#i don't know you!!!!! that's my purse!!!! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cursedbanalities · 1 day ago

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[[Figured I'd give it a go here!]]

My shoes were wet by the time I got to the manor, as were my pants and most of my belongings. Of course, the one time I didn't bring an umbrella was the time the sky decided to open up and pour all over me. Thankfully, I was able to take shelter on the mansion's deck, huddling under the roof. Despite the creepy and slightly worn-down look, it seemed the family was a fan of the macabre and kept their grounds well-maintained. There was a large graveyard in the distance, something that I had never seen on someone's property before, as well as several gargoyles and wrought-iron fences. Despite how soggy and cold I felt, I couldn't help but wonder what the townsfolk were going on about! These people probably just liked to embrace all things creepy and crawly.

I wiped the rain from my face, and noticed mascara stained my hands black. Great, I look like a friggin' raccoon now! I thought, desperately trying to find napkins somewhere in my purse. The door creaked open as I was wiping the mascara off of my face with a Taco Bell napkin, and I saw an extremely tall man with a square face standing in the doorway. He had to hunch over in order to properly see me, and was dressed in a full suit.

"Oh, I'm sorry!" I said in a hurry, stuffing my wet, soiled napkin back into my purse. I quickly motioned to the storm outside. "The, uhm... the rain slowed me down. I don't have a car, unfortunately. Um... I'm here about the ad?"

The tall man smiled. Lighting struck and thunder cracked as he did so, adding an uncomfortable amount of drama. He turned and began walking away, leaving the door open. At first, I thought he was going to close it in my face, but a moment went by before I realized he meant for me to follow him. I quickly ran inside, the mansion was colder than I had hoped, and carefully shut the door behind me.

I followed the tall man through the manor. The walls were covered with various pictures. Old family members in black and white look sternly ahead, though I could swear I saw their eyes following me as I walked by. A painting hangs over an unlit fireplace depicting a witch burning at the stake, which only furthered the unsettling atmosphere I found myself in. There were a couple of more recent ones as well, depicting a young girl in black, and a pudgy boy with short, black hair. Must be their kids, I thought.

Not long after, I found myself in a conservatory. Gnarled plants on tables line the large windows. A tall, slender woman in a clinging black dress stands in the middle, trimming a black rose bush. She noticed us enter, and she gave a slight smile.

"Ah, a guest. Thank you, Lurch." She said, coolly. The man gave a stiff bow, and left without a word. The woman in black locked eyes with me. "So, what brings you here on this fine afternoon? Were you responding to the ad?"

"Ah, yes ma'am! My name is Sherry. I'd normally agree with you, but the one time I didn't want rain was the day it happened!" She gave a weak laugh, but the woman didn't break her gaze. It was paralyzing, but I cleared my throat. "Anywho... I'm new in town, and I was looking for some extra cash. Times are tough, and when I saw the ad I figured... you know, I like kids! I figured I could watch over your little rascals while you're out and about!"

The woman's scarlet lips split into a smile. "Aahh, I'm happy to hear it! We've had that flier out for a while. I'll be honest, I was about to give up hope of ever finding a babysitter!"

"Y-yes, well... The locals didn't seem to fond of you guys, I'm not going to lie. They warned me about how "creepy" and "kooky" you guys are, but I figured they were just... I don't know... judging a book by its cover? I don't mind the creepy crawlies too much, so I think we'll get along just fine, eh?"

The woman seemed to glide across the ground as she came to shake my hand. "Morticia Addams is the name. Welcome to our terrifyingly humble abode." She motioned around her with her hands, "I'm glad you don't carry the same... prejudices some others have. I won't lie, though. You're not the first to come about the ad. Our kids... well, sometimes their creativity can get to be too much for our babysitters. We haven't been able to get them to stay more than one night! Heck, we've had a couple of people run off before we could pay them!" She let out a hearty cackle, and I weakly joined in with her.

"Haha, yeah, I'd at least have stayed for the money! At least, if it's as bad as you're saying..."

"Oh, nonsense! You're different from the others. Trust me, darling." She gives me a grin, "Besides, we always pay fairly. Even if it's not to your standards the cash will stay the same, if you'd like to get mercenary about it."

"Well, in that case... would you mind telling me how much I'll be paid?" I said meekly, afraid I'd seem ungrateful if I spoke about money too much. With a grin, Morticia led me back into the manor and to an office. She began pulling some lockboxes out with an old key. My mind wandered as she went through the boxes, and I began wondering if this job was right for me. Maybe I'm in over my head. The children's "creativity" seemed ominous, but there's no way that it's that bad, right? The entire town just hates the Addams Family. Maybe I should just make her way back out of the house, just to save my skin!

Though, once Morticia threw a heavy bag on the table, filled with coins and gems, I quickly changed my demeanor. "So..." I began, "When will I get started?"

[[This was fun! Maybe I'll continue this, if I get inspiration. It's a bit of a departure from what I usually do, after all!]]

You, new in town and strapped for cash, see an ad in the paper; apparently, a "Gomez and Morticia Addams" are in need of a babysitter to watch their two children during a business trip. Despite the VERY high pay, no one has pursued it. Ignoring warnings from the locals, you sign up.

#story writing #writer stuff #writeblr #aspiring writer #writers community #creative writing #trans #writer #the addams family #morticia addams #fanfic #2024

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starlightxsvt · 1 day ago

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Ruined | sibilance. 2

synopsis ➳ you are trying hard to move on from him. you thought it would be easy but you should have remembered. never underestimate jeon wonwoo.

pairing ➳ lawyer fem!reader x rich badboy!wonwoo

genre ➳ smut, slight angst, good girl bad boy trope ig

word count ➳ 4.7k

warnings ➳ drunk pi cheolin shenanigans, cursing, wonwoo being a toxic ex, jeonghan being a flirt, pussy eating, heavy makeouts, reader slaps wonwoo.

Chapter 1

The cold night air kisses your heated face, leaving behind a soothing feeling that you close your eyes and savour.

From behind you, inside the restaurant, your colleagues continue chatting and laughing in loud voices, Mr. Pi's voice coming through particularly loud. As much as you enjoy having a drink or two with them after work, the noise was getting too much so currently, you are out here, getting some fresh air.

A figure moves beside you, catching your attention and you look to your left to see Jeonghan standing, a packet of cigarettes in his hand from which he pulls out one and puts it between his lips.

As he fishes into his pocket for something— a lighter you assume, his eyes meet yours and they flash with excitement as a smile kisses his lips. "Hey there. So you were here. I was wondering where you went to."

You laugh softly, crossing your arms over your chest to hide your naked fingers from the cold. "Yep, had to take a break from Mr. Pi's chatter."

Jeonghan laughs, sneaking a glance at your boss through the window of the restaurant and shaking his head. "Oh my god, he is a character isn't he?" You notice him slowly putting the cigarette he took out back in its home.

"I know right," you nod. "By the way," you jut your chin to the poison stick. "Don't stop on my account."

"Ah," he looks down at the packet in his hand and with a smile starts playing with it, moving it between his long, bony fingers. "Nah, I'm trying to quit anyway. And since I'm in the presence of a lady, I should not smoke." He flashes you a lovely grin, the usual teasing present in his voice.

Classic Jeonghan.

You shake your head in amusement, your eyes once again shifting to the packet in his hand.

Wonwoo used to smoke.

You begged him to stop, especially after seeing the harsh fit of coughs he would suffer from.

Gosh, it has been almost a month since you last saw him. How is he doing? Has he gone back to smoking?

Fuck, why do you still care so much?

“If you are really trying to quit, try keeping some lollipops with you,” you offer, giving him the same advice you gave Wonwoo. The man nods and hums thoughtfully but before he can reply, the conversation is interrupted by a sudden commotion. You both whip your head behind to see your three other colleagues supporting your drunk boss by holding him up as they step out of the restaurant, sighing and coaxing the intoxicated man to listen to them. He doesn’t. Instead, Mr. Pi sags lower, singing at the top of his lungs, “Chunsun-ie Chunsun-ie, my dear Chunsun-ie…” You cringe, shaking your head at him mentioning his ex for the hundredth time.

Jeonghan rushes over, pulling the older man to his feet, “Oh dear, Mr. Pi, you are wasted, aren’t you? Let’s get you a cab.”

The man lifts him, easing the burden on your other colleagues who sigh and take a moment to catch their breath. Jeonghan, along with a few others, supports Mr. Pi to keep him standing and hails him a cab while a junior colleague walks to you to hand your purse that you left at your seat.

As a colleague stands at the edge of the pavement, looking for a cab, your drunk boss tries to stand on his own even though his body keeps leaning from side to side. “You!” He points at you with a sudden burst of energy, making you jolt. “My most hardworking, most efficient employee!”

Oh boy.

“You get all the pretty boys, no?” He chuckles. “First the Chairman’s son and now our dear Mr. Yoon!” He hiccups, falling over to Jeoghnan’s side who catches him and flashes a rather amused smile at you.

You tuck your chin low and rub your temples out of embarrassment.

The older man continues, even louder this time, “You chose well! Our Mr. Yoon is a great man! The star of our firm! You guys would be— what do the kids call it these days?” He stops and furrows his brows, concentrating. “Oh, right, a power couple!” He chuckles some more.

“We would be,” Jeonghan humours him, throwing a wink at you. “You are so right, Mr. Pi. Oh look, your cab is here…”

You watch everyone help the boss into the cab and bid him farewell before heaving out a collective sigh of relief and saying their goodbyes. Then once again, silence settles and it is only you and Jeonghan.

His gaze locks with yours and he bursts out laughing. Soon, you follow, a pearl of laughter bubbling up from deep within your belly, so loud and free that you feel a tear form in your eye.

It has been a while since you have laughed like this. After ending things with Wonwoo, you had been feeling low, growing unsure about everything. Then, earlier this week, on Monday, showed up Yoon Jeonghan, a legend at your law firm who was at the Japan branch for the past two years. Charismatic, handsome and smart, Yoon Jeonghan is the perfect package, a natural scene stealer who brought joy to everyone in the office.

You are impressed by him, like everyone else and you consider it a blessing that you are working closely with him. His wits and tenacity were often talked about at the office and you always wondered how he would be as a person.

You were not disappointed.

“He is hilarious.” Jeonghan shakes his head, catching his breath after his laughs die down. You nod, still grinning.

A silence settles as you two start walking side by side. Jeonghan’s warmth next to you is ever prevalent, as you two walk in tandem, the sound of your steps on the concrete in symphony. Sometimes, his arm brushes with yours and you take subtle peeks at his face to see if it was an accident. You find no answers in his visage.

“What do you think of that?” He voices after a long break of silence.

“About what?” You push up your glasses, looking at him.

“Us, being a power couple.”

You flush, quickly averting your gaze, and pulling your muffler up to cover your chin. “Well, by power couple if you mean partners fighting crime then sure, I would love to.”

“But not romantically?” There is that familiar hint of tease in his voice.

You neither reply nor meet his gaze, focusing on the patterns of the asphalt decorating the pavement.

Jeonghan sighs loudly. “Is it about the boy Mr. Pi mentioned? The chairman’s son?”

“Yes.” Your reply is short.

“Lucky guy,” he whistles. “Should have done better.”

You stop in your tracks to face the man next to you. “Mr. Yoon, are you flirting with me?” You raise a brow.

“Took you a while to figure that out, no?” He grins, his smile flirtier than ever. “Also, I told you not to call me that. Jeonghan is fine.”

The smile of amusement creeping up on your lips is hard to resist so you bite down on your bottom lip, searching for words to say.

You decide it is best to be frank and straightforward from the get-go. “I was in a…casual relationship with him. I’m not making that mistake again. I need someone serious.” You explain.

“And you think I’m not serious?” Jeonghan challenges, leaning closer to you.

You open your mouth to reply but shut it immediately when a familiar figure appears in your peripheral vision. Your eyes trace the figure and your heart sinks when you realise who it is.

Wonwoo.

On the other side of the road, in front of the large convenience store, stands Wonwoo. The hoodie and the long coat he is wearing cover most of his frame and you might have not noticed him if it were not for the piercing gaze trained at you.

He stands there, still as a statue, the lights of the convenience store behind him casting weird shadows on his face that do not take away the slightest of his beauty.

What are the chances?

Your heart is galloping.

Frozen in your place, your hands clench into tight fists as the tiny, rational part in your brain screams at you to walk away right now.

Beside you, Jeonghan notices the shift and follows your gaze, looking at Wonwoo, who has now taken notice of the man next to you. Even from a distance, you can see the look in his eyes change as they become sharper and darker, focusing intently on Jeonghan. You know that look far too well.

The look of violence.

Suddenly, you find the strength to move your legs. Prying your gaze off of him, you look at your colleague and speak as calmly as possible. “Mr. Yoon, let’s get a cab from the next block. Come on.”

You take brisk steps ahead, not sparing another glance at Wonwoo. Jeonghan follows you and thankfully does not ask any questions.

—

Your hands stroke the top of his head, fingers combing through his soft fluffy hair in soothing patterns. His face remains pressed at your core, comfortably fitting between your legs as you lie on your back on your bed. A particular harsh suck on your core have you throwing your head back in pleasure, a long drawn out moan escaping your lips.

He raises his head to look at you, a lazy, lustful shine sparkling in his gaze that has your heart and pussy throbbing. Your wetness coats his lips and chin, evoking a deep depravity within you.

“Please.” You whisper.

“What do you want, princess?” He hums, the rich velvet of his voice wrapping around you luxuriously.

“M-make me come, please.”

“As you wish.” He flashes that dashing smirk of his, making you swoon.

His index and middle fingers slide inside you again, nestled between your tight walls. He curls his fingers, hitting that sensitive spot hidden inside you while his thumb brushes over your clit gently, making your whole body shiver.

“Fuck…” You pant, eyes squeezed shut, fingers gripping the bedsheets in an unrelenting hold.

“You like it?” He coos.

You eagerly nod your head.

Wonwoo leans closer to your face his breath fanning your ear as whispers, “Say it. Say how good I make you feel.” His thumb presses into your hard bud, making you squeal.

“I love it! I love your fingers inside me!”

“Yeah?” A harsh breath falls from his lips, his heated eyes boring into you. “You like this?” His fingers pick up pace, moving so swiftly inside your walls, that the coil in your belly is about to snap any moment. You climb and climb, body taut and awaiting the sweet orgasm you can taste until…

You wake up in a cold sweat.

Disoriented, you look around and find yourself in your bed, still dressed in your work clothes.

Fuck, you came home and slept right away only to see that man haunt your dreams too.

You swallow, hands clutching the material of your bedsheet when you realise you are drenched through your underwear.

Fuck, Jeon Wonwoo. Why can’t you just leave me alone?

—

You are back at Jeon Industries for a meeting with the chairman.

The entire meeting room is crowded with the members of the legal team, all gathered to be briefed about the upcoming joint venture between Jeon Industries and a foreign company so that the legal documents can be prepared.

The people are in especially high spirits today because Jeonghan has joined the team. A member of the legal team recently quit and Mr. Pi had Jeonghan take his place immediately, saying that he is the perfect fit.

He controls the attention of the room as everyone gathers around him to hear about his adventures overseas with rapt fascination. You watch from your seat with amusement, occasionally taking sips of your coffee and listening to his story.

You did not have a good sleep last night and the previous two nights, for obvious reasons. Meeting Wonwoo randomly on the street while returning home from having drinks to end the week was not on your bingo card. What bothers you is how much that small meeting has affected you. Why are you still sitting here, thinking about him? Was obsessing over him the entire weekend not enough?

Ugh.

You drag your palm across your face out of frustration when the door to the room opens and the chatter dies down, followed by respectful greetings.

Chairman Jeon enters, followed by his secretary, nodding and murmuring a greeting. As you all take your seats— Jeonghan next to you, the door opens again and this time, Wonwoo saunters in.

A sudden jolt of anxiety flashes from your head to toe as you feel your limbs grow heavy and unresponsive. Only your eyes move, following his every movement with trepidation.

The chairman appears surprised upon his son’s arrival and you notice the apprehension in his gaze too. “I did not know you were coming.” He says curtly.

The atmosphere is charged, everyone in the room collectively holding their breath as if waiting for something to happen, except Jeonghan, of course, who looks between the father and son with inquisitiveness.

Wonwoo, after long moments of glaring at his father, casually pulls a chair and sits down on the other side of the table, a little to the right. “Go on, continue with your meeting. I’m here to merely observe.” He says, his eyes trained on you.

The chairman’s assistant starts the presentation but you fail to process much of what he is saying. All thanks to Wonwoo’s intense glare that is fixed on you, giving you goosebumps as little beads of perspiration form on your neck. Unable to resist yourself, you sneak glances at him and each time, it steals your breath away.

He does not blink. He does not move.

His eyes are filled with emotions, appearing sharper and deeper than usual which makes your breath stutter. You imagine this is how a wolf looks like to a deer about to become prey. You always thought Wonwoo resembles a wolf, in more ways than one.

Wait, what was this meeting about, again?

Fuck, you may pass out at this point.

Thankfully, Jeonghan breaks your train of thought by asking for your attention on a note he made on his laptop, pushing the screen of the device at such an angle that it interrupts your clear vision of Wonwoo. You gladly welcome the distraction, trying your very best to divert your attention to what your colleague is saying and pushing your chair back just a tad bit so that your peripheral view of Wonwoo is completely blocked.

The meeting ends sooner than expected, much to your relief.

While Chairman Jeon talks to Jeonghan, the other members clear out of the room, except Wonwoo, of course, who stands on the other side of the table, carefully looking at your direction. You try to ignore him to the best of your ability which is futile, honestly because there is no way your body can not feel his scalding gaze.

“It is a pleasure to have you with us.” The chairman says, shaking your colleague's hand. “I have heard great things about you from your boss.”

“Trust me, the honour is mine.” Jeoghan smiles, bright and friendly, the skin around his eyes crinkling. The morning light peers into the room from the floor-to-ceiling windows, reflecting beautifully on his blond hair and casting an almost angelic glow around him.

“We also have you on our team,” The chairman nods in your direction and you stand up straighter and push your glasses over the bridge of your nose. “She is a very diligent employee of mine. With you two on board, I’m sure I won’t have much to worry about.”

“Rest assured, sir,” Jeonghan promises.

As the chairman walks out of the room with his secretary on his tail, he stops on the way, saying something to Wonwoo that you cannot decipher. Like always, their conversation appears tense and judging from the expression on Wonwoo’s face you can tell it is nothing pleasant. Wonwoo dismissively walks past his father and towards where you and Jeonghan stand, earning a glare from the older man before he takes his leave.

As Wonwoo approaches nearer, you chew on your lower lip, rubbing your sweaty palms behind your back as you think of a way to excuse yourself.

Jeonghan initiates the conversation by extending his hand. “Mister Jeon Wonwoo, a pleasure to finally meet you. I am Yoon Jeonghan.”

Wonwoo looks at his hand and then his face before gazing at his hand again with a bored expression as he makes no move to remove his hand from his coat pocket. For one too many horrible seconds, you are terrified Wonwoo will not shake his hand as you watch with bated breath. Jeonghan keeps his arm extended, sporting a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes but instead indicates a hint of challenge.

You feel like you are about to pass out when finally Wonwoo shakes his hand, making you heave a small sigh of relief.

“If you are facing any trouble or concerns, feel free to contact me anytime,” Jeonghan says, fishing out his card from his wallet and handing it to Wonwoo. He holds it between his index finger and thumb and observes it for a while before meeting your colleague’s gaze. “Hm, interesting. Are you implying something, Mr Yoon?”

Oh boy, you don’t like this tone.

Before Jeonghan can reply, you insert yourself between the two men and look at him, “Mr Yoon, we are getting late for office. Let’s go.”

“You are too mean,” Wonwoo’s voice cuts through, his fox-like eyes trained on you with an intensity that makes every other thought in your brain slip away. “I understand that we agreed not to…see each other but you are straight up ignoring me. I am hurt.” His tone is light, almost playful, maybe even sarcastic, a complete juxtaposition to the fiery look in his eyes, his gaze ignited with accusation and some loathing.

You wrack your brain for an answer and end up futile, only getting lost in his hypnotic stare that somehow sucks you into a completely different dimension, transcending time and space where it is only you and him and the haunting memories.

A sudden, loud tune echoes through the room, jolting you back into your senses as you look behind to see Jeonghan fishing his phone out of his pocket.

“I have to take this. You go on without me.” The man explains, walking a few feet away from you to attend the call. You take that chance, slinging your bag over your shoulder as you brush past Wonwoo, not even glancing at him and making a beeline down the hallway.

You make it to the elevator, securing yourself inside it and as the doors are about to close, a foot sticks through them, making you shriek and step back.

The doors reopen and Wonwoo casually walks in with his hands in his pockets. As he presses the button and the doors close, you move as far away from him as possible, gathering yourself to a corner and looking down, trying to make yourself as small and invisible as possible.

A pathetic attempt, honestly.

As the elevator slowly starts descending from the twentieth floor, Wonwoo's deep voice cuts through the silence. He utters your name softly, wreaking havoc both in your mind and your body as you feel your knees tremble.

You are fucked.

Carefully, you look up to see Wonwoo standing in front of you, too close for your liking, his large build towering over your frame. He takes a step closer as you instinctively press yourself against the wall despite knowing there is no place left to go. His eyes, dark and breathtaking, pierce through you, appearing calm but turbulent at the same time.

You feel hot all over, your heart galloping stronger than a racehorse, your legs trembling, your fingertips itching to touch his face and trace the hard lines while also wanting to turn into the air and dissipate. “Wonwoo…” You whisper, a breath of a sound really, so quiet it is almost inaudible even to yourself.

The next moment, Wonwoo smashes his lips with yours. As if you calling his name was a trigger.

You are pressed flat against the elevator wall as Wonwoo’s entire body envelops yours in an addictive sense of comfort. Your tongue tangles with his, tasting the familiar and addictive taste of him after so long. His presence, his scent, his hold, his taste— everything is like a balm to your agonised soul as you feel yourself sinking deeper into his touch.

Until you remember everything that happened and the promise you made to yourself.

Until you realise…you are kissing him back.

Your hands suddenly move on their own accord and mustering all your strength, you push him hard on his chest, shoving him away from you as if you have been electrocuted. You pant, harsh, wide-eyed and open-mouthed, inhaling lungfuls of air and then, without thinking, you strike him across the face.

The slap rings through the silence which suddenly amplifies when you realise what just happened. Wonwoo slowly looks at you, his hand reaching up to touch his smarting cheek, an impassive look settling in his eyes. There is a hint of a smirk on his lips but it is unlike his usual one as he scoffs with a subtle tilt of his head. His eyes glimmer with betrayal but along with that, there is that unmissable spark of arrogance that matches the cocky twist of his lips— like he was amused by the kiss you two shared.

You almost want to smack him again but there is guilt blooming in your chest, freezing your hands.

You kissed him back, right? It was not entirely his fault.

Before you can say something— explain or apologize, the doors open and Wonwoo is gone like a swift spring breeze.

You are still huddled in a corner, your hand over your heart, trying to calm the erratic beats as unshed tears blur your vision.

—

1 WEEK LATER

You take the private elevator down with Jeonghan after finishing the early morning meeting at Jeon Industries' head office. The contract has been successfully prepared and reviewed by the chairman so a huge burden is off your shoulders, yet you are more unnerved than ever.

You heard a rumour going around the members of the legal team this morning.

Apparently, Wonwoo has joined the company, not as the president or vice president but as a junior employee of the marketing team. Word on the street says that the Chairman has ordered him to work there for three months to prove himself before he gets a chance to take over the company.

It sounds like a bunch of nonsense to you. The Wonwoo you know would never do that. He hated the idea of working at his father's company. He always treated it as only his father’s, not something he could inherit or lead in the future.

“Do you think the gossip is true?” You find yourself asking as you stand next to the elevator.

The blond haired man turns his head to look at you. “About the Chairman’s son working here?”

You nod your head, staring at the floor.

“Who knows,” he hums. “You are a lawyer. You should only believe in facts, you know.” He playfully shoves you with his shoulder making you smile softly.

Right.

The doors open and you walk out along with Jeonghan into the lobby. It is a little past nine and the floor is still crowded with people clocking in for work. As you navigate your way through the crowd, you are forced to stop in your tracks when you see someone approaching from the other side.

It is none other than Wonwoo.

He is dressed formally; in a baby blue shirt covered by a navy blue suit and pants, paired with a steel framed glasses that do nothing to diffuse the sharpness of his gaze. With his hair slightly shorter than before and falling over his forehead like a curtain, he appears more boyish and approachable, a stark contrast to the image of him you are used to.

And as you dreaded, he does not miss you amidst the crowd, his eyes locking with yours as you inhale sharply.

With a sickly sweet smile, he walks closer to where you stand and you instinctively try to hide yourself behind Jeonghan in a stupid attempt to avoid him.

“The gossip turned out to be true, huh?” Jeonghan begins the conversation as Wonwoo stands in front of the two of you.

Avoiding eye contact with Wonwoo, you observe his outfit, noticing the messenger bag slinging from his shoulder and the cardboard carrier holding four coffees in the other.

He is really playing his part, huh.

Wonwoo chuckles. “It seems so, Mr. Yoon.” Then, he tilts his head to look at you, “Guess we will be bumping into each other every now and then, Miss Lawful.”

Miss Lawful?

You look away, the vivid memories of the kiss you shared last week suddenly flooding your mind.

Sensing the tension, Jeonghan attempts to diffuse it and looking at you, he says. “Let’s get going, shall we? We have a meeting.”

“Hold it, blondie, I am not done talking to her.” Wonwoo snaps.

What?

A shiver runs down your spine as you gape at him, your jaw slack at his brazen attitude. It is like a glimpse into the old Wonwoo masked beneath this new attire.

He did not just call Jeonghan that.

You know your colleague and you are well aware that he isn’t someone to back down or take insults lightly, which means this could very well turn into a fight right here. So, with all your might, you grip his arm and look into his eyes, hoping he sees the helplessness in yours. “Mr. Yoon, could you please wait outside for me? Please.”

The man clearly wants to say more but instead, he just nods and pats your arm. Looking at Wonwoo, who is glaring at him, he flashes a charming smile which is undoubtedly fake before walking away.

A small sigh falls from your lips.

“What is wrong with you? What are you doing here like this? What do you want?” You hiss under your breath, trying to keep your face as neutral as possible.

Wonwoo smirks. “So many questions you have. I am afraid I won’t answer them.”

You grit your teeth. “That is fine. As long as you mind your own business, we are fine, Wonwoo. Besides, you never wanted to work here. I doubt you’ll be here for long.”

Wonwoo grins. “That is where you are wrong. People change, you know.”

“Right.”

“Like you did.” Wonwoo continues, leaning slightly closer to you. “Do you enjoy fucking him? Do you imagine me when you are with him?”

Absolutely stunned and slack-jawed, you blink at him, almost not believing he just said that.

You are hurt and angry at the same time. Conflicted about what to do with the emotions rushing through you, you look up at the high ceilings and take a deep breath, tightly gripping the handle of your bag as you try to summon some strength. “Mr. Jeon Wonwoo,” you start, “We are in a professional setting. Do not cross your lines.”

The man scoffs with a roll of his eyes.

You bite your lip, hoping the pain will be a strong enough distraction. “I was going to apologize for slapping you the other day but if you keep behaving like this—”

“What will you do?” He sneers, cutting you off. “Sue me? I don’t need your apologies, ___.”

Your name on his tongue is like a forbidden word, sending shivers down your spine. It is unfair how good, how sinful it sounds and you hate how it stops your entire world, forcing you to focus only on him.

When was the last time he called you by your name?

Enough!

You sigh. “For the sake of old times, Wonwoo. Please, just stop. Let me move on.”

“Never.�� It is a promise. You see it in his eyes, the way they burn, leaving a mark deep in your soul, branding you for life. “I will never let you go. Remember that.”

He walks past you, his shoulders brushing with yours.

You are ruined.

series masterlist

A/N: so that was chapter 2! we now have jeonghan to make things interesting 👀 I'd love to hear your thoughts on toxic ex wonwoo and flirty colleague jeonghan! my asks are always open so drop by! i haven't started working on chapter 3 but hopefully it will be out within the first week of december. as always, like, reblog and leave a comment. toodles! <3 (it's my bday but this is my gift to y'all, i really hope you enjoyed tehee)

#seventeen imagines #seventeen smut #wonwoo smut #seventeen scenarios #svt imagines #seventeen angst #seventeen #wonwoo fanfic #wonwoo #wonwoo scenarios #jeon wonwoo #kpop imagines #svt fic #svt x reader #svt

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pinkthrone445 · 3 days ago

Note

Do you have ao3? Also can you continue my wife? 🥺 I almost cried but i dont know in which part. If it's because of the story or because it's unfinished or i got left hanging. But Great work though 👏

Hiii! I don't have ao3, my girlfriend explained to me what it was because I had no idea honestly, I was even researching a little of it, but I prefer more tumblr because I feel it more personal.

Thank you for the comment, I really love this kind of interaction 🥺✨

-My wife- Part 2

Part 1

Pairing: Agatha Harkness x Reader-Agatha Harkness x Rio

Gender:soft, hurt

Warnings: insults and mention of death. Spoilers from the series.

Summary: after loosing your wife, you beg the witch to take you to the road to find her. But with no hope of finding her, you want to come back home.

You sighed looking at the notebook in your hands, since you had been sent to do a report on the hex when it started expanding and you got trapped inside, that was going to be your great opportunity to do your great report and go famous on the news side, but since Wanda retired from the city and released everyone from her control, you no longer had your main source or your main character and it was more difficult to make the story happen.

Frustrated by not knowing how to follow your report, you put your notebook in your bag and continued with your grocery shopping

-"Hello... Did you find everything you needed?" - a kind lady asked you from the cash register while you put your items on the band. You looked up and she smiled, she had a delicate but mischievous smile and her light eyes sparked with the stores lights. You squinted your eyes to read her name tag since you were not using your glasses. "Agnnes" a sweet name

-"Y-yes" - for some reason your voice trembled-"Thank you... Can you add some gum please?" - You didn't knew why but you made your voice sweeter than how you usually talked and she nodded.

When you finished paying, you went to where you were staying to eat the junk food and the chips you bought and try to keep writing your notes, but not matter how many times you checked your purse or the bags, you couldn't find your notebook with all your important notes.

Before the tears of desesperation could fill your eyes, you started to retake your previous steps hoping to find it somewhere, but when you got to the store, the doors were already closed.

Defeated, you came back home, praying to God that your notebook would be there tomorrow.

The next day you went back to the store before they could open the doors to the people, your heart racing with nerves, yesterday's frustration still lingering on your body. Wanda was gone and if you lost that book all your first handed Intel would be gone too.

Your leg bounced on the concrete looking at the doors and your reflection on it. Agnes, the cashier from the day before stood beside you looking at the close doors

-"What are we looking for?" - she asked leaning closer to you and you turned to look at her

-"Agnes..."-her name sounded so sweet on your lips-"I lost something yesterday and I think is here... I hope is here" - Your voice sounded like a plea to the gods

-"What did you loose?" - she asked with worry on her eyes

-"A black notebook with some silly drawings on the cover... It has my notes for work and I had some important Intel on it and I need it"-You really sounded desperate

-"Intel on what?" - she asked curious

-"On some local news... You know, the kidnapping of the whole town and all... You don't remember if yesterday someone brought you a lost notebook?" - You looked into her eyes and she held her bag tighter

-"I shouldn't let people from the outside come in before we open, but follow me, let's check the lost and found" - she took your hand and pulled you to the side of the store. Her fingers where holding you tight and that made you smile a little, her hands were soft and they had the perfect size to hold yours.

She opened the side door and pulled you inside with her, looking for the office without letting you go.

When you finally got there, she pulled a box from the closet and put it on top of a desk, letting you search for the notebook without any luck.

She stared at your face, looking how your eyes got watery when you searched the box for the second time hoping that it would appear

-"Hey..."-she took your hand again stopping your search-"Let's check the store together..."-she whispered and you nodded. Even at the risk of losing her job if someone looked at the cameras and saw that she had let someone from outside the company in before they even opened, she helped you look for the notebook all over the store.

-"I think I got it!!"-she yelled and you ran towards her, when you saw her holding your notebook proudly on her hands, you let out a loud yelling of happiness and hugged her tightly

-"Oh my god! You are a life saver Agnes!" - You couldn't stop holding her and she laughed

-"How do you know my name? I've never told you... And I don't know yours either now that I think about it..."-she whispered and you let her go laughing a little embarrassed when she handle you the notebook

-"I saw it yesterday on your name tag... I'm (Y/N) by the way... Thank you so much for this..."-you looked at the book in your hand and she smiled

-"Lovely name..." - she whispered looking at your smile and you blushed a little under her intense gaze

-"Do you want want to go for a coffee? It's on me..."-you boldly offered and she smiled sadly

-"I have to work..."-she answered and you felt a little disappointed without knowing why

-"Rigth, of course, I'm sorry" - You tried to quickly excuse yourself

-"But my shift finish at 6... Maybe we can go for dinner?" - she asked and your smile grew

-"I would love that" - You wrote your number on a piece of paper from your notebook and gave it to her-"See you soon, thank you again!" - You smiled and let her go on with her day.

That first dinner was surprisingly good, the conversation seemed to have no end and she picked an excellent spot that you haven't seen before in that small town. She was sarcastic and funny, she knew how to flirt and she was charming and gorgeous and you couldn't get enough of her.

So after that nigth, after a couple days, you came back to her store to buy something only to have an excuse to see her again and talk to her. And then you repeatedly did the same until you started dating.

After a year together you got married and moved to Agnes' house, and a year after that, you started the process to have a baby together.

At some point along the way, you didn't know exactly when, you realized that she was a witch. If you connected the dots that she lived almost next door to where the scarlet witch was but still didn't remember her, or that some of her books at home were in Latin and talked about spells, or that she herself did a "joke" spell before you got pregnant and it worked... It seemed very obvious what she was...But she seemed like a nice witch.

You as a reporter got interested in her and started to study all the books that she had and all the story behind her, you found out that she was Agatha Harkness a powerful old witch, but for you she was your sweet and perfect Aggy.

When she started to get lost in her own mind, you used all the things you had learned to break her spell, and when your Aggy was lost behind the powerful Agatha Harkness, you used the song of the road that she used to sing to your belly, to try to bring her back again.

But now you were stuck on the stupid road with no hopes of bringing her back and no idea how to get back home.

You took your notebook with spells out of your pocket and you saw how it was filled with memories, notes, phrases and information all involving Agatha... All the things you investigated for her and now she couldn't even remember you or cared about you being pregnant or about what you have done for her. Rage and sadness filled your body and you throw the book away, seeing how it fell outside of the road and the dirt consumed it. You signed and sat on the dirt, desperate tears filled your eyes and and you hug your legs

-"I want to get out..."-you whispered between sobs

-On the other side of the road-

-"Hughhh, stop it!" - Agatha yelled grabbing her head, she didn't knew how, but every time you thought about something or remembered anything, she could feel it on her head too and that was really anoying to her, her mind was usually so calm and yours was so loud.

-"Agatha... Let's go bact to her, I think we need her, we've been walking for hours and we have no test ahead, clearly the road wants her with us..."-Lilia said worried about you being alone

-"The road is bullshit..."-she murmured between her teeth-"Let's sleep a little, we can keep going in a few hours" - she said firmly and nobody dared to say anything else about it because they were scared of making her more angry.

While everyone slept, Agatha thouth about you, specially about the baby, she didn't knew if you were telling the truth but she was intrigued about it, if she started a family with you, you must be really important to her, important enough to move on after all this time.

A glimpse of something shiny on the middle of the road cough her eyes, she stood up and grabbed a dusty notebook, your notebook. She recognized it immediately because you had it all the time in your hands. When she open it, the first thing she saw was a lyrics of a song, her original song that she used to sing with Nicky. The only other person that knew that song was her and Rio, but apparently she sang that song to you at some point and you save it on your notes.

She also saw full paragraphs about her, a drawing of her pin, notes about enchantments, a list of songs and baby names... Baby names, she remembered picking baby names with you a few days ago when the pregnancy test came out positive, she remembered you on the bathroom of the house, crying and hugging her.

She kept reading the book, it was like a diary about your and her life together, every important thing was inside it, even a few pictures, including ones of the wedding you had. You seemed so happy with her, nobody has never smiled so much because of her, and in all the pictures she was smiling even bigger looking at you. Her heart started clenching more each time she read a new page, she could feel your love in your notes, until she reached one in particular

"Even if you don't recognize me anymore and you don't remember the love you had for me, the love I have will cover for the both of us..."

She remember when you told her that when she tried to kick you out of the house and that made a clic on her head, Agatha remembered, finally she remembered everything.

How you met, that spark, your first time together, when you got married, when you decided to have the baby and how you took care of her when she started to loose it...

She remember how you stayed by her side always. Even when she no longer recognized you, and unless you followed the silly illusion her head was living in, she wasn't able to see or hear you either, you stayed. Even though she no longer knew who you were, you made a vow with her and wanted to take care of her while she was "sick", so you found a way to help her eat or shower. You pretended to be a waitress and tell her she was on a restaurant so she would eat her food and pretend to be a masseur on a spa so she would shower. Agatha remember that, remembered your care and your worry even when she treated you badly, she remembered your love for her...she remembered all that and fell for you again, she finally remembered her love for you.

-"Fuck!" - she closed the book feeling like an asshole

-"They are coming!" - Lilia woke up scared, telling the others that the Salem seven where close. Agatha grabbed her coat

-"Let's go, we need to find her before they can hurt her" - she ordered and the others followed her.

-On your side of the road-

After a few minutes of crying you also fell asleep and when you woke up, you were no longer on the road, you were on your confy bed, hugged by the covers. You sighed in relief and snuggled more into the comfort of the mattress thinking that all that had hapend was just a bad dream

-"Are you planning on staying on that bed all day?" - a deep voice took you out of your peaceful place and you sat on the bed scared to see Rio sitting at the edge of it. If you were still on a dream, she was a completely nightmare following you everywhere

-"How did I got here? What are you doing here? What do you want? If you want Agatha go ahead, I don't care anymore"-saying those words made your heart hurt, but you were tired of trying to get love from the witch with no results at all

-"She hates me, she doesn't want to be with me or see me... Remember that conversation around the fire? she is my scar... I don't know if you know this but we had a son together many many years ago... But he was sick and it was my fault, I tried to give them more time together and she tried to keep him away from me, but eventually I had to do my job and he had to come with me... Agatha never forgave me for it and I didn't forgave myself either..."-she talked with her serious face as always and you couldn't avoid the feeling that you were in danger with her close

-"If you want me to feel sorry for you, telling me that you had to kill your son, it's not helping..."-you whispered

-"I took you out of the road..."-she confessed and surprised you-"You wanted to get out and the Salem seven where very close to you while you slept so I took you out... Because Agatha wouldn't forget me ever if I had to take another one of her children away... Or her wife..."-the word wife was painful to her, you were having the life that they could never had, but she would do anything to see Agatha happy

-"That's... Thank you..."-you didn't knew what to said, you figured that she was death itself when she told you that she was "THE" green witch, but she was bending the rules of life for Agatha

-"Don't... Just take care of her okay?... And close that fucking door to the "road", like now"-she order and you stood from the bed

-"How do you want me to do that? I have no powers..."-you asked confused

-"You created it, you can close it... Or he can, you just have to let his powers control you again" - she told you pointing to your almost invisible belly. The baby was made from Agatha's spell, it made sense that you had power while he was inside you. When you turned to look at her, she was gone already.

Still confused, you ran to the basement and grabbed a piece of chalk and a few candles, remembering the spells that you had studied, you started to repeat the Latin words over and over until you saw the door desapear. Tired and a little confused of what you were capable of, you sat at the floor trying to catch your breath, hoping that Agatha and the others would find a way out.

Meanwhile inside the road, Agatha and the others were running looking for you and screaming your name when she noticed how the sky of the road started to shrink and how the trees beside them began to desapear, little by little everything started to fade around them

-"Fuck! Off the road! Let's go to the mud people, let it swallow you" - Lilia yelled, she saw this happening before and she knew what they had to do even if she didn't knew why. Although they were not quite sure if Lilia was in her right mind on that moment, they decided to listen as it seemed to be the only possible option. They all waded into the mud and fell under the road right next to an exit, using it to escape safely just in time before the place collapsed behind them

-"Well... That happened..."-the protection witch said breathing heavily

-"Its this another test?" - The potion witch asked

-"I think we are truly out..."-Lilia said.

Apparently they had come out in some underground construction and Agatha didn't waste a second in running out looking for a way out to see if she could find you

-"What about the end of the road?!" - they asked running behind her

-"I don't care about that, I need to find my wife!" - The purple witch screamed and when she finally got outside and saw that they weren't so far away from her house, she breathe out in relief. Immediately she went to the house, and when she was about to open the backyard door, the color left her skin when the door opened alone and she saw death itself leaving the house, Agatha couldn't avoid imagining the worse, that she was there to claim your body because you couldn't get out of the road in time

-"Please no..."-The witch begged her ex lover, but the green witch just walked away without saying anything else. Agatha opened the door with shaky hands and the others followed her closely

-"Aggy! Lilia! You are all okay!" - Your voice pierced their ears as your body crushed against them hugging them all taking them by surprise

-"I thought I lost you" - Agatha's voice was broken, vulnerable as she hugged you alone, closer to her-"I thought I had lost you after being an asshole to you, I... I'm sorry... I remember you, all you did for me, I remember how much we love each other, how much I love you" - she whispered pressing her forehead against yours and letting one of her hands rest against your belly. You smiled feeling safe and happy again. But your happiness ended quickly when you saw how the sky turned gray

-"Oh no... They got out too" - Lilia said watching how the Salem seven where walking down the street

-"Look guys, this is my fight, you don't need to be here... " - Agatha said but got interrupted

-"This is not the time to be good Agatha after being a bitch all this time..."-Jennifer said

-"We will protect you... After all that's what convens are for" - Alice said looking at you and then at Agatha- "I will blast you... Just don't take it all..."-she said and the purple witch nodded...

-9 months later-

-"He is gorgeous..."-Lilia said holding your baby on her arms for the first time. The little baby held her fingers in his little hand watching all the women around hin

-"He is, but now it's time for Aunty Aliceee to hold himmm" - The protection witch said excited in a pitchy voice while you watched them from your hospital bed

-"No! I was the second one to hold David, come on!" - Jennifer started fighting with the other witches making you laugh. You named your baby in honor of your neighbor that you lost on the road.

-"Love come here..."-you whispered to Agatha who was looking outside from the window. She gave a last look and closed the blinds smiling at you-"Are you okay?" - You asked and she nodded, happy to see that death was nowhere to be seen meaning that you and the baby where healthy and safe

-"Never better, I got everything that I need rigth here" - she kissed your forehead and hugged you protectively whispering sweet things on your hear.

#agatha harkness smut #agatha harkness x reader #agathaharknessedit #agatha all along #agatha harkness #agathario #agatha spoilers #pinkthrone445 #agatha harkness fanfic

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midnightspasms · 2 days ago

Text

Pairing: Professor!Geto x reader

Synopsis: Geto likes your type. The kind of girl who'd never risk her future by engaging in any sort of inappropriate rendezvous with her nasty professor, him. So when you apply to become his teaching assistant, he can't let the opportunity go.

Content warnings: Swearing, male masturbation, lewd/perverse behaviour, age gap, teacher x student relationship, spit sharing if you squint, Geto is a creep and a pervert!

Suguru wouldn't exactly consider himself a moral person. Sure, he didn't steal or kill, but that was the bare minimum. He wouldn't ever fail a student purely because he didn't like their face, but maybe he'd put much of the topics they struggled in in the test. So sure he wasn't exactly Jack the Ripper, but he wasn't that much of a good person.

The first day you walked into his class, he could tell that there was something in his chest for you. It wasn't serious, wasn't plentiful. Truly, if you dropped the class, he'd probably end up forgetting you entirely.

But you didn't, and the more he saw you, well...

He likes the kind of girl you are; the pretty, wealthy heiress with gold on her wrists and diamonds on her ears. You're the girl with a meticulously crafted reputation. The model student with big brains and a nice ass but doesn't show off the latter. The one that's gonna graduate Summa Cum Laude and pretend like that's what landed her summer internship and not daddy's connections.

Oh, he likes your type. The kind of girl who'd never risk her future by engaging in any sort of inappropriate rendezvous with her nasty professor, him.

When you apply to be his TA, he's pleased. He picks you without hesitation, throwing the rest of the applications in the bin.

When you step into his office with your not-too-tight top and not-too-short skirt that does nothing to hide that ass, he grins at you lazily, pleasantly, as you sit before his desk and he begins giving you the rundown of your work as his TA.

"You can begin with grading those papers," he says afterwards, voice smooth like velvet, deep like a 15-foot well as he gestures to the pile of test scripts on his desk.

You look over to the pile of test scripts at the edge of his desk. "Sure," you hum as you stand and pick up the stack.

You look up at him, Professor Geto, "Is there a marking guide I could use?" You ask him slowly as you stand before his desk.

Out of all your professors, Geto was probably the one that intimidated you the most. And not in a scary way, it was the way he was; the languid yet confident way he carried himself that made him seem untouchable, made him seem so far away from the other academic staff.

You became his TA because of his connections in the world of academia. Otherwise, he unsettled you.

Geto cocks his head to the side, arms crossing over his chest, as he regards you with a languorous blink. He's amused, though for what reason, you don't know.

He lets out a small huff, a sort of exhale through his nose as he reaches into his desk drawer and pulls out a slender booklet. It's a copy of the marking guide; crisp and new. He hands it to you, eyes never once leaving your face.

"You're a smart girl," he says lowly, voice honeyed and smooth.

You take it from him with your free hand, "Thank you."

You turn around and wake over to the smaller desk next to his, putting the pile of scripts down on the wood. "Do I have a time constraint, sir?"

Geto sits back in his own chair, the leather making a quiet creaking noise as he folds one leg over the other, ankle over knee. He leans his elbow against the chair handle, his jaw propped on his knuckles.

"No, not exactly," he replies with a shrug. "Do it in your own pace."

You hum as you take a seat, your lips pursed. "Alright." You say as you pick up the first script.

You sit with your ankles crossed, the marking guide to your right as you begin grading the scripts. It's the scripts of freshman students, and it's obvious in the way the answers are structured.

You furrow my brows as you lean closer, trying to grade it the way your professor does, strict but not harsh, and with comments on how to improve.

All the while, Geto watches you. There's something almost voyeuristic in the way he does so - as if he were a photographer taking a candid picture of a woman without her knowledge. His eyes slowly drift over your form, the way the sunlight shines on your hair, the way you push a stray strand away from your face, the way your skirt tightens over your thighs...

It's strange. He doesn't even really like you, but there's something about you that pulls him towards you like a moth to a flame.

And you can't deny that the atmosphere is calming. The silence in the air and the air conditioning has your focused, and you finish the scripts in a little over an hour, silent as you put the last paper on top of the pile. "I'm done, sir." You call out to him as you finish, turning to look at him.

When you turn to look at him, he lifts an eyebrow, and his mouth slowly quirks up. "All thirty test scripts in an hour?" he says disbelievingly, but the impressed tone in his voice betrays his words. "I knew you were smart, but God damn."

You purse your lips as he speaks. "Would you like to go over them?" You ask slowly, eyeing the scripts. Now that he's expressed such surprise in the time you'd used, you can't help but doubt your work.

He lets out a low chuckle as he uncrosses his legs and stands up from his chair, rolling his shoulders back as the muscles in his back flex. He's a tall man with a wide chest, a lean swimmer's physique, all lean muscle and languid grace.

He walks over to your desk, and looks down at the pile of testscripts before he picks one of them up, thumbing through it.

You sit forward on your chair, a leg crossed over the other as you eye him tensely. Your elbows on the desk, fingers holding your pen to your mouth as you slowly, absently chew on the cap at the end of it.

Geto's gaze is how it always is, meticulous and calculated, as he scans through. The way he flips through papers, the way he stands, the subtle yet immense precision and grace in his posture as he examines your work only makes you more on edge.

While you sit there, tense and with a pen in your mouth, Geto stands tall and relaxed beside you. He reads through some of the answers for a minute, before he hums and nods to himself.

Then, slowly, he sets the paper down and looks down at you, and his gaze drifts down to your mouth, where your pen is in between your teeth.

He reaches out, and without saying a word, he gently pulls the pen from your mouth with his fingers.

Your lips partly just slightly as he pulls the pen from them, and you say nothing about it.

Geto holds the pen in his hand, idly spins it through his fingers with a practiced dexterity. His gaze drifts to your mouth, now open slightly, before it slowly lifts to your eyes.

Then, he lets out a huffed laugh, and looks away.

"Your grading is good," he says slowly, a hint of amused surprise in his voice as he glances at you from the corner of his eye. "You picked all the correct answers, and you gave just enough critique. Good girl."

The praise feels inappropriate, but then again, everything about Geto does.

"Thank you, sir." You murmur as your gaze drifts down to the pen in his hand. Embarrassingly, you can see the shine of your saliva on it, and a weird feeling spurs in your belly at the thought of your professor holding that pen. "I tried to emulate your grading."

As you mention emulating his grading, he hums, a languid sound in the back of his throat as he glances back at you. He doesn't smile, not really, but the amused look in his eyes only deepens.

"You did a good job of it," he says lowly. "You've a knack for this."

You can't help but smile. It's a slow, little one, but there's a tiny hint of pride in your eyes. "Thank you. Honestly... I didn't think I'd do this cause of scheduling difficulties." You murmur. You already have a lot on your plate. Truly, you only applied to be his TA so you could get recommended for Master's programs.

His eyes remain on you, taking in the small, slow smile that curves your lips. He's never really seen you smile in class, and the way your small mouth curves up on the edges makes you look so different.

Your phone buzzes then. You look down at it and Geto looks down at you.

"I have a meeting now, sir." You say as you stand, relieved to finally be done after grading those scripts.

"Sure," he says, voice deceptively light as he lets the word roll off his tongue. "Have fun, darling."

You offer a noncommittal hum as you grab your bag, hanging it over your shoulder as you turn to leave.

"Good night, sir." You tell him slowly as you bow once before making your way out of the room.

Geto's eyes remain on you as you walk out the door, watching the way your hips sway.

Once the door closes after you, he stands in place for a moment, clenching and unclenching his jaw. Then, he sits back down in his chair with a huff, picking up your pen again, tracing his thumb over the cap.

Even as he sits alone in his classroom, Geto thinks about you.

That small, barely-there pout you had on your face as you left, the way you walked away from him with your hips and ass swaying, the way you sat before him and focused on your grading for an hour.

He brings the pen to his mouth, and before he can even fully register what he's doing, he sticks the tip of the pen into his mouth, tasting the drying remnants of your saliva on the cap.

He's not quite sure what he's doing, but once he tastes the residue of you on the tip of the pen, a single thought runs through his head.

What would you taste like?

He pulls the pen out of his mouth with a quiet pop as his thoughts wander, a sly, serpentine smile on his lips.

He looks down at the pen, tracing the writing on the body idly with his eyes, before he lets out a soft hum.

Oh, he's going to have fun with this...

He slowly pushes back from his desk, the chair letting out a creaking noise. He stands up from his chair and walks over to the door, quietly opening it, peeking his head out and looking at the quiet, empty hallway.

He can't see anyone. It's completely deserted, not a single person in sight.

Geto steps back into his office with a satisfied hum and locks the door with a click. The silence in the room is deafening. No one's there to interrupt him. He walks back to his desm with no apprehension.

Geto leans back against his chair, palms planted on the wood of his desk as he stares down at the pen he still holds in one hand. He holds it up in front of his face, and he slowly runs his tongue over the plastic.

Your saliva tastes slightly sweet, with a hint of bitterness. Intoxicating. Just like you...

Geto lets out a quiet exhale as he imagines the taste of you in his mouth. He's never tasted you - of course he hasn't - but the thought of that saliva being on his tongue and not on some inanimate pen is enough to make him shiver.

He looks down at the pen again, at the saliva shine, the way it gleams in the light...

He pops the cap into his mouth and swirls it around with his tongue. A quiet grunt escapes his chest as he tastes you on the plastic, and he slowly brings a hand down to his trousers...

He knows he really shouldn't be doing this, not in his office, not after hours, not as your professor. But something about you turns him on, badly. Maybe it's the way you bite your lower lip when you're focused, maybe it's the cute way you chew on the pen caps, maybe it's the way you look him in the eyes with that tiny, little pout...

The thought of you looking up at him, down on your knees, mouth open in front of him...

He lets out a hiss, leaning back against the edge of the desk as he palms himself through his pants. He closes his eyes and lets out a low moan as he pictures it, one hand cupping his bulge through his trousers and the other keeping him steady on the desk as his mind conjures up images he's never had before.

You're not just a pretty girl, no, you're a smart, pretty girl. The kind that gets straight As and knows how to use your words.

You could probably talk him into almost anything, if you tried. That thought makes his knees almost buckle.He knows that you're too good, too pure to be as dirty as him, too innocent to be as perverted as he is right now, but still, he can't get the images out of his head.

Imagining you in front of him, on your knees, wearing that pretty green skirt of yours, looking up at him with that little pout on your face as he tells you to do whatever he says...

"Darling." he murmurs your name, voice husky and rough as he unbuckles his belt one-handedly and spits out the cap of then pen unto his free palm before dropping it on his desk. The metal of the buckle clinking against itself. He unzips his trousers quickly, hands almost shaking in his eagerness.

He knows this is wrong, that it's wrong to think about you like this, but God, he can't stop. He lets out a quiet moan as his hand wraps around his already hard, the head already slightly sticky with pre-cum. He strokes himself once, twice.

He's used to imagining nameless, faceless girls, the kind they use in porn, the kind that don't make the right noises, but instead of that, instead of them... he's imagining you now.

You're not even here right now, but he can almost hear you. The way your voice gets all soft when you're focused, the cute little noises you make when you're concentrating on your work.

He can practically see it now. You, on your knees, looking up at him between his legs, watching him with that cute little pout on your face as he tells you to do whatever he says...

He can't hold back from letting out a moan as the thoughts continue to spiral. He imagines you looking up at him through your eyelashes, pink, little tongue sticking out of your mouth, waiting for him to tell you what to do.

"Darling," he says breathlessly, eyes still closed, "Open your mouth for me."

He tightens his grip around his cock, stroking just a tad faster as the scene changes, imagining you in nothing, looking up at him with your eyes wide and eager on your knees.

And, because he knows you're good, his brain even supplies him with the image of you begging him to do it. "Fuck-" He chokes out a groan, squeezing at the base of his cock.

It's all slimy and moist at this point, his purple head still bubbling out pre as he masturbates to the thought of you, hips bucking into his hand like a schoolboy virgin.

"Shit baby," he says breathlessly, eyes squeezed shut, free hand tightly gripping the arm of the chair till his knuckles are white. He's going to cum soon and he knows, the room filled with the nasty schlack schlack of his hand furiously stroking his dick. "Open your mouth for me, baby."

God, he can't get enough of the thought. You, with that cute little pout, opening your mouth, wanting to do as he says, wanting to be good and swallow all the cum he's goibg to release.

"Oh Godddd," his head falls back, neck against the headrest as his hips buck up into his palm and his body goes tight like a bowstring.

His dick spurts it out when Getou finally cums, ropes of sticky, white arousal landing on his stomach and his slacks.

He's breathing heavily when he finally comes down, limp dick still in his grip as his eyes catch the pen cap on his desk. Your pen cap.

"Fuck- I have to fuck her."

#jjk #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #geto suguru #geto x reader #jjk geto #jjk suguru #getou suguru x reader #suguru geto smut #suguru geto x reader #suguru smut #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru smut #geto x you

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theereina · 8 hours ago

Text

Bad News Pt. 3

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Plus Size Fem Black!OC "Bella"

Wordcount: +1.7K

Warnings: MDNI (18+) mature content, such as cursing, no smut, heavily dialogue-centered, mental health mentioned (anxiety), *emotional distress*, angst, heartbreak, health conditions mentioned (c*ncer, PCOS, endometriosis), infertility, verbal and physical ab*se mentioned

A/N: I'm open to critiques. I am a little 🤏🏽 sensitive about my writing. Please, don't be too harsh.🥺 Feel free to bring my attention to any typos. Divider by @firefly-graphics. Also, this work is not to be plagiarized or reposted (on any site other than here on Tumblr). I do NOT give consent for any form of republishing or rewriting.

Bad News Pt. 1=> 😢

Bad News Pt. 2=> 😢

Masterlist: 🔥🔥🔥

Over A Month After Mike's Funeral

“He said he'd leave the door unlocked, so I can just go in and get the rest of my stuff,” I said getting out of the car. “My legs hurt so damn bad,” Shante said bending over. “Old ass!” I laughed as I walked to the door.

As I lifted my hand to turn the doorknob, all of the memories from the night before I left came flooding back. “You good?” Shante asked as she walked up behind me. “Yeah, flashbacks whoopin’ my ass. I can't believe that… Fuck!” I said sobbing. Shante’s arms wrapped around me. “Oh, Bella. You'll be okay, mama. You know me and Mama gotchu,” she said swaying from side to side.

This was the first time since the day Terry called that I had realized how much life had changed. The surgery was “successful”. Testing showed no more immediate signs of cancer. The possibility of me getting pregnant was slim to none and would take a miracle, but I was trying to be as optimistic as possible about the situation.

“I'm fine. I promise,” I said patting her hands. She slowly released me from her embrace. “You’re strong, ya’ know. You always have been,” she said playfully bumping my shoulder. “Thank you for that. Honestly, I wish I didn't have to be. What's the reward in it?” I said reaching for the doorknob again.

Upon entering the house, I noticed that everything seemed to be untouched. It was as if Terry had barely stayed here since then. “Has he even been here?” Shante asked spinning around and taking in the scenery. She seemed to be just as confused as me. “I don't know. I didn't really ask. We only text about me coming to get my stuff,” I said walking further into the house.

The longer I stood there; the more I felt an overwhelming sense of dread, worry, and something I couldn't explain. It seemed off. It was almost as if this wasn't anyone's home anymore.

“Let's just go upstairs,” I said shuddering. As I turned to go up the stairs, I heard the sound of a vehicle pulling into the driveway. “I thought his bitch ass wasn't coming while you were here,” Shante said barreling towards the door. She grabbed the doorknob and swung it open. “That's what he…,” I started to say.

To my surprise, it wasn't Terry pulling in at all. I saw his mother climbing out of her small sedan. “Shit! It's his mama. What the hell?” I said palming my face. I hadn't prepared myself to face any of them— not Terry or his parents.

I could see her smile before she even reached the door. “Hi, honey. May I come in?” she asked looking at me. Her hands gripped her purse strap so tight that her knuckles turned white. “Yes… yes, ma'am. How are you?” I asked turning to meet her in the living room. “Good, how about you? I haven't spoken to ya’ since ya’ left,” she said walking up to me. She looked at Shante and mouthed a silent hello.

I didn't know what to say to her. Did I tell her the truth? Did I lie about what happened? Was I supposed to protect Terry? Should I even fucking care?

“I've been fine,” I said trying to stifle my emotions. I knew that my face and body language always gave me away. I wore my emotions outwardly like a second skin or a mask. “Don't lie to me, baby?” she said grabbing my hands. I looked down at the floor. “Bella,… maybe you should just… y’know,” Shante mumbled while shrugging her shoulders. “I've asked that boy a million times. He's as stubborn as a mule. He didn't hurt you did he?” she asked stepping closer. “No, but… Yeah, but not physically. Then again, every word he said felt like a punch to the gut. He…,” I said as the tears began to fall.

Before I knew it, I had told his mother everything— what happened that night, the next day, and what happened to me afterward. I even told her about the surgery and diagnoses.

“I'll be the first to admit that we missed the mark with Terry when it comes to emotional intelligence. His father was so set on raising a man that he just couldn't let the boy feel things. Y’know… he couldn't cry, be upset, or… Or, else. Yes, Terry is a grown-ass man, but… I don't know,” Terry's mother grew silent. It was like she had become lost in her thoughts.

“All I wanted was an apology. If he would've just… just heard me out and listened. But, I guess I wasn't worth it. I get it. Mike was in trouble, but I felt like I was fighting for my life… by my… by my damn self. He wasn’t talkin’ to me. He wasn't communicating with me at all. He was just telling me what he was gonna do, and that was it. I… I… I tried my hardest to let it go, but he had already said too much. There was no turning back after what he said. Whether he was angry, overwhelmed, or not; he hurt me!” I said leaning on my hands on the kitchen counter.

“I know. I'm sorry, honey. That's why I'm gone tell you this, and leave ya’ ‘lone. Okay? Listen to me, and listen to me good,” she said holding my face in her hands. “That's my son sure enough, but that's his father's creation. Don't make the same mistake I did. Run. Don't wait on him. He won't change. They'll tell you they will a million times and never will. They just keep feedin’ ya’ lies to tire ya’ out ‘til ya’ settle. And once you do that… It only gets worse. So, go up those stairs and get your stuff. When ya’ do, leave and don't eva look back. Ya’ hear me?” she said pulling me into a bear hug.

“And I know you said he isn't hitting you now, but if he's anything like his daddy, it's only a matter of time. Baby, don't even think ‘bout it… Lord… Just don't go back. Promise me that,” she said rocking me back and forth.

4 hours later

“That's it. We're done! Let's go. I'm tired, I'm hungry, and I ain't in the mood. Girl, this was a helluva day,” Shante said walking out the door. I made sure that I had all of my stuff before leaving. I looked down at the set of keys in my hand. His mother was right; this was it. I wasn't turning back. I fumbled with the key ring and removed Terry's house key. I placed it on the kitchen counter. There was no reason to have it because I was NEVER using it again. I turned and began walking out the door locking it from the inside. Closing that door felt like ending an entire chapter of my life.

I walked to the passenger side of the car. Opening the door, I got in and slumped into the seat. “Alright. The hotel is only a thirty-minute drive. Let's go!” Shante said starting the car. Even reversing out of the driveway felt odd. It was as if every move from then on was solidifying just how done I was. Shante drove out of the neighborhood and turned onto the main street. The two-lane boulevard went straight through the center of the small town. I leaned back in the seat and closed my eyes. I was exhausted as hell.

After a few minutes, I felt the car come to a stop. I opened my eyes to see where we were— the town center. It was the only stoplight in the city limits. “The fact that there is only one stoplight is insane,” Shante laughed. “Aww, don't be mean. That's not nice,” I said giggling into my hand.

As we were chatting, the red light changed to green. Shante eased into the intersection. I looked out the window, watching the scenery. It was heartbreaking, to say the least. This was supposed to be the start of my perfect life— small town, family home, a husband, some kids, all of it. It was like I lost it all in a night. My thoughts were drifting to a poisonous place, and I knew if I stayed there too long I wouldn't be able to climb out of that hole as easily. I let my eyes scan the small crowds outside the window. This was a normal Thursday night for everyone else but me.

We were nearing the edge of town and slowly approaching the city limits. All we had to do was get to the highway. This was the first time this drive felt so daunting. It was as if I was being forced to reconcile with every decision I made before today— the good and the bad.

Out the window, I could see the small bar that Terry frequented. It wasn't busy but small groups were still lingering out front. As we grew closer, I noticed Terry's truck parallel-parked out front. Of course, he was there. Where else would he be? This was where he went to run. I leaned my head against the glass. The side of my face flustered from the temperature of the cool glass. As we started to pass the back of Terry's truck, I could see his figure in front of the truck. He was leaning with his back against the hood. I sank back into the seat. I honestly didn't want to see him. I waited until we were completely past the bar before sitting up again. I didn't look back. I kept my eyes glued on the passenger side floorboards. What was the point? I wiped a single tear that was making its way down my face. I breathed out a deep sigh of relief.

What would life have to offer now? Genuine happiness. Healthy and reciprocated love. Self-discovery. Less bad news. Yeah, that's what I pray for— for God to finally give me enough space to breathe and grow.

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idkyetxoxo · 2 days ago

Text

Seven | Enchanted | Aemond Targaryen

Word count - 3420

Warnings - None

<- prev || masterlist || next ->

"We hear there is to be a festival tonight," Viserys said, breaking the silence over dinner. The question, though innocuous enough, hung heavily in the air, sending a ripple through the room.

All eyes turned toward me and Nymor as if waiting for some grand revelation.

I glanced at my brother, our shared look speaking volumes more than words could manage—neither of us remotely entertained by the idea.

"Yes, there is," my father replied with the smoothness of a seasoned courtier, though even he couldn't mask the tension tugging at the edges of his forced smile.

"I am sure my children will be more than happy to explain it to you," he added, his gaze shifting expectantly in our direction as if we were about to jump in and rescue him from the conversation.

A smirk tugged at my lips as I pushed my plate away, raising a brow at his assumption. "Not really," I said dryly, shrugging with a careless air that only heightened the discomfort.

Nymor, ever my accomplice, snorted beside me, his failed attempt to stifle laughter only adding fuel to the simmering fire.

Across the table, Aegon barely managed to muffle his own laugh, though Alicent's sharp glare could have silenced even the boldest spirit.

She didn't appreciate my defiance, her lips pursed with disapproval as she shot me a look that demanded obedience I had no intention of giving.

But it was Helaena who, as always, cut through the tension with her innocent enthusiasm.

"A festival sounds lovely! What is it called?" she asked, leaning forward with bright-eyed curiosity that seemed almost out of place in the undercurrent of the conversation.

Alicent, ever the vigilant mother, reached out, pulling her back gently as if to shield her from engaging too much with the likes of us.

I took that moment, savouring it, and met Alicent's gaze with a sly glint in my eye.

"It's called Lustre," I said, my voice dripping with honeyed sweetness. "It takes place on the longest night of the year. The theme, fittingly, is light overcoming the darkness."

I let the words hang in the air, knowing full well how my not-so-subtle barb would needle her.

Viserys, blissfully oblivious to the subtle war waging across the table, clapped his hands together with genuine enthusiasm. "That sounds most exciting!"

My father, ever the diplomat, seized the moment to maintain appearances.

"My children would be delighted to bring the princes and princess along to celebrate tonight," he declared, casting a hopeful glance between Nymor and me as if that suggestion alone could smooth over all the prickling tension.

But Nymor, always the sharp-tongued one, wasn't about to let it slide so easily. He leaned back in his chair, raising an eyebrow, his voice laced with sarcasm. "Everyone knows that's a lie."

Aegon, unable to hold it in any longer, practically choked on his drink, his laughter barely muffled as it slipped out.

Even Helaena looked confused, her brow furrowed as she tried to make sense of the veiled remarks.

Alicent, on the other hand, was less amused. She gripped her goblet tightly, her knuckles white, her irritation palpable.

I couldn't resist.

"Nymor's right," I said, my tone light but my words deliberate. "We'll be there, but 'happy to bring them along' might be pushing it."

I shot a glance at Aegon, who was still struggling to keep his composure. "Besides, I'm not sure they'd survive a real festival with us."

Nymor leaned in with a mischievous glint in his eye. "Oh, I'm sure they'd be fine... if they don't mind a little chaos."

Viserys chuckled, the sound hearty but disconnected from the simmering battle beneath the surface.

Meanwhile, Alicent's patience, already stretched thin, snapped. Her voice, sharp as a blade, cut through the air.

"Chaos?" she repeated, her eyes narrowing dangerously. "I'm sure the royal family would prefer some decorum."

Nymor, unfazed as always, scoffed lightly. "Decorum? At Lustre?" His tone was incredulous. "Good luck finding any of that."

Alicent's glare could have turned stone to dust, but I didn't back down. If anything, her growing frustration only fueled my amusement.

"Perhaps the queen would prefer something a little less... lively?" I suggested, my smirk widening as I toyed with the thin line of respectability.

Aegon, ever the instigator, seized the moment. "Come now, Mother. A bit of fun never hurt anyone," he said, his eyes gleaming with mischief as he exchanged a glance with Nymor and me. "Besides, it's not every day we get invited to something this exciting."

"Exciting is one word for it," Nymor chimed in, his playful gaze settling on me. "Survival is another."

Viserys, ever the peacekeeper, laughed again, waving his hand dismissively. "Well, it sounds like quite the celebration. I'm sure it will be a night to remember."

I exchanged one final look with Nymor, both of us barely able to contain our amusement. The unspoken camaraderie between us was clear—this was far from over.

My father, determined as ever to hold the illusion of diplomacy, nodded curtly, his face the picture of forced calm, though even he had to know that the night ahead was bound to be anything but ordinary.

─── ✦⋅♡⋅✦ ───

Later, in the quiet intimacy of my chambers, the energy felt lighter, more relaxed, as the festival preparations took hold. The soft glow of candlelight bathed the room in a warm, flickering radiance, making the gold accents in the tapestries shimmer.

I moved about with ease, sliding delicate jewels into my hair as the weight of the evening lifted from my shoulders. Helaena sat nearby, her wide eyes following my every move, curiosity and a hint of longing radiating from her as I readied myself for the night ahead.

"What shall I wear?" she asked softly, her voice laced with eagerness.

She sounded like a little girl again, yearning to be part of something bigger, something dazzling. Her gaze was fixed on me, watching intently as I slipped the last jewel into place.

I smiled, catching her reflection in the mirror. "You can wear one of my dresses," I suggested, turning to her as I untied the ribbon of my robe, letting it fall gracefully from my shoulders.

The silvery gown I reached for shimmered like moonlight itself, its fabric cool and flowing as it slid over my skin.

Helaena bit her lip, hesitation flickering in her eyes. "I do not think my mother will like that," she whispered, her voice a fragile thread of doubt.

I let out a soft, knowing laugh, the sound rich with amusement. Alicent's constant disapproval of me was practically a given at this point.

"She doesn't have to know," I said with a playful wink, adjusting the dress as it draped over my figure.

The star sequins sewn into the sheer fabric caught the candlelight, sending a cascade of shimmering reflections across the room with each movement.

Helaena's breath caught as she gazed at me, her eyes wide with awe. "You look absolutely stunning," she breathed, her voice full of wonder.

I twirled lightly, the hem of my gown brushing against the floor like liquid stardust, every step making it gleam as though it were woven from the very essence of the night sky.

"Like the moon itself," she added, her smile growing, a hint of something brighter—perhaps envy or admiration—flickering across her features.

I laughed softly, genuinely touched. "Thank you, Helaena," I said, my voice warmer now. There was something so pure about her, so untouched by the darker undercurrents of the court.

I turned and held up a golden gown from my wardrobe, its rich fabric shimmering with regal elegance.

"Here," I said, offering it to her. "Wear this. It suits you, and no one needs to know."

My eyes twinkled with mischief as I handed her the gown, a silent promise that we were in this together, no matter what Alicent might think.

Helaena hesitated, her gaze darting to the door as if expecting her mother to barge in at any moment. But after a brief pause, she smiled—small, tentative, but real—and took the dress from my hands.

The silk whispered as it slid over her frame, the golden fabric wrapping her in warmth and splendour.

I stepped back, watching as she adjusted the folds of the gown. Her cheeks flushed with a soft blush as she smoothed the delicate material, uncertainty giving way to a shy pride.

"So pretty," I remarked with a grin, my voice teasing but full of affection.

Helaena blushed deeper, turning slightly in the mirror, admiring herself. "Like the sun itself," I added, echoing her earlier compliment.

The words made her giggle, the last of her tension melting away as she twirled in the golden gown, her smile now bright and carefree.

I stepped closer, looping my arm through hers, our bond in that moment unspoken but strong. "Come," I urged softly, giving her arm a light squeeze. "The boys will be waiting for us."

As we made our way down the palace corridors, Alaric, my ever-loyal guard, followed at a discreet distance. His dark eyes lingered on me for a moment longer than necessary, a teasing glimmer playing in their depths.

I felt his gaze like a whisper against my skin, warm and slightly provocative.

"You'll outshine the festival itself tonight," he said, his voice low and smooth, laced with a subtle edge of flirtation that made my heart skip for just a moment.

His smile was the kind that held promises of mischief, and I couldn't help but return it with a sly grin of my own.

"Careful," I teased lightly, casting him a glance over my shoulder. "You're supposed to guard me, not flatter me."

He chuckled softly, his gaze never leaving mine. "I can do both," he replied smoothly, his tone as easy as the confidence in his stance.

Helaena caught the playful exchange and shot me a look—half amused, half curious.

She had seen the way Alaric's gaze lingered, but I brushed it off with a light laugh, not wanting to delve into whatever thoughts might be swirling in her head.

We continued through the halls, winding our way through, careful to avoid any run-ins with Alicent. The last thing either of us needed was a confrontation with the queen tonight.

We slipped into the waiting carriage, the night wrapping around us like a velvet cloak, its darkness offering the perfect cover as we left the palace behind.

Relief washed over me as I settled onto the plush seat, grateful we had avoided detection for Helaena's sake.

The festival awaited us, and with it, a night of freedom—of light and shadow, chaos and revelry.

Beside me, Nymor shifted closer, the heat of his presence a comforting contrast to the cool air outside. He leaned in, his lips brushing softly against my cheek in a tender gesture.

"So beautiful," he whispered, his voice barely above a murmur, but it carried the weight of sincerity.

I smiled, allowing myself a brief moment to bask in the warmth of his gaze, the gentle affection that always lingered just beneath his teasing exterior. But the moment didn't last long.

Across from us, Aegon's reaction stole my attention.

His eyes widened as Helaena, shy but radiant, climbed into the carriage beside him. The transformation was undeniable.

Gone was the quiet, unassuming girl—now, she was gilded in gold, her dress catching the dim light, making her look ethereal, otherworldly even. Aegon, for once, was at a loss for words.

"Gods," he muttered under his breath, his usual smirk replaced by something far more genuine—astonishment.

Helaena, still unsure of her newfound allure, glanced down nervously at the golden folds of her dress, her fingers twitching as she adjusted the fabric. She looked up, eyes wide with hope.

"Do you like it?" Her voice was small, hesitant, as though she feared the answer.

Aegon's gaze never wavered from her, his usual flippancy replaced by something softer, almost reverent. "Yes," he said simply, but the single word hung in the air, heavy with admiration.

Her face lit up, a smile blooming slowly across her lips as she turned to me, eyes shining with gratitude.

No words were needed between us; her expression said everything—a silent thank you, not just for the dress, but for the confidence it gave her.

My gaze drifted then, as though pulled by a magnetic force, to Aemond.

He had been watching me from the moment I stepped into the carriage. His singular eye, sharp and focused, followed my every move with an intensity that sent a shiver down my spine.

His stare was unwavering, piercing through the darkness that separated us, his face betraying little, yet his attention spoke volumes.

I felt the familiar flutter in my chest—unbidden, but undeniable.

He had a way of looking at me that always made me feel as though I were the only one in the room, as though the entire world had fallen away, leaving just the two of us.

But I refused to be swept away by the moment. Keeping my composure, I offered him a small, controlled smile, a silent acknowledgement of his gaze.

His lips curled ever so slightly in response, his usually cool demeanour softening, if only for a fleeting moment.

There was something almost vulnerable in his expression, a crack in the icy exterior he always wore so well.

Still, I couldn't linger in that feeling. Not tonight. I turned my attention back to Nymor, seeking the comfort of his easy banter, the lightness that always seemed to come naturally between us.

"We're starting with drinks," I announced, my voice bright with excitement as I leaned into him slightly. "And then the dancing, of course."

Nymor's lips quirked into a knowing smirk, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "Ah, the dancing. I hope you're ready for the chaos."

I laughed, the sound bubbling up from deep within me, infectious and free. "Always."

The carriage rolled forward, the rhythmic clatter of wheels over cobblestones a steady reminder that we were moving closer to the heart of the night's festivities.

The unspoken connections between us all—tangled, complex, and ever-shifting—only added to the tension.

Aegon sat back, his gaze still flitting over Helaena in disbelief, while she, now more at ease, giggled softly to herself.

Aemond remained quiet, his eye still fixed on me, though now he wore a faint, almost imperceptible smile.

And Nymor, ever the rogue, was already plotting our inevitable mischief for the night.

Outside, the darkened streets blurred past us, the faint glow of festival lights growing brighter with every passing moment. Soon, the quiet hum of the city would give way to the sounds of revelry—the laughter, the music, the chaos of Lustre.

Tonight would be a night to remember, for better or for worse.

The carriage slowed to a stop just a street away from the festival, its wheels creaking to a halt as if acknowledging the excitement that pulsed through the air.

This was our tradition—Nymor and I slipping away before the crowds could spot us, savouring those few moments of quiet before diving headfirst into the chaos.

As the door swung open, Nymor stepped out first, turning back to offer me his hand, his eyes gleaming with mischief.

I accepted with a grin, stepping down into the cool night air.

Together, we stood for a moment, taking in the sight of the festival before us. Though it happened every year, it never failed to enchant.

The streets, strung with golden lights, flickered like stars caught in mid-air, while colourful banners swayed in the breeze.

Music spilt into every corner, the sound of laughter and song mingling in a harmonious hum that filled the night.

"It's like magic," I whispered, though the words barely did it justice.

Nymor nodded, his gaze warm as he took in the scene. "It's more beautiful every year," he said, but his eyes flicked back to me, his meaning clear.

I smirked, but before I could respond, the rest of the Targaryens joined us. As Aegon stepped out, he froze, his eyes wide with awe at the vibrant display before him.

"Gods," he muttered, momentarily dumbfounded. Even Helaena, who had been so shy earlier, seemed to bloom in the festive atmosphere.

My attention shifted to Aemond. He hadn't said a word since we arrived, but his eye hadn't left me.

There was something unreadable in his stare—an intensity that made my heart skip a beat, though I wouldn't let him see that.

Instead, I met his gaze head-on, letting a slow, teasing smile spread across my lips. I knew how to play this game, and I played it well.

"Hurry up!" I called back, breaking the spell as I grabbed Nymor's hand and pulled him toward the square, eager to lose ourselves in the sea of revelry.

My laughter echoed through the air as we darted past dancers, vendors, and brightly coloured stalls, my pulse quickening with the thrill of it all.

We skidded to a stop in front of a drinks stall, the smell of spiced fruit and honey filling the air.

"Five, please!" I called to the vendor, flashing him a cheeky grin.

Nymor fished out a few coins, handing them over as the vendor poured five drinks into small cups. The liquid shimmered in the lantern light, pink and inviting.

Aegon eyed his cup suspiciously, lifting it to his nose with a raised eyebrow. "Is this wine?" he asked, dubious.

I laughed, taking a long sip from my own cup before answering. "No, but it's better." The sweetness of the drink coated my tongue, refreshing and potent.

"Look, we'll drink first if you're scared." I winked, and without waiting, I downed the rest of mine in one gulp, the heat of the alcohol spreading through me like fire.

Nymor followed suit, grinning as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "See? No tricks."

Aemond still hesitated, his eye narrowing slightly as he glanced between the cup and me. I rolled my eyes, stepping closer to him until we were nearly nose to nose.

"You really don't trust me?" I teased, my voice low and playful as I lifted his cup to his lips. "Drink."

For a second, Aemond's expression didn't change, but the challenge in my eyes must have gotten to him, because he relented, taking a slow sip.

His face softened, a reluctant smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "It's... good."

"Told you," I smirked, satisfied as I turned to Helaena, who was already sipping hers, a look of pure delight on her face.

"Come!" I said impulsively, grabbing her arm and pulling her toward the square, where the crowd was already lost in the rhythm of the music. "Let's dance!"

Helaena laughed, her hesitation melting away as she twirled with me beneath the glow of lanterns.

The music was infectious, the beat thrumming in my veins as I let go of everything—my worries, the royal eyes watching me, the tension that sometimes clung to the edges of my life.

All that mattered now was the thrill of the festival, the joy bubbling up from within me as I laughed and spun with reckless abandon.

From the sidelines, Aegon chuckled, his gaze flicking to Nymor. "Is she always like this during festivals?"

Nymor grinned, leaning back against a post as he watched me with obvious amusement. "Lustre brings out her best. Enjoy it while it lasts—she's probably being nicer to you than she ever will."

Aegon barked a laugh, but his attention quickly wandered to a group of dancers nearby, while Nymor was soon swept into a conversation with a woman who had approached him.

Aemond, though, didn't move. His eye followed my every step, every laugh as if he couldn't tear himself away.

I could feel him watching me, even as I twirled and dipped with Helaena, my joy infectious.

Aegon, noticing Aemond's stare, smirked as he clapped him on the back. "Throw a festival every now and then, brother, and you might keep your bride this happy."

His tone was teasing, but Aemond wasn't amused. His gaze remained fixed on me, the intensity in his expression unmistakable.

I could feel the weight of it, even from across the square. Our eyes met, and for a heartbeat, everything else faded away.

The crowd, the music, the lights—all of it melted into the background. It was just us.

I gave him a small, knowing smile, one that promised much and revealed little, and he returned it, the tension in his face softening ever so slightly.

But the moment passed, and I was pulled back into the dance, the swirl of the festival sweeping me away.

Yet even as I laughed and spun beneath the glow of the festival lights, I could feel Aemond's gaze lingering, a silent promise that this night—this feeling—was only the beginning.

A/n - My very small attempt at tryna give Helaena some much needed peace in some form x

Enchanted tag list - @mamawiggers1980 @shilphy87 @esposadomd @targaryendestiel @deepeststarlightmoon

@thebirdandthebee @queen-of-elves @believeinthefireflies95

#house of the dragon #house targaryen #hotd #hotd x reader #house of the dragon x reader #hotd one shot #hotd season 2 #house of the dragon fanfiction #hotd fanfic #team green #aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #hotd aemond #aemond one eye #prince aemond #aemond fanfiction #prince aemond targaryen #house of the dragon aemond

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spookwriter-xo · 2 days ago

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Coppélia

Chapter 2 - The Right Hand

Chapter Summary - Y/N and Seonghwa meet up for brunch, where she begins to question Seonghwas character and work.

Series Masterlist

The café Seonghwa requested for us to meet was on the richer side of town. He'd instructed I sit in a booth in the far right corner, out of sight, explaining that was his usually spot. I sat patiently, clutching my purse tightly as it lay in my lap, watching the door intently silently praying he'd pay after I briefly scanned over the beverage prices.

I perked up when I saw the familiar styled back hair and handsome face. He smiled when he saw me, striding across the café like he owned the place before sliding into the seat across from me.

"You really came." He chuckles, fixing his jacket.

"Of course I did. You thought I wouldn't?" I ask, tilting my head. He looked so shy all of a sudden, completely different from the blushing confidence from the night before.

"I never really have much luck." He explains with a soft laugh, his hand sliding the beverage menu closer. "What are you having?" He asks.

"Uhm... The cheapest drink?" I say awkwardly, offering him a strained smile.

"I'll pay, it's no trouble." Oh I knew it was no trouble. I looked up his name after I returned to my apartment last night and was amazed just by how much money he had inherited, let alone earns a year now. Old money rich families really are something.

My silence caught on, making him clear his throat to catch my attention once again. "Doll?" He asks, his eyebrow quirked upwards.

"Sorry... I'll just have a hot chocolate, if that's okay?" I ask, shifting slightly in my seat to hide the shiver that ran up my spine at the nickname.

"Not a coffee drinker?" He asks with an amused smile.

"I prefer sweet things." I say, nodding as a self confirmation. Why were first dates so awkward?

"Don't worry, I know someone who is the same." He chuckles, standing and walking towards the counter to order. He wore a suit, a different one from last night hopefully, that was perfectly tailored to his body. I stared for a moment, admiring his figured before he turned around to look at me briefly. I snapped my head forward, almost giving myself whiplash as a blush rose from my cheeks.

Soon he returns with the drinks, placing my hot chocolate in front of me before taking his seat once again. He sips his drink, eyes on me as he does before he speaks, placing the mug down on a coaster.

"How long have you done ballet?" He asks, his honey voice returning.

"Since I was little. I joined the society when I was 17, have been apart of it ever since." I say.

"It's impressive that you've kept up with the art for so long." He says, leaning back in his seat, eyes still on me. "My parents used to take me to watch ballet when I was young and I've loved it ever since." He says.

"Enough to come to every show?" I asks, with a head tilt. He chuckles loudly at that, reaching for his mug again to take another sip.

"I may love the art, however it was the lead ballerina who caught my eye this time." He answers, sending me a wink as he placed the mug back down. I bite back a snort, biting my bottom lip at his wink.

"So, what do you do for work?" I ask. I already knew what he did, but figured it would be weird if I didn't ask, right?

"I work for ATZ Corp, the right hand I suppose you should call it." He says. "I help Hongjoong out with a lot of business, and running the company."

"Is it difficult to run such a successful company?" I ask, genuinely curious.

"For a while it was, however over the years we've learnt to trust each other with certain... aspects." He coughs as he finishes his sentence, I furrow my eyebrows.

"Aspects?" I laugh.

"Yes, aspects." He says with a smile, I could see in his eyes that he was holding something back. "It's such a large company, and successful at that. When Hongjoong took over just before his 21st birthday, he was lost. Not to mention still grieving over the loss of his parents." Seonghwa lets out a soft sigh. "I'm glad he asked for help."

Even though we had only technically met last night, I admired how quickly he was to open up. He may seem intimidating to others, he seemed genuine, like he really did care about things both big and small. I smile softly at him as he talks, hanging off of every word like he was telling me his life story.

"Do your family come to watch you perform?" He asks.

"I'm not on speaking terms with them." I say, my stomach dropping at the mention of them. His eyebrows furrow and a slight pout forms on his lips.

"I'm sorry... Can I ask why?" He asks, he leans forward, his forearms on the table now.

"They were never really supportive of my career choices." I explain. "I was supposed to be the heir, however they dropped that idea and me the second I accepted the Society's invitation."

Seonghwa looked angry, in a calm way. I felt my throat go dry as he watches me for a moment. "Really?" He asks, his voice rough. I lean back slightly, swallowing as I nod.

"How stupid of them." He says simply, leaning back to mirror my movements. I eye him carefully as he seems to think for a moment. How did the mood shift so suddenly? One second I felt like I was flying and now I feel like he may go into a frenzy.

"Seonghwa?" I call out softly, he squeezes his eyes shut for a moment, snapping out of his daze.

"I'm so sorry." He says, rubbing his temple for a moment. I notice the bandage poking out from beneath his sleeve, but don't point it out.

"You're fine." I say, offering him a smile. "I'm guessing you're tired?" I ask.

"Yea, a very late night last night." He chuckles. "I had to follow up on some business partners, and of course they're in different time zones so I had to wait up for them." He runs a hand through his hair before placing them both back into his lap.

"Doll." He calls out, his voice suddenly firm. I look up at him, eyes widening slightly as he stares back at me with hooded eyes. "I want to warn you. If you wish to continue seeing me there are... Expectations." He says.

"Expectations?" I question.

"Very specific ones." He says. "What I do can be dangerous, though I can't give you the details, I believe you wouldn't be one to run and snitch." He leans forward, his voice getting lower as he speaks to me.

"So you're trusting me that easily?" I ask softly, leaning forward, matching his movements like he had done with me. He notices this and smirks.

"Not trust, Doll. An invitation." He states. "I'll give you time to think about it." He says, moving back and pulling a folded up envelop from the inside of his jacket.

"Feel free to call if you have questions." Seonghwa states, standing up from his seat. He reaches for my hand, raising it to his lips and pressing a gentle kiss to my knuckles.

"I'll be seeing you very soon."

#kpop #ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez x reader #ateez smut #ateez fic #hongjoong #wooyoung #ateez ot8 #seonghwa #yunho #yeosang #san #mingi #jongho

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chimindity · 1 day ago

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Seasonal blues

summary | John b's daughter going through the seasonal blues. request by @/anon

pairing | John B & daughter!reader

warning | reader going through a depressive episode

A/N | john b icons from @marvelfanfics1 ; i apologize for the lack of fics these past few days 🫶🏻

‿︵‿︵ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ・❉・ ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ‿︵‿︵

you always hate when summer ends. the cold weather begins to creep in november, and you stay curled in your blanket, watching the drops of rain sliding on your windows. you get pulled out of your thoughts when you hear a knock on your door, followed by your name being called out -"sweetheart?" your dad waits before opening your door, revealing your sleepy, sad figure wrapped in a blanket.

you hum, not bothering to lift your head above the blanket, causing a sigh to escape his mouth. then he sits at the edge of your bed. -"you can't stay in bed all the time." you shrug your shoulder, turning to the other side to face away from your dad. -"what's going on? talk to dad." he lightly pats your blanket, waiting for any reaction.

you sniffle before slowly peeking your head above the blanket. -"i don't know, i just feel sad for no reason. the weather is shitty; it makes me so bored," you mumble, looking up at him. he purses his lips, somehow feeling empathy towards your feelings. -"honey, hey—it's okay to have those days. and even if the weather is not enjoyable, we can still have fun," he cheers you up, running his hand through your hair, hoping it would make you smile.

you rumble as you shrug your shoulders, not fully agreeing with his answer. your dad sighs at you, expecting to watch a smile creeping onto your face. you tilt your head in confusion when he pulls the blanket over. you didn't have time to complain about that before he quickly lays down on your bed. -"how about we just lay in bed and watch some movies?" he smiles at you not being able to hide that glint of a smile showing up on your face.

he reaches behind you to grab the remote tv off your nightstand. -"so, what does my girl want to watch?" he looks at you, ruffling your hair as he flicks through channels. you couldn't help but let out a giggle at your dad, knowing he doesn't like seeing you sad. -" i don't know, maybe a summer movie," you shrug your shoulders as you respond to him.

he pulls you closer to him by your shoulders. -"'next year, i promise you we will spend the whole summer at the beach." he gives you a light smile as he chooses one of your favorite series, H2O. You snuggle further into him and already get engrossed in the episode. -"thank you, dad," you mumble, wrapping your arms around his middle.

Taglist

@mirellef2001 ; @flora-eva ; @jjsfavgirl ; @nemesyaaa ; @mrvlxgrl ; @marvelfanfics1 ; @jjmaybankssurfergf ; @mylettterstoyou ; @sweetstars-posts ; @hallecarey1

#outer banks #john b obx #john b x daughter!reader #dad!johnb

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queenhunter102 · 17 hours ago

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Chapter 3 ~ Settling in

Welcome to Chapter 3, Hope you enjoy also, I have a feeling I should start telling you I have little something, something coming over the next month

You huff as you are dragged out of the med-bay by your arm, growls being the only sound that can be heard between the pair of you. It's not long before you pass by the landing site and into another building. This time, it has offices instead of med-bay suites. John hauls you into an office, closing the door behind you. He lets go then, each of his steps measured and precise as he walks to the desk, taking a seat, his breath sounding forced as he settles down in his big chair. He tilts his up, looking at you. "So, who are you?" he asks, his eyes finally taking you in, your kitted-out black gear that had a simple insignia on the front of your vest; he watched as you sucked air in through your teeth before slowly but steadily raising your eyes to meet his. "I'm Venom, Sir," you say, pulling yourself to stand at attention. Giving him a salute, John only squints his eyes. "I don't know anyone by that callsign," he says, his voice sharp and accusatory; you tilt your head from side to side. " You should have been informed of my arrival weeks ago, Sir," you say. Now, you really wish you had your bag filled with that important information you needed. John only pursed his lips as he leaned back in his chair and unbuttoned his shirt sleeves. "Right, and I'm Elizabeth the second", he says, his eyes feeling like sharp knives poking into each exposed, despite there being little skin to be seen. You lower your eyes, not wanting to piss him off further than you already seemingly had. John growled a little as he leaned his forearms on his desk. "If I were informed about you, where did you come from?" he said. " I'm from MI5, sir; Unit Chief Mark Levins requested my transfer," you say. John pursed his lips as if he were thinking as he pulled at a drawer, pulled out a small, thin file, and laid it out on the desk. John casually flipped it open. "Unfortunately, I don't have a picture or name for you," he said as he flipped the one or two pages on the file. "I also don't have much about you either," he said. You nodded. "I know…MI5 have classified my file," you said, knowing that was almost true. John sighs, resting his head on his hand as he watches your stance, posture, and expression.

There was a moment of silence between you before a loud knock broke the tension. You watched as John's eyes turned to the door. "Come in!" he shouted. You glanced over your shoulder, watching a tall man enter, his face covered by a mask. You squinted, looking at his mask, and realised it was a skull mask in his hands, holding onto a set of files.

The skull man briefly eyes you as he walks past, heading to John and the file out to him; you watch as John takes the file and opens it, his brows scrunched. "What have I told you boys about interrupting me?" he says, sighing. You watch John's face change from annoyance and confusion to Surprise and suspicion.

His eyes flick back to you before flicking back down the file. He stands from his desk, taking the file with him as he leaves, leaving you alone with the tall masked man; you look over to the man watching him watching you before you flicker your eyes down, unsure what to say or do.

"So you're the recruit?" he asked. Your eyes flicked up to the tall man, and you only nodded. The masked man tilted his head to the side. " I don't know what they taught you, but we use our words here and stand at full attention." His voice was gruff and attenuative. You snapped to full attention, your arms dropping to your side, legs pressed together. "Apologies, sir!"

The masked man only shakes his head as he watches you…seeming almost amused with how quickly you changed to suit his wants; you watch as John comes back muttering, "Bloody Laswell, Cannae, find one Kid" John huffs as he walks past you and straight to the masked man.

John hands him a file. You watch as the masked man reads the file, his brows raising. "You, sure this is right?" he asks. John only nods his head. "Seems so," he says, glancing at you over his shoulder. The masked man sighed, his shoulders slumping, as he closed the file, handing it back to John.

The masked man straightens his posture before he walks over to you, his hand outstretched. He pauses two feet from you as he pulls down his mask, showing off the rest of his face, his barely-there brown stubble that seems to match his dark brown eyes, which look so…broken and fractured.

You eye his hand, hesitating as you watch before slowly offering your hand. The masked man takes it with a little more force than needed. He gives you a smile that doesn't quite meet his eyes before saying, "Welcome to the 141. I'm your Luetenint Riley."

You gave a quick nod as you shook his hand. "Thank you, sir. It is a pleasure to be here," you said. John followed after him, offering his hand and snatching yours when offered; he gave you a tried smile as he shook your hand, clasping it in his other hand. " I just hope you aren't as bad as my boys," he said, sighing, as he let go of your hand. Waving his hand, indicating that you follow him, he says, "We should take you to get settled. " Luetenit Riley nods as he follows after you and John. "Yeah, we should call a meeting," he says, closing the door. John hums as he walks down the hall, only pausing to look back. "We should, but we'll leave it a few days," he says as he guides you down the hall.

TAGLIST: prettykinkysoul, ghosts-hoe, spicyspicyliving, dneicjefx, cryingpages, sakunawifey, cringeycookies, ttsbaby01, caius-red04

(If you want to be a part of my tag list, check HERE for specifics)

Here's the COD master list: Here

Our Omega (rewritten)

Lore page Summary: Here

Remember: leaving a like, re-blogging, and commenting helps in this world and encourages more.

See you around, my little loves.

Kissess.

Part 2 / Part 4

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captainsbestgal · 2 days ago

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"I know, when you put all the information together like that, it sounds horrific. But I swear to God, she's just a clumsy girl."

The first CPS agent sighs, "Ma'am. We're not stupid. We were specifically put on this case because the teacher noticed the absences were at every full moon."

You start to visibly panic. "R-really? Her clumsiness is that predictable?"

The second CPS agent gently places her hand on your forearm. "Ma'am, we just want to make sure that your daughter is safe during her 'clusminess' and you are able to manage her transition in and out of 'clumsiness'. Lord knows my parents were barely able to handle my 'clumsiness', and there were two of them. I don't know if either could have dealt with me during my 'clumsy' times alone."

You look wide eyes at them before starting to cry. "You're... you're not going to take her away from me for it?"

The first agent, now digging in her purse for tissues, "Oh honey. No. Only if she was in danger of herting herself or others. But seeing as she isn't... We just wanted to make sure everything was going ok. Like my partner said. Being the parent of someone like her is difficult. That's why we got into this, to help the parents and protect the children."

"Are... are you both?"

They both nod. "And you live normal lives?"

"For the most part. Here's a pamphlet on some community resources that can help your daughter. I've circled the closest physician that knows how yo handle her condition. They will be able to help with the pain during the transition, as well as the scarring. And there's a... apothecary downtown that has..... ok, they're a witch coven that has a nice brew to minimize the transition time. They got me down to a single night and no more nasty hangover the next day."

The second one points to a bullet point on the pamphlet "this is a local cafe run by the fae, and they host support groups for both parents and children. I highly suggest you go. You can't do this alone, and you'll find that there's more of us than you realize."

Your child is a werewolf. You're struggling to both keep their condition a secret and give them a normal life. Full moons are always a challenge. One day child protective services visit you on a report of your child's scars and monthly missed school days.

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cosmerelists · 2 hours ago

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Are Various Cosmere Characters a Cat Person or a Dog Person?

Sanderson was once asked whether Kelsier and/or Marsh would be a cat or a dog person, although not everyone was satisfied with his answer (@zephyscosmere). So, inspired by that post, I thought I'd deliver my own headcanons about whether various Cosmere characters would be a cat or a dog person if, you know, such animals existed in their part of the Cosmere.

(I should mention for full transparency that I am 100% a cat person. Will that affect my headcanons? Probably!)

1. Adolin: Dog Person

Not only is Adolin a golden retriever, but he would also have a golden retriever, and he would play approximately one thousand hours of frisbee with it per day.

2. Sadeas: Cat person

I simply cannot shake the image of Sadeas & Ialai plotting together...but also there is a big white fluffy Persian cat with them. If that's wrong then I don't want to be right.

3. Shallan: Cat Person

I'm torn on this, and I'll be interested to hear what you all think. But I feel like when Shallan was essentially on house arrest for most of her life, she had cats, and that they kept her company in her room and napped while she was drawing. And although cats therefore remind her a little bit of a bad time in her life, it wasn't the cat's fault, and she still likes them.

4. Hoid: Cat Person

Hoid is 150% a cat person. I can't even really explain this. I just feel it so strongly in my soul.

5. Vin: Dog Person

I mean, I kinda hate to say this, given that the only actual dog Vin ever bought she also killed immediately. But Vin is kind of canonically a dog person, given her relationship with TenSoon.

6. Hrathen: Cat Person

I'm realizing as I write this that I associate "plotter" with "cat person." But again, I can see Hrathen with a cat. I can see the cat sitting on his shoulder, looking somehow just as arrogant as Hrathen himself, and hissing at Sarene.

7. Kaladin: Dog Person

As much as Kaladin himself is a cat, he would nevertheless be a dog person, I feel. He'd be tromping through Hearthstone as a child with his loyal dog by his side, and as a Radiant he'd give his dog goggles when he needs to fly it around.

8. Gavilar: Dog Person

Gavilar only likes things that are very loyal to him.

9. Moash: Cat Person

Cats have definite boundaries, and if they don't like you, they let you know it. I feel like that would resonate with Moash.

10. Vivenna: Dog Person

This is just instinct, like my "Hoid is a cat person" headcanon. But I feel like Vivenna--and especially Azure--is a dog person.

11. Elend: Cat Person

I think Elend reads thick tomes with a cat on his lap. I also think Vin is cat-like, and that Elend likes her.

12. Vasher: Cat Person

I just think that since Vasher is a prickly misanthropist, that he would like to have another, smaller, fuzzier prickly misanthropist on his side.

13. Tress: Dog Person

[SPOILERS INCOMING!! WHOOP! WHOOP!] I think if your boyfriend has spent any time as a rat being terrorized by cats, you kinda have to be a dog person rather than a cat person.

14. Jasnah: Cat Person

Weirdly, the logic here is the same as it is for Moash. I think Jasnah would appreciate a cat's autonomy and unwillingness to pretend to like people.

15. Painter: Cat Person

He's an antisocial artist. I mean, that says "cat" right?

16. Lightsong: Cat Person

I've said in a previous list, if there were any justice in this world, Lightsong would have an incredibly spoiled Persian cat with him at all times.

17. Breeze: Neither

I don't think Breeze wants fur of any type to get on his clothes.

18. Allrianne: Dog Person

Specifically, one of those dogs you can carry around in your purse and which has a pink sparkly collar.

19. Steris: Cat Person

Cats have rules and strict schedules. Steris would appreciate that.

20. Wax: Both

In the Roughs, Wax had an immaculately fluffy cat who sat on his shoulder and kept primly grooming itself. In the city, Wax has a wonky-looking mutt who slobbers a lot. Wax loves them both.

#cosmere #cosmerelists #Adolin #Shallan #Kaladin #Steris #Wax #Allrianne #Breeze #Lightsong #Vasher #Vivenna #Jasnah #Hoid #Painter #Moash #Gavilar #Sadeas

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pygmi-cygni · 9 hours ago

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Product Maintenance

cw: non-sexual physical intimacy, massage, innuendo, fluff, nathan behavior, pining, way too long, kissing, gn reader

summary: Nathan needs a back massage and you are all too happy to help.

Nathan gets cranky when he's uncomfortable. Sick, injured, even stubbing his toe sends his grumpiness up to eleven. You know to back off on those days, sticking to your room and giving him ample space to lick his wounds in brooding privacy.

But, you can't help but feel a little sorry for him.

It's been a particularly stressful few weeks for Nathan. His newest algorithm application to BlueBook was patented on Thursday, and he'd been in back-to-back board meetings and feedback conferences since. AKA, his least favorite way to experience his least favorite kinds of people.

Being around him in this state was unbearable. He never spoke, but if he did it was cutting and cruel. It wasn't personal - just letting off steam, but you couldn't help but flinch when he turned his strung-out gaze on you.

He'd been spending long nights in his gym, the heavy thud thud thud-thud-thud of his fists against the sandbag a dull metronome to your restless sleep. He was in great shape, but you could tell something was bothering him.

You eyed him over the rim of your coffee mug as he hunched over his laptop on the sofa. His posture was...awful, to say the least. The bunched muscles in his back looked angry even from your position. Probably wasn't helping his tension headache, either.

Setting your mug down with a quiet clink, you padded over until your hand hovered over his shoulder.

"Nathan?"

He ignored you, taking a drink of his wine and tapping out another line of code. Then, swearing and deleting half the page.

A bad time, definitely. But you wanted to help.

"Nath-"

"Busy," he snapped, strong fingers flexing on the table. "Just forward it to my inbox."

You pursed your lips and waited for him to settle. The tense, ugly energy pouring out of him in droves was making your own mood sour. It was near eleven p.m, and he had a meeting at seven sharp the next morning. God forbid he stay up too late, or he'd be a nightmare tomorrow. Good luck, you mentally wished the future patrons.

When you didn't move, he sighed heavily and stood, folding his arms to look at you. Momentarily you balked. He was intimidating in the low light, brow dark and heavy.

"Well?"

"I..." you trailed off, reconsidering. Was this inappropriate? Until now, your relationship had been purely professional, but..well, you supposed-

His darkening mood forced you to persevere. The only thing worse than interrupting Nathan with a dumb idea was interrupting him for no good reason.

"I wanted to help," you blurted. "You look...uncomfortable."

His jaw ticked as he let out a slow, nasal exhale. "Uncomfortable."

"Your back. You're sitting funny. Like, twisted, and, um," you trailed off, wilting under his encompassing gaze. It felt like being a bug under a glass; watching helplessly as someone much bigger and stronger carefully pulled you apart like it was nothing. The gears in his head were turning and you wished to know how badly he wanted to punch you. Maybe you could defend yourself.

"This can't wait?" He asked bitterly, gaze flicking back to his blinking cursor.

"I mean- well, it's...it's late, and you have a meeting-"

"I don't need a nanny," he said condescendingly, downing the rest of his alcohol. "If it's past your bedtime, you can go night-night, but the big kids need a minute to-"

"Fuck you, Nathan, it'll only take a minute and you can go back to failing miserably at...that thing," his brows skyrocketed at your outburst, "and you're the one tantruming. Grown-up grape juice does not detract from your toddler-ness." Sniffing, you plucked the empty wineglass from his hand and set in on the table.

He looked a bit smaller, for a moment, before sliding his metal walls back in place.

"I can...help with the muscle aches," you said, softer this time. "Just a massage thing my mom used to do. Here, sit-"

You cleared a space on the crowded couch and tried not to look terrified of Nathan's casually intense scowl. Eyeing you irritably, he sat down and waited with his elbows on his knees. As gently and not-awkwardly as possible, you slid behind him and sandwiched him between your thighs. Realizing the impropriety, you slid up to your knees, cheeks flaming. Nathan was still stoic as a mountain.

"It might hurt a bit, but bear with me," you murmured, laying your hands on the base of his neck. His skin was warm and delectably smooth under your fingertips. You shivered and tried not to let your heart eyes explode.

Firmly, you dug your thumb into the knot at his nape. Nathan seized and groaned loudly, hand reaching back and squeeze your calf. Biting back a swear word, you waited for him to calm down before continuing to stroke his shoulders.

"Oh shit," he swore, jaw clenching against the intense relief.

The sheer mass of muscle on his back was amazing. you kneaded as gently as you could, but Nathan still panted heavily and groaned with every pull. Your forearms were burning from the effort.

"Here, I'll go easy," you said gently. You stopped kneading and just ran your palms over his broad back, smoothing away the knots and tension. Nathan had gone limp, leaning forward with a drunk expression on his face.

"Feels...fffuckin' great," he slurred, grunting when you rubbed a particularly sore spot. Preening, you shuffled off the couch and grabbed your coffee.

"Well, good luck on your-"

"Where the fuck are you going?" he snapped, blissful reverie broken.

Surprised, you paused. The air had shifted dizzingly fast. At first his armor was thick enough to repel gravity, and now he was fully disarmed, soft pink interior vulnerable for all to feel. Specifically, for you to feel.

"I...figured you'd wanna work," you said meekly. The few feet you suddenly created between you gave him time to don that armor again, scowling and turning sharply away.

A dismissive grunt, and you knew this meeting was over.

It eased your soul a bit when you saw his posture relax and he headed off to bed a few minutes later. At least it helped.

He got a bit greedy after that. Dragging you over when he had a moment of spare time, pawing for your hands to relieve the stress in his back.

After a few days, your biceps were stronger and he moved much easier. Limber as a rag, no longer hunched and straining. He liked them before bed, so he could nod off on the couch, soothed by your gentle breathing and warm hands on his skin.

The next time he had a stressful week, you did it without asking. Grabbed some oils, a hot towel, and smoothed away his irritation. On those days, Nathan demanded you stay until he fell asleep. Leave on the light.

Something about the dark, you figured. No matter, you'd stand guard. He slept sounder that way.

It had been a clusterfuck of a day. Your evaluations were scheduled all in the afternoon, leaving you rushing between video meetings and scrambling to pull up all the files in time. Nathan's insistence you help him in the lab was also nagging on your brain.

With your last meeting completed, you dropped your head on your desk and sighed. Sighing, you thought, was an underrated therapy. it felt good to just....whoosh it all out. Nathan chided you constantly for being 'childish'. He, clearly, had never experienced the relief of a Deep Sigh.

Rubbing your tired forehead, you trudged over to the lab to help the weirdo genius with his latest creation.

When he immediately launched into a detailed explanation of the fibrous wiring designed for the inner membranes of his androids, you vividly understood why socializing was low on his list of favorite activities.

"Hey."

His tone made you jolt, blinking away the brain fog. The bright fluorescents nearly blinded you into a migraine. Wincing, you tried to maintain eye contact.

"What's wrong with you? You're acting like a fuckin' weirdo," he asked, setting down his prototype. You waved him off. Don't piss him off, you've only been here thirty seconds.

"Nothing, just...tired," you said, restraining yourself from letting out a big sigh. He appraised you for a minute, then continued his rambling.

You did notice, though, that he lowered his voice and the lights dimmed to a comfortable level. He handed you...something, with the express purpose of don't fucking move unless I tell you, and then moved on to a separate project.

Your brain took the opportunity to zone out. He'd disappeared from your line of sight, and everything swam together in a hazy golden puree. Felt nice, to black out for a b-

"Ay!" Something dug into the middle of your bag, and you jolted, almost dropping his thing. Nathan griped and took the synthetic skeleton, steadying you with one hand and setting down the project with the other.

"Woah, hey, jesus," he breathed, "I...fuck, I was just helping your back. Take a breather. Goddamn you almost...fuck," he muttered excuses, dragging a hand through his beard.

Headache revamped, you groaned and massaged your temples. Would this day ever end?

Nathan's warmth came a little closer, and a big hand settled over one of yours. "Don't move," he murmured, "and don't freak out."

Your natural instinct, of course, was to do both of those things, but a gentle pressure over your sinuses made your thoughts zap into the void. He gently massaged your sinuses with his thumbs, coaxing the tension out of your forehead and melting the achiness away.

A weak groan fell from your lips. That felt so nice. Your posture swayed as he dragged his hands down, rubbing circles into your cheeks as his palms cradled your jaw. You were hung by his hands, dangling above an ocean of calm. The lab lights dimmed further, until it resembled dusk.

"Better?" At your nod, Nathan patted your face and reached for a sticky note. "Here. Do this. Get out of my lab."

You shuffled backwards, reeling from the backhanded chain of events.

Sleep, his scrawl instructed, and gimme a massage at 8.

That, you could do.

Nathan's weight dipped your mattress too soon. The cradle of sleep dropped you on your head, and you woke with a sigh. He sat, expectantly, as you put a towel to steam and grabbed some oil.

"Lay down," you mumbled, rubbing sleep crust from your eyes. He did so with a flourish, folding your pillow under his forearms and settled on his stomach. Nathan had stripped off his shirt already, tan skin flexing and glowing in the dim light of your bedroom.

You started at his shoulders. His joints popped quietly as you pulled and kneaded, a tiny groan of relief with every alignment. Nathan shuddered when you dragged a firm elbow down his spine. His muscles tensed and shivered. You grinned when he collapsed into a syrupy blob.

"Roll over," you instructed, retrieving the towel. He stretched languidly when you wrapped it around his neck and shoulders, moaning rather obscenely.

You avoided the obvious tent in his pants and ran your hand over his pecs. Natural reaction.

"Fuck, who taught you this," he said thickly. "A fuckin...witch or some shit?"

"My ex," you said off-handedly, digging your thumb into a particularly deep knot under his ribs. He yelped and twitched, gaze never leaving your face.

"How'd- shit- how'd he know?"

You shrugged, applying another palmful of oil to his skin. He looked unfairly appetizing like this, shining and perfect and very sculpted. Your cheeks heated and you prayed the low light covered your tracks.

Hey, he was the one with a hard on.

Nathan's heated gaze traced your strong arms as they kneaded into his thighs. His broken sounds were louder, by no accident. You tuned him out the best you could, mentally playing your favorite album.

"You're fucking unreal," he breathed after a tough knot subsided, "shouldn't...hnng easy, christ- shouldn't be just..." he gripped the mattress when you rolled out his calve, jaw clenched tight enough to shatter marble.

You raised an eyebrow and moved to the other leg. "Ticklish?"

"Hah no, just, sensitiiiiive," he gritted out, digging his heel into the comforter. You giggled to yourself and kept massaging the bottom of his feet, relishing in the theatrical expressions across his usually stoic face.

"You were saying something?"

"F...ffforget it," he groaned. He reached out and grabbed the plushness of your thigh to brace himself.

"Almost done," you soothed.

You gently removed the hot towel and caressed the dampness into his skin. His face was blissfully neutral. Your fingers traveled to massage behind his ear, earning a quiet keen of satisfaction.

It was a heavy burden, to be in charge of soothing his aches. Nathan had many chinks in his armor, some that dug harder than most. He did an admirable job of hiding them, but everybody broke down at some point. You felt proud that he trusted you enough to coax him into a softer set, made of sentimentality rather than hard aloofness.

His dark eyes searched your face while you put your things away. You sat by his head, cross-legged and avoiding him. The heat of his expression burned your back. Still, you refused to show your belly, resiliently maintaining your neutrality.

A warm grip on your thigh.

Slowly, you turned. Nathan was looking openly at you, so shockingly pure that for a moment, your breath caught. You swallowed.

"Can I-"

He surged upwards and caught your lips on his. Sweetly, gently. He was holding back; you felt it in his tenseness. The warmth of his mouth flushed pink across your face as your tongues lapped gently.

At your reciprocation, he deepened the kiss, licking hard into your mouth. Need, his hands begged, gripping onto your waist. But he batted your hand away when you reached for him. He didn't need to be squeezed, or fucked. He shakily dragged your hand to cradle his cheek.

Held. He needed to be held. To be reminded of the softness of his extremities, and the humanity that still lived in the cavern of his chest. You did not view him as an android, but as a man, and one that needed ample cajoling to show his heart, but it still beat strongly.

You traced kisses on his cheek, gently scruffing his beard. He settled near the junction of your throat, eyes closed against the onslaught of intimacy.

Heart buzzing, you petted his stubbly scalp. Whatever he'd started blossomed and grew between you, drawing your skin closer until he laid atop you. Your hands resumed their travel, smoothing out the creases in his forehead and the remaining uncertainty in his strength.

"Talk," he demanded quietly, holding you tighter. Humming, you thought to his schedule.

"You have a board meeting tomorrow," you whispered, brushing your fingers over his cheek, "and lunch with the director at nine..." Nathan huffed frustratedly and pressed against your hand. Smiling faintly, you moved to caress his beard.

"And...hm, I think that's all until Wednesday," you finished, hands laying still and soft against his chest. He basked in your touch for a few moments before cuddling a bit closer, a brawny forearm tucking up against your waist.

"Add...one of those back massage things in there somewhere," he mumbled, "mm...maybe one with the towels. Fuck yeah, a hot towel, please," he groaned when you kneaded a knuckle at the sore spot on his neck.

"Nathan Bateman, using his manners," you chided playfully. "Thought I'd never see the day." He grunted again but left you alone. The neutrality of his demeanor made you grin in surprise. The big, scary bear had tamed into a little cub, curled up for a nap.

"Okay, a hot towel, maybe some head rubs?" You mused, trailing a soft pinkie over his ear. He purred, like an honest to god cat, and you mentally added that to the list.

The sight of Nathan, spread out and pliant in your lap, dressed in soft sweats and practically eating out of your hand was something you wished you could frame. Like a trophy. Proof that underneath all of the cologne and arrogance, he was still a man.

"And then...I'll make dinner," you continued. He nodded, urging you to continue stroking his head, "then we can watch something, and...ooh, shave your beard off, or dye it purple," you slid a side eye at him at that one, but he was still blissfully smiling at nothing. Snorting, you fished your phone out of your pocket and snapped a quick photo.

"Cutie," you mumbled, dropping a kiss onto his nose. "Now scoot over, you're the little spoon tonight."

He obliged and you burrowed down next to him, content to bury your hands in the soft firmness of his chest and let his heartbeat pull you out to the restful sea.

tags! comment to join, and thanks for reading!

@krakenkitty @ominoose @bulletgoth @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @justsomeonecalledemma

@iolaussharpe-24 @rosegnome @twwcs @heeheehoohoofictimr @steven-grants-world

@ael-xander @to-be-a-sunshine @weasleyswizarding-wheezes @silvernight-m @lonelyisamyw-0love

@unear7hly @chaithetics @ominoose

#x reader #fanfic #writing #nathan bateman #fluff #nathan bateman x reader #oscar isaac characters #ex machina #non physical intimacy #no smut #eventual romance #kissing #nathan bateman fic #gn reader

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hiskillingjar · 1 day ago

Text

Dumb/Bimbofication (Strade/MC)

one of my top kinks that i totally overthought and ruined for myself for like two weeks lol, but the purpose of this challenge is to NOT overthink. STUPID. dumb. why are you so dumb, huh? i know you like being dumb, but just try to think for even a second, okaaaaay? :3

day 30: dumb/bimbofication second person. cw for incredibly dubious consent. please actually go to college. or don’t. i’m not your dad.

"Ooh! You've got a student ID in here. What, trying to keep all those discounts even after you've graduated? You naughty thing."

You whimpered very quietly, your voice like the shivering mewl of a dying animal, as Strade sifted through your purse.

He tossed aside your personal effects flippantly, pocketing any cash you had stuffed between the folds (what little you did have), and flicked through your numerous credit and loyalty cards carelessly, covering the basement floor with remnants of the life you had before him.

If you could even call this a life.

"Nooo, hang on, this is pretty up to date," He then said after a beat, his features narrowing as he took a closer look at your ID, before his eyes went back up to yours, a dark brow raised in a silent question. "You haven't graduated yet?” He grimaced, but it was a sympathetic expression that didn’t suit him in the slighest. “Yeesh, you're a little too old to be at university anymore, aren't you?"

"I'm...a-a grad student," You murmured, idly licking your bloody lips (you refused to drink anything he had offered you and you were sorely regretting that decision now) and casting your gaze downwards, not wanting to look at him. "I...um, I teach sometimes, too…guest lectures, that sort of thing…"

"You're a teacher?" He asked, raising his brow.

"Teaching assistant," You corrected him, before looking back down. "Um...I'm...working on a PhD...in, um," You bit your lip, cringing slightly at the dramatic irony. "...Criminal psychology."

"Criminal-HAH!" He cut himself off with a hearty guffaw, a deeply indulgent smile spreading on his face, clearly thrilled by your discomfort. "Wow, what are the chances?! Hey," He sat forward with another laugh, pushing himself closer towards you. "If you survive this," If. "This'll be a great inclusion in your essay, won't it? They'll give you that fancy degree on the spot!"

Your lip trembled and you looked down again, trying to hold yourself together (trying not to burst into tears) and not think too much about the fact he said 'if you survive'.

If.

You'd read countless books, journals and articles about guys like Strade, the rare sadist (who were not so rare, with one in ten people identifying with sadistic traits, according to university study) who didn't channel his desires into relationships with vulnerable girls or tearing people apart online, but actually did something about it.

You should know how to deal with situations like this. And you did, on paper anyway.

Theory rarely worked as well, in real life, as they did on paper.

"Hmph," He chuckled, looking back down at the student ID before he tossed it aside (and even that stung a little). "I’m not being fair…it’s impressive, really! You must be pretty smart, huh?" His expression softened slightly, golden eyes sparkling with mirth, before he reached out and ran a hand through your hair. "How lucky for you...beautiful AND clever. Most people only get graced with one of those features, you know?"

You didn’t say anything, but you let your head follow his touch, a tear beading down your cheek.

You thought it best to play along, at least a little, and not piss him off anymore than you had to.

You did want to survive this, after all.

Strade let out a huff through his nose and gently (as gently as he could manage) brushed the tear away with his thumb, before his fingers wrapped around your chin and he forced you to look up at him again.

"I don't think smarts are good for much, though," He said cryptically, canting his head to the side with a strange sort of smirk. "Not in a situation like yours."

He then pushed his free hand through your hair, and forcefully slammed your head back against the support beam you were propped up against.

"HNGH-!"

Without time to prepare or adjust, you could feel your eyes widen and bulge out your skull, straining against your fragile eyelids, and your teeth rattle (you even wondered if he’d knocked something loose with the force of the slam), and a wound opened on the back of your head, near instantly, weeping and red, blood running down the back of your neck.

"NGH, s-stop!" You yelped, planting bound up hands (flattened into parcel-tape wrapped mitts, so you could move but not much else) against his chest and trying to push him away.

He laughed callously as you struggled against him, but he stayed where he was, bringing his free hand up and tapping your forehead with a finger.

A condescending little gesture that made your insides twist uncomfortably.

"How about you stop thinking first?" He said.. "It's like I said already, fraulein, smarts aren't gonna help you, and smart people like you,” He tapped your forehead again. “You always think too much. So, stop using that thing in your head, hm?"

"Mmf," You sniffled, soft and pathetic sounding, from the pounding pain, even more tears running down your burning cheeks, as he shoved your head back against the support beam again, your head throbbing and oozing with blood the more he fucked with you. "Stop, please-"

"Come on, I alread told you what I want!" He said, somehow outraged, with a tut and a shake of his head. "Mein gott, it's really so easy. Just switch that brain off and focus on being...mm, cute, hm?” He smirked, clearly pleased with himself when your flushed cheeks flushed someohow darker. “After all, I don't think you're really cut out for this…ah, psychologist business, are you, fraulein?"

He reached out, running a finger down your face, before smirking and tilting his head.

"You know better than I do, you have to keep your emotions in check when you're dealing with criminals like me, sweetie. You need to stay calm if you want to think clearly. Didn't they teach you that in all those classes of yours?~"

He unexpectedly (totally expetedly, you were just too out of it to think right) slammed your head back into the beam, knocking your brain around even more, as another rivuloet of blood ran down the small of your back and trickled on the cement floor.

"Stop iiiit, stop thinking!" Strade teased, grinning lecherously, despite his evident frustration. as he leaned into you, bringing his mouth close to your ear. "Come ooon, you already know that you're not getting out of this, don't you? What are you clinging onto all those smarts for?” You felt the caress of his tongue run over the shell of your ear, and your grimace just set deeper. “You might even like dumbing down a little."

He snicked again, his tongue tracing the line of tears on your flushed cheek, as his fingers, sticky with the blood oozing from your head. trailed down your heaving chest.

"I know I'll like it, anyway."

"Hhhh," You let out a deep exhale when he finally let go of your hair, your head sinking down to your thighs, barely able to support yourself.

Your head was hurting so badly.

You just wanted to be left alone.

"Heh, good for you. You're pretty stubborn!" He said, like he was paying you a compliment, moving closer to your slumped form for a moment. "They teach you that in your fancy college? How to put up with torture, threats, rape, that sort of thing? Sounds like a class I'd like a whole lot…"

Strade pushed himself to his feet with a soft 'hup!', then, and paced over to his workbench, openinhg one of the drawers with a metallic clatter.

"Well, if you won't respond to violence...I think I know another way to, ah...turn your brain off, so to speak."

He rifled through the drawer for a moment before he produced what looked like a...egg vibrator.

Your head was still swimming from his pain, but your eyes widened, dreadfully wide (with dread being the operative word) and you forced yourself to sit up as he paced back towards you, smirking like a Devil at the clear fear in your expression.

"Ah, I know that look," He grinned as he took the knee in front of you again, moving his foot (the thick sole of his boot) over your ankle and pinning it still against the basement floor. “Mm, maybe they don’t prep you for rape, like I thought they did…might want to talk about that with those professors if you get out of this one, liebling~”

"Ngh, no, no-" You grimaced as his free hand forced your thighs to part.

"Now, I'm not usually one to do this sort of thing.” He started, like you hadn’t said a thing. “I've got a buddy who's way more into this stuff then I am, but, ah," He raised his eyes to yours, his expression giving away an eleation that made your stomach churn. "I'm getting the sense that a geek like you isn't so familiar with the more...intimate sides of things, hm? Sooo, maybe I should use that to my advantage?"

“Nononono,” You grit your teeth with erratic fear, trying to guard yourself with your taped up paws, but he was stronger than you (and not dazed out of his mind), and was able to overpower you with ease, pinning your hips backwards and forcing the egg into the gusset of your underwear. “No, Strade, please-!”

"And hey, maybe I'm wrong. Maybe you’re not a total prude like I thought, but…no offence, but you don't seem to be a very popular kind of girl," He teased with a shit eating smirk. "With your head in the books all the time, I'm guessing you didn't have much time to be...social, huh?”

He kneeled between your spread legs then, forcing them to open to accommodate him and only pushing you more open.

“Well, no worries. I'll teach you how to have a good time...and turn off the brain for a few minutes, too."

“NGH!”

You took in a sharp inhale as the toy buzzed to life (where was he even hiding the remote?), the initial sensation unfamiliar and uncomfortable, especially when combined with your throbbing head.

"Mph, see, there we go," He muttered approvingly, his golden eyes focused on the way your face was twisting into a grimace, your legs trying to close around him as the buzzing continued, relentless, rubbing against parts of yourself that even you hadn’t touched. "Now, that's a better expression. You don't have to think about that big scary brain of yours, now, do you? You get to just...let yourself be dumb for a while."

His free hand let go of your thigh and gently brushed a lock of your hair behind your ear, before cupping your cheek.

"Doesn't that feel better? Doesn’t it feel nice to be…away from whatever life you were living before?” He tilted his head, giving you a considered expression. “You don't have to think about those grades, those classes...all those books. Sounds like a real drag, doesn't it? You get to just enjoy the feeling for a little while, okay?"

"Okaaayyy..." You drawled, squeezing your eyes shut as your shaking hands sank down to your sides, the sensation from the buzzing toy simulationusaly overwhelming and...incredibly pleasurable.

You didn’t even know your body was capable of feeling like this.

When did other people learn about this?

"Heh, that's a good girl," Strade murmured with a filthy grin, leaning in closer to you, rubbing his thu,mb over your cheek. "That’s much better. Now, you get to just be a cute little thing for me, don’t you? You don't have to think about a thing. You don't get to worry about your studies, your job, your family...anything like that.”

He leaned in and pressed a kiss to your cheek.

“You just focus on being...sweet, and pretty, and dumb. Can you do that for me? Hmmm?~"

"Uh huuuh," You breathed out, your tight expression relaxing a little as he used the egg to massage between your wet folds, teasing a node just above your dripping hole that made you see stars. "Oh, that's good...nhh..."

"Mhmm, see? You’re feeling good," Strade chuckled, taking in the sight of you with an indulgent sigh, indulging in the way your expression was slowly relaxing and transforming under his touch. "So good, you became a cute, little idiot for me without me even trying. Hah!”

He increased the intensity slightly, watching your expression intently.

“You're liking being a little puppet for me, aren't you? You enjoying this, even if you’re pretending otherwise. Hnn…” He grinned against your cheek, breathing you in. “You like it when I make you feel like this, all mindless and dumb for me? Come on, let me hear how much you like it."

"Oh, god-!" You gasped, pressing your sweaty, tear streaked face against his shoulder (leaving a wet print on his shirt as you did so).

He chuckled kindly, not seeming to mind, and placed a hand to the back of your head, forcing your face closer.

"That's it, baby doll," He cooed encouragingly, circling the tip of the egg in a tight little circle against your cunt. "Feels good, doesn’t it? Nice and intense? You don't have to use that head for a damn thing anymore. All those hours studying, thinking, trying to use that brain...well, it got you into some trouble all right, didn't it?” He pet your hair slowly, like he was petting an animal. “Don’t let yourself get upset again, though. It could have happened to anyone…you’re just lucky enough that it happened to you, aren’t you?”

"Mmhmm," You nodded (as best you could), biting your lip hard as you felt your brain (figuratively) start to slur in your aching, bleeding skull and…leak out of any available hole it could.

Maybe it would be better if you just submitted to him.

That's what all your classes told you to do, wasn't it? To...submit to what the criminal wanted, to play along, act dumb and pliant and easy, even if that meant losing yourself completely.

That had to be it.

"Good girl," He praised, his lips pressed against your ear again so you could feel the warmth of his breath against your skin. "Behaving so well, now, aren’t you? You just needed someone to help you feel good, and now…all those big thoughts you had before are just...slipping out of your head.”

“Mmhmm~”

“It's so much easier for someone like you, isn't it? Being a brainless, little doll? So easy to just listen to my every word and do exactly what I tell you? You can just...sit back and enjoy the feeling…you don't even have to think about it. That’s what I’m here for, isn’t it, liebling?"

Yeah.

Submitting would be the smart thing to do.

"Hmph. So much for college, right?~"

#strade btd #strade x mc #strade x reader #kinktober 2024 #one of the faves #duhhhhh

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phantoms-planet · 3 hours ago

Text

Barred Protection Chapter Seven

First

Misspelled J'onn's name the whole chapter, don't have energy to fix it, sorry

Daelus was unkempt. Hair loose and in his face, bags under his eyes. Batman had seen many people go behind bars but none of them fell apart this quickly. It had only been a little over a week after all.

“Are you here to ask where I got him?” A weak voice called out. “I made sure that there weren’t any records of that.”

“I know.” Batman responded shortly. “Where?”

“When I was first building my company, I went on the look for anything that could be used for healing. I found a group called the G.I.W and got in contact with them.”

Batman pursed his lips. He didn’t know this organization, at least not by acronym.

After a pause Daelus put his head in his shaking hands. “Please, I never meant to hurt anyone.”

“Except for Danny.” Daelus flinched at the words.

“I didn’t know he was really a child. They said he was…I believed them…God why did I believe them?”

A twinge of sympathy found its way out. Batman ignored it. “Who is the G.I.W?”

“They hunt ghosts.” Daelus answered simply.

This resulted in a confused grunt. Danny wasn’t a ghost; he was a meta child. Ghosts existed, just look at Deadman for an example, and ghost hunters were nothing new, but as far as he was aware none of them ever boasted having ghosts in their possession.

It was usually amateur groups waving recording devices and different cameras everywhere hoping to catch their supposed ‘anomalies’. They were as incompetent as they were spiritual most of the time.

Daelus took in a shaky breath before clarifying. “They’re a government branch dedicated to the capture and eradication of ecto-entities, as they call them. I assure you that what they do is entirely legal.”

Now wasn’t that a concerning statement. How they got permission to do things like capture a young boy while the Meta Protection Acts were in place was, unfortunately, beyond him.

“Where is their facility?”

Daelus shrugged tentatively. “I don’t know, we met at an agreed secondary location to discuss the deal and for them to transfer custody over. In hindsight that was most certainly a red flag.”

Batman hummed his agreement but didn’t say anything, waiting for Daelus to simply tell him things. The man didn’t disappoint.

“They said he was a ghost that’s whole purpose was to protect people. Through experiments they found that his tears…his tears could heal people.”

“So you bought him.”

“I didn’t believe he was a ghost though,” The man didn’t seem to hear him. “Ghosts are silly. But there is proof of gods and god-like beings. Superman, for one. I thought…maybe if I could harness the entity’s need to help others, I could find a way to make his tears into medicine, and it worked!”

“I had spent so many years trying to synthesize cures and all I needed was Subject P’s tears to do what no one else had managed. There weren’t any negative side effects, the tears were easy to incorporate, it was perfect! Everyone was happy!”

Batman pursed his lips as Daelus lit up when speaking about his success. It was as if the man only saw the solution and not the horrific path to get to it.

Seeming to sense his rising frustration, Daelus deflated with a quiet mumbled apology. They sat in silence for a few minutes. Nothing made noise but the clock ticking away the seconds up on the wall.

It was Daelus who broke the quiet. “When I was in middle school, there was a girl who had a terminal illness. I wasn’t close to her, to be honest I found her unworthy of my time. But I noticed when she died.”

Batman rose an eyebrow at the sudden story.

“Everyone was devastated. I couldn’t stand the way the air felt. It was as if we were all suffocated by the grief of her friends and family.” Daelus pulled a hand down his face, a deep frown forming. “I never cared about her, but I did care about the aftermath. I knew then that I wanted to make sure no one else had to feel the grief her loved ones did. That’s why I made my company.”

There was a pregnant pause. “You could use some of my medicines for-“

“No.”

“But- It could help the boy get better!”

“I said no.” Batman pulled himself to his feet and swept his way to the door, nodding to the guards to let them know he was done for now.

“Please! Let me help fix this!” The door slammed shut on the rest of Daelus’s cries.

---

After being brought back to his cell, Daelus started pacing like a caged animal. He knew his cures could help the boy, he knew it would be better than healing without help, he knew Batman had to know this as well.

Surely using P’s tears on himself was a good use for them? Even with how they were acquired if there was anyone who deserved their healing factor, it would be the boy who produced them! After all, he had helped save thousands of people!

Dealus didn’t know what to do with the buildup of guilt and rage. He wanted to yell. He wanted to cry. By God he wanted to break something.

Batman wasn’t letting him help fix anything. It wasn’t fair. Shouldn’t he get the chance to right the wrong he had caused? Surely Batman, who sent his rogues to get help, would understand this.

Only it seemed like he hadn’t. There hadn’t been a moment’s thought into denying Daelus’s ideas.

He forced himself to stop pacing and start taking deep breaths. It wouldn’t help anything to simmer in his anger right then and it certainly wouldn’t do anything good for his already troubled mind.

Instead Daelus called over the guard and made a simple request.

---

The NastyBurger.

That is where he was at the moment. Sitting in a booth, eating a burger that didn’t actually have any taste to it. That’s when the green guy showed up asking to sit with him. Danny had obliged.

“Do you remember me at all?” The green man asked. Danny shook his head. “My name is J’ohn. I was there when we rescued you.”

Rescued him? That was odd. He wasn’t in any danger; he was sitting around eating fast food after all.

J’ohn’s face seemed to grow…concerned? He wasn’t really sure how to read that expression. “Danny, do you remember what happened to you?”

“You’re gonna have to be more specific dude.”

“The facility.”

The edges of his surroundings started fuzzing out. If he thought about it, and he didn’t, there felt like something wrapped around his throat and wrists. Then it all went back to normal. “No idea what you’re talking about. The only ‘facility’,” Danny used air quotes, “I’ve been in is my parent’s lab.”

This didn’t seem to make J’ohn feel any better. Whatever, it wasn’t his problem. “Look man, my friends are going to be here soon, I’ll…talk to you later, I guess?” Before J’ohn could stop him, Danny was booking it from the building.

What a weird man for real.

…

This time it was at school. J’ohn walked in on his gym class in the middle of dodgeball. He wasn’t hit once as he made his way over to Danny.

Oddly enough, no one else paid attention to him.

“Danny, we need to speak. Your mind isn’t healing well, we need to know what has happened to you.”

Danny snorted. “Dude, I told you; I don’t know what you’re talking about. Nothing has happened to me besides Dash trying to pelt my face in with a dodgeball.”

“The facility was real Danny. Please try to remember.”

Once again the surroundings fuzzed out but this time Danny wasn’t going to stand for it. Rage boiled in his chest. “I said I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Jhon was about to respond when a ball hit him square in the side of the head.

Danny ran into the locker room.

…

Surely as Phantom he would get a break from J’ohn, right? Surely!

Not.

J’ohn was floating right next to him now as he shot ecto blasts at Boxy. “Danny please, this isn’t healthy. You need to remember so you can begin to heal.”

Danny had had enough. Turning square onto the man he aimed both hands and- fury exploded outwards as J’ohn simply dodged the blast. “I DON’T HAVE TO REMEMBER ANYTHING!” Just like that the world ripped away, leaving them in a blackened void. “I don’t WANT to remember anything!” J’ohn stumbled as winds started whipping around him. “And you can’t MAKE ME REMEMBER!”

---

J’ohn tripped backwards as he was violently expelled from the young boy’s mind. Diana caught him and gently sat him down. He spent a moment just catching his breath.

Of course he understood, such a young child going through something this traumatic would be difficult to reach, but he realized too late that he might have picked the wrong route to get to him.

Batman grunted, asking for what happened.

“I pushed too hard. Danny won’t welcome me into his mind so easily again. He’s adamant that he doesn’t want to remember anything about what happened to him. He’s choosing to fabricate a life as if it never happened at all.”

“That’s…” Diana couldn’t seem to find the words. Even Batman was upset by the news.

Everyone had been so excited when they had found out that Danny’s mind had been clearing up, and worried when he stopped waking up. This was not the breakthrough they had been hoping for.

“Where do we go from here?” Diana’s voice was uncharacteristically fragile.

Batman reached over to lay a hand to her shoulder. “Now we go after the G.I.W.”

---

Frostbite had many regrets. His most current one was related to the collar latched around his throat. He knew he should have listened to Clockwork but standing by while Danny was hurt and captive hadn’t sat well with him.

He had grown so fond of the young boy, so much so that he had begun to see him as something akin to his own. More than anything it hurt deeply to watch as Phantom was abused and neglected. Frostbite refused to stay idle any longer.

Now he was in a cage, unable to help anyone.

He dreaded what was going to happen to him, and even more-so how it would affect Phantom. After all, the G.I.W weren’t known for their mercy.

For what seemed to be the hundredth time Frostbite looked around the cage he was in.

It was only just large enough to house him sitting down, glowing green in an ominous way, and the bars on the one side showed a lab that made his fur stand on end. There were needles, saws, scalpels, clamps, anything medical that could be used to open someone up or keep them properly down covered the walls.

A sterile metal table sat in the center of the starkly lit room. It was large enough for him to fit on, which did nothing to help his nerves.

Frostbite curled in tighter on himself. He hoped against everything that someone might come to rescue him before it was too late.

#dc x dp #dp x dc #dpxdc #ao3 fanfic

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