, was a declaration of ownership. She marveled at his body, tracing the contours of his muscles, the curve of his lips. Each touch, each caress, was a twisted expression of love.
Y/n, his spirit broken, could only weep silently. His once vibrant eyes were now dull and lifeless, reflecting the horror of his situation. He was a prisoner in his own body, a puppet controlled by Eunbi's twisted desires.
As the night wore on, the room became a macabre tableau. Blood pooled on the floor, staining the once pristine tiles. Eunbi, oblivious to the carnage, continued her gruesome work, her laughter growing louder with each passing moment.
Finally, she was finished. Y/n, a shell of his former self, was bound to a chair, a grotesque masterpiece. Eunbi stood back, admiring her work. "Perfect," she whispered, a satisfied smile playing on her lips.
From that day forward, Y/n was no longer his own. He was a possession, a plaything, a victim of Eunbi's twisted love. His life, a living nightmare, was forever intertwined with hers.
- The End -
#kpop#kpop x reader#kpop x y/n#x male reader#beautiful#update#yandere#iz*one eunbi#kwon eunbi#eunbi#yandere blog#yandere girl#yandere stories
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Flames in the West (a sad lion)
- Summary: During the royal hunt in honor of Aegon's second nameday, you insult a lion and gain his attention.
- Paring: targ!reader/Jason Lannister
- Rating: Mature 16+
- Previous part: his rock
- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @oxymakestheworldgoround
The once-vibrant halls of Casterly Rock seemed unusually quiet—or so Jason Lannister thought as he trudged through them, his boots echoing against the stone floors. He hadn’t seen much of his wife in recent days, and what interactions they did have were… different. She wasn’t throwing her usual sharp jabs or teasing him with that infuriating yet captivating smirk. Instead, she had become polite. Reserved, even.
And Jason hated it.
He leaned against one of the arched windows overlooking the sea, a goblet of wine in hand and a deep frown etched into his features. The waves crashed against the cliffs far below, their rhythmic pounding doing little to soothe his growing paranoia.
Martyn Lannister strolled into the chamber, his easy grin in place as always. “There you are,” he said, plopping down into a nearby chair. “I was starting to think you’d fallen into one of the mine shafts.”
Jason didn’t reply, his frown deepening as he swirled the wine in his goblet.
Martyn raised an eyebrow, leaning forward. “You look positively miserable, cousin. What’s wrong? Did the kitchen run out of your favorite vintage, or did Sylveris decide to roast one of your prized banners?”
Jason sighed dramatically, his gaze still fixed on the horizon. “It’s Y/N.”
Martyn’s grin widened. “Ah, the dragon. What’s she done this time? Threatened to throw you off the battlements?”
“That would be preferable,” Jason muttered, finally turning to face him. “At least then I’d know she still cared.”
Martyn blinked, then burst into laughter. “She doesn’t care because she hasn’t threatened to kill you? You’ve lost me, Jason.”
Jason groaned, setting his goblet down on the windowsill. “She doesn’t insult me anymore. No jabs, no teasing—nothing. It’s like she’s ignoring me entirely.”
Martyn’s laughter grew louder. “That’s what’s bothering you? The lack of insults?”
“Yes!” Jason snapped, running a hand through his hair. “Don’t you get it? That’s how she shows affection—or at least, that’s how it used to be. Now she’s just… distant. Civil.”
Martyn leaned back in his chair, still grinning. “So, let me get this straight: your wife isn’t yelling at you or calling you names, and you’re upset about it?”
Jason shot him a glare. “You wouldn’t understand.”
“Oh, I understand perfectly,” Martyn said, smirking. “You’re addicted to her barbs, and now that she’s treating you like an actual lord, you don’t know what to do with yourself.”
Jason sighed again, pacing the room. “What if she’s found someone else?”
That caught Martyn off guard. “Someone else? What are you talking about?”
Jason stopped pacing, turning to face his cousin with a look of genuine worry. “Think about it. Why else would she stop paying attention to me? What if there’s another man?”
Martyn stared at him for a moment, then burst into laughter so loud it echoed off the walls. “Another man? Jason, you’re ridiculous.”
“I’m serious!” Jason protested, his voice rising. “She’s barely said a word to me in days, and when she does, it’s all ‘Yes, my lord’ and ‘Of course, my lord.’ That’s not her. She’s up to something.”
Martyn wiped a tear from his eye, still chuckling. “So let me get this straight: your wife, who’s carrying your child, is suddenly so bored with you that she’s taken a lover in the middle of your castle? Do you hear how absurd you sound?”
Jason crossed his arms, his jaw tightening. “It’s not impossible.”
“Jason,” Martyn said, his tone still laced with amusement, “you’re not just a lion. You’re a delusional lion. She’s probably just tired, or distracted, or—dare I say it—growing another person inside her.”
Jason hesitated, his resolve wavering slightly. “But what if—”
Martyn cut him off, rising from his chair and clapping a hand on Jason’s shoulder. “If there were another man, Jason, do you really think she’d be subtle about it? She’s a Targaryen. She’d probably introduce him to you just to watch you squirm.”
Jason groaned, running both hands through his hair. “You’re not helping.”
“I’m helping more than you deserve,” Martyn quipped, shaking his head. “Listen, just talk to her. Ask her what’s on her mind. Or, better yet, stop being so insufferable and give her some space.”
Jason frowned, muttering under his breath. “Easy for you to say. You’re not married to a dragon.”
Martyn grinned. “No, but watching you flail around like this is entertainment enough.”
Jason threw him a withering look before turning back to the window, his thoughts still tangled. Martyn clapped him on the shoulder one last time before heading for the door.
“Good luck, cousin,” he called over his shoulder. “You’re going to need it.”
Jason barely acknowledged him, his mind racing with possibilities. He knew Martyn was probably right—probably—but he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was amiss. And until he figured out what it was, he would remain the most miserable lion in all of Westeros.
The halls of Casterly Rock buzzed with quiet speculation as Jason Lannister, Lord of the Rock, embarked on what could only be described as an increasingly dramatic investigation. He’d spent the better part of the day questioning members of the household, demanding answers with the fervor of a knight preparing for battle.
“Have you seen anything unusual?” Jason asked a servant folding linens in the hallway. “Anything at all? A suspicious visitor? A secret meeting?”
The servant blinked at him, bewildered. “No, my lord. Only the usual.”
Jason frowned, muttering to himself as he moved on to his next suspect.
By mid-afternoon, he had interrogated a steward, a stable hand, and even the cook—each more confused than the last. His antics had not gone unnoticed by the rest of the household. By the time he cornered Martyn in the great hall, a small crowd had gathered to watch the spectacle unfold.
Martyn leaned against a pillar, arms crossed, his grin as wide as the Sunset Sea. “Still convinced your wife has a lover, Jason?”
Jason glared at him. “Something’s going on, Martyn. I can feel it.”
“Let me guess,” Martyn drawled, feigning thought. “She smiled at someone in passing, and now you’re ready to start a trial.”
Jason ignored him, pacing in front of the growing audience. “She’s distant, she’s quiet, and she hasn’t insulted me in days. There’s more to this.”
One of the younger cousins piped up, giggling. “Maybe she’s just tired, my lord.”
Jason stopped, turning to face the group. “Tired of what? Of me?”
The crowd erupted into laughter, and Martyn clapped him on the back. “If she’s tired of you, she’d let you know. Trust me.”
Jason sighed dramatically, raking a hand through his hair. “Fine. If none of you have answers, I’ll just have to ask her myself.”
Jason stormed into your chambers with all the subtlety of a lion on the hunt. You were seated by the window, staring out at the sea with a faintly pale complexion. A cup of mint tea sat untouched on the table beside you.
“Y/N,” Jason said, his voice firm. “We need to talk.”
You turned your head slowly, fixing him with a weary stare. “Jason. If this is about you imagining me plotting against you with some mysterious lover, I’ll save you the trouble. There isn’t one.”
Jason hesitated, his righteous determination faltering. “How did you—?”
“You’ve been stomping around the castle like a madman all day,” you said, cutting him off. “It wasn’t hard to guess.”
Jason frowned, stepping closer. “Then what is it? Why have you been so… different?”
You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. “If you must know, I’ve been battling the constant urge to vomit.”
Jason froze. “Vomit?”
“Yes, Jason,” you said dryly. “It’s a common occurrence in pregnancy. Did you not read any of those books I had sent to the library?”
Jason blinked, his mind struggling to process this new information. “You’re sick? That’s it?”
“That’s it,” you replied, sipping your tea carefully. “Though at this point, I wish I could throw up on you just to prove it.”
Jason’s reaction was immediate and utterly ridiculous. He sank into the nearest chair, his head in his hands. “Thank the gods,” he muttered. “I thought you hated me.”
You stared at him, incredulous. “You thought I hated you because I wasn’t insulting you every five minutes?”
Jason looked up, his expression sheepish. “Well… yes.”
For a moment, you were too stunned to respond. Then, you began to laugh—quiet at first, then louder as the absurdity of the situation sank in. “Jason,” you said between breaths, “you’re an idiot.”
The door creaked open, and Martyn poked his head in, grinning like a cat with cream. “I heard shouting. Did he finally figure it out?”
Jason groaned, running a hand through his hair. “Yes, Martyn. She’s not plotting against me. She’s just… nauseous.”
Martyn stepped fully into the room, his grin widening. “That explains a lot. Though I think we all enjoyed watching you spiral.”
“Get out,” Jason muttered, though there was no real malice in his tone.
Martyn chuckled, bowing mockingly before retreating. “As you wish, my lord.”
As the door closed, Jason turned back to you, his expression softening. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I’ve been an idiot.”
“You’re always an idiot,” you replied, though there was no bite in your words. “But you mean well.”
Jason smiled, reaching for your hand. “I’ll make it up to you. Anything you need—anything at all—you just tell me.”
You leaned back in your chair, a faint smirk tugging at your lips. “Right now, I need you to stop being so dramatic. Can you manage that?”
Jason chuckled, bringing your hand to his lips. “For you, my lady, I’ll try.”
The rest of the household, of course, was thoroughly entertained when word of Jason’s misunderstanding spread. But for now, the lion and his dragon had found their peace—even if it was only temporary.
The halls of Casterly Rock were bustling with energy right the next day, not because of any pressing matters of state or impending feasts, but because Jason Lannister had declared it his personal mission to ensure his wife’s comfort during her pregnancy. Naturally, his methods were anything but subtle.
It began in the early morning, when Jason burst into your chambers with a tray in hand. The tray was precariously balanced, piled high with everything from honey-glazed bread to a steaming cup of mint tea he saw you drink yesterday. Behind him, two nervous servants trailed, carrying pitchers of juice and an assortment of dried fruits.
“Good morning, my love!” Jason announced, grinning like a man who thought he was about to win a tourney.
You looked up from your seat by the window, arching an eyebrow. “Jason. What is this?”
“Breakfast,” he said proudly, setting the tray down on the small table beside you. “I had the kitchens prepare everything you might crave. If you don’t like what’s here, I’ll have them bring more.”
You stared at the tray, then back at him. “This is enough food for an entire household.”
Jason waved a hand dismissively. “You’re eating for two. You need options.”
“I don’t need options,” you replied dryly. “I need you to stop hovering.”
Jason clutched his chest dramatically. “Hovering? I’m not hovering. I’m attending to your every need, as any devoted husband should.”
Martyn, who had appeared in the doorway just in time to witness the exchange, coughed into his hand to hide his laughter. “Attending or smothering? It’s a fine line, cousin.”
Jason shot him a glare. “I don’t recall asking for your opinion, Martyn.”
“No, but I’m giving it anyway,” Martyn said, stepping into the room. “This is delightful. Please, carry on.”
Later that afternoon, you decided to take a walk in the gardens, hoping for a moment of peace. Naturally, Jason insisted on accompanying you. He hovered like a mother hen, holding your arm as though the slightest misstep might cause catastrophe.
“Jason,” you said, exasperated, “I’m pregnant, not made of glass.”
“I’m aware,” he replied, ignoring your tone as he guided you along the path. “But the ground is uneven, and I don’t trust these pebbles.”
You rolled your eyes. “The pebbles are fine. I’m fine. Please stop fussing.”
Jason opened his mouth to protest, but before he could, one of the younger Lannister cousins appeared with a mischievous grin. “My lord, I heard you’ve been quite the nursemaid lately.”
Jason straightened, his tone defensive. “I’m ensuring my wife’s comfort.”
“By hovering?” she teased, earning a snicker from Martyn, who had once again materialized to witness the scene.
Jason huffed, clearly outnumbered. “I’ll have you know, Y/N appreciates my efforts.”
You smirked, tilting your head. “Do I?”
Jason blinked, momentarily thrown off. “Of course you do. Don’t you?”
Before you could answer, a gardener approached with a bouquet of golden roses freshly cut from the garden. Jason seized the opportunity to present them to you with a flourish.
“For you,” he said, his grin returning. “To brighten your day.”
You accepted the bouquet, raising an eyebrow. “They’re lovely. Did you cut them yourself?”
Jason hesitated, glancing at the gardener before replying, “I… supervised.”
The group erupted into laughter, and even you couldn’t suppress a small smile.
That evening, Jason took his efforts to a new level by commissioning a troupe of performers to entertain you during supper. Among them was a juggler who insisted on incorporating live chickens into his act.
It did not go well.
As the juggler tossed the chickens into the air, one squawked loudly and escaped, flapping wildly around the hall. Guests ducked as the rogue bird swooped low, narrowly avoiding a platter of roasted venison.
Jason leapt to his feet, shouting instructions to the servants. “Catch it! Don’t let it ruin the feast!”
Martyn, sitting across from you, leaned back in his chair, thoroughly enjoying the chaos. “This might be your finest idea yet, Jason.”
Jason ignored him, lunging for the chicken himself. He missed, nearly colliding with a servant carrying a tray of wine goblets. You, meanwhile, sat calmly, eating your cake and watching the scene unfold with thinly veiled amusement.
When the chicken finally landed in the lap of an elderly aunt, who shrieked loud enough to rival Sylveris, Jason managed to grab it by the legs and hold it aloft like a trophy. The hall erupted into applause and laughter.
“Problem solved,” he declared, slightly out of breath as he handed the bird back to the juggler with a stern glare. “No more chickens.”
As he returned to his seat beside you, you leaned over and murmured, “Very heroic, my lord.”
Jason grinned, clearly pleased with himself. “Anything for you, princess.”
By the end of the day, Jason was exhausted but triumphant. He joined you in your chambers, watching as you settled onto the cushioned chaise by the fire.
“Well?” he asked, leaning against the doorway. “Did I succeed in making you more comfortable?”
You tilted your head, pretending to think. “Let’s see. You brought me enough breakfast for an army, made a spectacle of yourself in the gardens, and nearly lost a chicken during supper. I suppose you were… entertaining.”
Jason laughed, crossing the room to sit beside you. “Entertaining? That’s it?”
You smirked, leaning your head against his shoulder. “Don’t push your luck, Jason.”
He wrapped an arm around you, his grin softening into something more genuine. “As long as you’re smiling, I’ll take it.”
Inside the grand chambers, the fire crackled warmly in the hearth as Jason Lannister sat at the edge of a cushioned chair, scribbling furiously on a piece of parchment. His brow was furrowed in concentration, and his tongue poked out slightly—his signature thinking face.
You, reclining comfortably on the chaise with your ever-growing belly, watched him with equal parts curiosity and amusement. A plate of various fruits sat beside you, untouched, as you observed your husband’s peculiar intensity.
“Jason,” you finally said, breaking the silence. “What are you doing?”
He didn’t look up, waving the quill dismissively. “Coming up with names.”
“For the child?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.
“For our child,” Jason corrected, glancing up at you with a grin. “You know, the future lion-dragon of Casterly Rock. We can’t just call them ‘the baby.’”
You smirked, folding your hands over your belly. “And have you decided on anything?”
Jason held up the parchment triumphantly. “I’ve got a list!”
“Oh, this should be good,” you muttered, sitting up slightly. “Let’s hear it.”
Jason cleared his throat dramatically, as though preparing for a great performance. “If it’s a boy, I was thinking… Tylander.”
You blinked. “Tylander?”
“Strong, noble, and distinctly Lannister,” Jason said, clearly pleased with himself.
“Jason,” you said slowly, “that sounds like you mashed ‘Tyland’ and ‘Lannister’ together.”
Jason frowned. “Well, maybe. But it works, doesn’t it?”
“No,” you replied flatly. “Next.”
Jason sighed, glancing back at the list. “Alright. What about… Leorick?”
“Leorick?” you repeated, your tone incredulous. “It sounds like a name you’d give to a particularly pompous bard.”
Jason chuckled despite himself. “Fine. You’re a tough critic, my love. Let’s try another. If it’s a girl, I thought… Jasselle.”
You stared at him. “Jasselle.”
“Yes!” Jason said, his grin widening. “It’s elegant and unique.”
“It’s also clearly just your name with a few letters added and rearranged,” you pointed out.
Jason leaned back, his grin turning sheepish. “Well, I wanted to honor myself.”
You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head. “Jason, we’re naming a child, not commissioning a statue of you.”
“Fair enough,” Jason said, crossing out a few names. “What about something Valyrian? Like… Vezena?”
You tilted your head, considering it. “Not bad. But what does it mean?”
Jason hesitated. “Uh… probably something about fire and greatness.”
You smirked. “You just made that up, didn’t you?”
“Of course,” Jason admitted, grinning. “But it sounds impressive, doesn’t it?”
You rolled your eyes. “Barely.”
By midday, Jason had dragged a second chair closer to yours, the parchment now covered in scribbles and crossed-out names. Several servants passed through the room, their expressions carefully neutral as they overheard snippets of the increasingly ridiculous discussion.
“What about Caster?” Jason asked, tapping his quill against his chin.
“For a boy?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Or a girl,” Jason said with a shrug. “Unisex names are all the rage in Lannisport.”
You gave him a long, unimpressed stare. “Caster. Of Casterly Rock.”
Jason blinked. “Oh. Right. That might be a bit… redundant.”
“A bit?” you repeated, smirking.
Jason huffed, tossing the quill onto the table. “Fine. Your turn, oh wise one.”
You leaned forward slightly, meeting his gaze with a smirk. “How about something simple? Like Aelora, if it’s a girl.”
Jason’s expression softened. “Aelora. That’s… beautiful.”
“Thank you,” you said, smiling. “And for a boy, maybe… Daeryn.”
“Daeryn,” Jason echoed, testing the name on his tongue. “It’s strong. I like it.”
“Well, there we go,” you said, leaning back with a triumphant smile. “Problem solved.”
But Jason wasn’t done yet. “What if we combined them? Aelorick for a boy. Or… Daesselle for a girl?”
You groaned, covering your face with your hands. “Jason, stop.”
He laughed, leaning over to kiss the top of your head. “Fine, fine. But you have to admit, this is fun.”
“For you, maybe,” you muttered, though there was a faint smile on your lips. “At this rate, the child will be born before we agree on anything.”
Jason grinned, leaning back in his chair. “Well, we’ve still got time. And until then, I’ll keep working on my list.”
You rolled your eyes, but as you watched him return to his scribbling with boyish enthusiasm, you couldn’t help but feel a pang of affection. For all his dramatics, Jason’s excitement was genuine, and his love for you—and the child you carried—was as clear as the sun over Casterly Rock.
You sat by the window early in the morning, absently stroking the armrest of your chair as a servant placed a silver tray with your morning tea before you. The peace was broken when Jason burst into the room, a sealed parchment in hand and a grin plastered across his face.
“A raven!” he announced dramatically, holding the scroll aloft like a prized trophy.
You raised an eyebrow, taking a sip of your tea. “Jason, ravens come daily. Are we celebrating their flight now?”
“Not just any raven,” Jason said, striding to the table and dropping the scroll in front of you. “It’s from your father, the king.”
Your eyes flicked to the royal seal, and you picked up the parchment, breaking the wax with practiced ease. Jason leaned over your shoulder, reading the words as you did.
“An invitation,” you murmured, skimming the elegant script. “To a royal wedding. Rhaenyra and Laenor Velaryon.”
Jason clapped his hands together. “A royal wedding! That means feasts, dances, and—”
“Hours of tedious travel,” you interrupted, setting the letter down. “While I’m heavily pregnant, no less.”
Jason waved a hand dismissively. “Nonsense. We’ll take our time, and I’ll ensure you’re comfortable. We can’t miss this! Think of the grandeur, the spectacle—”
“The politics,” you added pointedly, arching an eyebrow.
Jason ignored you, already pacing as his mind raced with ideas. “We’ll need to start preparations immediately. The finest horses, the best wines to bring as gifts—no, the best gold. Velaryons love their ships, don’t they? I’ll have a golden trident commissioned. It’ll be perfect.”
You sighed, watching as your husband spiraled into a whirlwind of planning. “Jason, it’s a wedding, not a coronation.”
“It’s Rhaenyra’s wedding,” Jason said, spinning on his heel to face you. “Your sister. That makes it doubly important. We must arrive in style.”
The castle hummed with activity by mid-afternoon, thanks to Jason’s orders. Servants scurried about with rolls of fabric, crates of Lannister gold, and lists so long they trailed behind their carriers. Martyn, naturally, was in the thick of it, as he watched the chaos with an amused grin.
“Do you ever tire of creating a spectacle, cousin?” Martyn asked as Jason passed by, barking orders to a servant carrying a bundle of crimson cloaks.
“A spectacle?” Jason repeated, his tone affronted. “This isn’t a spectacle. This is preparation. A royal wedding requires a royal effort.”
Martyn smirked, glancing at the two knights polishing a gilded carriage nearby. “And the golden carriage?”
“For comfort,” Jason said, brushing off the sarcasm. “Y/N deserves nothing less.”
“She’ll love that,” Martyn muttered under his breath. “I’m sure she adores the idea of being paraded through the streets like a queen.”
Jason shot him a look. “She is the Lady of Casterly Rock. It’s only fitting.”
“Is that why you’ve ordered enough supplies to outfit a small army?” Martyn asked, gesturing to the growing pile of crates.
“Provisions,” Jason said firmly. “And gifts. You wouldn’t show up to a royal wedding empty-handed, would you?”
Martyn chuckled. “I’d show up with my sanity intact, which is more than I can say for you.”
By evening, Jason gathered the household in the great hall, standing at the head of the table with his usual flair for dramatics. You sat beside him, your hand resting lightly on your belly as you watched him address the room.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Jason began, raising a goblet. “We’ve been invited to the royal wedding of Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen and Ser Laenor Velaryon. This is not merely an invitation; it is an opportunity—a chance to remind the realm of the strength and splendor of House Lannister.”
The household exchanged amused glances, accustomed to Jason’s theatrical speeches.
“We will travel with dignity,” Jason continued, his voice rising. “We will bring gifts that reflect our status. And we will leave an impression so grand that even the dragons will be jealous.”
You leaned toward Martyn, whispering, “Do you think he rehearses these speeches in the mirror?”
Martyn grinned. “Absolutely.”
Jason, oblivious to the murmured commentary, finished his toast with a flourish. “To House Lannister and our journey to the royal wedding!”
The room erupted into polite applause, and Jason sat down beside you, looking thoroughly pleased with himself.
“You’re enjoying this far too much,” you remarked, smirking.
Jason grinned, raising his goblet. “Of course I am. It’s not every day we get to show your kin how it’s done.”
You rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress a small smile. For all his dramatics, Jason’s excitement was infectious—and you had to admit, the journey to King’s Landing promised to be anything but dull.
#house of the dragon#hotd#hotd x reader#hotd x you#hotd x y/n#game of thrones#asoiaf#a song of ice and fire#fire and blood#hotd jason#jason lannister#jason x y/n#jason x you#jason x reader#flames in the west#house lannister#house targaryen
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Okay I saw your korrasami x Reader fic and I loved it so much can’t wait for the next part. Whenever you have time would you be able to do a lil fic where Korrasami gets jealous/irritated the reader is being hit on? Maybe relationship isn’t established yet but the situation prompts them to confess 👀 have a good one!
Hi Anon! Thank you so much for the love! Second part of KorrAsami x Reader is out btw! (This post came out wayyy later than envisioned).
The Green-Eyed and Blue-Eyed Monsters | KorrAsami x Reader
╰┈➤ PLOT: Korra and Asami don't take it lightly when their shared crush gets hit on and when one thing leads to another, a confession ensures. ╰┈➤ WARNINGS: Jealousy, No Y/n, Not Proofread, Jealous Korra, Somehow Even More Jealous Asami, Oblivious Reader, Impromptu Confessions
⍣ ೋ Enjoy!⍣ ೋ
There was something in the summer air. Maybe it was the smell of the blooming flowers and fruits or the bustling sound of merchants advertising their fresh and homemade treats. Whichever or whatever it was, Korra and Asami weren't here for it.
People of all genders, shapes, and sizes kept complimenting you and making small talk. It was cute at first. The pair thought it was about time you were complimented for how you dress, how your skin glows under the sun's rays and your bright smile. But once the compliments became flirtier, they decided they had enough.
See, there's something Korra and Asami keep to themselves. Something that no one else, not even Team Avatar, knew about. And that was the pathetic crush they had on you.
They can't pinpoint when or how the crush developed, they just knew they had one on you and wanted you to be a part of their relationship.
You didn't notice the crush they had on you. They didn't act weird or out of character, and the compliments they gave you seemed normal. Something someone who's "just-a-friend," tells someone else who is also "just-a-friend".
Maybe your lack of understanding of flirtatious compliments is why you couldn't tell what these attractive strangers were doing. You thought they were being friendly!
"Asami, I'm reaching my limit," Korra said out the side of her mouth. The three of you were standing by a merchant booth. You wore clothes in that color that made Asami and Korra both crumble to their knees while the couple wore their typical summer gear. Turned out this Earthbender also liked that color on you, since she was flirting shamelessly with you in front of Korra and Asami.
"It's okay, Korra," Asami whispered to her girlfriend. "They deserve to be flirted with. They're cute and they're glowing a little more than usual today. It only makes sense that people saw it too."
"Yeah, but we're supposed to be the ones flirting with them!" whispered-exclaimed Korra, slamming her fists onto the merchant's counter. The elderly man scolded Korra and demanded she pay for the dent she made in the wood. "It was already there before, old man!"
The man raised a fist, scolding her more. Asami pulled Korra away from the booth, an apologetic smile on her face as she did so. "Korra," Asami spoke once they were distanced away from the elderly merchant. "We both agreed not to flirt with them until we got a signal that they liked us back."
Korra shrugged Asami's hands off her shoulders with her lips twisted in a scowl. "Well, I'm beginning to regret that agreement. It's stupid. How would they know we like them if we don't flirt?"
Asami shrugged. "I don't know. You're the one that made up the rule." She then snickered at Korra's incoherent grumbles and mumbles. "Look, just because you can't handle when people flirt with you, Kor, doesn't mean others can't either." Your voice is what saved Asami from an angry, yet flustered Avatar exclaiming protests.
"Hey, guys!" You greeted, the apples of your cheeks bright from how hard you were cheesing. "Why are we over there?"
Asami laughed, wrapping her arm around Korra's waist. "Because Korra was going to get into it with that older gentleman." You dramatically gasped, jaw slacked down to your chest.
"Please!" Korra protested with a laugh. "I didn't do anything. He was yelling at me about some dent that was already in his counter. He just wanted to con me into paying so he could get a new counter."
"Whatever the motive was," laughed Asami, "we moved over here to not cause a scene. Plus, it looked like you were getting all flirty with that girl anyway," the engineer teased.
You laughed. "Nah, she was just saying she loved my outfit and how it brought out the color in my eyes."
Korra's brows knitted together, arms crossed under her chest. "Yeah... that's flirting."
You only snicker as a rebuttal but Korra's face didn't change. You faced Asami but she wore the same expression. Was that girl really flirting? She kept spewing compliments and her eyes, well, they were super focused on you. Maybe even too focused? Her body was facing you and if you knew anything about body language, that meant she was interested in you or the conversation at least.
"Hey, excuse me?" A voice from behind you took you out of your thoughts. You turned on your heels to find a girl wearing an obnoxiously large jade necklace that she paired with her all-purple outfit. Even though the outfit was quite extreme, her tan skin made her glow and somehow, the different shades of purple just worked.
"Oh, hi!" You beamed a bright smile as you faced her. The same smile Korra and Asami worked tirelessly to see on your face day after day. The same smile Korra and Asami spoke about deep into the night when they finally succeeded in their attempts.
The couple loved your smile, how you showed off your teeth and gums, and how when it showed on your face, it was genuine and came from affection... So, why the heck was this smile on your face for this random girl?
Oh, jealousy. What an interesting and sometimes ugly feeling.
Asami's eyebrows knitted together, hands skeptically placed on her hips as she watched Jade Girl pull out a small basket of fruits from behind her back. They were bright, signaling how perfectly ripe they were, and there was an assortment of fruits, all the way from the Southern Water Tribe to where the Northern Air Temple once was.
"You don't have to accept this if you don't want to, but I saw you from the entrance of the market and knew I had to give you something. You're so pretty and deserved the fruits,"—her own laugh interrupted her sentence. Korra and Asami rolled their eyes—"of my labor!"
Somehow your smile brightened. The warmth of the sun sinking into your skin and now traveling up your body filled you with a buzz. What did you do to owe the pleasure? The people here sure were friendly. "Aw, thank you!" Your voice was a peculiar high pitch as you graciously accepted the basket, her purple manicured nails and slender fingers brushing against your fingers.
You would be lying if you said it didn't make you giddy.
"This is so sweet. Oh, wow. You even have jackfruit!" You showed the basket to Asami and Korra and the girls momentarily put on a smile as your attention was on them but then dropped when your attention returned to the beautiful stranger.
"Yes," giggled the woman with her hands clasped. "My family and I are, as some may say, wizards or magicians in the fruit department. It all started from my great-great-great-great grandfather, I think I missed a few greats, and his connection with Hei-Ran, Avatar Kuruk's firebending teacher. Y'know," she stepped closer to you and took a hold of your hands on the basket's handle.
Asami stepped forward protectively, hands in fists but Korra pulled her back by her shoulder with the shake of her head. Even if she was enjoying Asami's experience with the jealousy she's been feeling all day, stopping this interaction and maybe getting in trouble because of it, wasn't worth it.
Korra frowned at herself in disgust. Ew... Has she turned into Tenzin?
"I could take you for a tour of my family's orchard," continued the Jade-Fruit-Tan-Pretty Girl—Korra and Asami couldn't keep up with the adjectives they had for this extremely forward, go-getter type of woman—continuing to hold your hands and bounced on her heels as she spoke. "Maybe even as a date? If you're into that?"
The Avatar and engineer gave curious glances in your direction. Were you into that? A pretty girl shamelessly flirting with you, giving you gifts, and offering to give you a tour of her family's orchard that's been around since before you were even alive? Since before the great Aang was alive?
You gave the woman a flattered chuckle but pulled your hands away from hers. "Oh, wow, um." Suddenly, the heat and buzz the sun was giving you was too much, almost overwhelming and unnecessary as it scratched the back of your throat and made your cheeks glow in embarrassment. "Thank you but I'm afraid I'm going to have to say no. You're gorgeous and trust me, if this was any other circumstance i would say yes but I'm not really-- I don't--"
"Oh, my Spirits! Are you not into women? I'm so sorr--"
"No, no!" You waved your hands so fast in defense that you forgot you were holding the basket of delicate fruits. Korra used her airbending through muffled snickers and giggles to float the basket in her direction and placed it neatly at her feet. "I'm into women," you claimed a little too loudly. A few bystanders shot curious expressions your way but otherwise went about their day. "Trust me. I. Am. In. To. Women."
Watching you stumble over your words in an attempt to clear up the situation to the Jade Girl was amusing to watch, even Asami thought so. "At least one thing's clear," her green eyes met Korra's blue and without many words, they knew exactly what to say.
"They're into women," the two said simultaneously, finally letting their laughter and giggles break through their words. Your cheeks only warmed up more as you heard them in the background.
If you were trying to shoot your shot with this woman, you would have failed thanks to your fumbling and lack of charisma but luckily, you weren't. And double luckily, Asami's and Korra's laughter drowned out the real reason why you had to turn Jade Girl down and she left understandingly.
"Are you done?" you grumbled to the girls, picking your favorite fruit from the basket and inspecting it before taking a bite. You stood in front of them with your arms crossed and cheeks puffed out like an angry bunny.
Korra laughed, shoulders bobbing up and down as she wrapped her arms around her midriff. "I dunno," the Avatar's tone was heard through her laughs, "are you sure you're into girls?"
"Oh, shut up!" You threw a navel orange to her arm but she dodged it when she hurled over in laughter.
"We're sorry," Asami said in a horrible attempt of stifling her laughter. "It's too funny. If no one was sure of your sexuality before, they are now."
Korra cackled from her hunched-over position, collapsing onto her knees as she wheezed and wheezed. Watching her face turn from brown to a reddish-brown would be a sight to see if her maniacal laughter wasn't so alarming.
You thought with how hard she was laughing that she would forget to breathe but the opposite was true. She was breathing just fine, she was just dramatic, and watching you try to defend yourself was better than watching Bolin crash and burn in front of Opal. Sorry, Bolin.
Embarrassed yet pleased with how this situation seemed to make the two of them smile, you ate more of your fruit with a slight huff. "Yeah, yeah. Don't rub it in."
"Man." Korra finally pulled herself up from the ground with chuckles still coming out of her. Tears of laughter rolled down her cheeks and there were slight stains from them and the ground on her pants, but she didn't seem to care if she noticed. "That was great." She rested an arm on Asami's shoulder, still chuckling to herself as she brought her attention to you. "So, if your sexuality wasn't a problem, why did you turn that girl down?"
Huh. You quickly found out that you preferred her cracking a lung out on the street than her asking questions you didn't want to answer.
"Uhh," you grabbed your basket with a shy lipbite, "don't even worry about it."
"Uh, no?" Korra snorted. "I'm nosy and I want to know."
"Korra," Asami's warning tone fell upon deaf ears as the darker-skinned girl continued.
"Come on," whined Korra. "I'm the Avatar and you're a part of my team. I wanna know what's going on in my team's lives including their love lives."
Asami rose a brow at her statement. Korra never cared about anyone else's love life unless it somehow involved her.
...
Oh!
So, they were flirting with you now. Asami crossed her arms as smug as the smile that appeared on her lips. She could see the gears turning in your head and saw that you were so close to figuring Korra, and herself, out but weren't exactly there yet.
"She just wasn't my type," you admitted. You resumed your walk down the market, not expecting anyone to follow but given Asami's and Korra's reputation with persistence, you knew they would.
"And so what girl is your type then?" Asami prompted, she and Korra just a few steps behind you as you mindlessly swung your fruit basket.
Was this really how this was going to go down? You've envisioned this scene many times before and never have they gone down this way. This was supposed to be romantic, a moment to remember forever once you were sure you weren't going to freak them out with this.
"Because that Earthbender girl was pretty cute too," resumed Asami. "But you turned her down as well."
"To be fair, babe," Korra chimed in, "they didn't know she was flirting. They probably didn't know Jade-Necklace-'You're-So-Pretty' Girl was flirting either until she asked them out."
With her snort, you turned around swift on your heels and pointed at her. "Y'know, for someone in a relationship, you're weirdly obsessed with the people who may or may not be flirting with me."
Korra only gave you a nonchalant shrug. "So?"
"So, your girlfriend is right there!" You gestured to Asami who looked indifferent to the whole situation. She was interested in your love life too, for personal reasons just as much as Korra's, but she kept it under wraps better than her girlfriend. "Asami, aren't you at least upset by this?"
Asami mimicked the shrug Korra gave you seconds ago. "No."
"'No'?!"
"Yeah, 'no'," she snickered. "I'm just as curious as Korra and I don't see any harm in getting to know why you turned down every person that flirted with you today. They have eyes. They see the beauty I see in you every day."
"Okay, calm down," you awkwardly laughed. "Your girlfriend is right there."
"Oh, I know." Asami adjusted her crossed arms, her smugness still apparent in her body language. She even quipped a teasing, almost knowing brow. "She sees it too."
The confused, puzzled, and shocked noise that came out of your body made Korra chuckle as your eyes flickered to hers. She didn't know it was confession time until Asami blatantly flirted with you right in front of her, but she wasn't opposed. "Yeah. I think you're pretty cute."
"Excuse me?!" your voice was reaching the same volume and pitch you used when you tried to explain your sexuality to the jade girl but you couldn't help it. The people you were crushing on, who were in a relationship with each other mind you, were calling you beautiful and cute and not in the way friends do.
You may not pick up on flirting often, but you could pick up on the tones and vibes the couple was trying so hard for you to pick up on. How long were they trying to get you to notice? With how seamlessly Korra joined Asami on the compliment train, this couldn't be a first-time offense.
Asami took your questioning silence as a sign to keep going. "Honestly, today was kind of hard for us." The woman took an apple from the basket and rubbed it on the chest of her shirt. She took a bite, as if she wasn't about to share world-altering information with you. "Korra and I had to keep seeing and listening to these people flirt with you and compliment you--"
"Oh, I'm sorry--"
"Aht," Korra held up a finger, interrupting your interruption. "People with flirting with you should never be something you have to apologize for. Even if it upsets someone. You're attractive, it's about time people, even if they aren't us, act upon it."
You weren't given time to process what Korra said before Asami spoke again, after her bite of apple.
"Anyway, I was getting real tired of seeing these people flirt with you and all I could do was sit back and take it. Why? Because I, we, weren't sure how you felt about it. We didn't know if you didn't respond to our flirts because you were oblivious or uncomfortable and after today, it's clear you were oblivious.
"And so after Fruit Basket Girl, I've had enough. Korra and I spoke about this countless of times, night after night, but we still couldn't figure out a perfect way to tell you this." Asami wrapped her arms around her girlfriend who did the same to her.
Anticipation filled your body and soared through your veins. Asami ate more of her apple and basically left you hanging on a really thin thread, urging her to continue and aching for the rest of her answer.
The crushing weight of the anticipation was so large that even Korra nudged Asami to continue. "What?" the raven whispered down to her girlfriend. Korra shot a pointed look in your direction and Asami could only chuckle. "No, it's your turn. I've done my job."
Flushed cheeks and breath of heat, Korra huffed before standing straighter with a fist proudly resting on her hip. "Asami and I have a crush on you. A pretty big one. I guess this one couldn't take the jealousy anymore and impulsively wanted to confess to you right here, right now, in front of this poor woman's pickled goods stand."
The three of you drifted your gaze to a woman in her late 50s, huddled over on her wooden stool with an assortment of jars surrounding her counter, shelves, and even the back of her stall eyeing the three of you with green-framed glasses. "Oh," she waved you three off, smiling fondly. "Don't let my presence stop you. I got teenagers and they're never this open with me about their love life. This is entertainment."
Korra's jaw slacked in bewilderment before she protectively reached out to grab your arm to lead you and Asami out of the market and around the corner where no one but a stray dog drinking out of a water bowl was.
"Okay," Korra addressed the two of you. "Now that we have no other intruders, I guess that just leaves you to talk. Asami and I have a crush on you and we know this is coming out of nowhere but what do you think about that? Did we freak you out?"
If a future version of yourself were to tell you that all it took to get the ladies of your dreams was a market, a cute stranger, and a fruit basket, you wouldn't have believed them and yet, here you are. Standing in front of two smart, fierce women who fought and preserved to get whatever they put their minds to.
Who would've thought they wanted you in the way you wanted them?
Korra's and Asami's stomachs churned and stirred in nauseating anticipation, the feeling alone making their knees wobble like jelly and their minds dizzy.
Simultaneously, they had no thoughts and every thought known to man swirling around their head.
Their waiting for your answer made their mind go quiet yet their worrying over ruining their relationship with you made them think about anything and everything.
What if you didn't want to see them anymore? What if they read the situation wrong entirely and you never saw them in that light?
The two of them conversed about the stolen glances you would take at them, thinking they didn't catch you but they did each and every time you would look at them. They would see the way you would smile at the other when she was wrapped up in her own world and how you would get lost in one's eyes as they spoke in group settings.
They were sure they read every situation as what it was: you crushing back on them. But as you stood in front of them with an unreadable expression on your face, light brown basket playing at the tips of your fingers, doubts clouded their minds.
You finally blinked into reality when a stray piece of wood poked at your pointer thumb. "Whoa, sorry. Uh, I guess I'm just shocked. I never thought this day would come." Asami's and Korra's lips upturned into a smile as they saw yours do the same. "Yeah, I like you two goobers back. I didn't think it would take jealousy to get us here," you gave them a laugh. "If I would've known that, I would've gotten you jealous a long time ago."
The couple gave you dry laughs, wrapping their arms around your shoulders.
"Absolutely not," said Asami.
"You do that and you will go back to being girlfriend-less," said Korra.
You snickered as you were happily held between them as you made your way back home. "Wow. Tough crowd-- Hey!"
The stray dog came crashing into your fruit basket, making the woven item crash onto the ground and get stomped on as the dog pounced on it to feast on the fruit the basket possessed.
"My fruit." You frowned. Every single piece of fruit, if not squashed or ate by the seemingly perfectly-weight dog, was dirtied. Some fruit juice grew to make a stain in the beige-colored gravel.
"Good doggy," Asami cooed at it. Korra, though agreeing with her statement, swatted at her arm with a laugh. "What?" She glanced between the two of you. "That dog is eating what that girl left behind. We're together now, we don't need that jade girl's basket." She held her chin up high as if she was the queen but a playful smile hinted at the corner of her lips.
You and Korra shared a laugh before continuing your trek back home. The fruit was probably better off with the dog anyway. You probably weren't going to eat much of it when you got home, not if Asami's and Korra's jealousy had anything to do with it.
WC: 3,752
#pastel-peach-writes#pastel peach writes#gender-neutral terms#gender neutral terms#canon bisexual characters#avatar: tlok#avatar korra#avatar the legend of korra#the legend of korra#korra#legend of korra#asami x korra#asami sato#korra headcanons#korra fanfic#korra x you#korra x reader#korra x asami#asami x reader#tlok asami#asami#korrasami#korrasami x reader
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you must have this many dead friends to ride
it's TDOR (well, it was). unable to sleep, i read through all the deaths reported in the 2022-23 trans murder report (a year out of date, I don't think they've released this year's one yet.)
I'm not quite sure why i felt i should do this. if it's a gesture for the victims... well, if someone murders me one day, i don't think it will mean much one way or another if someone in faraway country reads a brief two sentence report that a 30-35 year old trans woman with 'other' occupation was found tied up with burn marks or something. nevertheless, it is the time of year for this ritual.
most of the deaths are reported in central and south american countries, largely due to reporting bias, though there's more reporting now from countries like India and Pakistan - almost nothing from east asia though, probably due to language barriers. it's hard to draw much of a conclusion about anything since many of the reports don't say much, the stats are subject to extreme sampling bias, etc etc. but the general types of story are: "her partner murdered her", "she was killed by gunmen on the street/in her house", "there was an argument and the other person decided to kill her over it", "the mob killed her for extortion reasons", 'her body was found in some awful condition", "the cops killed her" (including Tortugita, who they shot 57 times at the 'cop city' protest), and of course good old "explicitly anti trans hate crime" (which covers Brianna Ghey, the one death from my country, and several from the US).
my murdered sisters are in most cases very young. younger than me.
the statistician in my brain wants me to acknowledge that i don't know the degree that trans women are specifically subject to murder for being trans women or by abusive partners etc, and how much it's "just" about being poor and racialised and living in a place where paramilitaries, gangs etc routinely murder people. sex work is a dangerous line of work for many reasons, but it's also going to be the case that a lot of us are sex workers so even if we were all equally likely to be murdered, a huge number of the dead would be sex workers, just as many of them were beauticians.
but honestly, even bearing that in mind, a whole lot of sex workers were killed.
there is something particularly ghoulish in talking so drily about death statistics; the website uses the painful phrase 'concerning trend' in regards to the demographics of people killed (overwhelmingly trans women, sex workers and not white), as if a perfectly proportional series of murders would be less 'concerning' somehow, but what exactly are you supposed to say? it is of course a window into who a society is comfortable getting rid of, but we already knew that. there's a reason that a sex worker is the go-to plot-inciting murder victim in fiction.
collating death reports like this... in part it is done as a matter of political advocacy, saying 'look, we are being murdered by the hundreds [multiplied by some nebulous but significant underreporting factor]'. but of course, if that's our goal, we are holding our deaths up against, for example, the tens of, likely hundreds of thousands of people killed by violence in Gaza, Sudan and Ukraine in the last year - events which have already divided the world into people who can't stop it, and people who can but don't care to. and what do we want done about it? to beg the state to come down and apply its monopoly on violence more stringently? often the police are the ones killing trans women.
so what remains is ritual. we light candles, and read out the names of strangers who nevertheless have this one important thing in common with us, the ~global community~ of trannies and such - this was a person who refused to take the awful role they were given, asserted their own will to change their body, managed to live a life at least partly on their own terms, and then got killed over it.
but we don't have time to tell the life story, no time to describe the mess of relationships and aspirations that drive a life; there is no time to imagine what feelings we shared, what they enjoyed, what stories we might have laughed about if we'd known each other...
we have time for 'found dead in a car'.
if that.
in my country, we face a very different threat distribution - i don't really expect anyone i know to get murdered (though it's not impossible, there are people I'm close to who have been viciously attacked and there was little to do to stop the attacker coming back), but I'm sure Fall won't be the last of my friends to die by suicide. if we are 'fighting like hell for the living', our project here is more about trying to build lives that are worth living for, and weathering whatever fashy deluge is coming down the political pipes. what does fighting like hell even mean here? i think i used to think i knew.
but this night at least, I'm remembering my friend Fall, who we lost back in 2022. I made this page about her, and the feelings that came up from her death, with writing from friends who knew her better than me. I'd be grateful if you read it and helped some part of her memory live on. (apparently they wrote a little memorial for her in the recent translation of Shōnen Note: Boy Soprano which she worked on.)
I never got to ask what Fall thought of all these TDoR rituals - it's one of many things I didn't get to talk to her about and I bet she'd give me something unexpected to think about, formed some ingenious connection. or maybe she didn't think much of it! but it's as good a reason to think of her as any. she was awesome, she should have been given a much better hand by this world, and it is more shit for not having her in it.
I bet the friends of any of the 321 people on that list, and everyone on this year's list, would be able to say something pretty similar.
entropy always gets its way. but I'll hold onto what I can of her, my fragment of her ghost, for as long as we can. i guess that's the point of the ritual. hold onto our ghosts. tell each other that, one day, they'll stop accumulating so fast.
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Sam/Bucky + “catastrophe”
also on AO3
Bucky knows that he fucked up the exact second that he steps through the door. Usually, even with decidedly more significant fuck-ups, it takes at least a few steps before the extent of his mistake is clear. This time, it rushes up to meet him on the porch, the air thick with the smell of baking: butter and burnt sugar and fresh bread.
When he'd caught a whiff of it in the front yard, he'd hoped it was from a neighbor's house, that maybe there was a bake sale or birthday party to justify it, but he'd known even then that that wasn't the case.
He leaves his boots by the door, hanging his jacket up in the hallway closet the way he almost always forgets to do. His backpack and go-bag get tucked away in a corner to be dealt with later, and Bucky tells himself that that's just for convenience and not because he'd have to cross the kitchen to get to the laundry room.
It's an argument that's a little bit undercut when Alpine slinks her way down the hall, immediately winding around his legs and clamoring for his attention, and the first thing that Bucky does is lean over and peek at the kitchen to gauge whether Sam heard either of them. He can't tell from where he's standing, so instead he sits on the ground and lets Alpine perch herself in his lap, butting her head up into his hand until he relents and gives her chin scratches.
"It's bad, huh, baby?" he asks, kissing the top of her head. She lets out a soft noise and noses at his hand again, which Bucky takes for a yes. "Has he been baking all morning?"
He doesn't need an answer from Alpine for that one. From where he's sitting, he's got a line on the dining room, where he can see two pies and a pan of what might be cinnamon rolls cooling on the table.
"Maybe I should've brought home flowers," he muses. "I just didn't want to wait. I skipped the debrief so I could get here faster." Yelena had complained about providing a mission report on her own, but she'd also told him to make his hair less of a catastrophe before Sam broke up with him, which was as close to approval as Bucky was going to get.
There's another soft noise from Alpine, and he's fairly certain that she's about to curl up on his leg, but then the oven timer goes off and she startles, letting out a yowl in protest and scampering away. She gives him a look of betrayal as she slinks up the stairs and Bucky huffs in response.
"What, now you're mad at me, too?" he asks, but she doesn't so much as glance backwards.
Without the excuse of Alpine, Bucky is out of reasons to linger out of sight, but he waits for another moment, listening to Sam move around their kitchen. There's a rhythm to how he opens and closes the cabinets, a familiar music in the clatter of his measuring cups and the way-too-big metal bowl that he finds every excuse to use. No matter how chilly a reception awaits him, just being able to hear Sam makes something slot back into place in Bucky's chest, the remedy to a quiet and persistent ache that he's felt for the better part of six months.
He pushes up off the floor and crosses into the kitchen to find Sam at the stove, peering critically down at something in a saucepan. When he opens his mouth to speak, Sam holds up a hand to stop him without looking away from what he's cooking on the stove.
"Not yet," he says, and Bucky closes his mouth with an audible click. It shouldn't be such a relief, but hearing Sam talk to him at all does wonders to ease some of the tension out of him. Sam doesn't acknowledge him beyond that, swirling the pan a few times before he turns off the burner and slides the pan off the heat.
Bucky distracts himself from the urge to talk by taking in the kitchen. It's reasonably neat, in spite of the evidence of hours of baking. From where he stands, Bucky can see the window boxes that he and Sam talked about, already bursting with herbs. There's a wheelbarrow full of soil in the backyard, waiting beside the raised planting bed that Bucky had only seen in sketches before he left.
He feels Sam's gaze settle on him while his head is turned towards the window, and he does his best not to squirm under the weight of it. Once, when they were still working together in the field, Bucky told Sam that he needed to get better at letting people sweat it out so they would give up information more easily. Sam had argued at the time, rightly pointing out that his friendly chatter usually was much quicker to disarm people, but apparently he's had time to hone those sweating-it-out skills in the months that they've been separated.
Still, Bucky knows a thing or two about patience. He spent the better part of a war lying in wait in a sniper's foxhole, and he spent years watching as his nebulous thing with Sam slowly transformed from acquaintance to friendship to the kind of love that he never thought he'd get to have.
He stays quiet, taking in the changes to the house and the backyard, and when he catches Sam uncrossing his arms and leaning back against the counter, he expects to hear literally anything except for the actual words that come out of Sam's mouth.
"Can you just come here, please?" he asks, and when Bucky looks over at him in shock, his arms are already open.
Bucky doesn't need to be asked twice. He's in Sam's arms in the space of a breath, face buried in Sam's neck as he tries to ignore the sting behind his eyes and the lump in his throat. It's only when he wraps his arms around Sam and feels him slump forward against Bucky that he realizes how tightly Sam was holding himself until now.
"I missed you," Sam croaks, and Bucky's fairly certain that he feels a tear or two soak into the collar of his t-shirt.
"I really thought you'd be more angry at me," says Bucky. "I mean, I'm not complaining, but--"
"Oh, I'm furious," says Sam mildly. "I just also missed you. Like, a lot. Way more than I should have, considering how annoying you are."
"I can work with that," says Bucky, pulling away just enough to chance a look at Sam's face. His dark circles are bad, and Bucky feels retroactively guilty about all the nights that he couldn't soothe Sam back to sleep when the worry woke him up.
"I also just wanted to make sure you weren't injured before I chewed you out," says Sam, and it's only then that Bucky clocks that Sam's wandering hands have been less about copping a feel and more about checking for bruised ribs and dislocated shoulders.
"I'm fine," Bucky says, frowning as he skims his fingers over a mostly-healed cut on Sam's forehead. "What's this?"
"Turns out cherry blossoms are less nice when you're being thrown at them face first," says Sam, waving a hand. "Stop trying to distract me."
(But he tilts his head just slightly towards Bucky anyway, and doesn't protest when Bucky presses a kiss to it.)
"I'm not distracting you," says Bucky. "You can ream me out whenever you want. I won't even interrupt you."
"If you're gonna lie, at least make it believable."
Bucky huffs. "Fine. I won't interrupt you that often."
"Better," says Sam, and Bucky can hear his smile even with his eyes closed.
When Sam doesn't pull away after another long moment, Bucky gives his waist a gentle squeeze. "Am I being subjected to a Sam Wilson lecture or not? Shouldn't there be fire and brimstone by now? I punched a car."
"You did not just punch a car, Bucky; you decided that the best way to deflect a whole ass SUV flying through the air was with your body and one single fist," says Sam, but in spite of the heat in his voice, he doesn't move away. "Your stupidity will keep, and so will my feelings about it. Just...just give me a minute, okay?"
"Okay, sweetheart," murmurs Bucky, bowing his head to kiss Sam's jaw. "Ready when you are."
"Okay," says Sam, and stays exactly where he is.
#sambucky#listen I saw that shot in the trailer and I had THOUGHTS ok#idk if I can officially make this part of the home decor specific fic universe since there's just stray refs to gardening#but spiritually this is a sequel to spring swaps snow for leaves#sambucky fanfiction#sesamestreep#zainab does ask meme things#my fic
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Here’s a sort of…. Prompt? Headcanon? Idea?? For Danny Phantom.
Let’s go with the,, semi-fanon idea of cores. We see the Far Frozen with ice powers, with their whole little civilization. They are ALSO the only ghosts we see that have any medical knowledge.
So what if ghosts with ice cores had healing powers? Danny is very durable, but he also (probably) has advanced healing.
Idk, it’d be a fun possibility to explore Danny ‘plays as a tank in irl superheroics 4 times out of 5’ Phantom finding out he can heal people while doing a school-mandated cpr class.
#danny phantom#dp#bonus points if it’s just shy of necromancy but that might be a different turn#did my school do mandated cpr training? no. but we did do mandated self defense training so. I imagine it’s possible#I have made a story or two where Danny had healing powers#but up to you how they work#and technically the way I made them in this one story was an indirect use of two different powers#I can explain if someone is SUPER curious but this particular. prompt? is like#him DIRECTLY having healing powers#he’s just hovering his hands and lil glowy snowflakes start drifting down and healing the person#Tucker is like Oh Hey This Means I’ll Just Go To Danny For Medical Stuff#the b plot is getting Tucker to get his damn shots… cartoon logic says somehow he gets them done at the vet#it just popped into my head you don’t gotta do that lol#Sam meanwhile is like. hm. homeopathy bc she’s not. AGAINST doctors and medical schools per se#but she’s protesting something or another about them#probably concerns about medical mistreatment#meanwhile Danny is like I Did Not Agree To Be The Medic!#he’s played video games okay HE KNOWS HOW THAT GOES DOWN.#…. I also really like battle and field medics in general in fiction so this is me and my blatant attempts for More Of That#feel free to crossover but just by itself it seems fun :3
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i went to a tiny counterserve diner once and accidentally poured sugar instead of salt all over my hashbrowns and was eating them sadly anyways. the waitress took them away and started making me another one and I tried to protest, but she just snorted and said "we're not catholic here". now every time i'm doing something painful out of obligation i think about how that is not repenting, this body is not a catholic establishment, there is no nobility in suffering.
#edit: i know i did not invent the phrase no nobility in suffering#holy fuck this hit 50k are we all. doing okay.#please stop telling me about sweet latkes i knOW about them#this was a terrible horrible accident involving a sugar shaker with a very large opening that i mistook as being a salt shaker#there was a quarter cup of white granulated sugar on my hashbrown before i could even process my mistake
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Love how I can ruin something so easily
#actually id say love how depression can do so but i dont have to behave irritably just bc my brain feels unmoored and unhappy for no good#reason. i dont have to make it everyone elses problem#i wasnt trying to! but i cant communicate hey i feel like x and thats making me feel y and i dont know what to do about it#i just.. why dont they ask 'Why?' when i get like that. i want them to notice that I'm acting uncharacteristically and say something so that#i can go oh yeah thats dumb and idk why sorry yeah#but theyre reacting like its not obvious when i pointed out that this happens and that i want them to ask me 'why'#yeah is it fair to expect that if them? no. but idk what else to do abt it bc i am incapable of makingany other decision#im ANGRY#I'm disappointed i didnt get to be here for the yard sale and help them#I'm frustrated i had to be at work even though i was superfluous there today#I'm disappointed and frustrated that they dont want to try a yard sale again another week#like maybe a warmer and nicer weekend and puttinf more signs up will result in more traffic to the yard sale!#theyre giving up on it and i wanted to do a yard sale and didnt get to bc i had to be at work instead and now i wont gwt to again bc they#dont want to plan another yard sale bc theyre exhausted by it#i missed out and i wanted to do a yard sale so bad and didnt get to be here for it!#I'm frustrated that qe wont do another yard sale#and I'm unhappy that they didnf trust that i could clean up and brinf stuff inside at least like theyre tired so why are they doinf the work#let me help! i want to feel like i helped! I'm useless i dont do anything! but i was fold i cant do it on my own and wouldnt know where they#wanred to put stuff#like yeah i cant move the tables on my own into the shed. fine. but the boxes of stuff??? she could have come and directed me instead!#so like. fine i wont help. and then i got up and came to fuckinf help anyway even tjo apparently i wouldnt have done it right on my own#and shes like that attitude wasn't helpful like neither was what you said!#i know I'm not smart or helpful and just an annoying tag-alonf overgrown child but i wanted to do something#if it was my oldest sister insisting she could do it they wouldnt have protested!#whatever I'm stupid and reactive and i could have said like that makes me feel like u think i cant help and that feels shitty#whatever#I'm just. i hate existing its too frustrating and complicated and i havw no choice in the matter and i want to just curl up in bed and do#nothing and go nowhere and not talk to anyone and not do my medication bc i wont have insurance if i dont go to work bc i wont have the job#which means i can never do that bc unfortunately the result of not taking my medication scares me more than i hate having to be a person#i hate being a person but being sick is infinitely worse so
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Husband! Nanami with his Pregnant wife
cw: nanami x f!reader, pregnant sex, masturbation, nanami loves his wife nsfw under the cut!
sfw
Once you become pregnant with Kento Nanami’s child you don’t lift a finger.
Even if you wanted to.
This man would be at your beck and call all 9 months of your pregnancy.
You wake up every morning to a big breakfast and a smoothie chock full of all the veggies and fruits you need to stay healthy.
Daily footrubs!
And back rubs.
Says it’s to alleviate your aches and pains, but he secretly loves any reason to touch his beautiful wife.
Don’t even THINK about reaching for anything too high.
He’s rushing towards you, resting his hand on the small of your back as he reaches for the mug.
“Please dear, allow me.”
Dropped something?
“I’ve got it, honey.”
Need to put your shoes on? He’s resting your foot on his knee as he ties your sneakers.
There for every doctor’s appointment. Cries the first time he sees the ultrasound.
Is so patient with you, handling you with such care through your mood swings.
“It’s alright dear, I know you’re frustrated… Come sit down and I’ll rub your shoulders hmm?”
Has no problem waking up in the middle of the night to get you your midnight cravings.
Arguably the perfect husband.
nsfw
He thought it was physically impossible for you to be any more attractive.
But then he sees you drinking a glass of water in the kitchen, one hand resting protectively over your bump in a beautiful flowy dress he had gotten for you.
Feels ashamed at first. He doesn’t wish to bother his darling wife, especially when she’s going through so much.
Resorts to locking himself in the bathroom, rutting his hardened length between his fist and sucking in a breath as he imagines your swollen breasts and belly round with his seed.
Bites back a moan as his cum spills from his flushed tip down his hand and shaft.
He doesn’t get away with it for long though, you’re too smart. It’s one of the reasons he fell for you.
Not giving him time to protest, you grab his large hand and lead him to your bedroom.
He wants to tell you not to worry about him and his trivial needs, that he worries he might hurt you.
All those restraints die in his throat when he sees his precious wife climb on top of him, sliding down onto his length.
“O-oh… darling” he purrs, enraptured by the way your breasts bounce with each movement. He gives them a gentle squeeze, loving how sensitive you’ve become.
His honey-colored eyes glaze over as pleasure washes over him, painting your walls white.
Secretly wondering how long you should wait before he gives you another child.
#jujutsu kaisen#kbwrites#jjk#nanami kento#nanami headcanons#nanami smut#nanami x reader#jjk smut#jjk fanfic#jjk x reader
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it's that same summer when you're at the gojo summer estate, the one near the sea. you're still teens, long before gojo became arranged!gojo.
your last encounter with gojo was something you brushed off. but gojo couldn't stop thinking about you. you were this puzzle he didn't know how to figure out. this war map that no matter how long he looked at it, none of his past strategies were making sense.
but the two of you go about your usual routine. he's with his friends, and you stick to yourself.
or at least you tried to.
gojo's mother, the lady of the gojo family, was an earnest and strict woman. everybody knew that she wasn't one for games or jokes. she rarely smiled and rarely, rarely, laughed. you, along with all the other kids, knew to bow extra low whenever greeting her. she seemed to carry more power than her husband, but she didn't seem to find an issue with that.
but for a woman who was so keen on tradition, she seemed to care about you a lot more than the other children.
when she spoke to you, her eyes softened. her voice was gentler, more caring. your sisters especially grew annoyed at this, trying to butter up to her even more, but she seemed to harbor this sort of kindness only towards you.
you didn't question this either. it must be some form of pity, but you appreciated it nonetheless. sometimes you pretended like she was your actual mom, but then you quickly shook that thought away, chiding yourself for thinking something so childish.
this sort of gentleness she had with you turned into her trying to include you in things. some days it would be having tea with you when the other adults were having tea somewhere else, or sometimes she'd plan a little dinner with you where you could get dressed up and act like a lady.
tonight, however, she seemed to think that the best way she could include you was to include you in the group of the other kids, a gentle and guiding hand on your protesting back.
"really, i like the library," you insist, but it couldn't be farther from the truth. you had been inside the library for so many hours that you could blink and those high walls filled with books would be seared into your vision.
"nonsense," she tells you, her blue eyes and white hair looking down at your form as she waves it off, "the kids are outside near the fire. they'd be delighted to have you."
you cringe a little bit, wondering if she was just as daft as her son.
but she had found you near the fireplace, trying to stick its warmth as you hunched over yet another book. she decided that enough was enough, you should be out with the other kids.
so you couldn't say much to the woman who was hosting your family to argue, letting her lead you outside the grand patio and into the overbearing fields that led out to the sea, you soon saw the fire crackling away, the sound of laughter filling your ears.
some of the kids who were facing the two of you nudged the other ones to turn around, looks of confusion on their faces as the noblest lady of the land led a quivering you closer to them.
the usual look of caring she had whenever she was with you melted away, turning to something icy as the two of you neared the group. her hand on your back was still present, but you wished that it could somehow push you deep into the ground where you could hide forever.
her eyes looked over the group until they fell on her son, gojo, and narrowed.
everybody's eyes bounced from you over to her.
"there should be room for one more, yes?" she asks, and all the kids quickly nod, moving over on the logs that they had created into makeshift seats as they scrambled to make space for you.
you wondered what it was like to command such respect from people, what it must be like to have people actually listen to you.
she nudges you forward a little bit and you glance up at her one more time, a sort of useless plea as she encourages you to sit down.
you take a deep breath, offering them all an apologetic smile as you slowly sit on a log, your legs cramming together to make yourself seem as small as possible.
you watched as she walked back through the patio, talking to a maid as she motioned over to your group, saying something you couldn't make out, and you looked back to the other kids, the ones you had barely spoken a couple words to, and wince.
"sorry," you say slowly, your hands fidgeting non-stop in your lap as you laugh awkwardly, wishing you could just drop dead.
you can see your sisters seething in the corner, rolling their eyes as they sneer. the other kids nod at you just as tensely, and you wonder how disrespectful it would be if you just went back inside.
you feel a pair of eyes searing in the side of your face, and you look slightly to your right to see gojo staring at you, his eyes slightly squinting, just as his mother did.
you swallow thickly, picking at your nails as you send him a small smile before looking back down at your lap.
you could still feel him looking at you, but you chose to ignore it.
gojo doesn't really know why his mother liked you so much, but he never truly questioned her. she treated you with a tenderness he never saw her treat anybody (aside from him) with. he sometimes saw the two of you sharing tea with each other, other times hearing her laugh whenever you cracked a joke. something unusual for both of you.
his eyes look at your face, taking in the way you duck your head to seem smaller than you are. your eyes avert any contact, teeth gnawing on your already chewed-up lips. gojo looks at your hands, at the way you pick at your nails. he looks at your dress and sees the way the seams are fraying, the initial shape of the dress looking a little bit unfitting on you. almost as if it wasn't made for you specifically. his eyes narrow in more as he pieces it together. the dress is a hand-me-down from your older sister. not because your family couldn't afford a new dress, of course not, but to remind you of your place.
he feels a sting in his chest.
slowly the conversation with the group goes back to usual, the other kids pretending that you weren't there. gojo could feel the arms of one of the girls latched around his, her body pressing into his side as she tried to get closer to him. he wanted to shove her away, but didn't want to make a scene right now.
one of the girl shifted the talk to the topic of couples, talking about how she saw this husband and wife in town the other day who seemed to actually like each other.
one of your sisters, mei, snorts, shaking her head at the idea.
"us girls either marry an old man or a slightly older one," her eyes look over to you, "there's no in-between."
everybody grimaces at that, her other sister, yume, shoving her shoulder roughly at the crude statement.
"what?" mei scoffs, sitting back up as she nudges her chin to you, "she is."
yume gives her a warning look, one that's clearly saying she's saying too much, but mei doesn't seem to care much. everybody stirs, their heads craning with the thrill of gossip.
gojo looks at you and wants to see what you think about all this, but you're so far in your own world that you don't notice the commotion that seems to be directed at you.
mei calls your name, trying to grab your attention, and your head shoots up, brows furrowed to see who needs you.
"right?" she asks, knowing you don't know the answer.
you look around again, wondering if she was just trying to be funny.
"what?" you ask finally.
"you have to marry someone older, yeah?" mei presses, her eyes gleaming as your confusion melts away into one of embarrassment, looking at yume to see if mei was really serious.
of your two sisters, mei was always the mischievous one, if you could even call her cruelty that.
gojo sits up slightly, his brows scrunching up together a little bit at the mention of this. nobody had heard of any marriage offers, especially this early. you were still underage. who...?
you scratch at your neck, heat rising to your cheeks at the sudden attention on you.
"it was just an offer," you say through clenched teeth, shooting mei a look as she just smiles smugly. she knew she'd never have to deal with this.
"who?" one of the guys asks.
"nobody," you say quickly, waving it off as you rub a hand over your face, wondering if you threw yourself on the fire if that would help.
"naoya!" mei says instantly, your eyes widening as she reveals this very secret thing that even your father was trying to keep hushed away. you feel your stomach drop, eyes stinging in embarrassment as gasps echo around the group.
"isn't he...?" one of the girls tries to do the math, seeing how much older he already is.
"i heard he wants children," another girl adds, giving you a look of attempted sympathy but it just looks like a wince, "like, a lot of children."
you shut your eyes, rubbing at your aching forehead. you look briefly at gojo, only to see him looking incredulously at you. he's the only one who doesn't seem to be talking in a shocked or excited tone.
everybody gets excited about a terrible marriage offer when it's not them who have to offer themselves up.
he's studying you, seeming to be the only one who sees the way your chest is heaving, as if you're struggling to breathe. or the glossy look in your eyes, the way you dart them away so nobody can see. gojo looks over at mei, at the way she looks satisfied for delivering her piece of gossip for the night,
at your expense.
he doesn't know why he feels the way he does, or why he drags the girls arm away from him as he stands up, shrugging his coat over his frame as everybody suddenly looks at him.
but he's only looking at you.
"i forgot to give you your blanket from last week." he says simply, his voice heavy and coarse, as if he hadn't used it in a while, "come with me,"
well, he never said he was good at lying.
but he puts a steady arm on your shoulder, helping you stand up as you shoot him a confused look, letting him lead you away as the silence behind you becomes defeating.
you wipe at your nose, sniffling silently as he leads you through the grassy field.
he glances down at you. this is the second time the two of you have been alone, and the first time he's ever seen you on the verge of tears.
"thank you," you murmur thickly, rubbing at your eyes with your palms as you laugh wetly, "she wasn't supposed to say..." you trail off, looking away from him in embarrassment.
gojo guides you up the porch, behind a long marble pillar where the two of you are away from the other's curious stares.
he's never been good at comforting people, but he's never wanted to more than now.
"she's right, though," you say through a stutter, arms crossing at your chest as if that's what gojo was thinking about, "naoya, he-" you can't finish the sentence, the reality of it too heavy for you.
naoya proposed a month ago. a marriage offer for when you turn of age. he was desperate to find a wife, but not too many women were desperate to make him their husband. but your father needed the alliance, and your father's wife needed you away, so they swiftly agreed to it.
gojo's hand still hasn't left your shoulder, and he gives it a small squeeze.
"i'm sorry about this," you motion to yourself, laughing humorleslsy, "i didn't mean to...gods, i just...i don't want to be his w-wife," you admit quietly, shaking your head as you hide your face in your hands, "i-i don't want to have his children."
gojo feels bile rise to his throat at the thought of that.
he's only seen you twice. why does he care so much about what happens to you?
"somebody else will come along," he says in a whisper, and you look at him through your fingers, dropping them to your side as you blink slowly, rubbing at your cheeks.
"no good man wants to marry me," you tell him quietly, without any trace of pity for yourself, something that was simply the truth, "if not naoya, then another variant of him."
gojo leans down slightly to level with you, his lips pressed into a thin line.
you don't know why he's so close, or why he looks more worried for you than anybody else has. you shrug him off of you, trying to collect yourself as you peer through one of the large windows that look inside the estate.
"you can get rid of that blanket," you mutter, eyes darting from the window to his stunning blue ones, ones that make your knees slightly weak, "i was going to knit a new one anyways."
you bid your farewells, nodding lowly at him as you find your way inside.
gojo watches your back, looking back at the group as he runs a hand through his hair, gripping at his white locks in frustration.
he doesn't know what he's feeling. he doesn't know why he wants naoya suddenly dead. he doesn't know why he's not going to listen to what you just asked him to do, or why he wants to hold onto that blanket.
gojo doesn't know why you suddenly infiltrate his every waking moment, or why he needs to see naoya buried alive just so that you wouldn't have to marry him.
he doesn't know the answer to any of these things. but he doesn't know if he wants to.
#arranged!gojo#gojo x reader#gojo x you#gojo x reader angst#satoru x reader#satoru x you#gojo satoru x reader#gojo angst#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk angst#jjk drabble#gojo drabble
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Lightning - Tyler Owens (smut)
I mean, we all knew this would happen. I haven’t seen the movie yet, but I am DESPERATE for him. And as somebody who actually has something to do with studying tornadoes, I had to write this. I am obsessed with this fic, but I doubt this will get much attention, so please actually reblog it if you enjoyed reading it! Enjoy my loves. xxx
Summary: Tyler and the reader are chasing tornadoes together, but when they have to step back and find shelter, things quickly change between them.
Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, handjob, kinda enemies to lovers, teasing and all that fun stuff
Pairing: Tyler Owens x fem!reader (3k words)
Wind was blowing in her face, letting her strands dance in the air while her eyes flickered between her laptop screen and the dark sky. She was surrounded by her team, trying to ignore their shouts as they decided which direction to head in. (Y/n) was torn between too many options, not liking the way this afternoon was playing out.
It was do or die, miss or hit one of the biggest tornadoes they had come across in a while. And yet the second cell that was currently forming gave off a somewhat more promising chance of catching enough data this time around.
“Which way will it be, lightning?” Her breath hitched in her chest as he mumbled the words, front pressed against her back. The hairs on her arms began to rise, fully focused on his closeness, allowing her to pick up on the scent of his familiar cologne, on the way his breath fanned over the back of her neck as if he was about to kiss that very spot.
“Am I dreaming? Is Tyler Owens asking for my opinion?” She slowly turned towards the handsome man. Her eyes instantly found his piercing ones, getting lost in their intense gaze while he shot her one of his signature smirks. Fuck, if he weren’t such an asshole most of the time, she would easily give in to the pull she felt, allowing him to tug her towards his bed without having to fear about the aftermath. But if there was one thing (y/n) was sure of, it was that Tyler Owens was all about playing games, toying with a woman until he eventually grew bored. He was a personification of a thunderstorm, fast moving and never ready to settle.
“Don’t let it get to your head, pretty.” She clicked her tongue with a displeased expression tugging on her features. There was no time left to study him, to curse whoever had created him for making him look this handsome. They had to stay focused, at least until she got the data she needed for her project.
“Alright, we’re heading east.” (Y/n) closed her laptop before reaching for her bag–the bag that was snatched from her grasp before she could protest. Tyler had slung it over his shoulder while tilting his head towards his truck, silently asking her to ride with him.
On any other occasion she would have cursed him, would have told him to fuck off. But today, while being heavily understaffed, she needed any help she could get. And knowing that Tyler drove like the devil himself, she knew she had the best chance of arriving just in time with him by her side.
His smirk grew wider the second she gave in, begrudgingly following Tyler while her eyes found the confused ones of her teammates. She only rolled her eyes at them, raising her shoulders and dropping them again as if she was wordlessly telling them that she was just as confused as they were, not seeing through Tyler’s game just yet.
Silence filled the truck, only a few commands left (y/n) whenever they needed to make a turn, chasing down the roads to catch up with the growing cell. All while the others followed behind them, too slow to catch up with Tyler’s truck. Her heart was pounding in her chest, riled up by the anticipation of chasing another storm – no matter how many times she had done this before, (y/n) would never get used to the thrill, the moments leading up to seeing yet another beautiful though terrifying tornado.
“You alright, pretty?” She’d never get used to the way Tyler called her, dripping with that drawl she loved more than she’d ever admit. (Y/n) didn’t look at him, fully focused on her laptop to monitor the path their tornado took. No word left her pressed together lips, trying to drown out the feeling of his concerned eyes flickering towards her every few seconds.
“(Y/n)?” The use of her name ripped (y/n) out of her trance, letting her wide pupils find his. She only nodded at Tyler, knowing she couldn’t waste any time on the crush she could never speak of, preferring to take her secret to the grave rather than feeding his ego–only to end up with a broken heart in the process.
“Guys, can you hear me?” She held the radio close, speaking to the others while refocusing on the map. All they could hear was rustling, unable to pick up on the reply that was spoken on the other end. Curses clawed through (y/n), she tried to reach their teams again, while swallowing the sinking feeling growing in the pit of her stomach. No longer could she see them in the rearview mirror, telling her that they hadn’t made it down the narrow path Tyler had taken.
The road ahead was muddy, forcing the truck to slither along while Tyler tried to avoid holes and ditches. With one hand clutching the door, (y/n) tried to hold still, not daring to bump into Tyler whose angry cusses filled the truck. Both had their eyes focused ahead, knowing that this had been the wrong choice, the wrong tornado to chase. They were heading straight towards their death if they kept going that way, knowing that without their team by their side, they wouldn’t be able to collect enough data anyway.
“I hate being the one to say it, but we gotta find shelter, lightning.” Tyler’s annoyed groans left her nodding, giving him the green light to take a sharp left to turn towards the town close by. With the slimmest chance to find proper shelter, Tyler kept speeding along, seemingly having a spot in mind. (Y/n) was angry, at herself, at the road conditions, knowing that this situation should have played out much differently. And all she could do was trust the man she had always tried to hate.
“Come, follow me.” The truck was forced to a sudden halt. (Y/n) followed Tyler outside, holding onto her things while he reached for her free hand to pull her along. He guided her towards what appeared to be a barn, a building she paid no attention to as she studied the tornado, getting lost in its beauty for a second. “They built an underground shelter here a few years back, if we’re lucky nobody else had the time to find it.”
Tyler pushed her into the unlocked barn, letting the doors slide close again before he led her down some stairs. She didn’t dare speak, torn between too many emotions. All (y/n) could do was let go of a sigh while being ushered into the empty, dark shelter. It took her a while to adjust to the darkness, letting her hands move along the metallic wall until she found what appeared to be a light switch. She gave it a try, though without any luck, letting herself drop to the ground while Tyler stayed glued to his spot.
If both hadn’t been too deep in thought, they would have realised that this was the first time they were sheltering together, completely alone without any nosy eyes watching them or listening to their talks.
“We should have gone west, I’m sorry.” Her whispers filled the small shelter, luring Tyler closer who plopped down next to her. He fumbled with his phone to turn on the fleshlight, letting it rest on the ground to alight their surroundings. A few boxes were placed against the wall, filled with water and some snacks they hopefully wouldn’t have to use, praying that they’d get out of here fast enough to chase their luck once again.
“There’s always time for another try, pretty.” Tyler reached for her hand to squeeze it before he could stop himself, forcing her eyes to focus on the spot where she now felt a buzzing sensation. She let her head roll towards Tyler, studying the white hat he took off with his free hand, placing it down on the ground, only to comb through his hair.
“Don’t think I’ve ever seen you without that thing on.” (Y/n)’s whispers left him chuckling, a sound that momentarily managed to drown out the roar of the tornado. The howling was an almost comforting sound to them, after years of chasing them, well aware of every little detail.
“Well, you’re one of the few who gets the honour, appreciate it.” She rolled her eyes at him before ripping her gaze off of him. Heat flushed through her at his teasing, a heat that only grew more biting as she realised that they were still holding hands. Her tongue moved along her dry lips, trying to find the right words to break their silence, silently hoping that she could cherish every single second of their time together. As much as she had once sworn to hate him while burying her crush deep inside of herself, she had lost all strength to fight against it, at least for now.
“Why have we never done this before?” Tyler seemed to feel the same longing, drawing her focus back towards him with his question. His eyes had an even more piercing touch to them now, having an invisible tight grasp on her soul she didn’t want to escape from.
“Because you’re an asshole most of the time and I can’t stand being around you for long.” (Y/n)’s sharp reply left him laughing, a loud sound that had an addicting effect on her, leaving her chuckling while shaking her head at the man.
“You wound me, lightning. Here I was hoping you’d finally let me take you out on a date, once this day’s over.” No longer did she laugh, the sound was stuck in her throat all too suddenly.
Did he truly mean it? Was he planning on asking her out? Or was Tyler playing yet another game with her?
“Don’t fuck with me, Owens.” His hand darted out to grasp her chin, forcing her to keep her focus on him before she could even try to turn away from him. For just a second, she watched his gaze flicker between her eyes and her slightly parted lips. Once again her heart was back to racing, no longer focused on the howling wind, the sounds of things crashing outside, but fully and solemnly focused on Tyler.
“Are you scared of this thing between us?” Once again, his question managed to rob her of the air filling her lungs, not expecting him to be this direct with her. A part of (y/n) begged her to cuss him out, to make fun of the question, to escape the avalanche that was about to roll upon them, but the bigger - more desperate - part of her, managed to gain the upper hand, leading her straight towards danger.
“Well, even though you enjoy riding your fears, I prefer to face ‘em. I’m not scared, not of this, whatever this is. But I’m fucking terrified of you toying with me and dropping me the second I’m no longer interesting enough.” He let go of her, only to pull her into his lap, making her straddle his stretched out legs. They held eye contact, wordlessly daring one another to move first, to give in to the pull that was as strong as an F5 they’d happily chase on any other day.
“I’d be fucking stupid to mess it up with you.” She felt his breath on her lips, ghosting over her soft skin like he was giving her one last chance to pull away. A chance she wouldn’t take, letting it pass while finding his lips for a soft kiss that escalated within seconds. With his hand pressed to the back of her head and his other placed on her waist, Tyler held her to him while deepening the kiss.
Their tongues fought for victory, knowing that neither of them would back down from a fight against the other, urged on by their need to gain the upper hand. Soft groans and moans left them while their bodies searched one another’s closeness, knowing that this was something they wouldn’t tell others about, preferring to keep this as their secret.
Her hands roamed his clothed chest, feeling his muscles beneath her wandering fingers while finding her way to his belt. She toyed with the buckle for a moment while her lips were still glued to his, knowing they’d have to part any moment now to inhale some much needed breaths of air.
“You sure you want to do this in here, lightning?” His chuckles left her grinning, while holding onto the question she had wanted to ask for a while now.
“Why lightning?” A kiss was shared between them, much softer than the one before. Her hand was still toying with his belt, slowly undoing the buckle to wordlessly tell him she wanted this much as he did, even though they knew that it was stupid and selfish of them to hide out here while their teams were undoubtedly worrying about them.
“Well, the first time I saw you, you struck me like lightning, brightening my darkest day.” The explanation was cheesy, and yet it still drew heat up her neck. She could only swallow, smile at him and refocus on her hands. Tyler let her move, freeing his hardening cock while his impatient hands tugged on the buttons of her blouse, letting it pop open to expose her bra-clad chest.
“Fuck, you’re a dream.” Her eyes flickered up to his while she spat into her palm, using her saliva to lube him up. Tyler couldn’t stop his moans from clawing through him, fully focused on the way he perfectly fit into her hand, pressed against the soft skin he wanted to feel against every inch of his body. His head rolled back against the wall, eyes closed and lips parted – offering a sight that made her walls clench around nothing, proud for being the one to make him feel like that.
Her hand added more speed to its movements, squeezing him with just enough pressure to draw another raspy moan from Tyler. He allowed himself to relish in her touch for another moment before he gently though urgently grasped her wrist to stop her from moving.
“Will you ride me, lightning?” His accent grew thicker with every syllable, leaving her shuddering while only a soft chuckle managed to leave her. She rose to her feet to shuffle out of her jeans, keeping her eyes focused on Tyler who marvelled at her as if she was the strongest tornado he had ever been fortunate enough to see, fully mesmerised by everything about her. She kept her panties on while finding her way back to his lap, knowing that they needed to hit the road soon, not giving them a chance to do this properly.
“Wait, here.” He reached for his back pocket to pull a condom out of his wallet, letting her rip it open to roll it down his aching cock. Both their hearts were beating in sync, knowing that they were finally about to do something they had been desperate for ever since running into one another for the first time. No matter how much anger and hatred had once grown between them, it was now turning them from opponents to lovers–or whatever it was both were trying to adjust to.
Tyler held onto her as she sank down on him, letting her forehead fall against his shoulder for a second. No words were spoken while they had to adjust, overwhelmed by the new sensation and the whirlwind of emotions buzzing through them like a storm hitting them both. With her hands holding onto him, clinging to the fabric of the shirt he wore, she began to move, fucking herself on his twitching cock with such a passion, Tyler feared he may never want to get out of this shelter again.
“Tyler,” his name left her, a breathy whisper he almost missed, too far gone to focus on anything but their closeness. He palmed her ass, letting his fingertips dig into her skin to leave marks that would remind her of this very moment for days to come. His hips met hers, jerking upwards to make his cock disappear inside of her even deeper, drawing desperate moans from them which dripped with a need for more.
“Attagirl, look at you, fucking yourself on my cock like you were born for this.” She moaned at his words, knowing that her thighs would start aching soon enough, begging for a new position to give herself the needed push to fall over the edge. “What? You’re already getting tired? I should have fucked you in my truck, make you scream my name while the world’s ending around us.”
He pushed her off of him without a warning, leaving her dazed and confused for a second while watching him rise to his feet. With a hand stretched out for (y/n) to take, he pulled her up towards him–only to pick her up and press her against the wall. His cock was pushed back into her, stretching her walls while he fucked her with a fast pace that made both of them see stars.
(Y/n) clawed at his neck, needing to hold onto him while he fucked her closer and closer to the edge. A cocky grin widened on his lips as he felt her walls tightening their grip on his cock. She was close, would let go soon with his name burning on the tip of her tongue, a perfect reminder that she was his from today on, glued to the man who she had once sworn to hate.
“Scream my name, lightning, show them what a real thunderstorm sounds like.” If he weren’t buried deep inside of her, she would have rolled her eyes at him. But (y/n) was too far gone to care about his cheesy teasing, solemnly focused on her arising high and the name rolling off her tongue like a prayer.
And then she came, pushed into an orgasm so strong, (y/n) feared she’d never experience something like this again. It buzzed through every part of her body, stealing her breath as if she was drowning, forcing her heart to skip beats as if she was chased by someone or rather something. Tyler kept fucking her against the wall, urged on by her moans, the sounds he’d never forget again.
Pants kept leaving him while chasing his own high, letting his skin meet hers with every ferocious thrust. And with one last “Fuck” Tyler came, relieving himself into the condom as his smirk returned to his lips. Both were heavily breathing, clinging to the other while coming down from their highs.
“I don’t know if I can walk back to the truck.” Carefully, he placed (y/n) back down on her feet, shaking his head at her with a soft smile thrown her way. Tyler pressed another kiss to her slightly swollen lips before both redressed, knowing that they had to get out of here and back to their team as fast as possible.
“You know I’ll gladly carry you, lightning. I always will, if you let me.”
#Tyler Owens smut#Tyler Owens x reader#tyler owens Imagine#twisters#glen powell#glen Powell imagine#Glen Powell smut
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is that a bet? • stray kids ot8 x reader
M D N I 18+
Synopsis: at some point of playing ‘never have I ever’, you make a bet that you could make all eight of your best friends cum within 10-15 minutes…and well, you did.
WC: 3.7k (I have issues)
Tags: PURE SMUT, afab!reader, softdom!chan, dom!minho, dom!changbin, softdom!hyunjin, sub!jisung, sub!felix, dom!seungmin, switch!jeongin, switch!reader, piv, unprotected sex (wrap the eggplant yall), same hole double penetration, ass smacking, squirting, begging, overstimulation, hair pulling, spitting, oral (f. receiving), lwk gangbang, praise (pretty, good girl), degradation (slut, whore), light dacryphilia, breeding kink, creampie, biting(?), grinding, pet names (baby, babe, princess, hun, darling, kitten, bun, etc), marking/hickey, probably forgetting some…sorry :P
a/n: this is so smutty i am so sorry…but yw 🫠
You don’t remember how exactly you ended up in this position…something about a bet, yet here you are, half-naked spread out on the floor with eight pairs of eyes burning into your body.
8 minutes earlier
“Never have I ever,” Minho pauses in thought, “nutted before my partner.”
“What the actual fuck Minho.” Seungmin grimaces, though he takes a swig of soju. “What?!” Minho shrugs defensively, “It makes the game more interesting.”
“That’s a fucking lie though.” Jisung snorts as he also takes a shot of soju. “And how would you know that?” You ask with a sly smirk.
“I’ve seen him watch porn,” He deadpans, which sends everyone into a fit of laughter.
“You wanna bet Ji?” Minho challenges.
“Y’all seriously aren’t about to jerk off right here…right?” Chan looks at them in disgust and then at the white shag carpet underneath them, “Why, you wanna join?” Minho pokes.
“I bet none of y’all virgins can stop yourselves from cumming as soon as someone touches you.”
“You wanna make that bet.” Changbin chimes in. You groan at them which catches their attention, “Do you have something to say princess?” Jisung raised his brows teasingly. You groan yet again at the nickname before saying, “I bet I could make all y’all cum in fifteen, maybe ten minutes.”
“You really wanna do this?” Hyunjin lifts your chin with his finger. “Hmm,” you hum, “if you guys cum before I do, a hundred…from each of you.”
“That’s eight hundred bucks!” Jeongin blurts out, you nod slyly. “And if we win?” Felix tilts his head. “Y’all can decide on that.” you state.
You move to get up, dragging your hoodie over your body and exposing your oversized shirt underneath. You turn around looking at the eight boys. “Are we doing this or not?”
Everyone unanimously agrees. It went so fast, the soju from the previous rounds probably getting to everybody’s heads and letting you carelessly make these decisions.
“Oh and rules-“ “RULES?!” Minho, Seungmin and Jisung cried out. “Guys it’s her body, she can make rules.” Felix interrupts their protests. “Thanks Lix,” You smile before continuing, “no touching…well to be more clear no touching me or yourselves…but I can touch you.”
“What?!” They all exclaimed in disappointment.
“It makes the game more interesting.” You shrug, spewing Minho’s previous words at them, the said boy shoots you a playful glare.
You glanced over at the digital clock that hung from the wall. 12:48.
Present
And well, that’s how you ended up here.
Your hand trails down your body stopping at your soaked panties before circling over your clit, toes curling at the feeling.
You stare up at the eight boys, their eyes dazed on your leaking cunt that stains your panties. You let out a moan as you hook your fingers around the material and slip it down your legs, exposing your now bare glistening cunt. You let a finger plunge into your heat, biting your lip. You lock eyes with Changbin, his knuckles gripping at his sweatpants, the outline of his cock bulging through the material. You bite your lip as you stare at his bulge.
The sound of a small whine prompts you to look over at another flustered and painfully hard boy. Jisung looks at you, his eyebrows furrowed and his lower lip is caught between his teeth. “Please, Y/N.”
“Well since you asked so nicely.” You coo, pulling your fingers out of your cunt and crawling ever so slowly towards the round cheeked boy. As you settle by his side, you purposefully arch your back and push your ass out so that the guys sitting criss crossed on the floor behind me have a nice view. You trail your fingers up his knee and towards his thigh
He shivered under your touch as you made your fingers dance along his inner thigh. A desperate whimper left his mouth as you pulled back teasingly and went back to your original spot on the shag carpet.
“Fuck,” Hyunjin breathed out, “you’re ethereal.” His usually perfectly sculpted face contoured into a needy look- yet through his desperation he still looked as beautiful as ever. You moan softly as his praise. “Oh, does our little slut like to be praised?” Minho said to your right, you turned to him and bit your lip, your legs instinctively closing as his degradation surged throughout your body. “Fuck and degration too.” Seungmin hums as your eyes trail to him.
The hot touch of a hand on your lower hips snapped you out of the trace that Seungmin had basically pulled you into. You look towards your right, and there Minho is, smirking as his hand squeezes at the curve of your ass. “Hey!” You slapped his hand away, “No touching!”
“You never said what would happen if we did though, kitten.” The stupid pet name had you squeezing your legs together even more, “Aw, such a filthy slut for us.”
“Shit he’s right,” Felix breathed out, “what happens if we do touch you?” Shit, you didn’t think this far ahead- fuck you don’t even remember what the prize of the bet was…or if there even was one. Why are you guys even doing this again? “Fuck,” Chan groans gently, “does this pretty little cunt of yours want to be filled, love?” You feel his rough hands cup your bare cunt, jerking at the sudden touch. “Y/N?” Jeongin’s soft voice cracked as he whined out your name. You hummed in response as you fought the urge to grind against Chan’s large hand. “Can we touch you now? Please.”
“Oh God,” You throw your head back with a moan as Chan teasingly slips a finger inside your glistening pussy, “fuck yes! Please Innie!”
With that Jeongin springs up to his feet and quickly makes his way towards you. At the corner of your eye, you see the other five move from their spot to get closer to you. “Fuck,” you moan, feeling Changbin’s hands run under your tshirt, lightly teasing your pebbled nipples, “why did we do this again?” A small chuckle resonated from Seungmin’s sweet lips, “Because you wanted to win a bet, right pup?”
You bite down on your lower lip, Jisung’s lips attaching themselves to your clit next to where Chan’s fingers are plummeted inside. Felix helps you out of your shirt as Hyunjin and Changbin each take one of your breasts into their mouth. It all happened so quickly and at the same time, you feel your climax nearing faster than ever. And just like that your release is stolen from you as the four boys pull away from your body. You whine out desperately, “I swear to fucking God if y’all do that again I’m leaving and finishing by myself!” You threaten, sitting up onto your knees.
“Okay, okay princess.” Jisung purrs as he tilts your head up by hooking his knuckle under your chin.
You whimper as he nears your face, “This okay?” you gulp and nod quickly and to that he just clicks his tongue, pulling back slightly. “Words babe.”
“Yes.” you sigh breathlessly, Jisung attaches his lips to yours ever so roughly, a pair of soft hands grab at your hips, placing you down onto their lap. Your legs slotted against your chest being held by the man whom you’re laying on, while the said man leaves butterfly kisses along the nape of your neck.
Chan slipped his fingers out of your cunt prompting you to whine but the feeling of something warm and wet poking at your clit causes the whine to turn into a gasp, Jisung takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth.
Your thighs instinctively clench around the head that’s propped between them.
“So sweet.”
Jeongin muttered against your folds before slotting his tongue alongside it yet again. “Holy fuck Innie!” you throw your head back, lips detaching from Jisung’s, with an erotic moan, your head now resting on the shoulder of the man behind you. At this angle you catch a glimpse at the the man- fucking hell.
He sinks his teeth into your neck, though the action seems so rough he doesn’t bite down to the point where it hurts. “Fuck, keep her making those faces.” Felix bites his lip, his hand rubbing himself through his shorts. You whine, shutting your eyes as Jeongin continues to assault your throbbing cunt as Changbin moves into massage your breasts. “Look at you,” Minho purred into your ear as he started grinding his hardened cock against your ass, “being so obedient and submissive for everyone, just like the little slut you are.” You moan out at the overwhelming mixture of sensations; Hyunjin nibbling at your nipple, Jeongin’s tongue running up and down your folds, and Minho breathing dirty words into your ear while peppering your shoulder with kisses and love bites.
The cat eyed boy sneakily brings his hand to your cunt and smacks it slightly, not too hard but enough that it stung a little. “Fuck you,” you groan out as Minho massages your core, his fingers dipping further down towards where Jeongin’s face is buried. “No,” Minho tsked, “I’ll do the fucking.”
“Don’t be too rough on her Min.” Chan spoke, you glance over to him and he had his hand shoved down his pants. “She likes it.” Seungmin said confidently, “Right, whore?” You do nothing but whimper at his words meanwhile your body starts to shake slightly. “Answer with words pup.”
“God, fuck yes! I love it- please don’t stop.” You can feel Jeongin smirk against your heat.
Your eyes wandered to the boy next to Seungmin, his eyes stuck on mine as his pretty face scrunched up, his shorts rustling while his hand too was shoved inside, and his freckled cheeks flushed so very red. “Lix,” you gesture for him to move closer, almost immediately the freckled boy quickly rushed down from his spot on the couch and next to you on the floor. He looks at you with pleading eyes, “take it off.”
You grab at the hem of his shirt, he swiftly pulls it over his head awaiting your next instruction. You were about to ask him something but the feeling of a harsh bite on your inner thigh caused you to squeak out instead. Your head whips down to see Hyunjin licking at the skin he just bit. They’re moving so quickly you can barely keep up with who’s doing what.
“Can we fuck you already?” A voice said from your left, your head instinctively turning towards the source. Seungmin stared at you with prying eyes. “Kim Seungmin!” Chan lightly smacked his shoulder, “Let her choose, remember?” The oldest shakes his head at the younger. “Min,” You whimper from the stimulation. “Yeah?” Both Seungmin and Minho responded. “Lee.” Seungmin pouted as Minho leaned in closer, hooking his chin on your shoulder.
Though your senses are so overloaded, you snake your hands down the space between your bodies, shifting your hips up to grab at his hardened cock. Minho’s brows furrow as you stroke his clothed dick. “Desperate are we?” He smirks, “You want all eight of us tonight? Or just a few?” Chan questions, he’s so thoughtful and that makes your heart hammer in your chest. “All.”
”Fuck.” Each boy’s voice sounds throughout the room, they all stare at you with lust-filled eyes.
Your hand that’s still wrapped around Minho’s cock, begins pumping it. Minho hisses at the feeling, precum leaking from the tip. You tease his slit before shifting your hips in his lap. Lifting your hips, you grind down on his cock, your arousal coating his shaft.
“Oh, fucking hell.” Minho throws his head back erratically as his tip pokes at your clit, he could feel as you throbbed against him. He wanted nothing more than to slip inside you already. Unbeknownst to Minho, you gesture with your head for Hyunjin to move closer.
The taller boy obeys, moving into your space, sealing your lips against his. Hyunjin’s hands moved to your hips, gently- yet quickly- pushing you down onto Minho’s cock. Both you and Minho moan out as you clench around his girth.
“Fuck, you’re squeezing me so well, yeah slut.” Minho grunts before he slams his hips into you roughly, not even allowing you to adjust. “Min, not too rough.” Chan warned as you dug your nails into Hyunjin’s shoulder as he continued kissing you.
“Yeah, she’s still got all of us!” Jeongin whined from Chan’s left. You clench at Jeongin’s words, the thought of you having all eight of them tonight makes you spiral towards your climax. “Not yet kitten. Hold it off.” Minho snarled into your ear, his cock continuously hitting your gspot.
“Hyune.” You whined, reaching down to pump his cock, jerking him towards your pussy that is getting pounded into by Minho. “Shit, you want me too darling?” Hyunjin smirked, his eyes gazing down towards where you and Minho are connected, where you’re pulling him towards.
You hastily nod, nothing but whimpers and moans spilling out from your mouth. Hyunjin shoots Minho a look over your shoulder, the latter smirks at him, taking your thighs and pushing them farther back to give space to Hyunjin.
Hyunjin’s tip pokes at your entrance before he pushes in. The stretch didn’t hurt too bad, but it was enough for tears to prickle in your eyes. As Hyunjin and Minho fucked into you, tears finally fell, cascading down your cheeks from the mixture pleasure and pain.
“Aw, don’t cry bun.” You hear Changbin coo. The built man moving over to you, kissing the tear stains on your cheeks. “They making you feel that good?” He gives a sly raise of his brow, his bottom lips jutting out. “F-Fuck Binnie.” You moan, you can feel both Minho and Hyunjin twitching inside you.
A harsh slap stings on your ass as Minho rubs at the now red spot. “I’m so close princess, can I fill you up?” Hyunjin grunts against your neck. “Yes, God, please, Hyune.” Your body begins to shake as Hyunjin spills into you, Minho following close after at the feeling of your clenching and Hyunjin’s cum coating his cock.
Jisung pushes Changbin out of his way before helping you up off of Minho and Hyunjin’s sweaty bodies, greedily taking you towards the sofa, sitting down and playing you on his lap. Jisung’s cock slips in with ease after being stretched out by Minho and Hyunjin.
You melt into Jisung touch as his hands guide you to roll your hips. His hands make their way towards your ass, spreading your cheeks apart revealing your swollen cunt to the boys behind you.
“Fuck you’re so warm baby.” Jisung groans into your ear. Suddenly another pair of hands are on you, massaging at your hips before rutting his cock between your ass. “Can I have a turn hun?” You hear Felix hum behind you.
You turn your head and give him a weak smile as a go ahead. With that Felix slips his cock alongside Jisung’s, both boys moaning at the feeling. Having almost orgasmed earlier, you feel it build up quicker than last time. Your thighs began quaking as Jisung bucked his hips and Felix thrusted into you.
Your hands shoot up to Felix’s blonde hair, tugging at it when the two boys hit your gspot directly. Felix released a low whimper, “Darling please, I won’t- last long if you do that.” He stumbled over his words, his freckled cheeks a deep pink hue.
You decide to tease the boy, clenching down on his (and Jisung’s) cock, pulling at his hair. You feel as he twitched inside of you before unexpectedly releasing. The freckled boy’s face scrunched up in pleasure as he leaned his forehead against yours as Jisung thrusted into you a few more times before emptying himself into you as well.
“Holy shit.” Felix shook, biting his lower lip before slowing his thrusts, robbing you from your orgasm again. “Save it for me, yeah love?” You heard Chan chuckle to your right. You turn to look at him, flinching when Felix and Jisung ease out of your clenching cunt.
Jeongin helps you off of the other’s bodies. He holds you up when your legs threaten to give out on you. Holding you by the waist, his pretty brown eyes flicker down to your lips, hesitant to lean in. You chuckle before cupping his cheeks and pulling his lips towards yours.
Jeongin groans into the kiss as he grinds his clothed erection into your hips. He pulls away, an embarrassed flush taking over his cheeks. You chuckle before setting him on the sofa like the other had been previously positioned.
Throwing your legs around his lap, you straddled the flustered boy under you. “This okay Innie?” You asked, even though you’ve already crossed that friendship line with him having already eaten you out, you still wanted to make sure he was okay with this.
“Oh fuck yeah I’m okay.” Jeongin grinned, his hands immediately roaming your breasts, squeezing and massaging at the flesh. You hastily undo the zipper of his jeans before tugging his cock out of the slacks. Jeongin hissed at your touch.
Suddenly a hot sting spread through your ass. You whimpered at the slight pain, turning over to see Seungmin glaring down at you. “Bend.” Jeongin stared up at the elder and you in a daze. You leaned as much as you could onto Jeongin before another slap landed on your ass.
A moan echoing from your mouth. With you moaning into his ear, Jeongin grew impatient, grabbing his cock before pressing inside of you. The mixture of the slaps and Jeongin’s cock filling you up made your back arch.
Before you could even begin to process what was happening, Seungmin rammed his cock inside your sopping cunt. You practically scream from the sudden intrusion, nails digging into Jeongin’s shoulders.
The two youngest boys out of your friends absolutely railed you, both stopping whenever your moans would pitch and you would start squeezing their cocks uncontrollably. “Minnie, Innie- let me please, I’m so close.” You cried, that knot in your stomach so tight that it almost hurt.
“You think you deserve it, after driving us all into this stupid bet, you whore?” Seungmin snarled, grabbing your hair and pulling your head backwards, “Open.” You oblige, parting your lips, lolling your tongue out as you understood what the man was hinting at. Seungmin let a drop of saliva fall from his mouth and into yours before harshly pushing your head back towards Jeongin’s neck.
The two boys continued using your cunt until they were spurting out warm ropes into you. Yet again you were robbed from your orgasm as the two roughly filled up your cunt.
“Fuck, you did so well pup.” Seungmin panted against the nape of your neck, leaving a small kiss there before slipping out of your pussy. When you pulled away from Jeongin’s sweaty body, he stared up at you with a wide grin and a dazed look, he looked absolutely fucked out.
Changbin helps you off the boys before pushing Jeongin off the couch and getting comfortable in that same spot, pulling you onto his lap. “You wanna take a breather?” Chan asked, crouching down to your seated level. “No…just…please, I’m so close.”
Changbin chuckled from behind you, guiding you to straddle him in reverse. You sink onto Changbin’s thick cock, the built man’s hands flying to your tits, holding and squeezing them as they bounce with your movements.
You peer through your eyelashes, raising your brow at Chan, insinuating for him to hurry up and fuck you. The oldest of the eight chuckles before slipping his cock out of his pants. “Gonna fill you up so good, yeah baby?” He says before sliding right inside your stretched out pussy.
“Holy mother of fuck!” You cursed, the stretch of Changbin was already overwhelming- but now adding on Chan’s way above average length…you don’t think you’ll be able to walk tomorrow.
Changbin thrusted harshly from underneath you, roughly pinching at your nipples. “Fuck bun, your squeezing us so much, might just bust right now.”
You loll your head back into his shoulder, “Bin…fuck- Binnie please.” You beg, your arms moving to tug at his wavy hair.
“Shit,” he huffed, his cock twitching inside you as he fastened his speed. Chan just watched as Changbin rammed into your cunt alongside his. The intense feeling of Changbin railing into you from underneath had you reeling, though the sudden circling of your clit made your orgasm finally hit you.
Liquid squirting out of you as you cried out, before Changbin released inside of you, Chan now picking up his pace, edging towards his climax.
“I know love, I’m sorry…just a few more.” Chan cooed as you whimpered from the overstimulation, he continued railing into you, not stopping when Changbin had pulled out of you.
Chan nuzzled his face into your neck, leaving kisses and sucking at the skin there. “Almost there love, gonna fill you up so good, yeah. You’ve been such a good girl for us.” His praise had you crying out, squeezing around his cock. At that Chan finally came, filling you up with his warm release.
Chan slowly eased out of you before gently moving you to lay on the less dirty part of the couch.
“Imma go get the towels.” A voice you’re not even sure who’s said. “I’ll get her some water.” Another stated.
Sometime later, Felix returned with some damp warm towels. As he wiped your lower region, you flinched at the sensitivity. “I’m sorry darling, almost done.”
A sudden hand gently raised your head from the back, supporting you to sit up. “You okay? We didn’t go too rough on you, right?” Seungmin asked as Minho handed you a glass of water. You took the glass with an appreciative smile.
“You guys were fine- oh.”
“Oh?” Hyunjin smiled in confusion. “The time.” You said pointing at the digital clock. 1:03. Exactly fifteen minutes.
“I win.” Some of the boys groaned while some chuckled, a bet is a bet after all.
taglist: @katsukis1wife
#skz#stray kids#skz imagines#stray kids imagines#skz hard hours#skz hard thoughts#skz smut#stray kids smut#stray kids hard thoughts#stray kids hard hours#stray kids ot8 x reader#stray kids x reader#skz x reader#bangchan x reader#lee know x reader#changbin x reader#han jisung x reader#felix x reader#jeongin x reader#kim seungmin x reader#seungmin x reader#seungmin smut#jeongin smut#Felix smut#Jisung smut#Hyunjin smut#changbin smut#hyunjin x reader#lee know smut#bang chan smut
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˖ ݁𖥔 ݁ “MY BOYFRIEND IS GONNA KICK YOUR ASS !”
WINDBREAKER BOYS PROTECTING YOU FROM PERVS. ft. kaji ren, togame jo, umemiya hajime, sakura haruka, hayato suo, toma hiragi, kiryuu mitsuki, & kyotaro sugishita x f!reader
sfw. wc: 2.6K. oh how i’ve been wanting to write this since i finished the manga! but individual warnings are below <3
KAJI REN. referred to as she/her, ‘my girl,’ comments about your outfit
“My boyfriend’s real scary y’know.” Your voice falters a bit as you take another step back, hands coming up defensively. “And he’ll be here any moment.”
It’s a lie that you hope sounds convincing— because Kaji coming to save you today may be nothing more than a desperate wish of yours. How would he even find you in a place like this? You’re not sure exactly how much time has passed since you’ve started running, but you’re certain that by now, you and Kaji should have already been inside the bakery, finally getting to taste test the new fruit pastries you’d been dying to get your hands on.
It started off as just a loud whistle your direction, then led to an uncomfortable conversation about how you’re not interested— and that you have a boyfriend. One thing led to another, and somehow you’ve ended up here, out of breath from speed walking and completely lost— and to top it off, the only person near you is the one you’ve been running so desperately from.
You wish Kaji was here already.
“Oh yeah?” The man in front of you takes a step towards you, lips contorting into a sick grin when he sees your hands trembling. “I don't see him.”
Your lips tremble a bit when he reaches you, towering over you with ease. “Don’t you dare touch me.” You warn, “My boyfriend will beat your a—” you yelp as you’re suddenly pulled to the side, stumbling into someone’s chest as they pull you flush against their front.
The familiar scent of candy melts away your fear in a split second.
“Kaji!”
You can tell when you glance at him just once that he isn’t happy. His forehead is damp with sweat, and he looks disheveled, chest rising up and down with labored breaths— he must have been running around trying to find you this entire time.
Your boyfriend clicks his tongue in annoyance, eyes narrowing as he sizes up the man in front of him. “Problem?”
He rips off his headphones, letting them hang around his neck as the man feigns an apology, unapologetic eyes looming over your figure again seconds later. “But y’know man, you should be keeping a closer eye on your girl,” he points to you with a smug smile, “she was practically begging for me to say something with the way she’s dressed.”
“I wasn’t!” You protest, face burning as you tug on ren’s coat. You thought your outfit was cute— and definitely not anything crazy— you double checked. You really did. But he’s pointing at you now, rambling on about how you wanted this— and you can’t help the way tears start to blur your vision.
“Huh?” Kaji snarls, head tilting to leer at the man. The arm around your waist pulls you tighter against his chest, and you hear the angry thumping of his heart. “What'd you say?”
“Okay, okay, I’m leaving now.” The man chuckles in defeat. “I was just joking. Wasn’t gonna actually do something to your girl.” he waves him off. “You should lighten up—”
He chokes when Kaji grabs a fistful of his shirt, pulling him off balance before knocking him backwards, your pursuer falling roughly onto the floor as he winces in pain. “Then get outta here already.” Kaji glares, a stark contrast to the gentle way his hand is pressing against your lower back to guide you away.
“And don’t let me catch you looking at my girl again.”
TOGAME JO. referred to as she/her, ‘my girl,’ you wear his jacket
Togame gives you a sleepy smile as he watches you from Miniso’s entrance, excitedly sorting through the newly restocked blind boxes. He was resting his back against the wall behind him when he caught his first glimpse of that guy.
He’s wearing a dark hoodie, head turning back to shamelessly stare your direction as he passes by slowly. It’s enough to get togame back up on his feet immediately, quickly heading your way just as the man reaches to get a feel of your thighs—
“How shameless.” Togame laughs, big hand squeezing painfully into his wrist. “Tryna bother my girl?”
In any other situation, Togame would chuckle at your obliviousness, your headphones cancelling out any noise as your eye catches the cinnamoroll section, letting out an excited gasp as you head that way. You really had no idea.
“M-my bad man.” He stutters, ripping his arm from Togame’s grasp. “Just thought she was my sister— was just gonna tap on her back to grab her attention.”
Togame raises an eyebrow at the lazy excuse, leaning down until the man takes a nervous step back, eyes darting to the side to avoid Togame’s glare. “Sister? That’s my Shishitoren jacket she has on, no?”
The man feels heavy beads of sweat roll down his face when Togame’s hands curl into clenched fists. “You mean to tell me your lil sis is from Shishitoren?”
“I said it was my bad,” he repeats, chuckling nervously. “It won’t happen again okay? I won’t bother her again.”
Togame’s hands return to his pockets. “Won’t let you off so easy next time,” his voice is low as he steps aside to let him off, “so you’d better keep your distance.”
UMEMIYA HAJIME. referred to as she/her, ‘your girl’
Umemiya instinctively perks up when he hears two voices behind him, momentarily tuning out your gushing about how cute the little plant kits at barnes and noble are.
“….She's probably taken.”
“Is that her boyfriend behind her? Think she's talking to him.”
There's a chuckle between them. “Doesn’t matter. Go tell her what you just said to me when she's alone.”
“What?” The man laughs. “Ask her if i can grab a handful of that ass?”
More laughter.
Umemiya’s jaw clenches, eyes darting back at you in a flash, and he’s relieved when he sees you’re still gushing about the flower kits— completely oblivious to the two men just beyond this aisle. He’s by your side in an instant, arms wrapping around your waist as he rests his chin on your shoulder.
“Oh.” You turn to press a quick kiss against his temple, smiling when he melts into your touch. “Hi, Haji. Did you find a book?”
“Nothing here.” He sighs dramatically, his embrace around your middle tightening just enough for you to barely notice. “But we can grab some of those flower kits.”
“Really?”
“Of course—”
“Hey.” A familiar voice interrupts him with a stifled laugh, followed by a tap on his shoulder. With the roughness, it’s more like a jab— but he lets that slide.
“Ah— your friend, Haji.” Your voice comes off as a mix between a question and a statement.
“Hey, my friend has something to ask your girl.”
Umemiya’s jaw clenches again, and your eyes widen a bit at the sudden change in the atmosphere. The first friend’s hand is swat off of his shoulder in a split second, Umemiya straightening back up to look back at them.
Their first thought is that he’s a lot taller than they had pictured. A lot more muscular too— and they take note of the way his muscles bulge against the fabric of his shirt. “What, you have business with her?”
They flinch at the tone.
“Ah— sorry.” The second friend stutters. “We got the wrong person.”
SAKURA HARUKA.
“Ah— what happened?” Your hands delicately cup Sakura’s face, ignoring the way his cheeks instantly turn into a deep shade of scarlet. “N-nothing happened!” He weakly swats at your hand, a futile attempt to dissipate the heat spreading through the tips of his ears.
“I was only in the bathroom for five minutes.” You laugh. “How’d you manage to get into a fight so fast?”
He stiffens when your arms come to wrap around his bicep, resuming your ramble about some recipe you wanted to try tonight. Macarons…or something. He doesn’t pay much attention, because he knows whatever you end up making will be good anyway.
“—Are you listening, Sakura?”
The clueless look he gives you confirms it. “So you weren’t. I had a feeling— but it’s okay.” You giggle. “But you didn’t answer my question from earlier either. How’d you get into a fight?”
His eyebrows furrow deeply as he decides whether or not he should tell you. “They were….” he clicks his tongue angrily, “they were talking about you when you walked by.”
You can feel his muscles tense as he deepens his scowl, still trying to fight off the blush plastered across his face. “I just gave ‘em what they deserved.”
HAYATO SUO. referred to as she/her, mentions of how you’re dressed
“What a bitch. She was totally asking for it.”
I know— dressed like a whore.”
Suo stands up from the bench outside your local convenience store, hands dusting off the dirt on his pants. You had asked him to wait outside earlier because ‘you wanted to grab him a super delicious snack that he would most definitely love.’
He had a feeling the two dirty men who entered the store minutes later were bad news, so he was already on high alert before listening in.
“That whore— you mean my girlfriend?” Suo’s voice comes out calm, a stark contrast to the sickening anger and pressure he feels building up inside his chest.
“Huh—oh. Yeah.” One of them chuckles, jutting their thumb at the entrance. “That bitch inside your girl? You let her prance around with her tits hanging out for everyone to see?”
He's calm and composed as they size him up, their chins tilting up to look down at him. “She's pretty, isn't she?” and Suo fails to stifle the chuckle that escapes his lips. “Did she reject you too harshly for your liking?”
One of them balls his fists, muttering profanities under his breath as he leans closer to him. “Now how'd you know that? You should really teach that bitch some fucking manners.” He reaches forward to grab Suo by the collar, eyes blinking in confusion when he finds himself spun behind Suo seconds later, feet struggling to find their balance.
“—The fuck did you do?”
“It’s a bad habit of hers,” Suo continues. “I understand it though, not wanting to be around a pathetic thing like you.” The edges of his lips tug into a faint smile.
The other man’s eyebrows twitch, spitting empty threats as he he throws a wide swing, only to find himself reduced to his knees seconds later. “T-the fuck...” he grumbles to himself— he could have sworn he could practically see his fist connect. What happened?
“You'd be better off looking for someone to protect yourself the way I do for her.” His words are mocking as he heads towards the store’s entrance. “And— it'd be really unfortunate if i see something like this happen again.”
TOMA HIRAGI.
“H-Hiragi? What are you doing?”
Your lips are pressed in a nervous line as your hands come to shyly rest on his chest, sucking in a breath when his arms come to roughly cage you against the train’s walls, strong body towering just over yours.
“Do you…need more space?” You whisper, heart racing at the proximity. You can smell his cologne so well at this distance.
Hiragi simply shakes his head, distracted gaze shifting between you and something behind him every few seconds. “It’s okay.”
He swears his stomach isn't churning like this without good reason. It’s not just a coincidence that the same person who he had noticed eyeing you at the boba shop had gotten onto the same train. He could let it go at that, but the same man had been slowly worming his way through the crowd to get closer to the two of you. And while he’s not certain, he thought he saw the man take out his phone and try and angle it beneath you, but not before jolting and dropping his phone onto the floor when Hiragi's hands abruptly slammed against the wall beside you.
The train suddenly rocks, sliding his phone to the other side of the train, and you’re knocked off balance, face slamming against Hiragi's chest. “S-sorry!”
“It’s okay.” He gives you a smile, hand coming to cradle the back of your head and pull you closer. “You okay?”
“I’m okay...” you mumble, rubbing the bridge of your nose. “Your chest is hard.”
He responds with a light chuckle. It’ll be okay like this, he thinks. He’ll protect you with his body for now, and figure out what to do with that guy later.
KIRYU MITSUKI. ‘pretty thing’
“It’s no wonder she doesn't like you,” Kiryu sighs. “You're gross.”
Your mouth is ajar as you stare at the state of the man who was harassing you only moments ago, his unconscious body resting neatly against the wall after Kiryu had dragged him there.
“Sorry you had to watch that, pretty thing.” His hand comes to gently interlace with yours. “But he didn't leave me with much of a choice, did he?”
“It’s okay.” Your voice drops to a whisper. “That was so cool of you.”
His eyes widen a bit before his lips curl into a small smile. “Oh? You think so?”
“Mhm. I don't know what would’ve happened to me if you were there...” your voice trails off a bit.
You really don't know what would have happened, because it's not like you know how to fight or anything. Getting hit on is enough to make you nervous, so a pushy guy like that was too much— you froze up as soon as he started spitting threats after you expressed your disinterest.
There’s a light squeeze around your hands, and you’re reminded of this gentle warmth that Kiryu always brings with him. “Don't worry about it.” He gives you a small smile. “I’ll just need to accompany you more often when you go out. It’s no problem.”
KYOTARO SUGISHITA.
“You’re like a bodyguard, Kyo.”
You giggle at the huff beside you. “How’d you even react that fast?”
It all happened within a second. You were walking beside him, stopped for a brief second to bend down and peer at the plushies lining the shop window, not noticing the man approaching you— his grimy fingers coming to take a peek under your skirt. Before you had even registered the feeling of the cloth moving, there was a loud crack, and the man was on the floor, groaning with his hands covering his bloodied face and a very angry Sugishita on top of him.
“He made me angry.”
Of course he would be. And if you weren’t with your boyfriend, it would be an entirely different story. You’d bring along your assortment of self defense items, ranging from pepper sprays to taser lipsticks— and you’d be a thousand times more cautious. Pay extra close attention to everything around you.
With Sugishita, however, it’s different. You think of it as being able to turn off your brain… or something like that. Whatever lets you truly relax and enjoy your time with him, and it’s always okay because your boyfriend is there to protect you. “Well, don’t be so mad, cutie.” You smile, your fingers reaching to interlace with his as he tenses at the nickname.
“Everything is okay— I’m okay. I’ll even get us smoothies to help lighten the mood.”
He lets you drag him to your favorite smoothie shop in silence— still fuming about the incident. He wonders why you’re not shaken up. Ifnhe had been one second later, that piece of shit would have lifted up your skirt. In public. His jaw clenches at the thought, angry eyes darting at any anyone who dares look your direction.
“Why’re…” his voice trails off, remembering what Umemiya said about toning down his choice of words around others. “Why’re you so happy?”
“Hmm? I’m not too worried.” You laugh. “You’re my bodyguard right? Nothing will happen if you’re here.”
part 2
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