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queensunshinee · 3 months ago

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His favorite toy || Art Donaldson x reader

Rating: Explicit (18+) Warnings: SMUT (p in v sex, fingering), drinking, super toxic relationship, reader is kinda pathetic :(

Word Count: 3.4k

His favorit toy

Sometimes I think he was born to be in love with her, just like I was born to be in love with him. Unconditionally, without consequences. Just like that, love. And it’s not fair that someone can take so much from you and give back so little. It’s not fair that someone can control your entire range of emotions and yet not be affected by them. It’s not fair that Art Donaldson was born to revolve around Tashi Duncan while I was born for the leftovers he allows himself to leave for me.

“You can stay,” I mumbled as he started getting dressed. “I wish I could, I’ve got morning practice tomorrow,” he said without looking at me. ‘That didn’t stop you from coming inside me,’ I wanted to retort but just nodded and turned my back to him. He stopped dressing for a moment, and I knew he was looking at me, wondering if this time would be the time I’d stop letting him emotionally abuse me. Wondering if this would be the time I’d tell him that if he didn’t stay, he could go find someone else to fuck.

“Baby, I’d love to stay,” he sat at the edge of the bed and gave my shoulder a little shake. “It’s not a big deal, Art. You’re a big boy, you can do whatever you want,” I mumbled toward him. And it sounded petty and bitter. But I felt petty and bitter. I could feel the bitterness on the tip of my tongue. I could feel the sag of the crappy dorm bed swallowing me up. “I want to stay, of course I do,” his voice was fake. Like he was talking to a baby who didn’t understand circumstances or an adult’s schedule. “You know I want to,” he continued, this time planting a small kiss on the shoulder he had shaken earlier.

“When someone wants something, they do it. You wanted to fuck me, you fucked me. You wanted to come inside me, you came. You want to leave, you’re leaving. Just don’t excuse it with morning practice, you’re making me feel like an idiot,” I mumbled. He was silent, not expecting that little monologue. Not expecting that I’d finally tell him he’s acting like an asshole. “I don’t think I’m making you feel that way, you’re making yourself feel that way,” he sighed and stood up, going back to getting dressed while I lay on my back. “Are you serious?” I shot back.

“We don’t have to do this, I’m not forcing you to sleep with me, and if it’s making you feel this bad, we really don’t need to.” He said in a calm, almost calculated tone. Clear of emotions. I rolled my eyes in response and turned away again, not wanting to look at him anymore. “I’m gonna go, I’ll see you tomorrow in class?” he asked, and I felt his lips brush against my hair before he left. And if it weren’t for his smell buried in the pillow and his cum still dripping from me with every movement, I would’ve been sure I imagined him. And in my imagination, he was beautiful and sweet and mine. More than anything, mine.

In statistics class, for a change, I sat next to Janet and Shane, and I could feel Art’s blue eyes boring into my back. Usually, I wait for him with coffee at the back of the auditorium. That’s how we met—he was late to class one day, and the only open seat was next to me. He was funny and charming, almost shy when he asked for notes before the first exam. Almost embarrassed the first time I placed a cup of coffee on his desk when he arrived. Almost apologetic the first time he kissed me.

And for a change, I didn’t waste extra money I don’t even have to buy him a cup of coffee. For a change, I sat with friends I hadn’t spoken to in a while. And for a change, I let him wonder if it was over or if I was bluffing. His eyes were glued to me the whole lecture—neither of us was listening to what the professor was saying, and I know it’s going to come back to bite me.

“Are you going to be mad at me for much longer?” I heard a voice from behind me as I walked down the hall, engrossed in my phone. “I’m not mad at you, Art,” I mumbled without stopping. His strides were longer than mine, and he didn’t have to try too hard to catch up. “So why’d you switch seats?” I could guess he was rolling his eyes, but I didn’t look at him. “Because I wanted to sit with Janet and Shane,” I replied. “Since when are you friends with Janet and Shane?” he asked. “If you ever bothered to ask who my friends are, you’d know I’m friends with Janet and Shane,” I stopped this time and looked at him. He looked composed, like a lawyer who had prepared his most persuasive argument.

“Don’t you think you’re overreacting? I had practice at five in the morning, Peaches.” He sighed, looking at me with big eyes. “I can’t believe we’re arguing over this. We never argue.” He stepped closer to me, and I backed away until there was nowhere left to go. Around us, students rushed to their classes or dorms while I was trapped between Art Donaldson and a concrete wall. “We’re not arguing, Art. I just needed a break,” I replied, feeling less sure of myself as his breaths nearly blended with mine. “A break from what?” his hands brushed against my cheeks. “You know what,” I wondered if he could hear the desperation screaming in my voice too. “Baby,” he sighed. “You don’t need a break. It’s just a busy period.” He kissed me on the cheek. “You can’t keep being mad at me, come on, Peaches,” he said in a playful tone. “Look how cute I am.” He chuckled and nibbled on my earlobe.

“We’re in the middle of the hallway,” I mumbled, feeling myself smile uncontrollably, giving in to his goofiness. “I don’t care. You can’t stay mad at me anymore.” This time we both chuckled. “Here we go,” he continued, and his lips found mine for a short kiss. “I need you,” he declared, and I nodded into his shirt. He needs me, how could I refuse that?

Turns out, it was easier than I thought to take a break from Art Donaldson. All that mattered to him and his ego was knowing that I wasn’t actively mad at him. That he wasn’t the bad guy in the story. That he was okay.

In the following two weeks, I kept sitting next to him in statistics until he found another seat and texted me a simple, 'Haven’t seen Dylan in a while' as an excuse, and I smiled at him without showing my teeth. From being inside me three times a week and whispering in my ear that I was the most beautiful girl he’d ever known, he stopped looking me in the eyes and acted as if we barely knew each other.

And it was almost okay, because that’s what I told him I wanted. He was the one who insisted he needed me.

A month passed, and life returned to an almost-normal routine—going from classes to work, to hanging out on Janet’s rooftop. “You know what annoys me?” I asked, taking a drag from the cigarette rolled with weed she’d prepared. “What annoys you?” she asked, chuckling. “That he looks so damn good.” I said, and her chuckle turned into full laughter. “Oh, yeah, the star of Stanford’s tennis team looks good; that’s usually how it goes with athletes,” she said, half-sarcastically. “I’m telling you, if he didn’t look so good, he wouldn’t have been able to pull off half the shit he put me through,” I added and coughed after another drag. “Oh god, you need a new hookup. I can’t hear any more about Art Donaldson.” Janet couldn’t stop laughing. “Do you think the sky is green?” she suddenly asked, staring at the clouds. “No, I think you’ve smoked too much green,” I gave her a little shove that knocked her sideways as we both laughed.

That’s how we found ourselves at a party later that night. We didn’t exactly know whose party it was, but a friend of a friend texted Janet, and that was enough to go. She fixed the makeup that had smudged around my eyes just before we walked in. I was wearing her black dress, which was at least one size too small for me, and I had to keep pulling it down every few seconds. “Stop it, you look hot. You’re just overthinking it. Go with the flow.” She pulled me inside, and I nodded as we walked. Just go with the flow. What could happen if I just go with the flow?

One beer turned into two and a shot of gin. By that point, half the night felt like a blur, and the other half felt dizzying, but I was dancing with Janet and Shane, who had joined us, and eventually, I went outside to smoke a cigarette and get some air.

Someone handed me a cup, and I looked to the side, seeing Art. “It’s water,” he mumbled. “Thanks,” I replied. “Are you having fun?” he asked, his gaze not leaving me. “Yeah, you?” I asked back. “Yeah,” his voice was calm, “You usually don’t like things like this,” he said after a few seconds of silence. “What’s your point?” I asked, feeling my patience wearing thin with the weird small talk. “What are you doing here, I guess?” he asked quietly. “I can go to a fucking party, Art,” I felt my jaw clench with frustration. “I didn’t say you couldn’t—” “So what are you saying?” I cut him off.

“I just said I’m not used to seeing you at parties, that’s all,” he muttered.

“Hey, I’ve been looking for you. Are you coming inside? Who’s this?” Tashi Duncan’s voice was as familiar as her face. She hosted Stanford’s sports program, which they probably forced her to do. Her and Art’s posters were plastered everywhere. “Oh, this is (Y/N), she’s in my statistics class,” Art said quickly, and Tashi nodded. “Nice, is he any good at it?” she asked, half-joking, like someone who's trying to break the ice in a situation she’d stumbled into. “No, he’s shitty. My friends are waiting for me, thanks for the water,” I replied and went back inside without looking back, wondering if this is what it feels like when your heart breaks. If from now on, every time I see Art Donaldson, it’ll shatter a little more.

I sat on the couch, as Shane had told me to, when someone sat next to me. I turned slowly because I couldn’t manage more than that. “Hey,” he had green eyes and blond hair, “I’m Luke,” he offered a hand for a handshake. “We had Intro to Economics together last semester,” he added with a smile. “Oh,” was all I could manage to say back. “We’re also in a few classes together now. You sit one row below me in Micro,” he continued, and I just stared at the guy talking to me.

“Did we talk before?” I asked. “Sorry if that’s rude, I’m just drunk,” I quickly added, hoping he wouldn’t be offended. I was just trying to recall my interactions with people, and I didn’t remember him. He looked good enough that I should’ve remembered him. “Actually, no. You always seem in your own world, and I didn’t want to interrupt,” he said, still smiling. “I see,” I said. “Actually, no. What do you mean, in my own world? I’m right here in your world, you know,” I kept talking faster than I probably should. “Oh, I didn’t mean to offend you. You’re just usually either with friends or scribbling something,” I saw he got nervous.

“Well,” I tried to remember his name, “Luke, you can always talk to me. I’m usually bored in those classes anyway,” I laughed, and he laughed too, clearly feeling relieved. “Can I get your number?” he asked. “Just in case we make plans or something,” he quickly added when he saw the surprised look on my face. I handed him my phone, and I couldn’t tell if the warmth spreading through my cheeks was from the alcohol or the situation. “You have a message from Art Donaldson,” he said, handing my phone back after adding his number. And just like that, the momentary euphoria ended. Art had to remind me at every possible moment that he existed.

If there’s something Art hates, it’s being ignored. Being left on ‘read.’ I guess that’s why he knocked on my door at 3 AM, incredibly drunk. “Your dress is so pretty,” he mumbled, reciting the message he sent me earlier at the party. “Art, it’s really late—” “He’s flirting with you because your dress is pretty,” he recited the next message. I memorized them so well that I could recite them along with him. “Because you’re pretty,” he continued to the next message. “I’m sorry I introduced you like that, I panicked,” the next message. “You’re not just someone who studies statistics with me,” another message. “Art—” I tried to interrupt the show in front of me. “I really am shitty,” he continued. “Are you done?” I asked, even though I knew the answer, that was the last message he sent.

“Did you lose your phone or something, Peaches?” he asked, half-laughing, half-sarcastic. “You’re drunk,” I sighed. “You didn’t answer me. I thought something happened,” he mumbled. “Liar,” I rolled my eyes. “You’re right, I knew nothing happened. I thought you were fucking that new guy you found,” he shot back. “Wow, Art, you think amazing things about me. You really know me well,” I returned sarcastically. “Anything else?” I asked, ignoring the fact that he was getting closer to me with giant steps. “I missed you, Peach,” he mumbled, his breath, which smelled like his usual gum and beer, mixing with mine again.

“So why did you disappear on me?” I asked. And it came out more desperate than I planned. More pathetic than I expected. I could imagine the smirk spreading on his smug face as I closed my eyes. “You asked for a break. I just gave you what you asked for. I couldn’t hold back today though, you were so beautiful, Peach. The most beautiful at that shitty party. So, the break’s over, okay?” he said, and in his drunk mind, it was probably a logical sentence. His lips brushed against mine, and finally, he kissed me like a starving man who stumbled upon his favorite meal. He had never kissed me like this. He was always gentle in his movements, calculated in every shift.

Not this time. His hands brushed over every part of my body they could reach, I don’t know how I found myself without the shirt I was sleeping in, but I stood in front of him only in my underwear, and he took a step back, looking at me in the dark, as if he was an expert in night vision. As if he was trying to capture me in his memory. “You’re drunk,” I said again. “Not even close,” he replied. “Please, Peach. I’ll be good. I need you,” his kisses went down to my neck, and he led me to the bed. Everything was sloppy and messy, but I found myself under him in seconds, with him also already without a shirt.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said. And that was the usual mantra, he says all the right words and touches all the right places. He knows what makes me tick. He knows what gives me chills and which position I like best. I felt tears forming in the corners of my eyes, as if waiting for me to blink. Then his lips covered them, gently, and if someone had seen the scene from the side, they might dare to think it was love. “Fuck, baby, I’ll make you happy. You want that? You want me?” he asked, pulling away from me for a second and looking at me with half-plea, in almost mania.

“Yes, Art,” I said quietly. “Yes, what?” he asked with his typical determination. “Yes, I want you,” I returned, running a gentle hand over his face, and he repositioned himself over me. “That’s my girl,” he groaned. “I missed you so much. How needy you are. Don’t worry, baby, I’ll help you. I’ll give you what you need,” his hand pinched my left nipple, and I felt like he was punishing me for the last month. “Mmm Art,” it came out as half-whimper, half-cry. “Shhhh, you can take it, right? You missed this?” he asked, and I nodded. “Of course you can, a slut like you, a month without her favorite cock, my poor thing. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you,” he said, and I felt his hand, the one not torturing my chest, settle between my legs. “Art,” another half-moan, half-whimper.

“Fuck, Peach, you’re so wet,” he chuckled nastily and pushed my panties aside, not waiting too long before he slipped two fingers where I needed him. “Oh my god,” I mumbled, closing my eyes. “No no, look at me. Eyes on me.” He bit my neck and pinched my chest harder. I felt my whole body tighten, and I tried to keep quiet so as not to wake the entire dorm hall. “You’re so easy, Peach,” he said while I clenched around his hand. “Uh-huh, fuck, Art,” I tried to catch his mouth with mine in a half-movement, and he moved his face away with a chuckle, as if trying to prove how pathetic I was now. “Please,” I mumbled. “Please what?” he asked, again close to my face. “Please, kiss me,” I gave in, unable to act like a woman who respects herself. Within seconds, his lips were on mine, and his cock was inside me, filling me. “There you go,” he mumbled into my lips, stroking my hair with one hand and holding my hand with the other. The sad truth is, we’ve never fucked like this. It’s always in the most complicated positions you can think of, never missionary, never in a way that would confuse me into thinking that maybe Art Donaldson loves me.

“You’re so good, baby,” he said, thrusting as deep as he could. Slowly. As if he had all the time in the world. “I missed you. It was like losing a limb, losing your pussy,” another deep thrust. “But you’re mine again, right?” he asked, and all I could do was nod while his hand left mine and started making circles on my clit. His rhythm became chaotic, and he looked at me with a look that told me he was close. “I know, baby,” I mumbled, holding onto his neck, and he nodded. “I think I love you,” he mumbled into my lips with closed eyes. “I love you too,” I whispered. His cum filled me, just like every time since the first time he came inside me.

He kissed me again and stayed inside me for a few more seconds, his weight almost crushing me before he pulled out of me and moved to the side, placing my head on his chest, trying to find a comfortable position on the awful dorm bed. We both panted heavily as his hand made small movements through my hair. “I’ll get you something to clean up…” he mumbled, and I nodded, a bit stunned. Because that wasn’t a typical Art move. He never thought about it deeply enough. He threw a shirt he picked up from the floor at me and studied me for a moment as he started getting dressed.

“You’re not staying?” I asked and sighed. “I can’t, I have practice in the morning,” he replied. And just when I thought something had changed, Art and I stayed exactly the same.

Hey there guys, it's been a while since I wrote anything and as much as I love TTOOL, and I love the story deeply, I wanted to explore a new concept. It's the first time I have written in a xreader style, so I hope it turned out OK. Can't wait to hear your thoughts, it's my favorite part 💜

Using the taglist from the main story, hopefully you'll like that too: @lydiaxkirby @suzysface tqd4455 @soberbabes @nina357 @lamoursansfin @marley1773 @ruyaas-world @apolloscastellan @primlovesdilfs @fangirl-kimora @serenadingtigers @imbabycowboy @do-it-for-kicks @izzywags478 @4deline08 @igotmajordaddyissues @jackierose902109 @ganana @yoitsme-04 @swetearss

#challengers fic #art donaldson #art donaldson x reader #challengers #art donaldson smut

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chuulyssa · 8 months ago

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🇭 🇴 🇲 🇪 🇼 🇴 🇷 🇰 .

ʟɪɢʜᴛ ʏᴀɢᴀᴍɪ !

↷ A/N ─ the long-awaited full ver of this drabble is here! will proofread this tomorrow oml it's 3am here again

★ COUNT ─ 1.3k

!! TAGS ─ light x reader, pre-kira!light, gn!reader, oral (m receiving), deep throating, slight (?) exhibitionism

★ PROLOGUE ─ giving your boyfriend head under the desk while he studies

SMUT, 18+, MDNI

The two of you were walking back home after school, neither of you speaking a word as you went on in silence. It was like a silent agreement that you would go to his house today instead of yours. After all, pissed as you were, academic stress did not help in uplifting your mood. Luckily, you knew just the way to relieve your worries while also getting your assignments done - and so did Light.

"Hello, dear," his mother greeted you warmly. "I assume he's tutoring you again? I sure hope he isn't too harsh on you."

"It's alright, Mrs Yagami," you smiled back at her, inwardly elated at the fact that some day the title you called her would belong to you.

"I don't understand, dear," she continued, "why do you need tutions from him in the first place? I mean, you do quite well as it is."

"I don't mind it," Light interrupted her before going up to his room.

You took off your shoes and shot her another kind smile before following your boyfriend. Behind you, you could hear Mrs Yagami mumble, "Kids these days."

The door shut behind you. Light immediately kept his bag in a corner and sat down on his chair. You looked at him with a bored expression.

"Already? You're not taking the 'tutoring' part seriously, now, are you?"

"Well, I have to," he said, taking out his Maths notebook and pen. "Your mother-in-law has entrusted me with this task."

You rolled your eyes.

"I don't study."

"I do," he shrugged. "And so, you must too."

"Nah," you flopped on his bed in a starfish position. "I'm going to catch some sleep."

"No, you aren't," Light said firmly and got up to hold you by your arms. He dragged you towards the table, pulling out a chair for you to sit near the desk so that you could keep up with his lessons.

"I'm not studying with you," you scoffed.

Light stared at you for some time before muttering, "Fine. You know what? Fine. Go to hell."

You chuckled and he shot you a petty glare. Opening his notebook, he started solving questions rapidly, not sparing you even a single glance and pretending as if you were as good as part of the wall.

You sat there doodling on a spare book you found. Your chin was on the table, and you were rethinking your decision to come to his house. With a sigh, you realized that you'd have been sleeping soundly in your cozy bed right now had you gone to your own house.

After a few minutes, you saw Light's pen slow down a little and an irritable look on his face.

"Y/N, look, if you can't make yourself useful, then you might as well go home. Seriously."

"What?"

"I said go home."

You blinked in confusion. Useful? Like how? You looked out of the window thinking of excuses to stay in his room. It may not have occurred to you then, but you really did want to stay in his company after all.

And then you got a brilliant idea. Of course! It'd help both you and him destress, and probably leave him flustered enough to do your homework as well. You could-

"Give you a blowjob," you repeated your suggestion to him while he looked at you with wide eyes.

"...Y/N-"

But you cut him off by pushing the chair you were sitting on away and dropping to your knees. He looked at you with a bewildered expression as you fumbled with his belt, desperate to free his obviously strained erection.

"Really, now?" you said in a mocking tone. "Already? I didn't even do anything yet!"

"Well, if you're gonna sit there looking like that, this is bound to happen."

"You could've been subtle about it though," you pushed the chair away to get a clear view and comfortable access to his cock.

"Wait, you're serious about this?"

"Um, yeah?"

"But what if someone heard us?" He protested. "My parents are down there. Heck, Sayu is down there! This is not a sound proof room, we're gonna get c- ah!"

You cut him off with a little lick to the top of his cock. With your right hand you gripped his base and lowered yourself to him.

"Say it again," you said with an amused smile on your face, lips pressed against his dick. "Let me hear your pretty voice."

He was silent for a moment. Then, he slowly reached out to dig his fingers inside your hair giving you the consent you were looking for.

"Thats a good boy," you whispered, making him shiver as your warm breath breezed his cock.

Your grip on his dick tightened ever so slightly as you got ready to suck him. His fingers were tangled in your hair while his other hand tried it's best to solve the math equations for his assignments.

You licked the tip again. Light's hips jerked upwards but you pushed him down with all your might.

"Stop teasing," he breathed, looking away as if to hide his fluster.

You rolled your eyes before finally taking him, inch by inch, inside your mouth. You felt your lips stretching to accommodate his thick dick. It was an uncomfortable experience, but the little grunts that escaped your boyfriend made it worth the pain.

As your lips hit his base, you felt your saliva drooling over his cock, and immediately lifted your head back up, just to take him entirely again.

Light groaned. You tried to smile, but your work was more important. You bobbed your head up and down his dick, occasionally tracing his balls with the tips of your fingers.

"Oh god, no, what if someone sees us," Light said between moans of pleasure. "But, baby, please don't stop now."

You lifted your head completely to look him in the eye. He whined at the lost contact, and tried to push you back.

"Did you lock the door?" You said with an annoyed huff.

"Fuck, no, let me-"

You gave his dick a few pumps to stop him.

"Too late now. I guess everyone's watching Light Yagami groan and come all over his study table."

Light widened his eyes, which was a struggle considering your soft hands manipulating his movements.

You laughed at his pathetic state before taking him in again. You bobbed your head up and down, tapping his inner thigh in a rhythm.

Under your touch, meanwhile, Light was a whimpering, moaning mess. One hand was still in your hair while the other hand completely abandoned his futile efforts of doing his assignment and now lay scratching his table.

"Oh, oh god, oh fuck, yout ake me in so well," he threw his head back with pleasure. "More, more. God, i think I'm coming already."

At this, you gave him a smug look and pushed your head down on his cock until it hit your throat. Your eyes watered, but you didn't let it ruin the moment. Light almost let out a loud cry, both his hands attempting to muffle his voice as if on cue.

You choked and gagged, while he groaned and kicked his legs in the air.

"Fuck, fuck, shit, shit, I'm coming."

Your nails dug into his thighs to form crescent moons as he emptied his cum into your throat, careful not to let any of it spill on the ground or on the chair - anywhere his mom or sister could examine and catch him red handed. After making sure to take all of it in, you finally lifted your head up, licking his entire dick in one, long stroke before licking your lips and winking at him.

Light groaned at the smirk on your face.

"You're such a bad influence. Bad influence on the perfect Light Yagami."

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tagging: @zharickmedrano

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ihopeiexplode · 6 months ago

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BasketballPlayer!Sukuna Headcanons

(he's your boyfriend in this)

Content: Fluff(?) . Slight Angst(?) .

A/N: okay guys u can send in threats again I forgot about Abt denial 🔥🔥(I also have no knowledge Abt basketball what so ever🧍‍♀️🧍‍♀️)

. BasketballPlayer!Sukuna is the type to make it publicly known that both of you are dating, he could be interviewed by someone first thing he'll mention is your name, most of the time he isn't even talking about how the preparations for his game went, he's just talking about you

Safe to say everyone who tries interviewing him knows he'll just be talking about you instead of himself...

. BasketballPlayer!Sukuna who would always make sure you're there during his practices and games with the excuse of you being there is his good luck charm he just likes to show off how good he is in basketball

. BasketballPlayer!Sukuna who hates it when you two have an argument right before a game, he absolutely hates it when his girl is mad at him how could he play well when you're not there to watch him and cheer him on? But surprise your there watching him just making sure to stay seated somewhere far so he won't see you

But of course His mood would change when one of his teammates told him they saw you somewhere in the crowd

. BasketballPlayer!Sukuna who always always plays roughly and aggressively whenever you two have another petty argument

. BasketballPlayer!Sukuna who gets easily jealous and possessive when another man talks to you while you're giving him the silent treatment, just because of that he'll always make sure to flirt with the girl interviewing him and making sure you'll see the whole thing

. BasketballPlayer!Sukuna who loves seeing you wear his jersey, I mean why would he? Your wearing a shirt with his signature number and his last name

. BasketballPlayer!Sukuna who hates it whenever you act sad because of some stupid rumor you heard ever since you two started dating

Sure he was a playboy before you two started dating, but the only reason for that is because he never met you yet, seriously the term that your friends keep telling you is ridiculous.

“Don't date basketball players or they'll play your heart like they play basketball” as if he'll do that to you. (Thankyou @/aireia for this line also double credits to rais friend for making the line‼️‼️)

. BasketballPlayer!Sukuna who destroyed his own teammate during a practice just because he asked if Sukuna could set him up on a date with you? Doesn't he know you're taken?

Safe to say the guy never spoke to you or Sukuna ever again 🗣️🗣️‼️🔥

. BasketballPlayer!Sukuna who loves it whenever you overpamper him just because he got hurt during a game, so whenever he gets hurt he won't accept any help unless it you who's helping him,

he'll even purposely hurt himself if your giving silent treatment just so you could pay attention to him again but if that doesn't work?

He could play with a broken ankle and refuse any medical help unless it your helping him, he'd rather play with a broken ankle than receive help from someone that isn't you

. BasketballPlayer!Sukuna is the type to say "This one's for you" whenever you watch him practice, and every time he does this he's always looking right at you due to how confident he is that he won't miss If he ever misses he'll blame it on you saying how you distracted him

. BasketballPlayer!Sukuna who hates it whenever his teammates tease him on how he changed and became less aggressive when you two started dating, there right of course he just doesn't wanna admit how he takes his games much more seriously just because you're watching him and how he'll always win every game just to see that stupid smile on your face.

. BasketballPlayer!Sukuna who only lets you and you alone interact with him whenever he loses a game, only because he gets absolutely aggressive whenever he loses and his teammates are aware of this of course, so imagine their surprise when Sukuna isn't verbally degrading you while you talked to him

[⛩️] @: Likes & Reblogs R appreciated! ^^

#jjk Sukuna #ryomen sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x you #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #jjk ryomen sukuna

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mascdestr0yer · 7 months ago

Note

can you do a friends to lovers Paige x reader

Private, but not a secret

Warnings: some fluff, and the reader (you duh) being oblivious. It's a little cringe, but you'll live

Paige bueckers x fem!reader

Synopsis: You and Paige have been friends since the seventh grade, now you're both seniors at Hopkins highschool, as graduation nears Paige still hasn't told you what offer she's accepted yet. But you haven't either, the conversation never comes up until now. finding out you both are going to UCONN was exciting, but what you both didn't know, it would actually push you away.

THANK YOU FOR THE REQUEST ML💕

You're waiting for Paige outside of her classroom, of course she's the last one out. She finally walked out with that stupid grin of hers,"we still going to the mall after school?" She asked, as we walked towards the cafeteria, dapping a few people up when they passed by. Intertwining our fingers, continuing to push through the crowd of students.

"I don't know, I might-"You started, she sucked her teeth, letting go of your hand. "Paige,"

"be honest, do you even like hanging out with me anymore?" She questioned me, still keeping her gaze straight ahead. You looked up at her, quickly fixing your gaze straight ahead.

"why would you even ask that?" You were a little confused on why she became so upset. Trying to touch her hand to comfort her but she snatched it away.

"every time I ask you to hang out, you say yes. Then when the time comes, you start to make up some lame excuses." Paige obviously irritated, runs her fingers through her hair. "You told me that you couldn't make it to my game because of family issues, then you post on your story you at the beach with your Friends." Her voice laced with jealousy, sitting down in the cafeteria. You sat down across from her, fidgeting with your fingers.

"Star's boyfriend cheated on her, we had to comfort her." You mumbled, slightly embarrassed by the way she called you out. Paige scoffed in response, rolling her eyes in the process.

"then why did you lie? There was no point, you had a valid reason not to come, so why lie to me." She interrogated, resting her arms on the table in between you both.

"can we drop it?" You pleaded, clearly wanting nothing to do with the situation as it was petty and unnecessary. Paige on the other hand, wanted to keep questioning you. She knew the "argument"was stupid, but she continued to poke at it with a stick.

"answer the question." She "demanded" (she's letting out her inner alpha), looking directly in your eyes.

"I don't know, thought you would be mad at me because I couldn't come to your game, so I thought maybe if I made the situation sound more intense you wouldn't get mad."

"I'm more angry at the fact that you lied to me," she grumbled, picking at her nails, not daring to look you in the eyes anymore.

"can you forgive me?" You asked, poking her cheek gently. She grips your wrist to stop you from poking her again, her grip getting tighter making it hurt.

"only if you come to the mall with me," she smirked, making her grip tighter and more painful.

I winced in pain, "okay okay, just let go!" She quickly dropped her hands with a slight smirk. "Paige that's not funny, I will beat your ass."i scolded her, flicking her neck.

"oww, that's not fair you have acrylics." She complained, whining ever so slightly.

"so?"

┌──❀*̥˚───❀*̥˚─┐

It's been about a week since then, you and Paige are sitting on the floor of her room. You do her hair while she yaps away. "UCONN is a really good school and my mom is proud of me ow-" she begins complaining about you pulling too tight and you not doing it right, you literally do her hair every time.

"hush little girl, or else I'll leave you like this." You warned her, with a comb in your hand.

She nods quickly, sitting back down in between your thighs, her back against your chest since she was taller than you. "I mainly chose UCONN because it's good for basketball and I know you're going, which is a bonus."

"I never told you where I'm going, how do you know that..." Your voice trailed off, a little scared or confused, both.

"how do I know that? I saw the UCONN merchandise in your trunk and your dad told me." She explains, drawing shapes on your thighs with her fingertip.

"when was this?" Tilting your head to the side as you braided the girl's hair, wanting to know more about the situation.

"I don't know, a little UCONN's acceptance letters came out. I asked what school you're going to, thinking it was UCLA, but I was clearly wrong."

"UCONN gave me a full ride, so I chose it. I didn't expect you to copy me and follow me to school too."

"you know you love it," she teased, sitting up when you stopped touching her hair signaling you were finished.

"Love is an overstatement," you began standing up, walking out of Paige's room.

"you finish my hair and leave me alone," she sighed, being dramatic once again. She begins following you downstairs, she watched you slip your black Crocs on and walked out the front door. Like the creep she is, she watches you through the window to see what you're doing. She watches you grab something out of the backseat of your car and walk back inside.

┌──❀*̥˚───❀*̥˚─┐

When You and Paige entered college, you guys tried, I mean tried to make time for each other, classes, basketball (Paige), and your studies. If Paige were to describe her friendship with you the first year of college, it would be called a disaster. You both just needed to adjust to college and your new schedules, wrong. Paige was always so busy she really pushed you away, basketball was important to her and you were proud of her.

The less time the two of you spent together, the more you both faded away from each other. Well, until junior year, you were the girl's volleyball team media girl(inspired)for two years, meaning you went to home games and away games, meetings, their practice, and etc.

When one of the sports directors heard about the women's basketball team lacking in the media department she had a meeting with you almost immediately.

"Listen, you've been doing an extraordinary job and I have a great offer for you," Ms. Adams leans in slightly, her arms resting on her desk.

"if it's about the wbb team, I would love to, but I don't know if julie is ready nor capable to run the volleyball team without me,"

"I've already talked to her, she said it's okay,"

"I mean, if you say so,"

"excellent, Geno !" She calls for someone, a mature man walks in, clipboard in hand. "Y/n this is Coach Geno for the wbb, Geno this y/n your new media girl."

We both shake hands, "he's here to introduce you to the team, the people you be with for the next two years."

You followed Coach Geno to the basketball gym, where the girls were "practicing", "alright, huddle up !" They quickly walked over to both of you, as you try to adjust your camera, you could feel someone staring into your soul, you looked up and saw her.

"This is y/n, she will be the head of this teams media department."

┌──❀*̥˚───❀*̥˚─┐

After a few practices, the team is starting to really grow on you. I was sitting down on the bleachers in the gym, I felt a tap on my shoulder.

"yes," you answered monotoned, not bothering to look up from your laptop.

"can we talk?" A familiar voice asks, I looked up seeing a certain blonde.

"yeah, we can talk later, I need to finish-"

"no, I want to talk now, come on."she cut you off, you rolled your eyes as you sat your laptop down and followed her outside. The taller girl hugs you immediately, burying her face in your neck, you hesitated and eventually hugged her back.

"I'm sorry, for pushing you away," she pulled away wiping her tears, now you were even more confused, why was she crying.

"what- it's not your fault, you were busy with basketball and classes,"

"no, you don't understand, I wasn't busy, I was scared,"

"scared ? Scared of what ?"

"this," she grabs your face, kissing you. Your heart was racing, you could feel your face burning up, you kissed her back.

When the two of you pulled away she looked directly into your eyes, "you don't know how long I've been waiting to do that,"she smirked, holding your waist pulling you closer.

"how long?"

"since the seventh grade, I mean wasn't it obvious? It was really obvious during high school, how did you not notice?"

"I don't know, I thought we were just good friends,"

"you're an idiot," she chuckled, caressing the side of your face.

"I'm the idiot? You went two years without talking to me because of some stupid crush,"

Her face drops, "that's low." You laughed at her expression.

"you're just mad you have no game,"

"shut up." She rolled her eyes, biting back a smile.

┌──❀*̥˚───❀*̥˚─┐

BONUS:

Paige and KK were live on Instagram in your dorm room, KK's phone was set up on your vanity, there was about 13k people watching. KK was showing them her singing skills. Paige messing with your make up and smelling your expensive perfumes (no bath and body here😛).

"this one smells good, smell it." She puts the pink high heel shaped perfume in KK's face.

"ouuuu, it does." She grabs the perfume out of Paige's hands, smelling it.

"two hundred dollars?" Paige asked in shock, as she read the price of the perfume off her phone.

» User.1: who's dorm are they in ?

» User.2: it's so cutesy in there

» User.3: it's my room, duh

» User.4: why is Paige in another girl room🙄

» User.5: KK keeps re-smelling the perfume😭

» User.6 who's perfume is that

"It's Paige's girlfriend," KK answered chat. Paige side eyed her,she snatched the perfume out of KK's hands. "No, not her girlfriend romantically, our friend that so happens to be a girl."

#paige bueckers #paige bueckers x reader #uconn wbb #uconn huskies #uconn women’s basketball #fem!reader #fluff #lesbian #drabble #friends to lovers #anon ask #angst #angst with a happy ending

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021894s · 6 months ago

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— 16 petty [1.3k W]

MASTERLIST | PREV | NEXT

PAIRING: brothers bsf! sunghoon x f!reader

WARNINGS: talks of revenge

AUTHORS NOTE: a little short chap but it ends on a little cliffhanger to get you all excited for 17🤗

Under the dappled shade of ancient trees, the gentle murmur of conversation blended with the rustling leaves and distant bird calls. You sat among friends, the air filled with the scent of pine and the earthy promise of an impending rain. It was a scene stolen from a painting, where time seemed to slow and the world outside this circle of companionship faded to a mere whisper.

Ningning's voice, warm and inviting, cut through the calm. "So how did everyone here meet?" Her smile was like the sun breaking through clouds, and all eyes turned to you.

You hesitated for a brief moment, the memories flooding back. "U-um, Heeseung pretty much introduced me to everyone here except those three over there," you said, pointing to Niki, Sunoo, and Jungwon. The names felt like a roll call of your shared pasts.

"Aww, so you and Heeseung are close?" Ningning prodded, her curiosity painting her words with genuine interest.

"Yeah, I mean, I never got the sister I wanted, so I had to settle for him," you joked, a soft chuckle escaping your lips. "And it's kinda hard not to get close with everyone with him throwing parties every other weekend." You shared a laugh with Ningning, the sound mingling with the symphony of nature around you.

The laughter faded into a comfortable silence, a brief interlude before Ningning's voice once again filled the space. "Can I ask you guys a question?"

"Yeah," came the chorus of replies, a harmony of openness and anticipation.

"Is Sunghoon seeing anyone else? He's so distant, and it feels like he only wants me around when something's on his mind," Ningning confessed, her words laced with a vulnerability that tugged at your heart.

You felt a jolt, a shock that rippled across your face, but it was Saerom who noticed, interpreting your expression as a cue to speak. "I wouldn't worry, he's a frat boy and doesn't know anything about being in a relationship, if that's what this is, of course," Saerom said, her tone dismissive yet not unkind.

"At first, I thought it was just sex, but when he invited me here, it felt like there was something more?" Ningning pondered aloud, her confusion mirroring your own.

The weight of the conversation pressed down on you, and without a small “excuse me”, you stood up, making your way inside.

the heaviness of Ningning's words clinged to you like a second skin. The kitchen was a sanctuary, a place of solace away from the tangled web of emotions outside. As you entered, the coolness of the room enveloped you, a stark contrast to the warmth of the gathering.

The clink of dishes and the soft hum of the refrigerator were your only companions as you began to busy yourself with a glass of water. The tap ran cold and clear, the sound soothing in its monotony. The water danced over your hands, downing it in one go, washing away the residue of the conversation.

Lost in thought, you didn't hear Sunghoon enter, his presence a silent shadow until he was beside you. "you ok?," he said, his voice a soft intrusion.

You jumped slightly, the surprise etching itself onto your face. "i’m fine, " you said, your heart still racing from the unexpected company.

You turn away from the comfort of the kitchen, the sanctuary it provided now feeling too small, too intimate. With a deep breath, you move past Sunghoon, the space between you charged with an energy you dare not acknowledge. Your shoulders nearly brush, a whisper of contact that sends a shiver down your spine. You keep your gaze firmly ahead, the stairs to your room calling you to the safety of solitude.

Sunghoon sighs, the sound heavy with things left unsaid, his eyes lingering on the space you just vacated. He stands motionless, lost in whatever thoughts are swirling through his mind, the moment stretching out like a thread pulled too tight.

It's Jake's voice that snaps him back to reality, a touch of annoyance lacing his words, "Dude, can you move out the way?" Sunghoon quickly moves to set everything on the counter, mind still fogged with the interaction you just had.

everyone one is outside mingling, awaiting the feast they’re about to have when you hear a gentle knock on the door, followed by the soft creak of hinges as your met with saerom, her presence a soothing balm to the tumultuous emotions swirling within you. She sits beside you on the bed, her voice a tender whisper, "I'm sorry you had to hear about ningning and Sunghoon's whole ordeal."

You draw in a shaky breath, the confusion within you cresting like a wave. "I don't understand why I'm feeling this way," you confess, the words tumbling out in a rush. "Every time I see Sunghoon, it's like I'm instantly brought back to that night we shared—the way he made me feel." You pause, the memory vivid, searing. "It was unlike anything I've ever felt before."

Saerom listens, her eyes filled with empathy as she takes your hand in hers. "Seeing him so cozy and openly with another girl is hard," you continue, the admission a whisper of vulnerability, "and I can't quite grasp why." The room is filled with your shared silence, a testament to the complexity of the human heart.

Got it, let's go with that plot twist. Saerom, with a knowing glint in her eye, leans back against the headboard, her voice laced with a hint of mischief. "Sunghoon can be such an idiot sometimes. He's just an inconsiderate jerk, you know?"

You can't help but let out a small laugh, the tension in your chest easing slightly. "Yeah, you're right," you agree, feeling a sense of solidarity in Saerom's blunt assessment.

With a playful smirk, Saerom suddenly sits up straighter, an idea sparking in her eyes. "What if you invited a guy friend over? Just to be petty and show Sunghoon that he's also easy to forget," she suggests, the corners of her lips tugging upward in a mischievous smile.

Even though you know it's not really the case, the idea of turning the tables on Sunghoon, if only to make a point, has its appeal. The plot thickens as you consider Saerom's suggestion, the wheels of your intricate story turning.

With a deep breath, you muster up a smile, not allowing the previous tension to cast a shadow over the rest of the evening. As you follow Saerom down the stairs and outside, the savory aroma of the food the guys prepared wafts through the air, a gentle reminder of the warmth and camaraderie that fills the air.

The laughter and chatter of your friends greet you as you reenter the backyard, the heart of the home, where memories are often made. You glance around at the faces you adore the most, a sense of gratitude washing over you. Sunghoon is there too, and for a moment, you lock eyes, a silent acknowledgment passing between you before you both focus on the feast before you.

The table is a colorful display of everyone's efforts, a mix of dishes that somehow come together to form a perfect ensemble. You take your seat, the laughter and stories flowing as freely as the drinks, each bite of the lovingly prepared food grounding you back to the present, to the joy of shared experiences and the unspoken bonds that tie you all together.

Tonight, you decide, is about the memories, the laughter, and the love that surrounds you. The complications of the heart can wait for another day. For now, there's joy to be found in the simple act of enjoying a meal with the people who mean the most.

taglist: @cornenhapovs @myjaeyuns @magssu @leeknowsgfsblog @luminouskalopsia @jentlecoeur @heeslut4life @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @jaeyungxrl @rapmonie2047 @anormieee @nishislcve @leesura @en-happiness @kimsunoops @heelariously @rikiwaify-blog @ihrtgyuuu @purennn @hoonharem @g0niki @hearts4itoshi @yongbokified @shuichi-sama @xiaoderrrr @hongshuaknow @skylalyla @yzzyhee @jwnghyuns @seokseokjinkim @syzavxy @xrvrqs @soulvrrs @velvetkisscs @ak-aa-li @eneiyri @starlvcieszsq @meowmeowjang @hanhaeji @moonlighthoon @gaylilseokie @seunghancore @heelovesmeknot @nyfwyeonjun @kookify @jayhoonvroom @heesminee3 @charlizefaye @mooniikay @ccrriiied @nikiswifiee @heemilktea @yorukoshii @sumzysworld @glxzillx

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bananayuyu · 3 days ago

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all tied up {part 1}

Pairing: Yunho x f reader

Genre: angst, eventual smut

Word count: 10.5k

Summary: You never thought you'd have such an awful rivalry with a coworker. How is he so mean, so petty, so under your skin...?

Warnings: smut, MDNI, mentions of reader wanting to die and past traumas, dub con/non con, reader is physically bound against her will, mean yunho, nipple play, fingering, unprotected penetration, after care of sorts (all the smut happens in part 2)

A/n: Well I had the goal of making this maybe 2k words initially, and now it's 22.4k so I decided to split it into two parts (please read the warnings and don't read this if you aren't in the right headspace <3)

Read part 2 here

Read it on ao3

"Morning."

Your coworker's tone is cold as ice, as if he swallowed the winter air on his way to the building and was now spitting it at you.

"Hi," you grunt, not bothering to look up from your desk.

It was a biting, harsh morning, and the headache you were nursing wasn't doing any favors to your mood. Only minutes into your work day you already felt bleary, your legs still shivering from the short walk between the subway station and the twenty-story building your office rested in. In the mornings you woke it from its slumber; the lights in the lobby blinking on, even the heater rumbling awake as you walked through the door, as if it took a break from its job all night, too. It certainly felt that frosty in here, especially at 7am sharp, when you stumbled in before everyone else. You preferred this early shift and were thankful to be walking out the door so early each day, early enough that even in the dead of winter the sun hadn't yet set. The early mornings never bothered you; the solitude was tender and warm with you, even if the air was cruel on these freezing winter mornings.

The intrusion of your steely coworker was unwelcome, to say the least.

"Why are you here so early?" you ask, a sharp edge to your tone. You're bitter that you won't have your usual hour to yourself, especially given the meeting you are set to have with your boss in just a few hours. You'd needed this time to mentally prepare, and here he was ruining your plans, yet again.

"I figured I'd come in early to get work done before our little meeting with the boss," he replies, a slow sigh leaving his lips and betraying just how tense he is. Well, at least it wasn't just you. You had been dreading this morning since last Friday, when the two of you had your worst argument yet, prompting your boss to demand a meeting with you both. You had no idea what would happen; you'd never had your boss demand a scheduled meeting with you in the six years you'd worked here. Things were different now, now that you worked as a grant writer and not at the front desk, but still it was concerning. He always just met with people spontaneously, and the scheduled bi-weekly meetings for the entire administrative staff were the time where conflicts and confusion were dealt with. He'd never called just two people into his office like this; then again, no one at your company had ever butted heads like you two, so badly that it left the whole office simmering with frustration, everyone dreading the sour expression that permanently settled on your features by the end of each day. You were so different now, so changed from the calm and happy woman they all knew.

You stood to make your way to the kitchen, passing by his desk as you went to turn on the kettle, boiling water for your first tea of the day. This morning called for multiple cups, your throat scratchy and dry from nerves, your body depleted from your lack of sleep. You'd stayed up far too late with your best friend last night, rambling about the meeting, begging her to help you come up with an excuse to stay home. She'd laughed with you, throwing out a few random ideas, but she knew as well as you did that you'd be here today. As much as you dreaded it, you would only miss this meeting if you were on your literal death bed, your job meaning too much to you to lose it.

From this angle he had a perfect view of you, your face scrunched up in concentration as you set the kettle to temperature, placing other employee's dirty dishes from the sink into the dishwasher. You were too obsessed with organization, in a way that made him irrationally angry, but he couldn't stop watching you every day, watching the way you adhered so severely to your little routines, watching the way his interruptions cast your face in worry and made you snap at him. Today, like every Monday, you wore your favorite shoes, the black platform Mary Janes. Up your legs stretched your thigh-high wool socks, also black, held up by a ruffled stretch of gray lace at the top. Over your hips lay a gray tartan skirt, reaching almost down to your socks, leaving an inch of bare thigh exposed in a way he thought wasn't really work appropriate. And then there was your black turtleneck, tight and accentuating your obviously braless chest, the curves and shapes of your body not hidden in the slightest. He was watching you intently, waiting for you to finally notice, and boy was he not disappointed when you finally did.

"You've hid my mug, haven't you," you spit, slamming the dishwasher harder than you needed to. You hadn't seen it in the cabinet, so you'd gingerly searched through the dishwasher too, desperately hoping someone else hadn't used it the previous week and neglected to wash it. Not finding it in there was a relief in some ways, but immediately you knew who was at fault for its disappearance, and his dark chuckle in response to you confirmed your suspicions ten fold. "You're such a dick," you grumble under your breath, reaching for any other random mug in the cabinet, needing something to house the tea you desperately need.

"What was that?" he asks, his tone mocking you, knowing exactly the sentiment of what you'd said even if he hadn't heard you clearly. You sigh and roll your eyes, ripping open your tea bag and plopping it in the mug, gently pouring the steaming liquid over it. "You just love to blame me for everything, don't you, even if you have no proof." His voice is low, dark, and it makes a shiver run through you even as the steam of the water warms your face. "You're cruel y/n, so cruel." His tone of voice makes you feel trapped, even all these feet away, and you just freeze for a bit, your tea steeping a bit longer than it should have. A creak of the building snaps you out of it, and you fling the tea bag into the trash, gently blowing over the mug and taking a tiny sip, testing the temperature.

Finally you turn, catching a glimpse of him. Jeong Yunho, the newest addition to your little office, hired about six months ago now, you realized. The date hit you in the gut this morning; the year had flown by, especially the last half, and in days it would no longer be this year anymore, no longer be the ending of an adventure but rather the start, when you'd have to plan again, think again. His suit today is stone gray, the color only barely darker than his wool overcoat, his tie a dark navy that really just looked black. His shoes were dark navy too; which you only knew because of the difference in the toe box from his other black shoes, the ones he normally wore. It must be a special day, he must be heading to something important after work. Some sort of meeting? No, that wouldn't really make sense, you all didn't work in a field where meetings were held outside of work hours, in restaurants or bars. Unless the meeting was about getting out of here, finding another placement. Maybe a date? Who'd want to date such an asshole, though?

He was rich and good-looking. Even you could recognize that. And boy did it irk you, that he looked so good in his suits, that he wasn't too masculine or too feminine, that his nose sloped in just the perfect way, that his smile was soft and bright and so endearing. You hadn't met many people in your life who were so captivating at first glance, and sure, when he'd first started here a part of you hoped something might happen between the two of you. You'd eat lunch at each other's desks, excitedly discussing your newest grants or talking about your favorite shows, which of course, were the same. It was a blissful few weeks, a beautiful honeymoon of sorts. Of course it couldn't last forever; you landed your dream job, everything you'd been working towards finally coming true last year, a new perfect apartment with your best friend being the cherry on top. Of course this year a man appeared and tried to ruin everything.

The two of you work in silence until 7:45, when everyone else starts arriving for the day, led of course by Dr. Acharya, the supervising psychotherapist. Next is Tally, who gives you a short wave as she heads to reception, her horn-rimmed glasses peeking over the window to blow you a kiss when she finds the mug of tea you'd made waiting for her. Soon many others scramble in together; Marnie, Amir, Rua, and Keisha, each making their way to their individual offices to ready themselves for their first clients. Soon Jongho, in charge of billing and accounting, walks in too, sitting down at his desk next to Yunho. And finally Eliana stumbles in just before eight, her giant coffee in hand, her eyes slightly dark with panic like they always are as she rushes into her office. Your boss, Mr. Kangsoo, won't be in for another hour at least and the day lurches forward as the first clients of the day are brought back for their counseling sessions, the office breaking into a low hum that will stay with you until you leave.

Your digitizing task today is boring but necessary, and that headache isn't leaving you, even with the tea warming your throat and your favorite piano concerto comforting you through the morning. You always loved Rachmaninov in the winter. But even so, your mood was sour, too sour. Yunho and Jongho's comfortable chatter was making your blood boil, making it hard for you to focus on your stupid, tedious task. In a huff you stand, heading straight for the reception office, papers in hand.

"Hi hi," Tally greets you as you open her door, gently closing it behind you.

"Dude, I'm dreading this meeting," you say immediately, sighing.

"Why? I'm sure nothing bad will come of it, Mr. Kangsoo loves you," she says, canceling an appointment on her screen and typing out a note.

"I know, I'm just already pissy today, not exactly the best mood to be bringing to the boss's office," you chuckle, setting your papers on the corner of her desk. "I kept neglecting digitizing this pile and now I can't stop obsessing over it. And Yunho came in early today, and hid my fucking mug. Again."

"Did you see this?" she asks, grabbing a sticky note from the corner of her computer and holding it out to you.

Can you please let the pretty one know she's never driving me from this job, no matter how hard she tries?

"God he's such an ass," you whisper, making Tally giggle. "Thank god for you girl, I don't know what I'd do without you here."

"You're 100% sure it's Yunho?" she asks, eyeing you.

"Who else would it be?" you reply, rolling your eyes, making her laugh again.

"Well, I guess now 'the pretty one' has been told," she giggles, rolling her eyes too as she crumples up the note and tosses it in the trash.

"Like I said, he's an ass," you reply, not as quietly this time. A parent obviously waiting for their child snaps their head up, looking in your direction. They're maybe twenty feet away, and the window between the lobby and the reception desk is small, so you doubt they really heard you. But you balk in embarrassment anyway, silencing yourself.

"I should get back to my desk, I guess," you say, sighing as you pick up your stack of papers once again.

"Just ignore him," Tally says, smiling kindly.

"I'll try," you sigh, earning a disapproving look from Tally. "I will, I promise. You're right, I know, I should just ignore him," you answer, looking over to see the back of his head, his large hands crossed over each other and resting there on his jet black hair. Fuck him, you can't help but think. Everything had been going so well, and you'd never been someone who got into drama at work, ever. It was a point of pride for you for a long time, a huge reason why your boss gave you the position he did and trusted you to be a part of his team. Now it had all been ruined, by this fucking asshole, in his perfectly tailored suits.

The day dragged on, your mind spinning with anxiety. It wouldn't leave you until that dreaded meeting, you knew that, so you busied yourself with scanning and organizing the files, not bothering to try to get any writing done. There was no way you would, not in this state.

Finally your boss arrived, his heavy footsteps sending waves of dread through you, your stomach a fluttering mess. You hadn't been able to eat this morning, which was very unlike you; you could feel how weak you were from the lack of sustenance, the adrenaline making you shakier than it normally did. You stumbled on wobbly legs towards his office once he called for you, Yunho's presence dark and foreboding behind you, and you swore you heard him whisper 'behave yourself' as the two of you passed into the office. Your blood was boiling as you sat down, the two chairs facing the front of your boss's desk, your face a permanent scowl as you stared Yunho down, watching him settle himself down in the chair and spread his legs farther than he needed to, looking all too comfortable.

"Ok, to start, this is not to scare you, or fire you," your boss begins, already zeroing in on the dynamic between you; the cool and collected look of Yunho, and the angry, stricken look of you, your eyes deep with worry when you meet your boss's gaze. "You both know me, I don't really do this sort of thing. I don't need to control you all, to be a good leader." He sighs deeply, looking almost as pained as you do, like he's mulled this over for too long himself. "I just can't let this go on any longer. The conflict between you two is affecting everyone, and it's clearly affecting your own work, too. I can see it in the quality of your writing. You are both very smart, very good grant writers, and even so you've been doing a good job, but I know you both can do better. And this fighting, it really needs to stop." He sighs deeply again, shaking his head subtly, like his subconscious is trying to rid itself of the stress you two have caused him. It makes so many feelings bloom in your guts, but the overwhelming one is guilt, the feeling so entirely consuming that you have the urge to jump to the floor now and start babbling out apologies. But you stop yourself, stop the tears from coming, and taking a deep breath you regain some composure. You know your boss, and you know his cadence, so you know he has more to say.

"So, we're figuring this out today. I don't care what it takes, we're settling this. So tell me, why do you two fight so much?" His eyes sweep back and forth, eyeing each of you for any sign, any subtle movement that could give him some idea of what was going on. He had his own theories, but he really couldn't be sure, and due to his laid back nature with his staff, he hadn't been monitoring you two enough to really know. With a sigh he leans back in his chair, letting the silence hang in the room until one of you is willing to break it.

"Sir, I don't think she's liked me from the moment I started here," Yunho finally speaks up, leaning forward in his chair and setting his elbows on his knees, the casual and confident gesture making your skin crawl. "I think she's been trying to make me miserable, so I'll leave-"

"That is not tru-"

"I think she feels some sort of ownership here, cause she's worked here so much longer than m-"

"That is absolutely not true!" you cry, your shot nerves leaving you unable to control your volume. "I would never try to run someone out of the office that way, that's completely unprofessional! He's the one who started all of this, he's the one who leaves nasty notes for me and hides my things and puts me down constantly in every admin meeting, trying to make me look like an idiot in front of everyone! If we're really gonna go there, I think he feels intimidated by my experience here, by the fact that I have a clearly established relationship with everyone, that you and all the therapists like me, and that even though he has more experience than me I'm still writing better grants!"

"Y/n, please keep yo-" your boss starts.

"I'm sorry, sir, but he left a note for me on Tally's computer this morning! How unprofessional is that! Now he's dragging her into our drama too, which I promise you I've never done! I-"

"Oh sure, you've never complained about me to anyone in the office," Yunho juts in, rolling his eyes. "It's not like everyone here sides with you on everything, always. If it weren't for Jongho I think you would have made everyone in this office hate me by now."

"Everyone loves you here, what do you mean?" you shoot back, your eyebrows furrowed in frustration. "I never talk about you to any of them, not even Tally. Because I know it would be wrong. Maybe everyone sides with me on certain issues because I'm right, have you ever considered that?! And by the way, Tally thinks poorly of you because of her own observations, because she doesn't like the things you say to me. So that has everything to do with you and your shitty behavior-" you cut yourself off, slapping a hand over your mouth. Because as comfortable as you are with your boss, you never, ever curse in front of him. It's an unspoken rule in the office, and one you'd never struggled to follow before. Shame washes over you like a wave of boiling water, making your whole body begin to shake.

"I'm so sorry, sir," you bow your head to him, your eyes closed as you fight to keep yourself from bursting into tears.

"She's obviously quite emotionally unstable, sir," Yunho pipes up from beside you, and of all the things he's said recently it's definitely the most hurtful. Your head shoots up, a single tear racing down your cheek despite your attempts to keep it at bay, and you just stare at him, your face betraying everything you're feeling.

"There's no need for that sort of insult right now, Yunho," your boss scolds him. "I need you two to resolve this, not fight even more. So tell me about this note, what did it say? Why did you leave a note for y/n on Tally's desk?"

"I'm sorry sir, I understand," Yunho responds, his perfectly respectful tone and gestures looking so put on. "And honestly sir, I have no idea what y/n is talking about. I didn't leave any notes for anyone this morning."

"Oh, so you're going to lie right to our boss's face?" you ask him, your volume lower but your anger still evident. "Do I need to go grab Tally? Seriously?"

"Did this note have my name on it anywhere?" he chuckles, fixing you with a strong gaze. And if you aren't mistaken, there's some sort of twinkle in his eye, almost like he's enjoying this. Is it seeing you suffer, seeing the anger and sadness in your eyes that makes him feel joy? Or maybe it's just messing with you in front of your boss, forcing you to over-explain yourself to the point of looking hysterical. Whatever it is it makes you uneasy, your stomach feeling like it might fall out of your ass at any moment.

"Sir, it said, 'Can you please let the pretty one know she's never driving me from this job, no matter how hard she tries?" you say, exasperated. "He just said he thinks I've been trying to drive him out. It was obviously him who left that note." You turn your body to face your boss again, not wanting to catch even a glimpse of Yunho anymore, your eyes pleading with Mr. Kangsoo to believe you.

"Sir, I did not write that. I would never say something so inappropriate about a coworker," Yunho adds, and though you don't see it, he's staring right at you. Your boss sighs heavily, your eyes fixed to the way he's staring at Yunho, the lines in his forehead deep with frustration. He looks like he's about to start speaking but then stops himself, another deep breath moving through his lungs, before running his hands through his hair and leaning back in his chair again.

"God, I wish you two would just sleep with each other already and get it out of your systems," he groans under his breath, but you hear it loud and clear, your whole body on high alert.

"What?!" you snap, your response involuntary. You had respected this man for years, admired the way he ran this office with calm confidence and respect for everyone, and you couldn't believe something so inappropriate had just come out of his mouth.

"Y/n, I'm sorry, I don't mean to be gross. I just can't help but wonder if part of the issue between the two of you is, well, the obvious attraction," Mr. Kangsoo responds, sighing deeply. "I do sincerely apologize if I'm reading things incorrectly, or if that last comment made you uncomfortable. I don't in any way want to encourage my employees to sleep with each other, obviously, and that just slipped out of my mouth. It was inappropriate, I know. I just feel like I'm at my wit's end with you two, and I feel desperate to find some sort of solution. Because you both are incredible employees and I don't want to have to get rid of either of you."

"I'm so sorry sir, that this whole situation with us two has caused you stress, but I can assure you there's no attraction here. Only dislike," you reply, letting out a shaky breath.

"No attraction at all, sir," Yunho adds, making you feel disgusted at actually agreeing with him for once.

"Then why the constant arguing?" your boss asks.

"Like I said sir, he's been tormenting me-"

"She clearly has something against me sir, and I don't know what I could do to change tha-"

"You don't know what you could do?? Maybe stop being so mean to me!" you cry out again.

"Y/n, keep your voice down, this is my last warning," your boss cuts in, his face stern. "You know I see you as almost a daughter to me, you started working here when you were what, 17? And now you've finished your degree, made so many strides in the last few years. I'm proud of you and everything you've accomplished, but I'm struggling to feel proud right now, with how you've been acting recently in the office. It isn't like you. I know Yunho is at fault for this too, and I want you to know I've already talked to him about his comments made during our admin meetings. What he said a few weeks ago, insinuating that you didn't understand the "actual point" of your role in this company because you have less experience than him, was uncalled for. So was his comment earlier. But I see too that you are quick to jump on everything he says, to assume that everything he does has ill intent towards you, and I don't think that that's fair either. I know you're more mature than this," he finishes, his eyes soft as he looks at you.

"I don't think I am, sir," you squeak out, your voice breaking as more tears well in your eyes.

"Y/n, I won't have this. I need you to approach this like you've approached everything else in your life, with the goal of actually understanding it. Don't give up on this now," he says, his voice stern but encouraging in that special way only he can be.

"Sir, how am I supposed to feel watching you accept her hysterics?" Yunho asks, his face tense with annoyance.

"God, you're cruel," you whisper, curling into a ball on your chair, not caring that you're wearing a short skirt and you probably shouldn't be holding your legs this way.

"Yunho, you're getting on my last fucking nerve today," your boss snaps, and both of you have wide eyes of shock, Mr. Kangsoo not one to curse in the office, either. "This entire conversation went worse than I expected, and your uncalled for comments show me that maybe you're not as mature as I originally thought you were. You came in with great references, son, and you clearly are very smart, but you must realize you're up against someone who's been working for me for six years, and who has proven time and time again to be basically the perfect employee. This conflict is a blip on the radar for her, but for you it's been happening almost the entire time I've known you. I want to believe the best in you, but you must understand how this looks from my perspective."

You both just sit frozen, like two kids in time-out, your faces different versions of disappointment. Your eyes are slightly red from crying, and your knees are still pulled up to your chin, your arms squeezing so tightly around them that it hurts.

"I've had it with this conversation, I don't think this is going to work. Which I should have known, it's clear that conversation between the two of you always leads to conflict," your boss continues. "I'm sending you both home, right now, and I'm demanding that you figure out this thing between you, or I'm firing you both. You have a week. Do not return to this office until the two of you have sorted out your issues, and can promise me you will not fight ever again going forward," he states, his arms crossed over his chest.

You both gawk at him, your faces looking almost identical, as you try to take in what he's just told you.

"Sir, I-" Yunho starts, but even he's stumbling over his words with just how shocked he is. "I don't think this is fair, sir. You should- you can't force us to make up, that isn't going to happen. This- we- we'll both be fired by next week," he stumbles out, his collected demeanor finally shattering.

"With all due respect, son, this is my company. I can do what I want. And this is what I feel is best. So both of you go, now, I won't hear another word. Out," he demands, standing and nodding towards his door.

You rise without a word, your body shaking dramatically from the heaps of adrenaline still coursing through you. Silently you grab your coat and scarf, packing up your bag and slinging it over your shoulder, walking to the kitchen to grab your lunch out of the fridge. You make your way towards the front door, stopping briefly at reception to look at Tally, her curly hair hanging down as she furiously types away at a document. Finally she looks up and sees your face, her own twisting into concern and confusion.

"What happened?" she whispers.

"I- I don't know," you respond, shaking your head. "Ask boss about it, I'm sure he'll tell you," you sigh, wiping another tear from your eyes. "I can't stay, I have to go," you squeak, giving her a quick hug, before turning and walking towards the front door again, nearly bumping into Yunho. You don't give him the courtesy of an apology, instead storming past him, walking angrily towards the elevator.

And of course you take the elevator down together, the silence awkward and tense and indescribable. You know he'll probably be walking down to the subway station with you, and it doesn't even surprise you when he gets on the same line as you, heading the same direction. But when he gets off at the same exact stop and you feel him walking up the stairs behind you, you can't just accept it any longer.

"Are you fucking following me?" you spit over your shoulder, your eyes dark with anger.

"No, y/n, I live up this way," he retorts, pointing ahead of you two in the exact direction of your neighborhood.

"God, don't tell me we're neighbors," you groan, trudging down the street, the remnants of last week's snow still stuck in the gutters.

"You live in Arbol Village?" he asks, almost sounding impressed.

"On Maple street," you sigh, with a nod.

"Me too," he chuckles, shaking his head in disbelief.

"This isn't funny, you fucking psychopath," you retort, angry that he's still here in your proximity, and angrier that there's only one path up into your neighborhood from this side, and the hill that leads up is making you out of breath in a way that's nothing but embarrassing.

"And you say I'm the mean one," he responds, smiling as he shakes his head.

"I really don't get how you can be so blasé about this," you huff out, your footsteps heavy as you nearly crest the hill and enter your neighborhood.

"Workplaces are shit, this is how it goes. If I have to find another job, I will. But don't think I won't go down without a fight. Mr. Kangsoo is by far the best boss I've ever worked for, so I'm going to do whatever I can to keep my position," he says, his breathing annoyingly stable even after walking the entirety of the hill. Slowly you two start into the neighborhood, but suddenly he's turning down a path towards the second house on Maple Street, the large dark one with an almost Victorian structure.

"Of course the fancy one is your house," you sigh, seeing the ornate curtains covering only part of the front window.

"Come in, we need to talk more," Yunho says, beckoning you with his hands, but you can't be bothered.

"Fuck no, are you crazy?" you respond, already stomping down the sidewalk past his house, not bothering to look back. The last thing you could bear is his presence right now, and for some reason you feel like you're not totally in control of yourself anyway, your legs moving so firmly they'd probably still be going even if you protested. Yunho just sighs, himself drained from the meeting you'd just left, and not having the energy to fight more. Later today, or tomorrow morning, he promised himself, he'd call you and start sorting this out for good. But for now he just watched you grow smaller and smaller, your hair blowing gently behind you in the winter breeze, your legs looking weak.

Once you were home, two and a half blocks from your asshole of a coworker, you collapsed on your bed, passing out in moments. In the late afternoon you woke to the sound of the front door slamming shut, your roommate, Yunji, calling, "shit, sorry! The wind is crazy out there!"

"You're good!" you called back, but your voice made it apparent to her that it was one of those days where you needed to be left alone, so she didn't come into your room. You picked yourself up and stripped off your work clothes, finally freeing your thighs of the tight elastics that held up your socks, two red rings now visible on your skin. Automatically you brushed your teeth, grabbing your comfiest hoodie and sweatpants, and passed out in your bed again, not even eating dinner, not checking your phone. The sun had already begun to set, the sky outside rearing for another stormy night, and your body was lulled to sleep within minutes, your head buried deep into your pillows as you pulled your comforter over your head.

You woke in what felt like minutes, your room eerily quiet. The light looked bright outside, very bright; it was disorienting, both the quiet and the light, and you lifted yourself up, squinting around in search of your phone. You'd forgotten to plug it in last night, so it surely would be almost dead. You found it still in your work bag, hanging on for dear life with the battery at five percent. The time astonished you, 9am, and you gawked at yourself. No wonder you felt so disoriented; you'd been sleeping for nearly sixteen hours.

And as you finally sorted through your notifications, your shock over the time left your brain entirely. Because the shock of having a missed call from Yunho, having two missed calls from him, floored you, literally. You sank down to the ground, furiously clicking to see the times. One was last night, at about 7pm, and the other was this morning about an hour ago. This morning he'd left a voicemail too, presumably right after you hadn't answered. With shaky hands you clicked on it, holding the phone tight to your ear so you wouldn't miss a word.

"Y/n, I know you don't like talking to me, but we really should try to sort this out earlier rather than later. Please call me back as soon as you get this."

Well, fuck.

He sounded disappointed, and frustrated, and perturbed to even be leaving the message. But god was that voice convincing, even to you, the way he worded things so eloquently and politely, like he's genuinely a good and thoughtful person. It hit you hard while listening that maybe your anger wasn't justified, maybe you'd been unfair to him like your boss had said. The sneaking feeling had graced you many times over your months of conflict, but now it felt too strong to ignore. Did he really want to sort this out? It sounded like it. Why, why, why was this so damn confusing for you?

Your mind raced as your stomach growled, as you tried to get ahold of yourself. Still sprawled out on your carpet you felt exhausted, your body somehow still feeling pulled towards sleep despite the hoards of it you'd just been allotted. You peeled yourself up, standing carefully, moving towards your window to get a view of the backyard. Looking at the garden always calmed you, even in the winter when most of the flowers were gone. And as you opened your blinds you realized why things seemed so bright this morning, and why you were barely hearing a sound.

A thick blanket of snow covered everything, flakes still falling gently from the sky which was dotted with clouds. The sun shone through a gap in them, reflected bright off the entirely white ground. You breathed out a sigh of relief, knowing that everyone had been forced to stay home today, so your missing work wasn't really a disruption to the office. Whoever was miffed about having to take your early shift wouldn't have to, after all. It was like the world was granting you a favor, as you often felt that she did, and you were so thankful. Because this, too, was a great excuse to avoid Yunho longer. There was no way you could leave the house with so much snow outside; it wasn't safe. You breathed in a sigh of relief, shaking it out as you finally connected your phone to charge, slipping on some thick socks and gliding your way out to the kitchen.

After breakfast you popped back into your room, shooting off a quick text.

Y/n: I just saw the snow, I don't think I can come over. Let's see tomorrow.

Almost immediately a call comes through from him, but you let it ring out. There was no way you were going to waste this beautiful snow day talking to him, and you had a whole week to resolve this anyway. It gnawed at you, in the back of your mind somewhere, but presently you just couldn't find it in yourself to voluntarily speak to him.

Yunho: We can still talk on the phone. And we really should. Y/n: We should take a break from talking and cool off. For today.

That was how you were justifying it to yourself. You needed a break, deserved a break from him. You wouldn't be able to really resolve anything if you were still pissed, and with the shock of the morning's weather and your body's obvious need for even more rest, you just couldn't take it today. Plus, everyone else was getting a day off, why couldn't you?

Yunho: I disagree

You flip your phone over, setting it on your bedside table, and you walk away. You'd had it with him arguing with you over text too, and the idea of curling up on the couch with Yunji, sipping hot cocoa and watching your favorite movies, sounded too enticing. You were not going to think about him anymore today. It was decided.

And surprisingly you were mostly able to keep your promise to yourself, the day passing in all its wintery glory, your favorite tradition with your roommate leaving you just as content as it always did. With a gentle sigh you both finally stood up, moving to the kitchen to wash the dishes you'd made all day, finally putting away the snacks you'd covered the coffee table with. As you both walked past the window in the hall you stopped short, eyes fixed on the scene unfolding before you.

"Holy shit," Yunji said, grabbing onto your arm. You both were used to the snow here, having grown up in the next town over. But this snow, that now seemed to be three feet deep, was something you hadn't seen since the one glorious winter more than a decade ago. You were eight that year, and the day after Christmas it snowed furiously, continuing all the way until New Year's Day when the ground was so covered that everywhere you looked outside all you saw was white.

You hadn't realized it was snowing all day, that the sky had turned dark in the early afternoon with all of the cloud cover. You were both too engrossed in your fun to notice.

"Well, I guess we're not going back to work for another few days," she laughed, sighing at how lovely it looked.

"Thank god," you replied, sighing in relief.

"Has Yunho been giving you trouble again?" she asked, and you turned to her with a downturned smile.

"When is he not," you sighed, laughing.

"Hey, how did your meeting go, yesterday?" she asked.

"Fucking terrible," you reply, a frustrated hand running through your hair.

"What happened?"

"Boss said that if the two of us can't resolve our differences, he's letting us both go," you answer, sighing harshly.

"Oh my god, that's crazy! How could he do that to you??" she replied, eyes wide.

"Girl, I know. I don't even know how it got to this point."

She moved to hug you, knowing just how much this situation had weighed on you, and just how much your job meant. She'd seen it in your eyes, even if you hadn't always told her exactly what was going on. She knew how sensitive you were, and she couldn't believe your boss would say such a thing. Especially given the years of dedication you'd given to that office, that you so genuinely cared about.

"What are you gonna do?" she asks, pulling back.

"Well I guess, try to resolve it. I don't know how, though, every time we talk he just pisses me off and we fight. He's not reasonable about anything. He's always joking, nothing is ever totally serious. I saw him stutter for the first time yesterday, when Mr. Kangsoo gave us that ultimatum, but earlier in the meeting he was way too casual about everything. He was calling me hysterical and unstable, and, just, how the fuck does my boss think I'm going to solve this? That man is fucking impossible," you say, shaking your head.

"He sounds like a sociopath," she replies. "If I ever see him I will wring his neck, I swear to god."

"Well, you might. He lives in this neighborhood." Yunji's eyes go wide at your comment, her mouth hanging open. "Yeah, I know. He lives on our street, too, you know the fancy looking house that's second in from the road? Like if you're walking from the station this direction, the second house on the right? Yeah, that's his. I found out yesterday when I was walking home."

"How the fuck does a single guy in his twenties afford that?" she asks, baffled.

"He clearly has family money, he must. I'm sure he's made decent money for the past few years, but not enough to afford that. And all of his stuff, his suits and his briefcase and everything, looks expensive. And it's not like, shit that just looks expensive or name brand stuff. It's subtler than that, it just seems like everything he owns is so high quality."

"Fucking rich boys. I guess it isn't surprising, given how he's behaved. Like he's always gotten his way and never been told no."

"It really seems like it. Everyone always loves him, it's so annoying," you roll your eyes, thinking of every other staff member's reaction to meeting their shiny new coworker, and his easy demeanor, always saying what people want to hear. Except to you, it seemed.

"Well you can't really meet up and talk right now," Yunji says.

"No, but he said we should talk on the phone. I missed two calls from him, and he left me a message. But I can't bear to speak with him on the phone. I don't ever talk to my coworkers outside of work, no matter how close we are," you reply, shaking your head. "It just feels weird. I don't know what I'm gonna do, but I'm ignoring him for the rest of today."

"Understandable," she responds, squeezing your arm for a moment. "I should try to get some work done on my thesis, I guess, but you rest this evening. You deserve it."

As you both retire to your rooms, you sigh into your pillow. Despite the lazy day, despite the sixteen hours of sleep last night, you still feel tired. It must be mental, it's the only explanation at this point. And you know that means you should probably avoid your phone. But you reflexively check it; the anticipation brewing in your head isn't letting up.

You find two more missed calls from Yunho, and another text.

Yunho: How are we going to solve this if you keep ignoring me?

You suppose it makes you feel a little bad, a little guilty. Still, you can't be bothered to respond. You don't know why; you can't explain it. That feeling like you're not totally in control of your actions, like someone else is calling the shots, is back, and it really doesn't feel like something you can fight, or should fight. There's an eeriness about it, but it's so far in the back of your mind that you don't give it a second thought. After turning over your phone you climb into your covers, the light barely there outside as the evening approaches, the sky still covered in dark clouds and the snow still falling.

And just like that, two days pass. The snow has stayed heavy, making it unsafe to leave, the whole city quiet as few feel brave enough to venture outside. A desperate run to the grocery store calls a few, but thankfully you and Yunji have plenty of food in the pantry to last you a few days. She's taken the opportunity to really focus on her work, and you thought maybe you should, too. You never worked on grants at home, but you could bet Yunho was also taking advantage of the quiet time. You didn't really have anything better to do, yet you couldn't bring yourself to work at all, not when your head and gut were rolling with anxiety and fear and a crushing hatred of yourself. That first day avoiding Yunho had felt, well, not good, but justified. But the past two days, more missed calls and texts unanswered, you felt straight up guilty, and stupid. Not really for ignoring Yunho, as much as letting down your boss, which you knew you would. This couldn't be resolved; no matter what the two of you did you'd never get along, and it was clear that there was something in Yunho that made him unable to leave you alone. You hadn't particularly liked the last guy in his position, either, but the two of you had basically ignored each other, easily. But since his entrance to your office, Yunho seemed unable to not bother you, not leave notes, not piss you off every chance he got. And now you couldn't help but ignore him, even though you knew that doing so was fucking you both over, making it certain that you'd never return to that beloved office and your dream job.

You felt stuck. The literal fact of not being able to leave your apartment was eating you alive, making you feel scared and paranoid and vulnerable in ways you knew were illogical. Every little sound started to make you jump; you were losing it, slowly but surely coming apart at the seams. You swore you started hearing your mom's cat meowing for you, and once in the kitchen it sounded so real you spent minutes furiously searching the hall and your bedroom for her. You collapsed on the floor, waves of anxiety rolling over you as you held yourself in the fetal position, not even crying, just hyperventilating.

Yunho: You're being really immature and unfair by not responding to me. Not even giving this a chance of maybe working itself out

You hadn't responded to him in days, but something in you finally broke. It was in the way his words reflected how you felt about yourself, and the severe guilt that it brought you alighted in flames and suddenly felt like nothing but red, hot anger.

Y/n: Fuck you Yunho: Oh, so you are alive

Breathing heavy you stared at the screen, a sudden realization washed over you. You knew it was over; you'd maintained at least some level of professionalism up to this point, albeit not much, with him. Even when you fought in the office you didn't say anything personal or unnecessarily nasty. You only cursed at him under your breath, never loud enough that anyone could hear. But now you had said something nasty, in writing no less. Even if you both somehow made it back to work on Monday, he'd no doubt show your boss what you had said. And even with your long standing relationship with Mr. Kangsoo, you doubted he'd be willing to keep you on after seeing that.

So that was it. It was over. Logically you knew that you could find a new job, that this wasn't the end of your life. The new year was right around the corner, which was always a good time to find new placements. But you had studied communications and psychology specifically for this job, had dedicated years to learning everything you could about funding and mental health care and the ways your boss ran the office. Though it'd never been said directly, you had a feeling that one day you'd become his second-in-command, and maybe even take over running the place once he was ready to take a step back and retire. You loved this part of the city, loved living with your best friend here, and the commute was easy. You'd planned everything so well, yet it still was about to crumble in your hands. And with every passing minute, it felt like you were waiting for your life to implode, which made not being able to leave all the worse.

The next morning you woke to a call from your mom.

"Good morning," she answered, after your muffled and confused, hello? "Happy New Year sweetie."

"Hi mom, Happy New Year," you responded, rolling over to tuck yourself into the covers again. It had gotten bone-chillingly cold with the perpetual precipitation, and pulling the covers off in the morning felt torturous.

"Since you can't come down to see me today I thought I'd call. Are you two doing okay? Do you have enough food?"

"Yeah, we're doing fine," you say through a yawn. "We've got plenty of food, as long as this lets up in a few days."

"God, it better. I'm glad I got to see you on Christmas Eve."

"Me too."

"Are you doing okay? You sound off," she asks you, making your heart sink. She has no idea what's been going on; you've done an expert job of keeping it a secret from her, as you often do with your struggles, because you know she can't really handle it. You know she has too much to deal with on her own, and you never really feel like she gives you good advice, anyway. But with how you've been feeling mentally, hearing someone ask that has you panicking internally.

"Oh yeah, I'm fine, I just woke up is all," you lie, yawning again to punctuate your point. "I'm not really enjoying being stuck inside, I guess."

"That's not like you," your mom laughs, and you know she's shaking her head side to side the way she always does. "You used to always love when you were stuck inside, or stranded somewhere. Do you remember when you got lost at that theme park in Ocean City? When we found you at the ticket booth you were happy as can be. We thought we'd find you crying. The teenage boy who was watching you said you were quiet as can be, just sat in that little nook in total silence. You were such a funny kid." There's a mystical air to her tone telling the story, because she loves to reminisce in that way, and unfortunately you really, really don't. Because that was the time of your life when your dad was still around, and despite the years of therapy you still can't move past it all.

"Yeah, I remember," you placate her, sighing. You wish you could travel to see her today, just to calm her nerves and make her not worry, because her worrying is the absolute last thing you want. As you stare out the window you see the sky is a bit clearer, and there don't appear to be many flakes still falling. But the snow is still thick and there's surely ice everywhere. You're not even sure if the three separate subway lines you have to take to reach her house are still running.

"Well, sweetie, the weather report said the snow's finally supposed to let up today, so maybe you can get some fresh air soon."

"That sounds good," you mutter, rolling over in bed. "I should go make some breakfast, I'm feeling really hungry. Thanks for calling, love you," you finish the call.

"Okay, love you too sweetie. Talk to you soon," she replies, before you hang up the call.

New Year's Day. You'd forgotten yesterday what day it was, and had been sort of avoiding your phone because of Yunho's texts and calls. You hadn't stayed up till midnight, hadn't welcomed the New Year in any way. You were surprised Yunji hadn't said anything, but then again neither of you really were the types to party or celebrate holidays much. You both had bad memories of them from growing up, or good memories that had turned bad once you'd matured and looked back without your naiveté. And your face and posture were probably screaming 'leave me alone,' Yunji always able to tell if you were upset. You were thankful for that, thankful that she knew how to leave you alone when you needed the space. Really, what did it matter what day it was? New Year's was like any other day of the year, it just had the honor of being first in the lineup. So why was your head spinning so much? Why couldn't you stop thinking about what your resolutions should be?

The morning was strange, even with a delicious bagel and a warm cup of Jasmine tea. It felt strange seeing the sky after it had been covered for days; it even felt strange looking out your living room window to the front yard, the snow on the street gray and muddy and pounded down by the tracks of the few brave souls who'd trekked out or driven in this weather. You saw one neighbor diligently shoveling snow off her driveway, bundled up head to toe in a giant puffy jacket and boots that looked too big for her. Her head snaps up, and you walk towards the window to see what she's seeing; a snow plow was making its way down your street, the drivers finally able to start their work today now that the worst of the storm was behind you. Even the sidewalks looked not so bad, as the clear day had allowed the sun to begin melting the thick snow, the air hot enough that it might not be too icy out there. Something in you called at you to go outside, but the second you thought about it a wave of dread hit you, and you knew you'd be too scared. It would be another day stuck in here, another day avoiding Yunho's texts and feeling so guilty, and you weren't sure if you could take it.

It had gotten to that point now. It had been so long since you felt like this, like you'd rather die than live another moment. Now, just like the first time, you felt so ridiculous and shameful for feeling that way, looking around to see the physical evidence of your privileged life. Your safe and cozy apartment, the food filling the fridge, the brand new washing machine you'd both bought yourselves as a Christmas gift. How could this be so awful? You had all sorts of entertainment, anything you could need to keep you busy while you waited for these snow days to end. You could be updating your resume, starting the search for a new job. You could be calling Yunho back, and trying to find a way through your conflict. You could be doing yoga, meditating, making soup from scratch, reading, writing, learning a new language...

It all sounded horrible. Your mind was collapsing on you, but this time you're not a kid, this time you don't have a great excuse. You'd let some petty drama taint your every waking moment, and you didn't have anyone to blame but yourself. You were too scared to do the right thing, you could see that now, that back when this conflict had started you'd assumed your boss and everyone else would side with you, just because they already knew you. You'd let Yunho get under your skin, to the point that every word he uttered made you angry, letting him in so deep that there was no way out. Not now. You knew this wouldn't be resolved, because you couldn't do it; you could never admit these things to him that you'd just admitted to yourself. You could never apologize, never acknowledge that you played a part. You'd sat yourself staunchly in a position, the innocent one who'd been wronged time and time again by the aggressor, and stepping down from that pedestal would hurt you more than you thought you could bear.

It was the shame of fucking up. Of not being perfect. A conversation from therapy, from almost ten years ago, ricocheted to the front of your mind. 'You're quite a perfectionist, y/n. Do you realize that? It makes you avoid doing certain things, even if you know they're the right thing to do.' You can still see your old therapist's face, her glasses near the tip of her nose as she eyed you. How could you still be right where your fourteen year old self was? You looked like her too, your skin burning with embarrassment at how you hadn't realized that yourself. It felt humiliating to have to be told, because that in and of itself proved you were imperfect. That you weren't totally and completely self aware. The biggest shame you carried was knowing that despite how hard you tried, you never were very good at knowing yourself.

You laid face down on your bedroom floor. You didn't have the energy or motivation for anything else. You knew clinically speaking, this looked like the start of a depressive episode. But you hadn't had one in years now and were out of practice. What were you supposed to do now? All that felt okay was sinking more into your head, letting the darkness envelop your mind and take you on a ride through your worst memories, your heart racing despite your complete lack of physical exertion.

By early afternoon you'd had enough of that horrifying roller coaster. When you sat up your neck ached, your body screaming at you to never collapse in that position again. You felt jittery, restless, but nothing at home sounded appealing still, not in the slightest. Your eyes catch on your winter boots in the corner of your room, too big to fit on the shoe rack by the front door. And suddenly your mind is made up in less than a second. It was time to go for a walk, to get out of the house. Maybe the cold air would clear your mind.

"Hey, I'm gonna go grab some snacks at Smith's, do you need anything?" you call through Yunji's bedroom door.

"You're going out in this weather?" she asks, opening it.

"The snow let up a lot today, and I'm running low. And I'm feeling too cooped up. It's only five blocks, I'm sure I'll be fine."

"Ok, well, I don't think I need anything. I stocked up on Pocky last time we were there. Are we almost out of toilet paper or paper towels?" she asks.

"No, I just checked," you respond.

"Okay. Be careful," she says, smiling.

"I will, I promise," you say before walking toward the front closet, grabbing your big winter coat and zipping it up.

The outside air is a shock as it greets your face, making your cheeks turn pink almost instantly. The world is still bright, the sun shining the warmest it will all day, but you can see darker clouds off in the distance. You hope they aren't moving too fast; there is only a slight breeze in the air, and mostly it's just so quiet, even with a second snow plow heading down your street. It does feel relieving, a least a little, to finally be outside, and a part of you feels proud for actually going out, given how scared you were this morning. You feel like you're maybe proving to yourself that you aren't such a wuss, that you aren't so prone to avoiding things that one day it'll ruin your life. You walk briskly, your nerves buzzing as your heart rate rises to keep you warm.

It feels nice to be buying your favorite snacks, and you're able to get lost in the normalcy of it for a few minutes. The store is almost empty, so you try making light conversation with the one cashier working, his long hair covered in a beanie. Strolling back outside you're met with the chilly air again, a gust of wind nearly knocking you off your feet as you make your way through the small, empty parking lot. You could have sworn you were only in there for maybe ten or fifteen minutes, but the sky looks almost completely different now, those dark clouds having descended on your area. You start your way back up the hill, bracing yourself against the growing winds, when the sky lets out a low rumble that shakes you to your bones. Suddenly it's raining, the air warm enough to turn the snow into sleet, and it's soaking your face and your hat and your gloves faster than you can believe. The paper bag holding your snacks is disintegrating in your hand, and you shove it under your coat to try to protect it, the cold bag on your stomach making you shiver.

"Fuck, this was a bad idea," you mutter to yourself, shakily making your way finally into your neighborhood, crossing the street that separates the houses from the row of commercial buildings. Your whole body is shaking, your head turned to the ground as you try to avoid getting sleet in your eyes and try to avoid falling. You're moving much slower than you were on your way to the store, carefully planting your feet one in front of the other as you hold your snacks against your stomach. Your brain feels fuzzy, the wind whipping past your ears, and all you can manage to think is, 'just make it home, just make it home.' It's only about three more blocks, you should be able to make it just fine, if you just keep putting one foot in front of the other, if you just keep going, keep goin-

Suddenly someone has grabbed you, your body thrown up like a rag doll, your upper half thrown over their shoulder. You let out a guttural scream, the sound hoarse and weak and getting lost in the storm. You're furiously flailing your legs, wiping the water from your eyes to try to get a look at anything, your lungs heaving as you scream again, this time, "Let me go!!"

The grip on your legs only tightens after your outburst, and then you're hearing a door whooshing open, warmer air greeting you as you enter some house, your eyes able to make out hardwood floors and the large boots of whoever's holding you hostage. You're breathing ragged, trying to get ahold of yourself and figure out where the hell you are, and when you catch a glimpse into the front closet of this house you see those navy blue shoes, with that very unique toe box...

Part 2

Thank you sm for reading! <3

#ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #ateez yunho #yunho x reader

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roguishcat · 2 months ago

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Upon reflection, I find you perfect

This is for an ask by @pebble-bb where Astarion gets to see his reflection for the first time. Absolutely lovely idea and I'm sorry it took me ages to actually post it!

@busy-baker has already posted hers because she is amazing! The writing is gorgeous, tender and beautiful! Here is the link so check it out!

This has no beta. So I apologise in advance for mistakes.

Word count: 2.7k

Pairing: Astarion x female Reader

"What have you got there, love?"

"Nothing!" you say a little too quickly and attempt to hide the package behind your back.

Astarion clicks his tongue and slips his long fingers under your chin, tilting your head up so you have no choice but to look straight at him.

"Tsk, cheeky pup. Lies don't become you. Out with it!" he says in a stern voice, but his eyes shine with mirth and his lips twist into a smile.

"What are you hiding that has you flustered such a fetching shade of red, hm?" he lifts his other hand to push your hair back and expose your neck. Soft digits touch skin, making you shiver.

"Nothing?" you try again, wriggling away from him, but you know it is futile. When one becomes the subject of a vampire's attention, one does not get away until the said vampire decides to set the victim free. And Astarion obviously has no intention of doing that.

"I see. Well, this nothing must be worth something, seeing as you are ready to risk baiting a predator to conceal it. Is it really a wise move to entice me when I'm itching for any excuse to devour you?"

As pleasant as that sounds, you have to be out of the inn and on your way. You have an appointment with an artificer that you must keep. It was difficult enough to convince him to take on the project, as he stated that he 'was an inventor and objects of petty vanity were beneath him'. It took coin, promises of securing rare materials, and some thinly veiled threats for the ingenious but somewhat mad artificer to begrudgingly agree to work on your project.

But you know what Astarion is like. You have to tell him something or he will not let you out of his sight at all.

"Fine. It’s a present for you, happy? "

You give a petulant pout which only makes his smile grow wider.

"Aren't I lucky that you want to spoil me? And my goodness, how your heart flutters!" he chuckles and places a kiss over the bitemarks on your neck. "Must be a very, very special present."

"It is, but it's not done yet. So you better not try to take a peek!" you push against his chest.

"Oh my sweet, you wound me! Are you insinuating that I will try to steal it and see what is inside?"

"Not insinuating, telling you outright that you better not go snooping through my things."

"Fine!" he sighs, pretending to be hurt by your words. "I will not go through your things. Cross my heart and hope to- well, you get it," he grins and finally moves, allowing you to get up.

You have the package in your hands and clutch it to close to your chest. You can feel ruby red eyes follow your every movement and try to ignore him as you quickly dress, keeping the present close at all times lest Astarion decides to swipe it when he thinks you are distracted.

Several hours later you find yourself stomping your way back to the inn, absolutely livid, fingers twitching as you try to contain your anger.

That ass! How in the world did Astarion manage to replace your package with a near identical one? You looked like such an idiot, standing in the middle of the forge and gawking at the unexpected contents that spilled out as soon as you unwrapped it.

Astarion gets away with a lot when it comes to you, with you having near no immunity to his charms. But not this time! You are in a terrible mood and he is going to hear all about it!

You storm into your shared room, pushing the door with too much force. It slams against the wall and bounces back with a loud protest, almost hitting you in the face.

“Astarion, you are unbelievable!" You point an accusatory finger in his general direction. "I have half a mind to-”

Then you stop abruptly as you notice shards of glass scattered about the floor, tens of your reflections frowning back at you.

“Oh yes, darling, I do apologise. I- I’m afraid I couldn’t resist,” Astarion's back is to you and he makes no move to turn around.

“What happened?” you ask softly, picking up what is left of the mirror off the floor. This clearly is no accident. It has been smashed violently and, from the looks of it, repeatedly.

“You know how it is sometimes,” Astarion says woodenly. “Butterfingers, I’m afraid.”

You take a tray off the table and put the remains of the mirror on it with shaking fingers. Distracted and barely paying attention to what you are doing, you accidentally pierce one finger with a jagged edge. Blood pebbles on skin, but you care little. The wound does not worry you as much as Astarion's lack of reaction to the smell of your blood.

Choosing to deal with one issue at a time, you set the tray aside and walk towards Astarion. His head is hanging low, silver curls somehow looking lacklustre as they hang limply over his eyes.

“My love,” you tilt his head, and although he does not resist, he keeps looking down rather than at you. “Can you please tell me what actually happened?”

Looking downcast, Astarion takes a breath he doesn’t need and swallows, fingers fidgeting nervously in his lap.

“I didn’t believe it at first. But once I realised… ” he finally lifts his face to look at you, his expression momentarily child-like as he recalls making this wonderful discovery. "My own reflection. At first, I was elated. Drinking myself in, turning my face this way and that. But then,” his lips twist, smile turning sardonic, “I looked into my eyes and saw the eyes of a monster staring back. I guess it isn’t often one looks into a mirror and is met with an abomination.”

“Don’t say that,” you plead. You want to hug him, kiss the hurt away. But you feel that this is not the time for touch, no matter how well-intentioned and comforting.

“For years I couldn’t remember what my eyes looked like. Could hardly map out my face from touches and ministrations, through blows and cuts. But now…”

“Now?” you echo, wanting to press your face into the crook of Astarion’s neck and hold him close.

“I guess actually seeing myself as a vampire for the first time brought about the feelings of disgust and self-loathing that I thought I was getting rather good at dealing with,” he gives a little mirthless chuckle, tossing his hair back. Curls fall back into place and as Astarion's face settles into a neutral expression he might as well be a statue. Eerily still and lifeless.

You say nothing at first, letting the silence stretch and gingerly lay a hand on top of his. He does not attempt to move it away. After a while, he turns his hand palm up to interlock his fingers with yours.

“I’m sorry for assuming,” you begin cautiously. “I thought you would love it.”

You feel like crying. You should have asked. Perhaps if Astarion knew about what you have been planning, this would have gone better.

“I did, if only for a moment,” he nods. “It was perfect until it felt tainted.”

Astarion pulls you towards him and you settle into his lap, putting your head on his chest. His hands snake round you and he hugs you close, his shoulders relaxing gradually.

“But this just makes me more determined than anything to enjoy my reflection again, once these feelings pass,” he murmurs.

You look up at your vampire, brushing an errant curl back into place with loving, gentle fingers. "I want to tell you who I see when I look at you."

"Oh, I'm well aware of what you see," he says quietly. "I've long accepted the cards fate dealt me. But it's sweet of you to try."

"Hush, you," you put your fingers on his lips. "Just let me speak."

He doesn’t try to move away or attempt to contradict you. Instead, Astarion looks at you with genuine vulnerability that he allows few to see. You want to tell him how much he makes your heart race, his nearness making you feel dizzy and overwhelmed. You want to tell him how brave, how amazing he was when facing Cazador. How you felt proud of him, honoured to be at his side as he refused to give in to temptation. But there would be other times for that.

"When I look at you, I see a hero,” you try to condense all you feel into few words. “The one we are all indebted to. Savior of Baldur's Gate."

"It does have a rather nice ring to it," he nods.

"Hm, does it not?"

“So my being celebrated is the only reason you are sticking around then?” he teases.

"Maybe in part,” you shrug, corners of your mouth twitching. “But you are so much more than that. I see my best friend, lover, confidant. Someone I can trust with my life. Someone I put my faith in-”

"Well, the jury is still out on whether trusting me is sensible."

"Don’t interrupt,” you move to nip his earlobe with blunt teeth, his mouth immediately clicking closed as he supresses a moan by burying his face in your hair. “And I see someone who trusts me in return. Even if you are very vocal about my battle plans being borderline suicidal, you still have my back."

Astarion mutters something into your hair but otherwise does not attempt to interrupt you.

"You make me laugh. You say the weirdest shit and no matter how awful I'm feeling at the time, your words take my mind off it."

You sit up and gently cup Astarion’s face. Red eyes lock with yours.

"My love, you have survived so much, you are so brave and strong. These feelings, the shadows that haunt you still... You will overcome all of it.”

Astarion does not say anything at first, then he puts his hands over yours, moving his face forward until your foreheads touch.

“I will overcome this,” he says quietly, but with determination. “We have been through so much already! Besides,” he moves his hand to wipe a tear off your cheek, “I would very much like to see us standing side by side. As equals.”

His lips quirk into a smile. It is ghost of a smile still, but it makes you release a shuddering breath of relief.

“I would love that too. More than anything,” you admit.

He kisses your temple and his eyes are drawn to the slowly bleeding cut on your finger.

“Oh dear, it seems that you injured yourself there, you sweet fool,” he admonishes you teasingly, putting your finger into his mouth and lapping at the digit.

You feel your cheeks warm. How is it that he still manages to make you blush with so little effort? It is ridiculous how much you are infatuated with this man.

"And for the record,” you clear your throat, so your voice doesn’t tremble, “I happen to like your fangs and eyes. As an elf or as a vampire, you cut a dashing figure."

Astarion smirks, ruby eyes on your face. He withdraws your finger from his mouth with a pop, giving it a kiss. “How ever did you manage to create such a mirror?”

“Well, it wasn’t actually done. Not properly,” you grumble, remember that you are meant to be annoyed at him for stealing the mirror. “Which is why I told you to stay out of my stuff!” you punch his biceps playfully. He catches your fist and gives it a nip.

“Well, as I admitted earlier, I couldn’t resist taking a peek. Not when you flushed so deliciously when I tried to get an answer from you.”

“You are incorrigible! Had you actually waited, the mirror wouldn’t be so murky and would be floor-length. I have been planning it for weeks, I have you know!”

“My, my,” he gives an amused, toothy grin, “weeks of sneaking about behind my back and I was none-the-wiser! And just when I think that I’ve learned everything about you, you turn around and surprise me with something like that. What a naughty, clever girl,” he purrs against your neck, humming in approval when he hears you gasp at the sensation.

“I believe that we might just call on that artificer after all.”

“We? Who said anything about you being invited along?”

“Hence my inviting myself along, darling. Honestly. Do keep up!” the words are punctuated with shallow nips on your neck, asking for permission.

“Fine,” you laugh, threading your fingers through silver curls. “But just a quick bite, we have to leave straight after. We might be in luck, that man is so fickle and forgetful, he probably hasn’t noticed that I was gone a while.”

You feel fangs pierce skin and then a pleasant, familiar numbness as your vampire drinks, humming in delight as your blood hits his tongue and the taste briefly overwhelms him.

"Perhaps," he resurfaces, lapping at runaway droplets, "that artificer of yours might wait a while still. Give us enough time to indulge in a quick afternoon delight even?"

"Astarion! No!"

"Yes."

"No!"

He doesn't answer this time, but you feel his palm against your side, fingers making their descent deliciously, torturously slow.

You grip them firmly, ignoring the way your heart beats wildly, which Astarion picks up on and tries to move in for a kiss. You turn your face at the last moment, his cool lips meeting your cheek.

"Tsk, you're no fun," he chuckles, moving back enough for you to scramble away.

"Because you are the designated 'fun one' in this relationship," you tug sharply at your shirt and clear your throat. "You're coming?"

"Apparently not anytime soon," he grins at your unamused look." But I will walk down to the forge with you. Since you asked so nicely."

A few weeks later in spite of some minor mishaps, your project is complete. You can scarcely believe it and hope that Astarion will not find the experience overwhelming.

And this is how you and Astarion find yourself standing hand in hand in front of the improved, bronze-backed mirror, the artificer's magic tweaking its properties and supposedly making it as good as any other mirror out there.

"Ready, my love?" you give his hand a light squeeze.

"With you by my side? Always."

And so Astarion lifts his hand and pulls the fabric off with a flourish.

"Show off," you mutter, making him grin widely as fabric flutters through the air, falls on the floor and finally stills.

You look at Astarion, watching his face closely as his eyes widen and his mouth falls open slightly. Feeling his fingers tremble, you give them a reassuring squeeze and turn away from your vampire to look at the mirror.

And there you are. Side by side. As equals. Not just lovers, but comrades-in-arms, friends. Because come hell or high water, you are there for each other.

"Oh my," you hear Astarion breathe out as he studies his face, "I can see why you can't keep your hands to yourself, my sweet! I'm simply stunning!"

"And humble, too," you tease, enjoying the way Astarion’s eyes light up in delight.

The setting sun frames Astarion's face and threads through his curls, making him shine and glow so beautifully you feel overwhelmed.

With some effort, Astarion tears his eyes away from his reflection and focuses on you.

“Thank you.”

A kiss on your temple.

“Thank you.”

Another on your cheek.

“Thank you.”

His lips find yours. The kiss is languid, unhurried, perfect.

It is a kiss that is full of hope for the future. Your shared future. The future filled with warm, golden days and cool silvery nights. The future where everything seems possible.

💖 Tag list 💖:

@ninty900,

@ayselluna, @dajeong, @ravenswritingroom,

@misscrissfemmefatale,

@clazberryk, @anukulee,

@preciouslittlebhaalbae,

@sh3rl0ck, @mellowenthusiast2299,

@fleetstreet78,

@starlight-rogue,

@obsessedwhyyes, @arzen9

#bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 astarion #astarion #fanfic #astarion fanfiction #baldur's gate fanfiction #fanfiction #astarion x reader #astarion ancunin #astarion bg3 #roguish cat #romance

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honeyxbee · 3 months ago

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Losing Game ― L Lawliet

TW: Some NSFW, implied noncon, Yandere!L, gn!reader, kidnapping, implied stalking, captive reader, threat of intravenous feeding

words: 621

It has been exactly four months, seventeen days, eight hours, twelve minutes, and fifty-three seconds since the last time you saw the outside world.

But who's counting, right?

L is, apparently, as he casually brings it up in the middle of the game of chess he forced politely requested you play with him. Your eyes momentarily flicker up from the board sitting on the table before you; your brows scrunched slightly as you try to figure out why he decided to mention that.

Nothing with L is ever pointless ― you've come to recognize this fact over the last few months. Every word he says, every movement he makes is intentional as if he's a well-oiled machine instead of flesh and bone.

Sometimes, you wonder if he is.

"Is that so?" you settle on as a response, trying to sound casual as you move your piece, capturing one of his pawns. His dark eyes are fixated on yours, clearly searching for a specific reaction, though you're not quite sure which one. But you're almost certain that it's not nonchalance, so that's the one you offer him. It's a petty attempt at meaningless rebellion, really, but it makes him sigh, nonetheless.

You've learned to take any wins you can get.

"You've hardly touched your cake," L comments casually as he repositions his knight, glancing at the uneaten dessert he served you over an hour ago.

"I'm not hungry," you say with your eyes fixated on the chessboard, moving your queen.

"You've hardly eaten."

"That doesn't mean I'm hungry."

"That is concerning. Irregular nourishment can negatively impact your health and well-being. Perhaps we should consider having you fed intravenously, instead."

His words are spoken casually, yet you can't help but grimace at the thinly veiled threat. L is a lot of things, but he's certainly not a bluffer. You glance down at the piece of cake on the table beside you and reluctantly spoon a bit into your mouth, making him let out a short hum of approval and make his next move.

White to Qc6. You chew on your bottom lip in thought, scanning the board for a second before moving your king to avoid being checked. L's lips twitch ever so slightly.

"You're getting better at this," he muses as he moves to capture one of your pawns, his eyes not leaving your face. You try your hardest to avoid his gaze, moving one of your pieces to help defend your king with a slight tremble to your hand.

"You're getting better at this." It's crazy how such simple words can make your mouth fill with bile, the words of encouragement that used to make you beam. But of course, that was back when you first started working with L, bright-eyed and brain-full of fantasies about becoming the next greatest detective.

Before L put secret cameras all over your apartment. Before he drugged your tea and took you to his home, where he sat you on his lap and fucked you for the first time, murmuring those five little words of praise in your ear. Before he locked you up here, turned you into his prisoner with the excuse that he was doing it all to protect you.

"Checkmate."

L's voice forces you out of your thoughts, blinking at the board with a small frown on your lips when you see that he has won the game. Again.

He smiles slightly when he notices your expression, tilting his head in thought. "Did you think you were going to beat me?" His voice is full of genuine curiosity ― as if the concept of you beating him in something is a strange thought. And you suppose it is.

After all, L never loses.

#death note x reader #yandere death note #death note smut #yandere l lawliet #l lawliet x reader #l smut #death note #l x reader #l lawliet x you #l lawliet x y/n #l lawliet #l death note

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warblogs17282 · 2 months ago

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Stolas within parties, and unhealthy coping mechanisms. (Featuring Blitz)

Let's start with a bit of concerning behavior in regards to the happy pills.

We see Stolas take two pills at the start of the day, the day where he's about to meet Blitz again for the first time in years.

But when we see Stolas again after the events of s1 e7? He takes three pills, so at some point between these two moments in time, Stolas upped his dosage, and honestly, my guess is that the of events of s1 e7 is the start of Stolas upping his dosage, although I don't have any evidence to support this. While this doesn't point to anything in specific, it's still behavior to be a bit concerned about.

The Parties and Problem Drinking.

One of the things that interested me the most was Stolas being able to call Verosika's party as being about 'mutual pettiness' so quickly, and that got me thinking about the similarities between the parties that Stella hosted, and the parties that Verosika hosted.

In this part, Stolas feels rather isolated in contrast to the rest of the party talking to each other and having fun, and it's also clear to see that Stolas feels uncomfortable as well. Both of these are obviously because of the fact he still has feelings for Blitz and has just generally been isolated his whole life, but it also shows us a noticeable parallel between this party and the ones that Stella would throw.

Stolas is isolated and uncomfortable yet again. Sure Stolas is uncomfortable at Stella's parties for different reasons, but there's still two links between them I can notice.

The first being the reasons why both parties have been thrown in the first place, and the second being Stolas' relationship with alcohol in regards to parties.

"Stolas, you know I like throwing parties!" This implies that Stella throws parties quite often, and considering how these parties are really just thinly veiled excuses to allow Stella to gossip and chat shit about Stolas to her friends while being right next to Stolas, it gives us another reason as to why Stolas is uncomfortable being at Verosika's party besides his feelings for Blitz and being isolated his whole life.

It's because one of the main reasons Verosika's parties were thrown was to shit talk and to antagonize Blitz, or 'celebrating mutual pettiness' as Stolas rightfully calls it. There's various other reasons why I don't exactly believe that the primary reason why Verosika threw the parties was to 'help others cope', that I've covered before. It's clear in her behavior both inside the party and outside the party (for example, s1 e3), that Verosika hated Blitz for what he did to her before. (I'm not claiming that Verosika isn't allowed to be angry at Blitz for that, but her behavior up to this point is 100% going overboard.)

Alongside the violence against the Blitz shaped merch and cakes (which I will cover in this post), we see Verosika openly insulting Blitz to the entire crowd, and we know that Stella would insult Stolas to her friends at her parties. So, it wouldn't surprise me if another part of the reason of why Stolas is so uncomfortable is because he's been in a similar situation before to what Verosika is doing with the parties in regards to Blitz.

So, another thing we know is that Stella uses physical violence against Stolas, as shown by the time she attempts to backhand him in s2 e1.

Guess what we see a whole bunch of during the party against the Blitz dolls? Sure it's a bit exaggerated with the knives and mallets etc, but it's still physical violence, so it's reasonable to assume another part of the reason why Stolas was uncomfortable at the party was because of his own experiences with physical violence.

"Plus, it's true, so you know you can come if you want." - Stella

"I felt it rude not to stop by." - Stolas

I believe that these two quotes point to a sense of obligation to show up and stay at the parties for at least a little bit regardless of if the party makes you feel uncomfortable. Like that Stolas felt like he had to at least make an appearance and stay for a little bit.

Which begs the question, why does Stolas stay so long at Verosika's party, despite saying "I really shouldn't stay long."?

Two interconnected reasons come to mind. The first being the fact that Stolas was already starting to get himself drunk at the start of the party, which just naturally leads to Stolas just drinking more.

The second reason is probably because of the song. Stolas was very much just thrown into the spotlight and told to sing about his relationship with Blitz, so I wouldn't be surprised if that indirectly pressured him into drinking more, something I cover in the next section.

I think something that we haven't really considered is the PROGRESSION of Stolas drinking in both parties.

Stella's Party: The party starts, Stolas naturally doesn't want to be there and feels uncomfortable, but most likely feels like he's obligated to stay and make an appearance, so he starts it off by drinking a little wine. Then the most difficult part of the day happens, Stella starts talking shit about Stolas to her friends, right in front of Stolas as well. So I assume in an attempt to make the party more bearable for him, he gets the strongest thing he can get his hands on and just starts chugging the bottle.

Verosika's Party: Stolas joins mid-way through, feels uncomfortable being at the party for a few reasons, but again, most likely feels obligated to stay for at least a little while to make an appearance, so he starts drinking from the cups a little. Then Stolas gets to a difficult and emotionally taxing part of the night, the part where he's basically thrown into the spotlight, and made to sing about his relationship with Blitz, around 23-24 hours after the full moon argument. So the emotions surrounding that are still very raw for Stolas.

After that point you see Stolas start drinking a lot more, starting to chug that cup. Plus, when Blitz starts talking to Stolas, he also starts chugging the bottle itself quite a lot, in what I guess was because he was already partly drunk by that point, and in what I think was an attempt to dull his emotions more to most likely make the night more bearable for him.

At least, I think that was the general thought process behind the progression of Stolas drinking in both parties. The scenarios between them both are quite different, but I still think that there's some similarities to be noted here.

So, in conclusion, I believe that part of the reason why Stolas has an issue with problem drinking is because of Stella's parties, and that there's quite a few similarities to be noted between Verosika's party and Stella's party.

Of course, I can't make a post on problem drinking without mentioning the time that Stolas most likely got blackout drunk after the events of s1 e7.

Blitz and Addiction.

Now, I wonder just how many of you thought the question of 'Why is Blitz so concerned about Stolas throwing it back like this?' and the answer lies in Blitz's history with drinking, and addiction.

Let's start with Blitz's father, Cash, it's implied that he's an alcoholic, both from the picture below and from the line "Remember how you used to distract my dad so I could steal his booze?", which tells us that Cash kept himself stocked up on booze all the time. So it shows us that Cash's likely alcoholism was always a part of Blitz's life, all up until Blitz left the circus.

There's also Barbie Wire who got addicted, although on a substance named H-8, instead of booze. We don't know exactly when Barbie Wire got addicted to H-8, but because Blitz says "Oh. Thank, Satan.", and the fact that Barbie Wire means a lot to Blitz, it shows that her getting addicted to H-8 most likely effected Blitz in some negative way.

Finally, Blitz has seen it again with Verosika, who is also an alcoholic, who went to rehab for it but got out because of her celebrity status. When she exactly became an alcoholic and went to rehab we don't know.

Something to note here is that, according to a study, addiction tends to run in families, and dialogue in the Queen Bee episode suggests that Blitz attended those parties Beelzebub hosts a lot in the past, because of this line "He-hey, I knew it was you! Fuck, man, where you been? You here for the party?" and "Come in and show us all up again.", implying that Blitz used to be a regular at her parties.

Plus, in truth seekers, Blitz admits to doing a lot of drugs in college.

The only times we see Blitz drink during this show has been in social settings, and sure while Blitz did invite Moxxie and Millie once on screen to a dive bar, that doesn't change the point I'm making at all.

So, what the show is trying to tell us is that Blitz did a lot of drugs and alcohol in the past, and nowadays he's not completely avoiding alcohol, but the only times he'll drink is in social settings.

Regardless of how bad things have gotten for him, such as Ozzie's for example, Blitz refuses to drink or do drugs at all, he just ended up having a cry session on the couch and just consumed ice cream. Compared to Stolas who dealt with everything by most likely getting blackout drunk.

I imagine that Blitz very intentionally limits himself on doing drugs and alcohol, because he knows so many people that have the issue of addiction.

#helluva boss #blitzø #blitzo #stolas #stolitz #helluva boss stolas #stella goetia #hb verosika #LONG POST #MY LONGEST POST YET #helluva boss meta #helluva boss analysis

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deadtired-highkeyenergetic · 7 months ago

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Catstarion

Sorry for the slow uploads, been going out with friends and working for a bit but here's the next one, inspired by @bg-brainrot's post here. Thank you for the idea!

As you set your cup down, ready for another round of wine, you sense something, no, someone staring intently at you. Turning around, you find Astarion standing at the stairs leading up to the rooms, ruby red eyes piercing into your very soul as he stares, arms resting on the banister.

You’ve known him long enough to know what this means so with a sigh, you thank the bartender for his hospitality, excuse yourself from your increasingly drunk group of companions and head over to the stairs.

The vampire grins when he sees you approaching, gently pulling you to one side by your arm.

“Already turning in for the night, my sweet?” His fingers trail up your arm, lips whispering in your ear. The tips of your ears burn, feeling his words ghost over them.

“So it seems,” you reply. “Care to join me?”

The corners of his lips curve upwards, a sparkle in his eyes as he takes your hand in his, intertwining your fingers and gently takes the lead, thumb running over the back of your palm. His wordless answer brings a small smile to your face and you let him guide you, annoyance left at the bar counter.

He turns the corner and opens the door to his room, ushering you in before closing the door behind him. He remains standing at the door as you make your way to the bed, getting comfortable before patting the spot next to you but he doesn’t move.

Raising an eyebrow, you tuck yourself under the covers before patting the pillow next to yours and yet he refuses to budge. Well, third time’s the charm, right? You open your arms and he immediately shoots over, burying himself in your embrace. Amused, you chuckle, which sends reverberations through him. He happily hums in response, shifting so that you have easy access to the entirety of his hair and grabs one of your hands, dropping it on the top his head.

“Don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten,” you snort as you begin to run your fingers through his soft white curls. He lets out a sigh of contentment, basking in the familiar rhythm of your fingers combing his locks, massaging his scalp along the way. The gentle movements start to lull him into a trance and he feels his eyes begin to close, his grip on your clothes loosening but then you do the unthinkable.

You shift.

Immediately his eyes snap open and he turns to glower up at you. You raise your hands in surrender, eyeing him warily as he scowls.

“My love, please do not interrupt my trance again.”

“Sorry, won’t happen again.”

“It better not.”

With a huff, he turns, stretching out across your legs like a cat before curling back up, feeling your fingers continue their movements through his hair. He loves it when you do this, when you let him trance whilst resting on you without making a single fuss even though you have little to no intention of going to sleep yourself. He loves how you don’t mind carving out time for him amidst your busy schedule, you could always ignore him until you were done drinking but you always responded to his call, putting aside your own needs and wants for him. He knew he could ask anything of you and you would do it, without crossing the boundaries the both of you had set at the start of your relationship of course.

To him, you always had something better to do than attend to his petty whining but to you, he always came first and he still couldn’t fathom why. Maybe one day he would, perhaps if he sat you down and talked to you about it, he would understand, but that would be after The Absolute was defeated and the worms were removed. He was becoming more positive about the party’s prospects in a fight against The Absolute, although he preferred hiding such feelings.

As your fingers continue to work their magic in his hair, his thoughts drift to the many ways you’ve upended his life. You’ve shown him what it means to love, what it means to be genuine, what it means to care about others. You’ve added to his life, and changed things that were already in his life. You’d made it your whole mission to help him associate actions that once caused him pain and misery with something more pleasant, the only reason why he could slip into a trance whilst you ran your fingers through his hair. Back then, such an action always came with —

Cough.

Astarion groans, reaching up to poke your cheek, “I’m trying to trance here, love. A little peace and quiet would be nice.”

“Sorry,” you pout, giving him the puppy dog eyes he can never resist and he lets the matter slide, returning back to his thoughts and attempt to trance.

You’re always careful to not pull his hair, with knots always being gently untied either with your fingers or a comb should one be nearby. You’re also the only one he trusts to take care of his hair, whether it be washing or helping to maintain it.

He feels you rest your free hand on his waist, the warmth from your palm spreading through his cold undead body and feels the urge to slip into a trance wash over him once more. Knowing he is safe in your arms, for nothing will be able to hurt him when you’re around, he lets the urge take hold, readying himself for whatever nightmares could plague his rest.

That is if you didn’t sneeze right there and then.

Astarion clicks his tongue, refusing to even open his eyes and exclaims, “Gods, how am I supposed to trance in these conditions?”

He buries his face into your thighs, putting up a dramatic show of angrily muttering under his breath while you apologise, struggling to hold in your laughter.

“Come on Astarion. If you want to trance properly, you should’ve just told me to go to sleep!”

“But then you wouldn’t be able to do…this!” He gestures vaguely in the direction of your hand which is still buried beneath his white curls, letting out yet another huff.

“You’ll have to choose one then, Star. I can’t seem to do both.” There’s mirth in your voice and for a moment Astarion wonders if you’re just toying with him but then the look in your eyes reassures him and he lets out a sigh of resignation, sitting up so that you can get into a comfortable position to sleep.

“Fine. Sleep next to me, my love.” He wraps you in a cocoon made from his arms, nuzzling into your neck and feels his fangs press against your skin — the only barrier between him and your blood. Yet you don’t flinch, trusting that he will only bite after asking you for permission and snuggle against him under the covers.

“Stop spending so much time with them,” you hear him mumble. So that was why he was acting so weirdly all night.

“You have me all to yourself every night, don’t you worry.” You press a peck to the top of his head, tucking him tighter against your body.

“And you’ll have me for all eternity too.”

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #astarion bg3 #baldurs gate astarion #astarion romance #astarion x durge #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion x you #astarion ancunin #tavstarion #durgestarion #bg3 fluff #bg3 fic

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realcube · 5 months ago

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WRATH & LUST . t.kei / y.tadashi

synopsis ✧ you hate tsukishima kei. you do everything in your power to make his life miserable but nothing works. now you have no choice but to fuck his best friend

cws/tags ✧ college au , enemies to enemies who screw, cursing, slut-shaming (both ways)

parts ✧ i. ii. iii. iv.

your friends call it 'inexplicable hatred', 'misdirected anger' and 'envy' but they couldn't be more wrong.

your feelings towards tsukishima kei were completely rational in your mind. he carried himself as though he was better than everyone and treated those around him like filth, yet he's still tolerated and his shitty attitude is even deemed charming by some self-loathing girls at your college.

it irritates you to no end how he behaves. too cocksure and too sassy; no dignified man should never act in such a manner, you believe. you could go on about other reasons you dislike him — his style atrocities and his punchable face, to name a couple — but you shan't.

you intended on going about your life, simply hating him from afar as you didn't see the need to stir up petty drama. but he made it impossible for you to do so.

one day he was sat behind you in a maths lecture. the seats are tiered so he is slightly higher up than you are. while making notes, his pen slips out of his hand and tumbles forward, landing somewhere under your desk.

you do the polite thing by making an attempt to search for it, but it is dark under the table you can't seem to find it.

a couple moments pass, and he remarks lowly, "are you just going to stare it?"

white hot rage courses through you at his comment. what ever happened to 'please'? to 'would you mind'? you were about to do him a favour by fetching his pencil and he still has the audacity to be snarky.

fuck that, he can pick up his own damn pen. you leave it alone and try to focus on the lecture.

you make it through the whole thing without him bothering you again, probably using a spare or borrowed pen. once the class has been dismissed, you gather your things and wait for the people in your row to start filtering out so you can leave, that is when you feel a gentle tap on the shoulder.

you turn around and lock eyes with a tan, freckled boy with mousy brown hair, he wears an awkward smile and point to your desk, "excuse me, my friend dropped his pencil and i think it landed under your desk. could you get it, please?"

his voice is meek and demeanour similar to that of a shy puppy, which is why it almost pained you to scoff at him and say, "tell your friend to stop being such a cunt, then maybe."

you rush out of the door, keen to get as far away from those two boys as you can. yet as you leave you hear the blonde's voice mutter in your wake, "what a moron."

after marinating on the situation during the retelling to your friend group, and a group vote, you came to the conclusion that perhaps your response to yamaguchi — you learned his name from one your friends — might have been a bit severe. but in your defence, you were peeved by the comment tsukishima had made prior.

it's as though manners and etiquette are totally lost on him.

ೃ⁀➷

two weeks passed since your last little altercation with tsukishima, and you were proud to say you haven't been involved in any conflict with him since then. mostly making snide remarks in passing or exchanging dirty looks in the hall.

however, that all changed when your professor was late to one of your classes. they expressed in the past that they prefer students to wait outside the lecture theatre when they aren't present, so naturally this caused many people to be clogging the hallways.

there was a long queue of people waiting to enter, you stood far away from the door, while tsukishima and yamaguchi happened to be standing opposite. you couldn't help but notice the outfit tsukishima had on: skinny light brown trousers with a black belt, and a pressed short-sleeve white shirt, that was a bit see-through.

you didn't know much about this guy but from his slightly toned figure, which was made apparent by his choice in clothes, you could tell he does some sort of sport. probably basketball, considering how tall he is, but maybe golf. he acts like a golf player.

lost in thought for too long, your finally yanked out of your own internal monologue by a familiar voice snapping, "what are you staring at?"

you blink, and before you even have time to process what he just accused you of, you blurt out, "has anyone told you that you're dressed like a slut today?"

yamaguchi must slap a hand over his mouth to suppress his burgeoning laughter. tsukishima's eyes narrow at his friend's offensive display, before they snap back to you and he argues, "really? me? i'm dressed appropriately. take a look at what you're wearing."

he motions to your outfit: jorts and a tank top. maybe not the most stylish choice but definitely not as whorish as his attire. "it might be more revealing but still not as slutty as you."

he rolls his eyes like what you said was contradictory, wearing smug smile. he wants you to believe what you said is nonsensical and 'proved his point' but all it does it anger you to no end.

not fond of his facial expressions, you retort, "don't pull stupid faces and play dumb. you're already dumb enough as is, so it isn't a very becoming look on you."

with furrowed brows, he opens his mouth to say something, but you cut him off, "and i can see your chest through your shirt. no one wants to see that!"

"you say that while your tits are out, have some self-respect."

"at least i have tits. you're wearing a short sleeve to show off the muscles you don't even have!"

yamaguchi is thoroughly entertained by this squabble, which is why it pains him to chime in, "uh, tsukki. the lecturer is here, let's go."

as much as he wanted to get the last word in, tsukishima glances between tadashi and the empty halls before he decides his education is actually kinda important and begins to make his way inside the theatre. it was good timing because he didn't have a witty response anyway.

your heart is beating rapidly, though you're unsure why. you gaze at the empty walls for a minute to collect yourself before heading into class as well. you totally won that fight, is what you tell yourself.

ೃ⁀➷

ever since the disagreement you had with tsukishima in hallways of the maths building, what was once comments and glares has escalated to threats and insults being made boldly in each other's face.

despite the fact you ate him up the first time, you've been on a losing streak since then. you feel as though nothing you say gets under his skin anymore.

you've tried belittling his face, his smarts, his personality, his mother but nothing seems to work. you even tried to ridicule his glasses but that didn't work either!

"hey, four eyes!"

"hey, five guys."

what the fuck? you weren't sure if that was a dig at your diet, your weight or your quantity of sexual partners but regardless, you could not let that slide.

verbal abuse wasn't working so naturally the next option was physical. you attempted to trip him in the halls but his legs were so long he stepped over you without even noticing. you attempted to pour milk over him but tadashi noticed and pulled him out of the way. you considered pushing his knees while he was standing in front of you but you realised that if he fell backwards his weight would crush you and you'd probably die.

all of that was so elementary and childish though; high school bullying at best. you need college level bullying. you thought about planting weed in his bag and calling the campus police on him but your friends said that was 'too far'. you thought about leaking his nudes but firstly you don't have them and secondly, he's already walking around college half naked anyway so he likely wouldn't be phased by it.

the hard thing about trying to torture a boy like tsukishima is you don't know enough about him to know what will truly drive him insane. you know he cares about his grades but sabotaging his test scores is beyond your means. he doesn't have any dignity so you can't humiliate him. even if you tried, his little gremlin of a best friend would probably catch onto you anyway.

that green haired boy was just as bad as his handler. always gawking at you to make sure you don't try anything; literally glued to tsukishima's ass at all times — it's so gross. and it gave you the most disgustingly perfect idea.

#kei tsukishima x reader #tsukishima x reader #haikyuu x reader #tsukishima x y/n #kei tsukishima x you #hq yamaguchi #yamaguchi x reader

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sahisan · 1 year ago

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ik this is a very very basic troupe but

harbinger scara x harbinger reader and they spar and whoever wins gets to do whatever they want to the loser !!

★ summary: harbinger!scaramouche x harbinger!fem!reader. you owe him a wish after losing at a spar. what has he got for you?...

☆ cw: nsfw. cowgirl (riding). use of 'whore', 'pretty thing', 'fuck'. reader is the 3rd harbinger (yes i love this au sm). scara turns his superior into a mess (yes again). lmk if i missed anything. 1616 words.

☾ a/n: yes this is a continuation of the fics about scara x superior harbinger reader bc im a sucker for this au. first fic here. also inspired by this azeru asmr(⁠´⁠ ⁠.⁠ ⁠.̫⁠ ⁠.⁠ ⁠`⁠)

"i can't let this get serious. can't lose either..." you think, before launching another powerful - but not really - hit with your infused weapon to scaramouche's side.

yes, you're missing on purpose - but not to concede, just to not kill him by accident. "the top-ranked harbingers, up to no. 3, possess powers which can rival the gods." you remind yourself in your own head that you're 3rd, and he's just 6th. if you won't hold back, something very, very bad might happen. so you hold back, fighting not at full strength, throwing infused hits here and there, but mostly just dodging scaramouche's attacks.

the rule is simple: the first one who falls to the ground with either their front or back loses, and the loser owns the winner a wish.

it's not like you want to come off a loser and owe him that shitty wish - you don't want to lose, but you don't want to kill him or seriously injure him too. so, it's either you're fighting carefully, controlling your powers, or either he-

"ah!" you yelp, thoughts interrupting when the handle of his katana hits your back, sending you stumbling over your feet and falling on the white, snow covered ground with your front, your weapon falling off somewhere to the side. it's not long until you feel scaramouche's boot pressing onto your back to keep you pinned to the ground. "what a bastard." a thought crosses your mind, before you lift your head off of the snow just enough to breathe.

"well, well, well... if it isn't the third who owes me a wish now." he taunts, making you huff in frustration.

"i was holding back!" you protest, but he quickly interrupts your further complaints with applying now much more pressure with his foot on your back. you barely hold back an audible gasp, a grunt leaving your lips as you try to keep quiet. scaramouche smirks.

"what a petty excuse." he mocks, his boot leaving your back and letting you properly sit up, grumbling about how "not petty" it really is. "you just wanted me to win, didn't you?" he laughs right after, dissolving his own katana in the air as he stares down at you.

if it weren't for the ranks, anybody could've thought that he's just sparring with another lowly fatui soldier.

"so... a wish." scaramouche taunts, walking slowly around you, snow making a slight sound each time he makes a step. "care to know what my wish is?" he smirks.

"i always knew that you were a bastard." you mumble before shaking your head while standing up. when finished with shaking the snow off your clothes, you cross your arms over your chest, raising an eyebrow at him. "so?"

he grins. devilishly. it looks so devilish that you shiver involuntarily, but blame it all on the harsh cold instead.

"let's say... it's a challenge." he laughs yet again, then sighing softly as he finishes, and looks up at you - eyes full of amusement and anticipation.

"we're heading to my chambers, and who cums first - loses. this is my wish, dear [name]."

scaramouche's hands are in a bruising grip on each of your hips, pushing you up and down on his cock as he watches your eyes roll to the back of your head. "t-that's it, fuck... ride me like the heated whore you are." he mumbles, helping you with the pace.

you fail to make a normal response, the only sounds coming from your mouth being small whimpers and moans which you fail to muffle by biting on your lower lip. scaramouche watches as your breasts sway up and down under your almost translucent shirt - how considerate of you to wear this exact one for a meeting with him.

one of his hands, not even trying to fight the temptation, goes up right underneath your shirt, squeezing one of your breasts a few times and rubbing your nipple. you whine and let out another quiet moan, this time a bit longer than the previous one. he smirks, but it's not long before you squeeze the walls of your cunt around him in revenge for his little doings. your eyes open to look down at him as you do so, and you watch as he grits his teeth and his breathing hitches.

"f-fuck- don't do that..." scaramouche mutters quietly, exhaling shakily. you grin at him, grinding your hips up and down on his length, and then your walls clench around him once again, to make him cum first. he breathes out once more, his eyes looking up at you, completely dazed as he looks at your bouncing upper body. your legs and hips are probably sore from moving so much, but he doesn't care - not when you looked so fucked out, with your hair messy, lips swollen while biting your lip again, and even slightly teary eyes.

he knew you did your best to make him cum first - to see him finally lose.

you knew he did his best to make you cum first - to see you finally break down under his influence, letting him have his way with you.

"look at that pretty expression." scaramouche chuckles as his hand slides back to your hip. to prevent you from stopping, he sets the pace of your movements himself - or, at least, fixes it to be a bit more quick. "the mighty third harbinger trying her best not to lose again... what a pathetic sight."

"s-shit... slow down, please, scara..." you mutter, head tilted towards the ceiling as you feel him pushing your hips down on his cock in a fast pace, trying to make you lose control first.

"oh, what, are you about to cum, pretty thing?" he taunts mockingly and immediately feels you clenching around him as he calls you that. "what was that, pretty thing? you like that?" he raises an eyebrow up at you expectantly, chin prodded up as he keeps pushing your cunt down on his length.

"n-no!.." you quickly reply, trying so bad to prove him wrong, yet your voice is too weak and high-pitched due to - you can't keep denying it - how good you feel and how close you are. not too close, but close nevertheless. "i-i won't- a-ah!.."

your head throws back in pleasure as the tip of his cock proceeds to kiss your cervix, and scaramouche nearly moans himself. there's no denying that he feels just as good as you do - but he will definitely not lose. he'll do everything in his power to make you cum first.

even if it means to resort to cheating methods.

one of scaramouche's hands slides from your hip to your clit, his thumb starting to rub it in slow, circle motions, as he watches you stutter, writhe and whimper, your unsteady and shaky hand coming to grab his wrist in a futile attempt to stop him. his cock still sliding in and out of your hole, hitting all the right spots makes it even better worse.

"s-scara, nghh... 's unfair, wait, d-don't- ah!.. you- cheater..." you squeak at him, but, already now chasing your building up orgasm, can't do anything to stop him and yourself. your up-and-down moves become grinding partially, and then his hand pushes your hips down, making it thrusts again.

scaramouche won't lie - he too wants to cum, he needs to cum, but before he does he needs to see how you'll break.

and he himself won't last long.

"t-that's it, fuck- come on, cum, pretty thing, i know you want to cum..." he murmurs, hearing you whine out loud at the petname again, walls clenching around his girth once more. he notices your bouncing has become slow, showing that you don't want to lose despite how bad you want to finish, and the hand that rests on your hip starts to set up the pace itself for you, and you're barely able (read as: not able at all) to hold back a long, weak mewl that slowly becomes a moan and a shaky breath, as he continues to rub your sensitive clit.

"s-shitshitshitshit- scara, scara, scara, i'm c'mming, i- g'nna- ah-"

you cum with a trembling, long lasting whimper, head throwing back as you subconsciously continue to move your hips slightly up and down and forward to ride out the aftermath. your lips part and you pant, chest moving when you do.

scaramouche looks completely mesmerized by your fucked out expression - you even have little drops of tears in the corners of your pretty eyes. he finishes right after you with a shaky exhale, spilling ropes of his warm cum inside you, watching as it drips out of your hole while he's still inside you, creating a white ring around his cock. he pushes your hips completely down onto him to stop your movements and to not let any more of his seed spill out of you.

"[n-name]..." he breathes out, eyelids closing as he tries to calm his unsteady whiffs down. he then chuckles, eyes opening and looking at you. "you lost though. again."

"s-shut up..." you whisper, muttering a few more curses about what a bastard he is.

scaramouche laughs once more. "care to repeat that, pretty thing?" he coos, and then hear you mewl, your cunt clenching around him again.

"no. just shut up already." you mumble, falling on top of him, not caring about that you lost, or that you both need to clean up after this little... competition of yours.

"alright then..." he snickers, letting out a deep breath and putting his hands on your back as if soothingly, rubbing your skin through your shirt in circles. "didn't know you could become such a mess.."

"shut up!"

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jungwnies · 2 years ago

Text

syn ' he was having a bad day, and unfortunately takes it out on you. how does it end? pairing ' bf!taehyun x gn!reader

496 words

you and taehyun never fight, and that’s not an understatement.

he is always level headed, and never tries to argue with you. there are never even any petty fights.

except for today, he just was not having it. he’s stressed, he’s preparing for the japanese comeback, and he’s just super worked up because he wants the fans to see the best of the best.

usually when he’s stressed out, you don’t really bother him, just simple questions like, “have you eaten,” “do you need anything,” and things like that.

so that’s what you did, when he walks into the house you ask, “did you eat yet?”

taehyun shakes his head and walks straight into the bathroom, which he never does.

you didn’t think much of it considering you know how anxious and stressed he’s been recently, but when he goes into the kitchen scavenging for food you can’t help but ask him what he wants to eat.

“god y/n, i don’t fucking know, stop asking so many questions.” he didn’t yell it, he didn’t shout it, he didn’t even raise his voice, but he said it extremely stern.

you were taken aback and sat back down on the couch ignoring him, he continued to look for food while you sat on the couch watching tv, a bit awkwardly.

you didn’t want to confront him, and you decided to let him have a few minutes to himself to calm down.

eventually he walks into the bedroom with a snack, you didn’t really want to follow him into bed, so you grabbed an extra pillow and blanket from the closet and set up the couch.

taehyun sat in the room alone wondering where you were, and he regretted what he said to you. he was hungry, he was upset, and he was stressed, but that was no excuse for how he acted.

when he walked out the bedroom to go apologize, he saw you sleeping soundly on the couch.

his heart couldn’t help but ache at the sight of you cramped up on the couch, he sat in front of you on the floor and brushed the hairs from your face. he accidentally wakes you up, and you grumble.

“y/n, i’m sorry, will you come to bed with me?” he whispers slowly, taking the blanket off you.

the cold air hitting your skin woke you up slightly, “next time, will you talk to me about your stressors, instead of snapping?” you ask, very quietly.

taehyun kisses the top of your head, “of course, i’m so sorry y/n.”

you smile and stand up and taehyun walks with you to the bedroom, “i can’t sleep without you next to me.” he whispers as you get into bed comfortably. taehyun lays beside you and wraps you in his warmth, “it’ll never happen again, i promise.”

you nod and fall quickly back sleep in his arms.

taehyun admires your feature as you sleep and whispers, i’m such a fool.

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littlenahsstuff · 3 months ago

Text

Sugar, Spice, Not Nice

Bridget x Demigod!reader

Requested by @ladyqueenxoxo

Synopsis:You are hades niece. No one knows you are a demigod or that you are staying with Hades. You hang around his group but don’t fit in at all. You try your hardest but sometimes you crave the sweetest things in life. You are handpicked to mess with Bridget in order to prove yourself. No one knows you are dating her either.

Warnings: not proofread! Bullying. Uliana’s an asshole. I’m not sure how much I like this one, but the endings nice.

Word count: 2.3k

~~~~~

The Vks all sat around one of the courtyard tables. You had to try your hardest not to gag at Hades and Maleficent. It didn’t end well the last time you did. You were lost in thought, thinking about your wonderful girlfriend Bridget.

What kind of sweets will she make today? Maybe I can help her after-

“I’m bored, someone come up with something interesting to do” Uliana demands.

Maybe Bridget will bake-

“Uh hello, earth to Y/n!” Uliana screeches. You immediately focus.

“Oh uh, sorry..” you trail. You know you’ve messed up again based off of the look on Ulianas face.

“What have I told you about apologizing. Seriously for being the only one to care about those stupid honors classes you sure are a grade A imbecile,” she responds and the others laugh at you. You just nod and shrink a little.

“Hey Uli,” Hook starts. He’s looking at you menacingly. “I think the honors girl here needs some sort of extra credit. Let’s give her something evil to do!” The panic is growing exponentially. You haven’t had to actually do anything evil yet, mainly sending some half-assed insults.

Uliana’s grin grows. “Why do you look so nervous Y/n? Scared of doing a little bad? I guess you do need it. The petty thievery and cheating doesn’t cut it anymore.”

“No, I’m just having an off day,” you excuse. You gulp. You’ve also tripped a couple of people and maybe driven Ulianas car as the getaway driver while they stole a hamster from the store. You felt so bad for the little guy. It’s not like you were the meanest but looking back on it you sure as hell were bad a lot.

“Well… in that case” Uliana’s voice gets high pitched. “We should give you something easy! Why don’t you prank Bridget for me. I have yet to do it this year, with the fresh meat and all that.” You get confused and terrified. “You’re new, but Bridget happens to be my favorite target. I always typically set aside the nastiest of my plans for her.” She cackles, making the already cavernous pit in your stomach bigger.

“Oh really?” You say. You can tell any strength in your voice is gone.

“Yeah, so… this year we were planning something a little more personal. We know Bridget takes those stupid honors classes too. That makes you the perfect candidate for this particular prank,” Uliana chuckles darkly. “That brat is always trying to make friends, so let’s give her exactly what she wants. Once you manage to do so you are to hide these magic beans in her room.” She held out the beans and they shimmered. Magic beans were totally illegal and would get Bridget expelled if anyone found it. You twiddle your thumbs as a slight sweat breaks out.

“But- what if-“ you’re cut off.

“Come on y/n don’t be so chicken!” Hook laughs. You look at hades and he sends you back with a raised brow.

“Okay, I’ll do it.” You say. Uliana breaks into a wicked grin. The bell chimes.

“Great. It’s almost first period, why don’t you hop along,” she finishes and motions for you to leave with her hand. You nod, grab the beans, and rush to class.

You decide you have to tell Bridget, even if it might leave you without any friends.

You get to Honors Alchemy 2 just in the nick of time, meeting Bridget at the front. She squeals and gives you a hug. You awkwardly pat her back and look around.

When she pulls away her smile disappears. You take a deep breath.

“Bridget…” you start with a gulp, “I may have gotten myself into trouble.” She gasps.

“Not yet,” you continue, it’s- well. Uliana gave me some magic beans and told me to put them in your room as some sort of prank. I know how evil it is and I’m really sorry.” You said it so fast you had to take a big inhale. Bridget softens.

“Sugar, it’s okay,” she grabs your arm.

“I just don’t know what to do. I mean, they’re my only friends other than you and- well I fear going against- he won’t like- oh.” You pause, realizing Bridget deserves to know of your situation eventually.

“It’ll be okay! But I might be a little confused, who’s he?” She gets that adorable big stare you love whenever she needs help. It makes you melt a little.

“Hades is… my uncle. Only him and Maleficent know. He is technically my guardian while he is on Olympic probation. My dad added me onto the punishment,” you whisper before chuckling bitterly. “I just worry he’ll get even more angry at me when we’re home.” You look down. Bridget stops it with a hand tilting your face to look at her.

“You should never have to worry about that. But wait, dad… as in?” She questions.

“Zeus… I’m a demigod…” you squeak. Her eyes bulge for a second.

“Do you have powers too!?” She almost yells. You shush her.

Professor Merlin clears his throat,

“Ladies, class must begin. I do hope you’ll keep the chatter to a minimum.” He grumbles, not too angrily, however.

“Yes, um could we maybe talk more about this after school? I still have no clue how I’m to go about this,” you request. She nods enthusiastically. The rest of class you focus on getting a good lab grade and do in fact keep the chatter to a minimum. Bridget seems excited the whole time but you just feel awful still for getting mixed up in this mess.

***

When you were done with your classes for the day, you met up with Bridget in her room. You waited nervously before knocking.

When you did she opened the door with a smile.

“Come on in!” She says. She looks adorable in her pink pjs, they fit her personality to a t.

You walk in and she grabs your hands to lead you to her bed.

“So…” she chuckles awkwardly, “do you know what you’re gonna do?” You look down and sigh.

“I had an idea I guess. I was thinking maybe I hide the beans and just try avoiding the group as much as possible. If they say anything I’ll just match their energy and tell them I don’t wanna do the prank or hang out with them. Does that sound good?” You question. Any input would be useful.

Bridget yums but nods, “As long as you’re safe I don’t see why that plan wouldn’t work.” She taps her fingers on her leg.

“Thanks B, I’m a little nervous but everything will work out. Um, anything you wanna know about the whole demigod thing. I’m really sorry for not telling you. I just wanted to be somewhat normal.” You admit sheepishly. She gives you a soft smile.

“Normal is boring, but I understand. Just tell me anything you want to” she resolves. She grabs your hand and holds it.

You take a deep breath, “Well, I age normally, I have these little sparky things when I get really angry but other than that I get hurt the same as everyone else. I don’t really have any more powers than that though. I’m not magic like you are,” you add.

“What about your family,” you get a little bit more sad at that.

“Or, y-you don’t have to tell me!” Bridget fixes.

“No I can tell you. I’m not really allowed on Olympus that much. My mother died when I was really young, hence why Hades is hosting me. He can be chill. He likes doing evil things a lot but he usually doesn’t have a care about anything.” Bridget looks at you and gives you a hug.

“I’m so sorry Y/n, it must still be hard. But the sparky thing is really cool. Maybe I’ll get to see it one day!” She says. You smile.

“Maybe.”

She gasps making you jump a little with how loud it was.

“Hey I have an idea,” she says, “why don’t we go out and get some ice cream!” She squeals and stands up. She pulls you up with a sudden strength, twirling you into her. You both start giggling.

“That sounds very nice Princess B. You know all the ways to my heart.

****

Gapetto’s Gelato was in walking distance in the nearby town. You and Brigette talk about school and a bunch of other random things, giggling and having such a good time. You didn’t even realize you were there.

“Okay I’ll get the ice cream, Strawberry with rainbow sprinkles still?” You ask and she nods.

You go up to the window and go to order it, as soon as you open your mouth you hear very familiar voices behind you. You whip around to see Uliana holding Bridget’s purse way above her head.

“Relax Bridgy, we just want some money to buy icecream! You should understand since you love sweets so much. You should be careful anyways, you might be looking chubby!” Uliana spits, waving it just out of her reach. Your skin prickles. You walk away and shout out a sorry to Gapetto.

“I’ll be back.”

“Uliana come on, just give me my bag. You’re gonna break it!” Bridget stresses. She’s stopped trying to jump for it.

“What, too much exercise? Told you you’re getting chubby!” Hook cackles. Your skin now feels like it’s on fire and you tense up. A faint buzzing can be heard.

“Give. It. Back.” You grit through your teeth. Bridget looks at you, you can’t tell if she wants you to stay out of it or not but either way you’re helping her.

“Oh! Looks like you were doing what you were supposed to, for once. Well, i rather mess with her myself. Your services are no longer required.” Uliana says while another one of her tentacles pushes Bridget hard on the ground.

“The moneys not even in there,” Bridget whimpers. As if lightning courses through your vains you stand up straight and try to hold back. You can feel the sparks forming up your arms.

“I’m giving you one chance Uliana, leave now,” you stomp your foot.

“Ugh, why are you acting like this. Here; take your ugly bag pink piggy,” Uliana says as she hurls it at her. Bridget looks so scared but you manage to catch it by the strap just in time. Uliana cackles. Bridget looks like she’s about to cry and you look down to see it completely ripped.

“Oops… oh well, it was almost as ugly as y-“ before Uliana can finish what she says, you blast a huge lightning bolt at her feet causing her to yelp. “Oh you little shit!” Uliana tries to slam a tentacle into you, you grab it and it spasms away. She lets out another yelp. You hold up your burnt fists at her.

“Try it again fish for brains. I never want to see you around Bridget again. I’m done being your pawn. Bridget is more genuine and beautiful than you could ever be. She’s smart and kind and the best goddamn baker there is and even if she were to get chubby, which she’s not! She would be so much hotter than you on any given day!” You scream. She just rolls her eyes and backs up.

“Fine freak,” she says and walks (stumbles) away with a cackling Hook. You whip around and make sure all of the energy is dispelled. Since you aren’t raging right now it is but you hold out a hand to Bridget. She grabs it and you try not to wince at the sting when you pull her up.

“Woah that was- thank you! No one’s ever done that for me before.” Bridget says incredulously. She pulls you by your arms into a kiss. “I love you- Y/n?!” Is the last thing you hear before fainting.

***

When you awake you are in Bridget’s dorm, feeling sore as shit. Bridget here’s shuffling and immediately rushes over to your side.

“Hey there sugar,” she says softly. “I take it that your powers did this?” She carefully picks up your bandaged hands. You chuckle.

“Yup, cursed with a painful gift. I’m sorry for them. If I had known they were always such assholes to you, I would’ve made her into fried calamari sooner.” You giggle. Bridget smiles.

“Well; I hope you never have to do that to yourself again. But… you were- ARE amazing. I love you so much already.” Bridget kisses you on the cheek.

“Can we cuddle. I feel so much better and I just want cuddles please?” You whine, give her your biggest puppy dog eyes. Despot looking very disheveled, Bridget can’t deny how adorable you look. She chuckles and nods, carefully peeling back your blankets and getting in next to you.

“I’m sorry about your bag,” you sigh.

“Don’t be, I’m a princess remember? I can get another one anytime,” she chuckles. You feel like smacking your head. Of course she can, she’s rich.

“Oh. Well, can we make out until my headache goes away?” You instead ask. Once again, making the puppy dog eyes.

“Of course my heart! How long do they usually last?” She asks. You sheepishly grin.

“A couple of days,” you reply, trying to wiggle your eyebrows.

“Well, we better get started then.” She grips your chin softly and gives you a peck before going into the real kiss. Her lips taste like the color pink and sugar and you can’t help but feeling you only ever need her. Princess Bridget will forever be known as the love of your life.

#bridget x reader #disney descendants #rise of red

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