#knowing me this will not last but i wanna try
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
Dating Sevika headcanons (sfw sorry gang)
————————————————————————
•You once tried to steal her cigar as a joke. Big mistake. Sevika caught you mid-act, lifted you with one arm, and said, “Cute. Don’t do it again.” You still did it again.
•Sevika’s idea of cooking is tossing something in a pan and hoping for the best. She’ll scoff at recipes and mutter, “I don’t need instructions.” Spoiler: she absolutely needs instructions. Burnt toast has become a running joke in your relationship.
•Every time she gets into a bar fight, you’re in the background yelling, “Not the face! I love her face!” She pretends not to hear you while decking someone twice her size.
•She once used her metal arm to open a stubborn jar of pickles. Now she’s your go-to for all tough jar lids. She grumbles, but you caught her smiling the third time.
•Sevika hates when you try to join her poker games. You can’t keep a straight face, and the other players eat you alive. She’s banned you from sitting at her table, but you keep sneaking in to “help her win.”
•If someone so much as glances at you wrong, she’ll glare at them until they shrink back into their seat. Once, a drunk guy tried to flirt with you at The Last Drop. Sevika didn’t even stand up; she just cracked her knuckles, and he bolted.
•Sevika doesn’t do romantic pillow talk. Instead, she’ll grumble about how “these damn chem-barons can’t organize for shit,” then roll over and fall asleep. You’ve learned to just nod along and kiss her forehead.
•You tried to kiss her while she had a cigar in her mouth. She just deadpanned, “You wanna taste smoke that bad?” and blew a puff right at you.
•She’ll act annoyed when you dote on her—calling her “big, scary Sevika” or pinching her cheeks—but secretly, she lives for your attention. She once sulked for hours when you forgot to kiss her goodbye.
•She rarely gets drunk, but when she does, she becomes weirdly sentimental. She’ll hold your face in her hands, stare at you with bleary eyes, and slur, “You’re too good for me. Don’t tell anyone I said that.”
•On her rare days off, Sevika becomes the ultimate couch potato. You’ll find her sprawled out, watching trashy reality shows with the volume way too high. She’ll deny it later, but you’ve caught her rooting for her favorite contestant.
•She’ll never admit she’s wrong in an argument. But later, she’ll shove your favorite snack into your hands as a peace offering. That’s as close to an apology as you’re getting.
•Sevika loves making you laugh, though she won’t admit it. She’ll mutter something sarcastic under her breath just to hear you giggle, then pretend she didn’t care.
•Once, you heard a noise outside at night. Sevika grabbed a crowbar, stormed outside, and returned five minutes later saying, “It was just a cat. Go back to bed.” You’re 90% sure she scared that cat into never coming back.
•Every now and then, Sevika will surprise you with something sweet—a trinket from the market, a rare flower she found, or even just a quiet moment where she pulls you into her lap and murmurs, “I missed you.” She’ll act like it’s no big deal, but you know better.
•If someone so much as looks at you wrong, Sevika is ready to throw hands. She’ll casually step in front of you, her massive frame blocking the offender, and ask with a chillingly calm voice, “You got something to say?” Spoiler: they don’t.
•Sevika doesn’t do flowers or chocolates, but she’ll slide a bag of your favorite snacks across the table with a gruff, “Saw these on my way back.” Or she’ll casually fix something broken around your place, claiming it’s no big deal.
•Sevika loves having you sit on her lap. Whether you’re watching a game at The Last Drop, lounging at home, or just chatting, her favorite place for you is right on her thighs. She’ll rest her chin on your shoulder and mutter how lucky she is to have you.
•Sevika loves making sure everyone knows you’re hers. A possessive hand on your waist, a kiss in a crowded room, or a quiet, low-toned threat to anyone who tries to flirt with you—she’s got it all covered.
•While she’s the definition of tough to everyone else, Sevika melts for you. She’ll roll her eyes when you call her “soft,” but she secretly loves it when you snuggle up to her or kiss her scarred cheek.
•If you catch her doing something sweet—like tucking a blanket around you or cooking breakfast—she’ll grumble, “Don’t get used to it,” while secretly hoping you do.
•Sevika has a habit of holding her cigar out to you, offering you a puff with a teasing smirk. She’ll chuckle if you cough but will be unreasonably proud if you manage to handle it.
•Sevika notices everything about you. If you’re feeling down, she’ll subtly try to cheer you up without making a big deal out of it. If you’re tired, she’ll drag you to bed (even if you protest).
•Sevika thinks it’s hilarious when you try to arm wrestle her. She’ll let you think you’re winning for a few seconds before slamming your hand down with a wicked grin.
•Sevika is not a morning person. If you try to wake her up early, she’ll groan, bury her face in the pillow, and mumble something about five more minutes—which turns into an hour.
•Sevika is strong, resilient, and seemingly unshakable—but when it comes to you, she’s a goner. You’re her world, her light, and the reason she fights so hard to survive.
#arcane#arcane sevika#sevika#sevika arcane#sevika headcanon#sevika imagine#sevika x reader#sevika x y/n#sevika x you#sevika story#arcane x reader#arcane x you#arcane x y/n#arcane x female reader
635 notes
·
View notes
Text
Now i need a fic of daisuke yelling at jimmy to go in the vent himself.
Wait a minute, i can just write it.
...
Gimmie a sec...
(Cw for canon typical gore, also spoilers)
Daisuke stood in silence, his back facing Jimmy. It was the most quiet Jimmy had ever seen him and something about it deeply unsettled him.
"Daisuke?"
"Why does Anya look pregnant?" Daisuke merely looked over his shoulder at Jimmy, his eyes narrow and his stance firm.
Jimmy's heart sinks a little.
"I-I-I don't fuckin know, I'm not her dad! Come on what are you waiting for? She could be killing Curly right now!"
Daisuke snaps back at Jimmy, "she would not fucking do that! Answer the god damn question Jimmy, how in the hell did she get pregnant? She's not in a relationship with anyone on this ship, she looks like she cant be any less than 5 months along, and she certainly does not seem like she trusts you enough to let you into her bed willingly. Tell me the fucking truth. Now."
Jimmy stood stunned, it was like his bones had turned into solid cement.
"ANSWER THE FUCKING QUESTION!" Daisuke grabbed a long screwdriver from Swansea's workbench and pointed it shakily at Jimmy.
"You wouldn't dare hurt me..." Jimmy's brows furrowed.
Daisuke trembled as he locked eyes with Jimmy, but when he glanced up at the sparking wires in the vent his body stood still again.
"Go up there. If you want someone to check on Anya so bad, you do it."
"What?! I don't know the route in there! You're the only one that does besides maybe Swansea!" Jimmy's voice was shaking but he tried to keep a rough intimidating tone.
"It's a one way street Jimmy, you can't fucking miss it. Now, get in the fucking vent," Daisuke adjusted his grip on the screwdriver.
"N-no! Those live wires will fucking kill me!"
"They'll kill me too, so why do you want me to go in there so bad? Why are you so willing to put my life on the fucking line over yours? My body isn't even that much smaller than you so don't you dare try to say I'd have an easier time in there."
"What other choice do we have?! Anya could be hurting Curly right now! Just get in the damn vent and stop arguing over nothing!"
There was a pause, a tension so thick you could cut it with a knife.
Then without warning Daisuke dashed behind Jimmy out the door, sprinting down the hall.
Jimmy ran after him but as he rounded a corner, he found himself with a shining axe pointed at his head.
"Get. In. The fucking. Vent." Daisuke was shaking but his eyes were dark with rage.
Jimmy slowly put up his hands and glanced at Swansea on the ground. He was slowly waking up, maybe hed stop this.
"SWANSEA DAISUKE IS TRYING TO KILL ME!"
Swansea groggily lifted his head from his puddle of drool on the ground and looked at him with an unamused gaze.
"Finally. The one right thing the kid's done for the ship..." he let his head fall back to the floor.
"Get in there. Now." Daisuke inched the axe closer to Jimmy's chest.
Slowly but surely Jimmy backed his way into the utility room with Daisuke never losing eye contact with him. As they finally were in range of the vent Jimmy stopped and looked up at it again.
"Daisuke please I can't do this, I would die just trying to get in there!"
"Then it would be a win for us all. Now get in. I wanna know if Anya is ok," His eyes started to grow wet with tears.
"Daisuke ple-" before Jimmy could finish Daisuke screamed at him.
"SHUT UP AND GET IN THE FUCKING VENT!"
Jimmy shook as he looked up at the gaping maw of the sparking vent and slowly climbed up the ladder.
He scanned the chamber for sparks as he made his way in, carefully trying to keep his limbs away from any cables he felt in the darkness. He looked back down at Daisuke trying to plead one last time.
But Daisuke had no forgiveness. He gripped the axe harder and narrowed his eyes at him, gesturing with the axe head to go further.
Jimmy's body trembled as he climbed through, his eyes darting to every spark and buzz he saw. The echo of the fans was deafening and the rumbling warble of the metal sheeting as he crawled made him terrified he might fall through one of the panels if he stayed on it too long.
Finally he made his way to the vent in the medbay but just as he reached to push it open-
He screams.
A live wire sends searing shocks though his arm and he lurches backwards, unknowingly backing into even more live wires. In an instant his body is filled with the fires of hell itself, shocking his very bones and making his muscles jerk and spasm uncontrollably. The pain is excruciating, he feels his heart jumping in disjointed rhythms and for a moment he thinks hes having a heart attack. He uses his little remaining strength to push open the vent and crawls over to the door to unlock it. The effort makes him collapse to the ground as his body contorts, desperately trying to find a position that doesn't agrivate his burns. But it's no use.
He lays on the ground and opens his eyes with heaving breaths finding himself face to face with Anya's twitching body.
Her eyes are lifeless and her mouth and nose are wet with blood and vomit. In her hand is an empty bottle of pain pills.
Curly looks down at her sobbing quietly, staring at her as if he was trying desperately to will her back to life. He lets out garbled breathy wails as tears pour down in rivers from his eye.
Jimmy locks eyes with Curly who looks up at him in horror.
Though his voice is beyond weak and his vocal cords have been mostly destroyed, he tries his hardest to muster up a word for the first time since the crash.
"...why....."
"Why can’t I go in myself?- Uh, well Swansea trained you Daisuke, obviously."
"…"
"I won’t be too far away..!"
#mouthwashing#mouthwashing daisuke#mouthwashing jambalaya#mouthwashing jimmy#mouthwashing fanart#mouthwashing spoilers#mouthwashing fanfic#mw jimmy#mw daisuke#daisuke mouthwashing#daisuke#jimmy mouthwashing#jimmy mw
1K notes
·
View notes
Note
hii!! <33
i love your work and i just have to request something for.. choi seung-hyun :)
yk top isnt in the kpop industry after all the things that happened to him (i feel so bad for him) so, when he was recording squid game.. guess what!?? apart from jo yuri, reader. a kpop idol whom during the last months/year has become famous there acting!! oh gosh he is so in shock because he gets flashbacks. and aside from that, our character is associated with his, so he has to spend plenty of time with us
Absolutely love it, I do I do. So let's do this
My Darling - Choi Seung Hyun x reader
Summary: Meeting Choi Seung Hyun was an honor for you, considering you had stepped into his spotlight as a new upcoming k-pop rapper after he retired, so what happens whenever you not only meet him, but get closer than most with him
Warnings: You will cry.
Going on set for squid games for the first time was an experience, especially meeting everybody, yes you had been on a handful of other production, but nothing like this. Whenever you first given you script, you were sure you'd be one of the first to be killed off, but finding out you live throughout the second season was a shock, especially because you had a tour coming up soon.
Walking through the groups of people you felt nervous, because of your management company you had missed your first reading for the script, meaning everybody had already met other than you. You chose to sit in your chair off to the side going over your script, trying to anybody wearing a tracksuit with 230 on it, knowing that was going to be the main co-star you filmed with. Unknown to you Choi Seung Hyun had already spotted you and was standing in shock "Hey? You okay man?" Jae-won (Player 124) asked him seeing him staring across the room "Y-Yea, does she look familiar?" He asked motioning to you "I know we film with her, but-" Seung Hyun was cut off by a soft voice in front of him "Hi, I'm uh..Y/n l/n..I guess we're gonna be love interests" You smiled sweetly extending your hand to shake his, taken by surprise by him bending slightly to kiss the top of your hand gently "Choi Seung Hyun" He introduced, you blushed scratching the back of your neck shyly "O-Oh I know, being a big female rapper in k-pop, you have to know who came before you" You smiled, his smirk turned into a genuine smile after that "That's where I recognized you, you're that y/n!" He explained, sighing in relief that it wasn't going to be awkward you smiled "Do you guys wanna go over a few lines with me?..I couldn't make it the other day" You asked shyly, both men excitedly volunteering.
Filming with Seung Hyun was fun, he was always trying to flirt with you or get you to laugh, while it flustered you, the directors and cast loved it, all of them explaining it's giving their characters alot more chemistry behind the acting. As you stood on your mark, Seung Hyun stood on the opposite side of the scene, filming scenes for a close up argument between your character and his, as the director called action you attempted to start your lines "You selfish!- I can't! he's standing there so sweet!" You frowned, stepping forward hugging him tightly "You're not selfish" You frowned, the past few weeks of filming you and Seung Hyun got close, opening up to each other over wine after filming and coffee before filming. Seung Hyun just chuckled "I know, would it help if I made you mad?" He asked raising his eyebrows, you shrugged stepping back to your marker "Couldn't hurt to try" You smiled softly, he just smiled before looking at you "Your music is by far better than anything I've produced, and you've surpassed me in the rap world" He explained, you both knew he was just coming up with things that would get under his skin, it wasn't that you were a huge fangirl, but going into the music world at first you idolized T.O.P, so after his scandal and and him leaving BigBang you held a soft spot for him, he was a big reason you even learned how to rap that fast.
You filmed the scene with ease after that, only stumbling on your lines one more time after that for the day. You were now standing with your back to the wall, Seung Hyun standing a few inches in front of you, his arm blocking one side of your head, the other had a camera positioned to see the both of you perfectly "Y/n, Seung Hyun, Are you two okay to start?" Dong-Hyuk asked, you were grateful to have such a thoughtful director, any intense scenes always making sure you were comfortable and ready before filming started. "Let's do this" Seung Hyun smiled, you nodded in agreement as they called out action. "I thought I told you to pick to stay, senorita" he growled, grabbing the bright red X patch that was velcroid to your jacket "You're not the boss of me" You stated glaring him down, trying your best to remember what line was your cue to try and get away "Didn't I say I'd kill you?" He asked reaching his hand back, forgetting your cue you yelped as Seung Hyun's came in contact with your throat, pinning you to the wall, you both glanced at the director in shock, almost like children after accidentally hurting each other. "Cut!" He called out "Y/n! What was that? Did you forget your cue or something?" The director called out, your eyes were stuck on Seung Hyun though, his hand slowly pulling away from you, being replaced by his gentle finger tips "Are you okay?" He asked softly, trying to see with the current lighting if he hurt you "I'm alright, it just scared me..I guess I did forget" You whispered, you wouldn't admit why exactly you forgot, it definitely wasn't because of Seung Hyun's voice whenever he was acting.
After filming you were sitting on your trailer steps, watching the rain fall around you "Y/n" Seung Hyun's soft voice sounded from somewhere around the corner of your trailer "Seung Hyun?" You asked, trying to hear him over the soft pattering of the raindrops, you soon realized he wasn't talking to you, he was talking about you. Peeking around the corner you saw him a few trailers down talking on the phone with somebody "Yea yea I know that, but what else?" He asked, you stayed hidden behind your trailer, still listening in, not at all sorry to admit you really cared about what he thought about you, but also sorry to admit you felt the need to listen in on his conversation to know. "I don't know man! W-working with her has been fun.." You heard between the muffled quiet bits of his conversation, you were about to walk away before you heard him raise his voice again "Oh no! No! Not like that!" He shouted, you could only wonder what he meant or what he was talking about, you chose to keep it to yourself for now.
Walking up with a startle off put your morning severely, being a rising star wasn't easy, you had creeps at meet and greets, stalkers that went to extensive lengths to try and get your attention, some of which giving you pretty intense nightmares and ptsd. Walking onto set you gripped your script, you had accidentally slept through coffee with Seung Hyun, which gave him a weird feeling, like there was something wrong. "Y/n?" You heard his voice before you slammed into his body, you scampered back as Seung Hyun caught you easily, steading you on your feet before taking in your panicked look "Hey, are you okay, sweetheart?" He asked tilting his head, you didn't reply, just wrapping your arms tightly around him trying not to show to anybody that you were close to tears. Now Seung Hyun wasn't a liar, he wasn't very fond of physical touching, but there was something about your panicked terrified state that gave him a craving to hold onto you until you were back to your usual bubbly self. Wrapping his arms around you he rested a hand on the back of your head, holding you close to him "What happened this morning?" He asked "You were fine whenever I left last night.." He continued giving you a soft squeeze before pulling away, keeping a gentle hand resting on your shoulder. "I don't..Just..bad dreams" You smiled softly, trying to shake off any remaining anxiety you had "Are you okay to do today?" He asked rubbing your shoulder gently, you relaxed further under his touch "Y-Yea yea, I'm okay" You smiled, he gave you an encouraging smile before leading you over to your seats, that you both had moved closer to each other during one of your interviews earlier in the week.
As you read through this episodes script you mumbled quietly to yourself, unknowingly singing along to different verses of different songs that popped into your head "Okay, remind me when I'm in the studio again to get you to come do a collaboration track together" Seung Hyun smiled walking over to you from where he was filming "Don't play with my teenage fangirl heart like that" You teased, you both knew how you felt towards BigBang as a teenager, how you had posters of your co-star in your room before and after his rap career. "I'm serious, that's some good work" He smiled sincerely squeezing your shoulder sitting down, you just offered him an awkward smile, you knew today was Seung Hyun's last day on set, and it would be the last day you truly got to spend with him, and it'd be a lie if you said you wouldn't miss him.
You had one scene left between you and Seung Hyun before his characters death scene, and you were a nervous wreck, as the director called out action you stood in the colored room for the game 'mingle' "What was that stunt you pulled, huh!?" He shouted, backing you against the wall "I-I was trying to save her-" He cut you off, you did your best to act nervous and scared, but it was hard whenever the man currently yelling at you would apologize the minute any scenes where he had to objectify or be rude to you were done. "Her!? What about you, senorita!?" He screamed before backing up running his hands through his hair before going back to standing in front of you "I'm so fucking mad right now!" He shouted, pulling out another piece of candy out of his prop necklace placing it in his mouth "Just calm down! I'm okay, alright!" You argued, he just put his arm against the wall glaring at you, you took a deep breath getting ready for your cue "Don't try to tell Thanos the great to- Umpf!" He started until you smacked your lips against his, his hands going to your hips holding you close to his body waiting for the director to call Cut. Whenever he did you were a flustered mess, who knew that man could kiss like that?
After filming wrapped you were quick to get back to your trailer, shutting the door softly behind you before placing your face in your hands trying to take deep breaths, you didn't want anybody to see you like this, you felt stupid and overdramatic, but you and Seung Hyun had gotten really close during your months of filming, and it made you sad thinking about how busy you were, and how little you'd get to see your new friend, you wouldn't say you were an emotional person, but whenever you felt something, you truly felt it to where it'd effect everything you'd do. As you took your final shaky deep breath you jumped hearing the door close "Y/n?.." Seung Hyun asked softly, he thought you had been acting even odder than before as they got closer to his characters death, but after you left while he was saying his thank you's and goodbye's to everybody it was obvious now something was really bothering you. Seeing your teary eyes and tear stained cheeks he felt a pain in his chest "Oh, Jagi" He whispered pulling you into a hug, now Seung Hyun wasn't sure what he felt towards you, but he knew it was something different, he wanted to talk to you everyday, wanted to be the one to comfort you when you're sad, hold you whenever you're scared, and he knew friends didn't want that with other friends.
"I really liked hanging out and meeting you Seung Hyun" You sniffled stepping back, starting to bow in respect but he stopped you "Is that what you've been so upset about?" He asked, a soft smile playing on his lips, you just shrugged against his hold on you, not trusting your voice to speak "I didn't think you'd miss me that bad" He smiled, leading you over to sit on the couch that was placed in the bigger space of the trailer "I can't...have alot of friends...I mean you know, and being here, I feel like I finally found one, and I don't know when I'll see you again" You frowned, feeling tears start to build back up in your eyes, his expression was quick to match yours as he hugged you again "You'll see me again, y/n, don't worry I don't care if I have to buy V.I.P tickets to see you at every show, you're too cool to just not be your friend after this" He smiled giving you a slight squeeze before pulling away, you sniffled wiping your face "You wouldn't pay, I'd let you come watch backstage" You whispered, his frown turning into a soft chuckle "Well then, I'll be looking forward to it" He smiled, kissing your forehead softly "I had fun hanging out with you too, y/n" He added on, holding your hand in his gently "Promise we'll see each other again?" You whispered, feeling yourself about to cry again "I swear to you, jagi" he whispered before leaning back pulling you into a hug, holding you until you fell asleep.
Whenever you woke up the feeling of sadness was even heaiver seeing Seung Hyun gone and a small note sitting on the table
'Jagi,
I had to get going in time to make an art show, but I will be back to see you soon! Just over the last month, you've made me feel things I never thought I would be capable of feeling, that's how I knew you were my best friend. Acting with you and all the nights we spent talking will forever be an honor for me, your beauty is like no others, my eyes are drawn it to like a bumble bee to a flower. You give me hope there's a lot of good things to keep trying for, and for that, I will always be grateful for you my jagi.
Yours truly,
Choi Seung Hyun
T O P <3'
Reading the note you felt yourself on the verge of crying again, wanting to smack him for not letting you have a chance to thank him for being so sweet to you, sighing you got up, ready to get finished filming so you could see your best friend again.
--
HAHA MY FIRST SLIGHTLY SAD FIC AND MY FIANCE IS SO PISSED SHE'S GOTTA WAIT FOR A PART TWO!!
#t.o.p x reader#thanos x reader#choi seunghyun#choi su bong x reader#squid game thanos#top x reader#squid game#squidgame#thanos squid game#thanos/choi su bong#su bong x reader#t.o.p bigbang#bigbang
203 notes
·
View notes
Text
Red | The Salesman
Pairing: The Salesman x fem!reader
Summary: After a tiring day, you're just trying to go home, but while you're waiting on your train, a handsome man in a suit stumbles on you.
Warning/s: betting, money in exchange for a game, slapping (on the face, you nasty), salesman trying to recruit you for the games, smoking cigarettes, people on the station being kind of weirded out, maybe some cursing (idk), reader is in debt, possible grammar and spelling mistakes
Author's note: So this is like the prequel to my story Russian Roulette, but it really doesn't matter whether you read that fic or this one first. You do you. I really love the request, btw. Hope you enjoy!
Request: hii can u make more stories in this story line between the reader n him? like i rlly wanna know what they were like tgthr before this situation since we r told they had smth tgthr at some point tyyyy
Part 2 here!!
The bench where I was sitting was quite cold, which, of course, wasn't surprising considering how cold it was tonight. My hand slightly shook as I wrapped my fingers around the lit up cigarette that I was smoking for who knows how long. My flimsy jacket that was wrapped around me did not bring exact comfort to me that I had hoped it would.
Shivering there, I sat as the announcer's voice rang around the train station, signaling that the train that I was waiting for to go home would be slightly delayed, forcing me to wait there for entire hour more than I should be waiting. It was already late and I was so done with today's day.
Trying to earn money was hard, especially when you're in a lot of debt. Being chased by the people who you owe money to, threatening to cut out your eyes, possibly even kill you in the end, wasn't fun either. You had to learn to sleep with one eye open. Constantly on edge, just like I was right now.
The job that I worked did not provide as much money as I needed it to. There was simply no way for me to earn enough money for food every day, to pay rent which I was already three months behind. My landlord was truly a fucking angel for letting me live in that house as long as I did, but I knew that that wouldn't last forever either. There was no way that I could afford to pay everything that was essential, let alone pay off my debts.
In frustration, letting out a deep, disappointed sigh, my hand slid into the pocket of my jacket, reaching for yet another cigarette and a lighter.
"Hello, miss."
I practically jumped from my seat, startled by a sudden voice next to me. I whipped my head around, finding the face that this voice belonged to.
Right next to me, smiling, was a very handsome man that looked like some kind of salesman. He was wearing a very expensive suit. His hair was as black as the night sky. His piercing eyes just as black. There was little to no facial hair, but that really suited him. He was very handsome and I quickly found myself surprised when I realized that he was actually talking to me.
"Can I talk to you?" He asked once he noticed how startled I was.
"I'm not a prostitute, sir." I said, sliding away on the bench further away from him.
"Don't worry, miss, it's not that." He chuckled gently, his eyes never leaving mine. "I just want to let you in on a great opportunity to win some money."
There was just silence for a while. I sad nothing all the while he kept looking at me.
"Um..." I looked at him and, for a while, just couldn't bring myself to speak up. "No, thank you."
"'No'?" He asked.
It seemed like I caught him by surprise, but after a little while I noticed something else in his eyes that I just couldn't seem to figure out. Some kind of amazement? Respect even? But there was definitely something that I couldn't label quite yet.
"There is definitely a catch." I smiled slightly. I would love to get some money, of course, but I know that it won't be that easy.
"Miss." The salesman smiled once again, his eyes surprisingly gently just like his voice as he spoke. "Would you like to play a game with me?
"Wha-What kind of g-game?" I found myself stuttering a bit. "Look, if this is some sort of sick perverted thing you're doing 'cause I swear if you try something, I am going to scream." I threatened, a newfound confidence overwhelming me.
He chuckled once more, "No, nothing like that, Miss."
All of a sudden, he quickly turned his face away from me as he reached to open his suitcase. I could swear that for a split second I saw him blush, but then I realized that I probably imagined it because there's no way. I mean, sure, he is very handsome, but the two of us are a whole world apart, too different from each other.
"I'm sure you've played ddakji before, right?" He spoke and I looked at the open suitcase that was resting between us.
There were a few piles of money on one side and two different colors of ddakji on the other side. Red and blue. I looked at him with surprise.
"You-You want me to play ddakji with you?" I asked, raising my eyebrow in question.
He nodded with a smile.
"For money?"
He nodded again, "Play a few rounds of ddakji with me and each time you win, I'll pay you a 100,000 won."
Damn.
I mean, sure, why not. I loved that game when I was a kid, and I didn't have a chance to play the game in what seemed like forever. Plus, if I win, I get money. It all seemed amazing, but then I realized what the problem with all of this could be.
"And what if I lose and you win." I asked, he continued to smile as he answered.
"Then you pay me 100,000 won."
"Sir, this is amazing and all, don't get me wrong." I gently said, "But I'm afraid that I don't have the money to pay you back."
"That is all right, miss." His smile unwavering. "We'll figure something else regarding that if it comes to it."
For a moment, I just sat there in silence, pondering the offer. But after a while I finally decided.
"Ah, sure," I sighed before matching his smile and meet his eyes, "Why not?"
"What color would you like to play as?" He asked me, taking both red and blue ddakji as I stood up. He followed me almost immediately.
"Red, please." I said and he smiled as he handed me the red ddakji.
As I reached for the red one that he was handing me out, our hands touched. For a moment we both froze, but then I quickly took the ddakji and moved away.
It was so strange. The feeling I got when I touched his hand. It was as if some sort of electricity went straight through me, forcing me to quickly move away due to the shock of it all.
He cleared his throat before extending his right hand, pointing to the floor, "You gotta first, Miss."
I nodded, and with that, he placed the blue ddakji on the ground, and I stood over it. I took a stronger hold of the red ddakji and stood up more straight as I glared at the blue ddakji. Goodness, I haven't done this in years, I thought to myself, letting out a shaky breath.
I took a deep breath.
I could feel his eyes on me.
I swang my arm behind my head before powerfully striking his blue ddakji. Apparently, I must have done something wrong because his blue ddakji moved but did not flip over. I let out a sigh, looking kind of defeated.
He stepped forward, grabbed his blue ddakji, and stood back up. I moved away, giving him more space, his eyes folowing my every move. Almost immediately, he swang his arm behind his head, slaming his blue ddakji on my red one, flipping it over with ease. I sighed as he turned to look at me, teasing smile making it's way on his face.
"So..." I spoke up, kind of unsure and slightly intimidated, "So what now? I lost."
"Don't worry about money." He spoke up, kind of surprising me with that one, "We'll discuss it at the end if that is okay with you, Miss?"
"Sure." I answered him, meeting his eyes.
His smile widened a little bit more as we, for a few moments, just stood there taking each other in. All of a sudden, he cleared his throat, snapping himself out of it.
"One more round?" He asked as he fixed his tie, I nodded, not saying a word.
Turns out, one round meant about five more. I lost every single round. It truly began to seem like luck wasn't on my side that day.
We got to the last round, the sixth one. I was getting annoyed, constantly losing. I took a deep breath. His blue ddakji stared at me, my red one locked in my hand. I flipped my ddakji over and decided that that was it. I swang my hand behind my head and delivered the most powerful swing yet. I stared at his blue ddakji and my red one as both of them flipped in the air before his blue ddakji landed on the cold floor. It flipped over... I won...
I couldn't help the laugh that escaped my lips as he gave me a little applause, smiling as I jokingly bowed.
"Wow," I chuckled, "I finally won the round."
"Well done, Miss." He chuckled lowly, but somehow so softly as he reopened his suitcase handing me 100,000 won. "As promised."
"Thank you," I said, taking the money, "but I lost like five times. Tell me, what can I possibly give you to make this even."
"How about you give me the pleasure of taking you out for dinner, Miss?" He spoke up almost shyly in a way that was so endearing, and even though it seemed like that look wouldn't fit him, it somehow did. "Only if you want to, of course."
"I..." I spoke up stuttering and blushing a bit, surprised by his offer, "I would love to."
After that interesting interaction, we went out to get dinner. I had a great time with him, and even though I hated to admit it, I started to like him. We talked on and on about random things. We were truly having fun and that made my day so much better.
Before separating, he gifted me a blood red rose, and he gave me a card that looked really strange. At the front of the brownish card was a circle, a triangle, and a square. I flipped the card over and saw what looked like a telephone number.
"Miss, there are other games like the one that we played where you can make even more money than you did. So much more." He started to explain, but his expression became different. His smile was gone and there was a sort of gloomy gaze in his eyes. That seemed to surprise him. "Think about it."
He stepped closer to me, looked me deep in the eyes before he started to slowly lean in. I found myself doing the same. Our lips met. We were just standing there, outside of the restaurant, rose in my hand, his hands on my face deepening the kiss.
As we parted ways, he told me that he hoped to see me again if I made it. Whatever that meant.
I took another look at the card that he gave me, staring at the number, not knowing that I will meet my childhood friend Gi-hun, not knowing what the games will do to both of us and to all the other people, not knowing the amount of money I was gonna win, not knowing that I will spend the next three years of my life chasing the man of my life, trying to haunt him down, not knowing how dangerous the last game that we'll play will be.
TAGLIST:
@shadow-tumbler
#squid game#squid game s2#squid game 2#squid game salesman#squid game x reader#the salesman x reader#the salesman x fem!reader#the salesman#salesman x reader#salesman#ddakji#squid game gong yoo#gong ji cheol#gong yoo x reader#gong yoo#gong ji cheol x reader#fic#Spotify
207 notes
·
View notes
Note
just reread ur freeuse reader and skz drabble but now all i can think of is skz who is freeuse imagine just being in public and just eating them out / sucking them off while they whine :33
did you ask for a MTL on who I think likes to be free-use? did I hear a yes? !!free use society ahead!!
most!
han!
lovely slut! he's sooo endearing and wants to be used anytime anywhere! you want him to finger you in the theaters? done! giving you head during a night out? yes please! but he gets so embarrassed when you do it to him. stroking him while he's trying to work on a song or when you're on double date? he's blushing so hard and he'd prolly beg you to wait until you get home. he secretly likes it tho. the way you keep a conversation with your fingers playing with his tip makes him leak so much
seungmin!
okay, please don't be shocked. I had to put him up this high. USE HIM. USE HIM. USE HIM. I'm tired of seungmin being a hard dom when irl I know he loves being rough-handled and used. he's a huge munch idk why that's such a strong belief I have. he'll do anything for you anywhere. ask him to fuck you while the members are over and he's putting you on the dinner table and drilling your shit unbearably good. the only limit I'd say is when he's working ? like practicing his vocals he just really need to focus and he can't do that when you're pretty legs are open just asking to be spread
hyunjin!
he worships you idk what you want me to say. he doesn't even view it as sex or something gross, he just wants to be close to you in the most intimate way possible (I think ive said this before). constantly rubbing your clit because he knows you looveeee that and kissing the curve of your neck because that also drives you insane. you honestly don't even have to ask hyunjin, he just knows when you need it because he knows you so well. that being said, he also would like his partner to be free-use too. he wants the passion to be equal
changbin!
I feel wrong putting him lower, but I think it's true. he's shy and he likes to keep things between you two, BUT he feels super prideful (as a Leo should) when you ask him for a favor. he's most comfortable with oral, but he underestimated how much you enjoy giving it to him. you wanna do it public??? he'll give in but he hides his blushing face in his hoodies and tries to keep him hips from bucking so much. if he gets super into it, he'll thread his hand in your hair and try pushing you deeper. I can only imagine how much his members coo like ugh I just know Felix watches almost enviously lmaooo
felix!
he actually really likes it! the reason he's lower is because he just feels uncomfortable sometimes. like, I don't think Felix enjoys that many people watching. especially if they're strangers. but if it's his members or friends? then yessssss use him! pull his panties to the side and do what you want! lol, but he just needs to be warmed up with the people around him. he would also love it if some members joined in on you using him. like maybe he's fucking you and someone's pinching his nipples or guiding his hips to fuck you harder. he really really likes feeling completely surrounded, so he's down for a whole orgy so long as he knows and trusts everyone.
jeongin
okay I was gonna put him last but then I was thinking and? he really likes fingering you. feeling your plush walls and if you're jerking him off too?? pure bliss. the members get tired of trying to talk to him when you're there cuz you end up whispering in his ear to play with your clit and it always ends with you two moaning into each other's mouth. or if someone's trying to talk to him and you get on your knees to suck him off, jeongin is so persistent like "Nono, keep talking im listening" and his fingers curl into your hair and he's trying to stay still because HE'S the free-use but holy shit your mouth is so warm and soft, he cums straight down your throat. but like I said, HE'S free-use, so you overstimulate him pretty often until the person he's talking to can't stand jeongin's high pitched whining and rolling eyes like - I need to stop
chan!
bandgie...did you really put him this low? yes and im sorry. but listen! he's shy okay??? he's a lady in the streets but a freak in the sheets! some things are for you and him and THATS IT. maybe a very small handful of people who he trusts can see but he's just really possessive. if YOU were free-use? that'd be different. like he gets to use you and everyone knows who you belong to, but him? what if people think you want another free-use bf? what if they think he isn't already owned? he worries too much BUT I do think he's similar to minho in that he'd eat you out and finger you, but sexsexsex? I mmeeaannnn if you ask nicely and bat your pretty eyelashes he would, but he would also give anyone the death stare that so much as glances your way.
minho!
he likes it, but like idk. he's down to finger you anytime, getting all your juices gushing down his wrist because he's genuinely the best finger-blaster on the planet, but full on sex?? he has boundaries. you want a quickie in the bathroom? okay yes he's absolutely okay with that, but even if it is a free-use society and it's accepted he just? he just likes keeping it low-key. BUT he likes people knowing he's yours. maybe an earrings or necklace with your initial. a hickey that never seems to go away. something to mark him as yours. but anything more than his hands or mouth publically is a limit
least!
#smut#poly!skz#skz smut#stray kids smut#stray kids#skz chan#skz#skz hard hours#skz hard thoughts#skz lee know#skz changbin#skz hyunjin#skz ot8#skz han#skz felix#skz seungmin#skz jeongin
158 notes
·
View notes
Text
Ish? I mean the short answer is yes. I have a stepmom because my dad started dating her when I was 8 and they got married when I was 11 and they're still married over a decade later.
The more complicated answer is that it's weird to think of her as a stepmom? We've literally always called her our stepmom. My dad and my mom and multiple other adults have referred to her as such. But:
I've always called her by her first name; never mom or any variation of it. I know a lot of people do that with their stepparents but to me that just made it harder to cement her as a parent figure in my mind. Especially since I've got so many godparents that I call Aunt/Uncle [first name] and I've been referring to my actual blood aunts and uncles by their first names since I was like 17 (not to their faces, but in conversation with other people)
She never really acted like a parent? She made dinner and took care of the house and worked and provided our health insurance (still does that last one tbh) but when it came to guiding us through our growing up years and protecting us from our dad's abusive tendencies she just... didn't do anything? She was there to have fun with us and to be married to our dad (and honestly I don't know why bc it's not like he's gorgeous or wealthy or some bleeding-heart generous activist).
She told my siblings and I that we were her one chance at being a mom because she couldn't have any of her own and dad absolutely did not want to adopt after already having 4 bio kids that he supposedly cared about 2 weekends a month, so I know she considered herself to be in the stepmom role compared to myself and my siblings, but honestly she always kinda felt like a fun aunt or a much older sister.
And I mean ultimately I'm estranged from my dad and trying to cut him off completely and the only reason I'm hanging onto him by a thread is because my stepmom provides my health insurance and it's really good health insurance and I'm chronically ill, but that being said I barely see my dad and stepmom, and once I'm at the point where I legally have to get my own health insurance is when I'll cut them off. That or after my stepmom's funeral, whichever comes first (she has stage 3 or 4 (I don't remember which) breast cancer). Because I would most likely go to my stepmom's funeral. Regardless of whether I view her as a stepmom or fun aunt or whatever, I do love her. I just wanna stay as far away from my dad as possible at all times and they're a package deal so it's always a struggle :/
We ask your questions anonymously so you don’t have to! Submissions are open on the 1st and 15th of the month.
851 notes
·
View notes
Text
MMMM THE WAY-
Fuck. The way I’d actually showcase my cunt to him.
TW:// smut so mdni! Switch!Sunoo x Switch!Fem!Reader, p in v, dirty talk, degrading as fuckkkk, possessiveness, talks of edging but not really detailed, not proofread as this was written at 1:11 am. UPDATE: proofread at 3:28 am
Not your fucking good boy.
“Please-“ he begs, his hands scrunching the bedsheets because you so cruelly won’t let him touch you. And normally he’d be a brat, but he actually wants to fucking cum.
“I don’t know. I feel like you can beg better then that.” You giggle, so happy he’s under your control. “You wanna cum?”
That question opens up a barrage of frustration-filled cries of desperation.
“Yes, oh god- please!” He begs as your hand speeds up around his shaft again before quickly letting go completely, denying yet another orgasm.
“Not good enough. Do you not want to cum? You don’t want to finally release?” You’re laughing, feigning a shocked expression.
“What do you fucking think?” His question stops your wrist moving, but he doesn’t really flinch. Instead, his larger hand grabs your wrist and flings it away from his cock, before moving up to your arm as he manhandles you under him. He straddles your stomach, annoyance covering his face. “Asking stupid fucking questions as if I haven’t been begging.”
He grabs your (his) shirt, pulling it off your body. Thankfully, you’re only wearing panties under, so your pretty breasts are on display. He then moves off you, ripping your flimsy panties off. You, out of instinct, go to close your legs when he wrenches them open, sliding himself in between, his hot throbbing cock resting on your clit.
“Sunoo- you’re not being a very good boy-“ your breath hitches as he slowly starts grinding over your crotch. “Right now.”
“Do you really think you’re in the position to say shit like that? I suggest you keep that dirty mouth closed before I put it to good use.” And for some reason, that shuts you up.
Sunoo pulls back far enough where his cock doesn’t touch your folds, until his fingers spread you entrance wide. With a quick thrust, he slams his dick straight in, quickly bottoming out. You exhale a whine elicited with pain mixed with pleasure. He just straight up groans.
“S-sunoo!” You gasp out, adjusting to him.
“Fuck, how is this pussy still so tight?” His voice is laced with whimpers he’s not afraid to let out.
“M-move.” Your hips don’t even get the chance to create fiction until Sunoo lowers, one hand clamped around your throat while the other comes to your face, fingers mushing your face as he stares into your soul.
“You aren’t making decisions anymore. All you can do now is lay here like the obedient slut you are and take my sensitive cock. It’s your fault I’m like this now.” After that, he begins moving, hips thrusting in short sharp japs, the sound of skin slapping against skin quickly filling the room. “Edging me, trying to make me beg as if I’m your fucking good boy.”
“You ar-are.” Your voice cracks, airway limited due to his hand grasping your neck like a necklace.
“And yet you’re not my good girl, are you?” The question irks you, wondering the last time Sunoo was like this. One particular thrust sends desperate vibrations straight to your pussy, clamping your walls tightly around his cock. “Fucking hell.” A breathy moan escaped from his chest. “This fucking pussy- is mine. All. Fucking. Mine- oh fuck.” Every word is followed with a hard thrust, jolting your body. “Who’s pussy is this?” He asks, feeling you squeezing him, signalling you’re going to cum shortly.
“M-mine.”
Sunoo stops moving, taking away the warm pleasure that’s been building. “Say that fucking again. I dare you.” His voice sounds dangerous, and you know better then to egg him on more. So you stay silent. That wasn’t going to suffice him either. “Who’s. Pussy. Does. This. Belong. To?” Short stabs abuse your g-spot. Pride and wanting to cum fight, but the latter wins.
“you. This p-pussy is yours.” More whines escape from Sunoo’s throat as he continues to relentlessly pound into you.
Sunoo scoffs. You went from smirking to begging quickly. “That’s right. Mine.”
@jyikeu THANKS FOR THE IDEA POOKIE
#enhypen imagines#enhypen fic#enhypen hard thoughts#smut#Sunoo smut#Sunoo x reader smut#sunoo x reader#Enhypen smut#enhypen
92 notes
·
View notes
Note
heyy your last drabble was soo nice and fluff i loved itt if you arent busy can you please do a fic where katsuki is a a single father to a 15 year old girl (reader had passed away-dunno how) and he was cleaning the house when he found something inappropriate like drugs or sum? i wanna see how katsuki reacts...and maybe if you like some agnst since reader is dead ya know?
WHAT IS IT WITH ALL THESE ANGST REQUESTS... THIS MAKES MY CHRONIC LONELINESS WORSE... nyways, i hope this meets your expectations and i hope you like it 💜💜
the bakugo household was unusually quiet that afternoon, the kind of quiet that made katsuki's instincts tingle. his fifteen-year-old daughter, keiko, was out with friends, and he decided to take advantage of the empty house to do some cleaning.
katsuki had always been meticulous when it came to keeping the house in order. after losing you, he had thrown himself into caring for your daughter, determined to be both mother and father to her. the house was a reflection of that effort—tidy, organized, and filled with small touches of your memory.
he reached keiko's room, the door slightly ajar. stepping inside, katsuki began tidying up, folding clothes, and organizing her desk.
that’s when he noticed something unusual sticking out from under her bed.
curiosity—and a sense of parental duty—took over. he reached down, pulling out a small, hidden box. his heart dropped as he opened it to find a small bag of what unmistakably looked like drugs.
for a moment, katsuki just stared at it, disbelief washing over him. his hand clenched around the bag as a storm of emotions swirled inside him—shock, anger, fear, and an overwhelming sense of failure.
he sat down heavily on her bed, the weight of the discovery pressing down on him. his mind raced with questions like: how did this happen? why didn’t i see the signs? where did I go wrong?
the thought of keiko, his little girl, getting involved with something like this made his chest ache. memories of her as a bright-eyed toddler flashed before him, the laughter, the innocence. now, it felt like he was losing her too, and he couldn’t stop it.
anger bubbled up, not just at the situation, but at himself. he had promised to protect her, to be both mother and father, to guide her through life’s challenges. and now this?
he ran a hand through his hair, trying to steady his breathing. "you’re better than this, katsuki," he told himself. "that little girl needs you. pull yourself together."
by the time keiko returned home, katsuki was sitting at the kitchen table, the small bag placed in front of him. the moment she walked in, she froze, her eyes widening as she saw the expression on her father’s face.
“dad…?” she started, her voice trembling.
“sit."
keiko sat down slowly, her gaze flickering between him and the bag.
“want to tell me what this is?” katsuki asked, his voice low but heavy with tension.
she opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. tears filled her eyes, and she looked away, ashamed.
katsuki took a deep breath, fighting the urge to explode. “kei, i need to know what’s going on. why do you have this?”
“i’m sorry,” she whispered, tears streaming down her face. “i didn’t use it, i swear. i was just…holding it for someone.”
his jaw clenched. “and you thought that was a good idea? do you have any idea how dangerous this is?”
“i know,” she sobbed. “i’m sorry, dad. i didn’t know what to do. they were pressuring me and it just—"
katsuki’s anger softened slightly at the sight of her tears, but the fear and worry remained.
“kei,” he said, his voice softer now, “i already lost your mom. i can't lose you too. we’ll get through this, but i need you to be honest with me, okay? you have to trust me.”
she nodded, wiping her eyes. “i trust you, dad. i-it's just, they were scaring me that if i didn't do it for them, i wouldn't be their friend anymore, and—"
katsuki sighs, looking at his daughter. her words... she almost reminded him of you. "i get it, kiddo. your... mom, was like that too."
keiko raised an eyebrow. its been awhile since he's mentioned you. he never really talked about you, but keiko knew he was thinking about you all the time. even if he didn't admit it.
"did... mom hide drugs for her friends, too.?"
katsuki's eyes narrow at her, clearly telling her it was way too early to joke about something like that. but, still.
"no. not that i know of, anyway. your mom was.." he sighed. "she tried her all too. to please her friends. even if they were shitty sometimes."
keiko raises an eyebrow, confused. "do you mean.. auntie mina and..?"
katsuki raises an eyebrow before exhaling, shaking her head. "no. as annoying your aunt is and the others are, no. its just.. old friends of your mom who didn't see her worth. took awhile before i helped her cut them off."
"what did.. mom's old friends do?"
"just..." he breathes, unsure how to go on. "lots of shitty things. always leaving her out, ordering her around..."
katsuki scoffs. "it was a dark place for her. even after i helped her out, she couldn't go to school without crying when she saw them."
katsuki sighs again, looking at her. "kei... as much as i love your mom, i don't want you to go through that too. she would hate that, okay?"
kei is taken aback by the new lore she finds out about her mom, not sure how to approach the multiple questions she has in her head.
"..what did mom do, when she cut them off? she didn't have friends back then?"
"yeah. your mom didn't have friends for awhile. eventually got into ua and met your uncles and aunts. and, well, me."
"what if.. what if i don't meet new friends, dad? what then?"
katsuki's chest panged a little at the thought of his daughter, all alone, with no one to talk to. but no. he wouldn't let that happen while he was here. but he knew a dad and a friend wasn't the same thing.
"kei... you have your whole life ahead of you. you're fifteen. you more than enough time to have friends."
keiko bites her bottom lip, unsure how to articulate her thoughts and worries to her father.
"dad... this is stupid, but... can we hug? its just... the last hug i ever got was probably when i was and—"
katsuki's heart squeezes at his daughters request, walking over to her daughter from the table and pulling him into a bear hug. it was awkward at first, but it eventually sizzled down into something bearable.
"even if you didn't have any friends, there's always izuku's girl and your uncle's twins... i know its not the same but i'm here for you, keiko. always."
keiko's eyes well up with tears again, hugging her father back. and as they stay there, katsuki felt relief despite knowing it wouldn’t be easy, but he was prepared to fight for his daughter’s future—no matter what it took.
#bnha bakugo katsuki#bnha bakugou#katsuki bakugo mha#mha bakugo katsuki#mha bakugou#katsuki bakugou#mha#bakugou katsuki#katsuki bakugo#bakugo angst#bakugo#bakugou imagine#mha angst#mha imagines#bnha drabble#bnha katsuki#bnha#bnha angst#katsuki x reader#bakugou x reader#bakugou katsuki x reader#bnha x reader#bakugo x reader#bakugo katsuki x reader#katsuki bakugo x reader#mha bakugo x reader#x reader#bakugo x you#bnha x you#x you
129 notes
·
View notes
Text
alright, we're on the third and FINAL part of me picking the boat scene to bits. you can find part one here and part two here
where we last left off, kant was going towards jumping in the water but he stopped and then we get this question from bison.
and the thing that gives me chills about this moment, aside from the absolute terror and pain on kant's face, is how softly bison asks this. almost like it's a genuine question. like he's offering help because kant is in a tough spot. but it's not a genuine question because he's trying to help - it's a threat. he's telling kant if he doesn't jump, bison will push him.
however, it's also quite an interesting question when you think about it in the context of love and their relationship. i talked a little bit about the setting choice in comparison to the fadel and style confrontation scene already, but lauren @sunsetsover once again had some wonderful additions which you can find here. basically, the difference in locations represents a lot of things, like openness and their intentions, but it also has to do with wants. bison wants love, has always wanted love, and he wants kant to prove to him that it wasn't all fake - even if right now he believes it was. so the question of if you want to jump or fall, it can also go back to how this all started for kant. he fell for bison, against every one of his intentions and instincts, he fell for him anyways. no matter how much he fought it, no matter how much he tried to stop it, he couldn't stop himself from falling for bison. but now, in a way, he's getting a chance to actually choose it. he's getting a chance to jump into love, to let himself die and prove to bison he did love him.
and he's going to, god he wants to do this one final thing for him, but he looks at the water and all he sees is himself, drowning as a child, crying out for his parents. and you can SEE IT in the last screenshot, you can see that kant is not THERE, he's not looking at the water in front of him, he's seeing the water from when he was a child and was drowning and it's HEARTBREAKING. you have to watch the scene yourself again and look at the sheer terror and heartbreak on his face in those few seconds because got it's just. it's so painful.
but bison doesn't know, or he doesn't care, and he wants kant to jump, so he yells at him, he shouts at him to do it. he's so angry and hurt and he needs to see kant do this.
so kant goes again, but he hesitates again and he looks at bison, like he's begging for him to change his mind. but it only takes a second for him to know, to realize he won't. that he will have to do this. that doesn't have any other choice. that this is the only way to prove himself and to try and make it up to bison, if he even can.
there's a moment of silent communication where bison nods his head towards the water to once again force kant to jump in.
so kant braces himself, pulls every ounce of courage he has left in him, and he climbs up, bison still yelling at him, and he jumps.
i'm gonna link you to a giftset the last few moments of the scene here that jay @kantpattanawat made because i think everything with bison in it is MUCH BETTER seen in motion and i also don't wanna run out of image space again sdkjsfdf
but kant jumps. terrified out of his mind, he jumps. for bison, for himself, because he thinks he deserves it, because he doesn't think he can save himself anyways. because at least this way he can show bison he chooses him. that he does love him. because bison threw his heart into the ocean and kant is going to sink to the bottom with it.
but bison didn't actually think he would. you can even see it on his face, right before kant jumps, that he's questioning if he actually will. and when he does, you can see the panic in his body language because holy shit kant actually jumped. and he shouts after him, like he's an idiot for it, and maybe kant is! but he did it for bison didn't he? because bison asked? and isn't that what bison's always wanted? someone that loves him enough to choose him, to listen to him?
so bison will jump in and he'll still make kant prove himself again, but i think this is the moment bison really forgives him. this is the moment he realizes kant was serious back in the hospital. that maybe it wasn't all lies. this is the moment their love story can really start.
#i'm done finally. jesus christ i need to shut the fuck up actually#the heart killers#kantbison#my analysis#mine
92 notes
·
View notes
Text
GUESS WHO'S BACK??? Happy new year you bone-loving weirdos (affectionately)!!! Let's start 2025 with Nona!!!
previously, in this react series:
we (I mean me, but also you, alongside me) finished harrowcita del 9
we read some short stories
I made a gideon craft as a gift and the person I made it for told me that the recap I wrote in the back made it to some discord server somewhere
my legacy is being unfunny
NOW LET'S START WITH NONA:
(that's how I called 2 of my great-grandmothers)
I decided to skip all the praise for the book because some of them were getting a little too involved with the story and I don't want to know anything, thank you very much
I did however read the blurb in the inside cover that I missed the last time
I wonder if at some point I could make like an audio version of a recap as I read, because my reaction when I read the following was Something, but then again you'd have to deal with my pronunciation of the names and idk if I want that
anyway, blurb says "with Pyrrha, Camilla and Palamedes"
???????????????????????????????????????????
I thought it was judith and coronabeer twin??????
I'm gonna change her name from regina george twin to coronabeer twin now because she outlived her other nickname
she's the only nickname graduate so far
who took palmolive out of the tamagotchi river loft???????
who set him loose????
how is phyrrha there, she was with gideon/harrow/gideonharrow fusion??????
"each night, Nona dreams of a woman with a skull painted face"
don't we all
the list of books says "Nona the Ninth" and so does the title in the paratext
instead of dramatis personae we have a guest list for a party
there are a lot of dogs invited to the party, which is nice
one of them has six legs
there's also people with BOE names
and one kevin, love to see it, I'll remember him
lots of meme potential there
there are some camilla annotations beside all the people from BOE allegedly nona wants to invite
still not seeing coronabeer and/or judith
gonna imagine that, wherever they are, they're making out
good for them
we got two poems after, the latter of which is a bit heart wrenching, I don't wanna ask about it
then we got a title that looks like a bible verse
had to google it and it is a verse about peter and a disciple finding jesus's tomb empty
ice cube barbie is locked tomb jesus confirmed
I've never mentioned this before but this has happened to me ever since book 1, and since it's here again I'm gonna say it
I have noticed I have a bad knee jerk reaction to the adjective 'fat' being used so often for so many things, but I'm trying to work thought it
don't wanna project my trauma onto unintended narrators
we got a summarized recount of events of what might be how emperor asshat and some of his lyctors got where they got from maybe present times???
there's talk about cryogenics for a lot of people and an evacuation plan from earth
and names are erased but we have some initials that could be augustine, mercygirl, cassiopeia and gideon
I don't think c is not!dulcinea because she was meant to be a newer model lyctor
during this recount he's in the beach alongside harrow, who he says he's gonna hurt
harrow apparently says she still loves him
gideon would be kicking him in the nuts
also, I thought the emperor was with yandere twin
what the hell happened between the two books???? where's everyone????
DAY ONE (hot sauce and 5 days until the tomb opens) CH 1
we've got a recorded statement of what feels to me like the Pool Situation Wink Wonk You Know The One
is she harrow??? or is harrow in the river with the emperor and this is a new person???? who is this????? is harrow's soul in the river???? where is gideon's perfectly preserved body that we knew camilla was carrying around with coronabeer and judith???
I don't know anything
but my wife is here, so it's all good
also, she's apparently sharing a body with palmolive now
so now the wife ideal turned into a polycule situation, I guess
didn't have that in my 2025 cards
I have two hands, apparently, idk
turns out, palmolive was somehow freed from his tamagotchi loft in the river and placed in camilla's body so they share it
how? by who? when?
glad you asked, I don't know
they're sharing space now, that's all I know
it's kind of like the lyctors should have been if the emperor wasn't an asshole, I guess
because it seems they can also switch easily and like coexist without totally cutting the other one out
it feels a lot healthier and organic in their relationship, even though palmolive is a soul guest
palmolive says camilla's body is a temple, so I'm glad we agree
pyrrha is also there, I assume taking over og!gideon's body fully, since he died, afaik
they're taking care of nona, who doesn't know who she is and they don't seem to know either, but if she has harrow's memories, I don't know what to tell you
they're living in a complicated militarized situation with few resources and little light use
palmolive thinks he could write explicit materials for a living but camilla doesn't want them to be remembered for that
palmolive wrote a lot of Things to his bae in correspondence, so maybe that's already part of his legacy
nona is sent to her room while palmolive and pyrrha argue about BOE acting weird
camolive want to rescue people, pyrrha thinks it's a bad idea and wants to get nona away from the planet
pyrrha also mentions a "she" that's crazier than camilla and makes references to commander wake me up when september ends but that one died???? twice????? so idk who this new "she" is
let's remember, for the record, that both og!gideon and pyrrha were Intimate with commander wake me up before we go go
apparently there are more people who are planet refugees in this one planet than two houses combined
which doesn't surprise me in the least, because that's how oppression often works, but is good to have it confirmed
heralds are also still a problem and camilla wants to fight them
pyrrha thinks that's a bad idea, because there's data of that not being possible
but she doesn't know that camilla hect is perfect and can do everything right always
it is important for me to clarify that, more than anyone ever in this book series, nona is the true definition of what in my land we refer to as: "está en un cumple"
the literal definition of the phrase means "she's in a birthday party"
the idiom definition is that someone is totally unaware of what is going on, without understanding what's around them, often used for people in a content state while unaware of a problem everyone else is worrying about
I truly think it's a very good way to describe her and I can't translate it in a way that feels the exact way, especially due to the party context
I headcanon her wearing this shirt
she also wants to save the animals, while camolive want to save the people
pyrrha is just tired and wants to retire to a farming planet to live in peace
I get it, though, imagine having to serve emperor asshat for so long
poor cavalier deserves some rest, og!gideon had the right idea when he exited the entire situation
saw an out with that fight in the river and left the chat
pyrrha is also worried about BOE capturing and torturing camolive for interrogation
and there seems to be an underlying plan between camolive and pyrrha that I'm not entirely sure of yet
nona, apparently, goes to school, because she's in a cumple, as previously established
going to school on top of the eye in the sky and the military issues and the social strife and the potential torturing doesn't sound ideal but very glad there's still an education system in place among all that
AND THAT'S IT FOR NOW!!! It's proving a bit complicated to do recaps with a paperback but I'm gonna try to find my footing!! See you on the next one!!
89 notes
·
View notes
Text
across the hall - chapter 2
you all have anon to thank for this LMFAO i must have written the first part in a fever dream because i genuinely had no recollection of making this
anyways sorry for the wait + i hope this lives up to your expectations!
WC: 1500ish
you jiggled your door handle again with the hope that it would open by sheer force of will. evidently, your telekinesis skills needed work, because it didn’t even seem to consider unlocking.
with a huff, your forehead came to land against the wood of your door with a soft thud. after contemplating the helplessness of your situation, you fish your phone out of your pocket and stare holes into the delivered sitting under your text to alyssa.
she was supposed to be home by the time you got back, so originally it was “no problem” if you left your key in the room. 20 minutes prior, though, she’d texted to inform you that she would not in fact be home because her tinder date had decided to move the time up.
you hope he's a catfisher.
it wouldn’t have been such an inconvenience if you hadn't already spent your entire day at the library. now you were exhausted, and had no clue when you would finally get to sink into your shitty mattress.
the floor was looking more enticing by the minute, and you were about to resign to sleeping on it when a voice rang out behind you.
“locked out?”
your heart stopped. this could not be a more humbling experience. every star in the sky has aligned just to screw you over at 9:45pm on this friday night, and paige bueckers is an active participant in your downfall.
she’s going to think you’re an idiot, but what are you going to do, lie? oh, no, i just thought the wall looked comfy.
“yeah,” you answer, turning to face the woman you’ve been avoiding for the last week. the instant eye contact has you fumbling for words a little. “i, uhhh.. well my roommate – well i left my key.. my key is in the room and my roommate is not,” you finally finish.
you’re waiting for the floor to swallow you.
paige tilts her head, nose wrinkling a little as she smiles at you. she looks amused. “so, whats your plan? teleport?”
you hum, glancing sideways at the door. “it crossed my mind.”
she’s still smiling when she gestures towards her own door. “well, if you don’t wanna sit out here all night, my roommates out. no superpowers required.”
your eyes widen – you think you’ve misheard her. “your room?”
paige laughs this time, opening her door. “well one of us has a key, and it’s not you.”
you hesitate. is paige morally obligated to let you into her room now that you’ve dragged her into your disarrayed state? are you morally obligated to decline?
she must be a mindreader, because she steps to the side and nods her head at the door. “i promise i’m literally just gonna watch game reruns tonight. you can hang out as long as you want.”
you finally nod appreciatively. “yeah, okay, thanks paige.”
you slip past her, politely taking your shoes off at the door when she shuts it behind the two of you, a glint in her eye. “you a fan?”
you eye her suspiciously. “i’ve seen some games.”
“i just find it interesting you know my name–”
“oh my god,” you roll your eyes, the smile pulling at your lips betraying you. “maybe i should’ve just stayed in the hallway.”
“oh, because the vending machine is so much better than me.”
“it’s got food,” you mumble, moreso trying to get on her nerves than make a suggestion. she takes the bait anyways, looking mock-offended.
“i have food!” she immediately reaches for her mini fridge. if you weren’t already in such an unbelievable situation, your jaw would’ve dropped at the contents.
“paige, this hardly counts as food.” the “food” in question is reminiscent of a teenage boy's “gym fuel”. “everything in there has to taste like cardboard.”
“i play D1 basketball!” she scoffs, like she can’t believe you would suggest her chocolate chip cookie dough quest bar might be unappetizing. “you have a lot of attitude for somebody who locked herself out of her room a week into moving in.”
you sit down on someone's bed, (you can’t really tell, because both walls are lined with basketball posters) and grin, leaning forward onto your knees. “okay, you’re right, i’m sorry. but i’m still going to pass on,” you wrinkle your nose in distaste, squinting at the fridge. “legendary foods cake?”
“for legendary players,” she shoots back. you must’ve sat in the wrong spot, because paige throws herself down opposite of you and pats the space next to her. “KK’s kinda weird about people bein’ on her stuff, so..” “are all basketball players this high maintenance?”
paige hums. “just us, i think.” “thank god.”
you move despite paige’s scowl, pressing yourself close to the edge of the bed. silence apparently never lasts long with paige, because she immediately drawls out, “sooo,” and then continues, “what are you doing alone on a friday night?”
you roll your eyes. “waiting for my roommate to get home, apparently.”
“you guys together or sum?”
you laugh. “uh, no, she’s on a date tonight. hence the locking out.” paige hums, eyes trained on the TV. “just haven’t been invited to any good parties recently.”
“i don’t think there are any – ion’ even know where KK went tonight.”
“it’s still early in the year.”
your mind drifts. you hate small talk. paige gestures towards the TV, a celtics v. bulls game from years ago rolling. “can you play 2k?”
much better.
you argue for a minute over who gets to play as the lynxes (paige finally relents, saying something about being drafted somewhere cooler and then choosing the wings of all teams) and then the first match starts.
right off the bat, she was bragging over a 2-pointer. “this games over already, y/n, you can put the controller down.”
“yeah okay, keep that energy when i drop 20 on you.”
after a flashy dunk you were particularly proud of in the second quarter, you grinned at paige. “you want me to clip that for you? you can start a highlight reel for me.”
she rolled her eyes, leaning closer to the TV. “doesn’t matter how good you look doin’ it if it’s still only two points.”
you falter only slightly at her how good you look.
by the fourth quarter, you were embarrassingly down 8 points. the last 6 minutes had been rough – not because you were bad at the game (because you weren’t) but because in the excitement of one of her riskiest plays following through, paige had shoved your shoulder and shouted “boom!”. unfortunately, she hadn’t moved away after that, and you could practically feel the heat radiating from her body.
it didn’t take long for her to call you out. “bro, why is your defense so bad? do i needa show you where the buttons are?” she reaches over, mockingly gesturing at your controller. you stiffen a little at the contact. jesus, pull it together.
“touching the player in real life is totally a technical foul in 2k.” you laugh out instead, tilting the controller away.
thankfully oblivious to your hesitation, paige laughs incredulously. “okay, now you’re just making shit up.”
at 12:00am, your phone buzzes between the two of you. paige glances down first.
“is that your roommate?”
your heart sank. after two rounds of bickering over 2k, you were beginning to hope alyssa would be out late. she wasn’t, though, and her contact photo was now bright on your screen.
you’d abandoned her playstation after paiges second win (you’d stubbornly pointed out that it was her job to be good at basketball) and paige had turned on love and basketball instead, calling it tragic that you hadn’t seen it. the end credits had been playing for a hot minute now though, and you were really out of excuses to not go back to your dorm.
“yeah, it is. apparently her date was super hot.”
paige smiles. “good.”
theres a beat of silence (something you’ve discovered is rare with paige), before you finally shift in the bed. “thanks for letting me crash.”
she jolts a little, watching you get up. “oh, yeah, no problem, anytime.”
before you reach the door, though, paige is up with you. “hol’ on,” she starts, thrusting her phone towards you. “well, actually,” she doubles back, bringing it back to herself. “um,” she starts again, eloquently, and you raise an eyebrow at her fumbling. “give me your number – in case you get locked out again.”
“i gotta get locked out for you to play 2k with me?”
“no!” paiges eyes widen and you decide to have a little mercy on her.
“relax, i’m just messing with you.”
she gives you a bone-dry laugh in response. “ha, ha. give me your number, f’real.”
thank god for hot tinder dates.
#paige bueckers fic#paige bueckers x female oc#paige bueckers x reader#paige bueckers x y/n#paige bueckers x you#paige bueckers x oc
83 notes
·
View notes
Text
M. FUSHIGURO ⋆ no more running.
pairing ⋆ guilty!megumi fushiguro x reader
summary ⋆ megumi cant be close to you anymore at all. hes avoiding you, and you dont know why. it hurts. missing your friendship, you are determined to find out why hes doing this.. ending in a unique relationship
warnings ⋆ fluff, fluff, fluff !! one sooort of spicy kiss heh :P also lowkey angsty.. poor gumi thinks hes hurt you but you prove him wrong ! we love y/n <3
wc ⋆ 2.56k words
a/n ⋆ awww the cuties ! i love gumi sm omg my adorable boyfieee, anyways enjoy ! i lowkey dont like this buttt :((
the warm glow of the setting sun stretched across the training grounds as you and nobara exchanged quick strikes, the air sharp with the rhythm of your sparring. you moved effortlessly, feeling the rush of energy, but something in the corner of your vision caught your attention. megumi stood at the edge of the field, his posture tense, eyes fixed on you. you knew exactly where his gaze was: the scar on your neck, a permanent reminder of that day.
you couldn’t help the tightness in your chest. you’d never asked him about it, never pushed him, but you knew it weighed on him—that day. the day he was trapped inside his own body. the day he killed two people he cared about the most. the day he hurt you.
"hey, fushiguro," you called out, your voice light, teasing, but there was an edge to it that betrayed your curiosity. you paused mid-motion, turning toward him with a grin as nobara glanced at you knowingly, heading toward her water bottle where yuji was standing. "wanna spar?"
for a moment, megumi didn’t respond. his eyes stayed on you, but they were unreadable, heavy. his jaw clenched. when he finally spoke, his words were quiet. "no thanks," he muttered, his gaze flickering to the scar on your neck, then quickly darting away. "i’m… busy."
you bit your lip, sensing the guilt in his tone. it was almost like he was afraid to be near you, and that stung more than you expected. he’d been distant these past few days, but maybe it was just a one-time thing. maybe he really was busy. you smiled, brushing it off.
"busy with what?" you asked softly, the teasing edge in your voice. "you don’t seem to be occupied, fushi."
"with—uh. itadori. me and itadori were heading to the… uh… store," he mumbled, looking anywhere but at you.
you frowned, your eyes shifting to where yuji was chatting with nobara, totally unaware of the tension between you and megumi. he was holding out a towel for her, laughing as she tossed her empty water bottle at his head. you smiled softly at the sight but then turned back to megumi.
"yuji… seems busy with his own things," you murmured, watching him shift under your gaze. his eyes avoided yours, and you couldn’t help but notice the bead of sweat rolling down his temple. maybe it was just sixteen-year-old-boy things, you thought, trying to convince yourself. but it still stung a little.
"oi! itadori! get the hell over here!" megumi called out, his voice rough, as if he couldn’t get away fast enough. yuji scrambled over with a pout, and megumi grabbed him by the collar, pulling him along hurriedly as they left.
you frowned after them, a strange mix of confusion and something else stirring in your chest. why was he avoiding you? why did it feel like he was running away from something that had nothing to do with the store?
this wouldn’t be the last time. over the next few days, you’d start to notice little things. his avoidance grew clearer. texts would go unanswered for hours, or when they were answered, they felt curt. and every time you tried to ask him to hang out, there was always an excuse.
you decided to reach out again, despite the growing frustration in your chest.
you hey fushiguro! wanna hang out today? maybe watch tangled in my dorm for the millionth time?
you smirked to yourself. tangled was your favorite movie, and you knew megumi wouldn’t be able to resist.
megumi can't, got stuff to do. sorry.
you frowned at your screen, your grip tightening imperceptibly, your smile fading.
you oh, okay. well, tell me if you change your mind!
megumi yeah, sure. maybe.
you stared at the message for a while, the vague response gnawing at you. megumi had always been blunt, but he never seemed to shy away from hanging out before. so why now? what was he busy with?
you walked to the dojo early, hoping to catch megumi before his training session. as you approached, you saw him deep in conversation with yuji and nobara, laughing about something—you couldn’t hear exactly what, but their laughter seemed genuine. when you stepped into the room, the conversation stilled for a moment.
megumi didn’t turn to greet you. he just nodded quickly, his eyes darting back to the floor. yuji, on the other hand, waved at you, totally oblivious to the tension.
"hey, you finally here?" yuji grinned. "we’re just talking about our next mission."
"yeah…" you said softly, but your eyes flickered back to megumi. "hey, fushi, wanna train?"
he hesitated. too long of a hesitation. then, he mumbled something you couldn’t quite catch.
"um, maybe later. i think i have a… thing," he said, trailing off before turning back to yuji.
your heart sank. thing? was he just brushing you off again?
you hey. you still up for tangled? we don’t have to do that if you're not comfortable, of course! i just want to hang out.
megumi no, sorry.
you oh. okay, ig.
megumi sorry. just been busy. i didn’t mean to make it awkward.
you it’s fine. just… if you don’t want to talk, it’s okay. no need to make excuses.
you stared at the messages for a long time. the words felt like a punch to the gut, but at the same time, they made your chest ache. what did you even do? was he avoiding you because of that day? the day when he hurt you? was he punishing himself for it? or was he just… shutting you out?
you walked down the hallway toward the dorms after sparring, your body still buzzing from the fight. nobara had gone off to take a shower, and yuji was probably somewhere being loud, as usual. but tonight, something felt different. you couldn’t shake the feeling that megumi had been avoiding you more than usual.
as you passed the common area, you noticed the dim light spilling from the small courtyard outside. curiosity pulled you in that direction. the quiet night was starting to settle, and everyone else was winding down. there, leaning against the stone wall of the courtyard, stood megumi.
he didn’t notice you at first. his shoulders were tense, hands shoved deep in his pockets, and his gaze was lost in the shadows. he looked almost… distant, like he was trying to escape from something. but you knew—you knew—he wasn’t running from the world outside. he was running from you.
you paused for a moment, your thoughts racing. then, despite every instinct telling you to leave it alone, you stepped forward. gravel crunched softly beneath your shoes as you approached.
"fushiguro," you called, your voice cutting through the stillness of the night.
he flinched like your words had startled him. slowly, he turned his head, but not enough to meet your gaze right away. his eyes lingered on the ground, and when they finally lifted, they didn’t seem to focus on you. they flicked up, then down again.
"hey," you said again, trying to keep your voice steady. but there was something shaky in it you couldn’t hide. "are you gonna keep avoiding me?"
there was a long silence. then, he spoke. his voice was low, strained. "i'm not avoiding you."
you raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms. "really? 'cause it sure seems like you are."
megumi shifted uncomfortably against the wall, his gaze drifting away again. "it’s not like that."
you could feel your frustration building. every time you tried to reach him, he shut you out. you stepped closer, standing just a few feet away. your voice grew sharp.
"then what is it? why do you keep pushing me away?"
he hesitated, his jaw tightening, then finally met your eyes. guilt and something darker swirled in his expression. the same guilt he’d been carrying since that day. the day he hurt you.
"come on, fushiguro! this is stupid! why are you doing this? don’t you realize it hurts me?" your voice rose, frustration spilling over.
his gaze flickered to your neck, the scar still fresh, and for a moment, it looked like he might say something. but instead, he stepped back, his shoulders tensing.
"god, just—just shut up!" he hissed.
you stopped talking immediately. the words stuck in your throat.
"don’t you realize? i can’t do this anymore!" he exploded, his eyes wild with frustration. "i can’t just—just watch you knowing what i did!"
and in that moment, you knew. he wasn’t just avoiding you. he was fighting something inside himself.
you took a deep breath, stepping forward, your pulse quickening. "fushiguro… i…"
but before you could say anything else, he was already walking away, his steps quick and purposeful. leaving you standing in the cold silence.
you stood there, the words still hanging between you, unspoken, unanswered.
and then you moved.
one step, then another, quickening your pace until you were right behind him, fingers brushing against his shoulder.
"don’t touch me!" he snapped.
you recoiled, hurt flashing across your face. so, he had yelled not once, not twice—but now three times. at you. you couldn't breathe, the question on your lips strangled by confusion and pain.
"what did i do wrong?" you whispered, almost to yourself.
megumi glanced away, a sharp look of anguish in his eyes. "i can’t. i can’t do it. i can’t come near you, talk to you, touch you, look at you."
you frowned up at him, confused. "can’t do… why?"
"i can’t go a day without thinking about what i did to you!" he hissed, voice breaking. "i see that scar, and i beat myself up over it. i… i can’t look at it. i can’t even spar with you. i can't… even stand my hand being this close to yours."
without thinking, you reached out, gently taking his hand, giving it a soft squeeze. you looked him in the eyes, your gaze tender. "look," you murmured, cupping his calloused hand with your own. "is this hurting me in any way?"
he didn’t answer.
you brought his hand to your face, cupping your cheek with it. "am i hurt?" you whispered, eyes closing for a moment, savoring the warmth of his touch. you felt his thumb twitch as it brushed against your skin. you leaned into it, your breath catching. "am i hurt, fushiguro?"
you stood there, the weight of his hand in yours grounding you, as the silence stretched between you. his thumb brushed against your scar, and you could feel the tension in his body, the way his muscles were taut as if he were about to break. you could see the guilt clouding his eyes—heavy, suffocating. you knew what he was thinking. he was terrified.
"you're not hurting me," you whispered, your voice quiet but steady. you brought his hand to your cheek, pressing it gently against your skin. "see? you're not hurting me, megumi."
he didn’t say anything at first, but his breath hitched at the touch. his eyes flickered between yours, searching for something—maybe an answer, maybe reassurance. his thumb gently caressed your jaw, and you felt your heart race in your chest.
he opened his mouth as if to speak, but nothing came out. instead, his gaze shifted to your neck—the scar that was still so fresh, the scar he couldn't bring himself to look at. you watched his jaw tighten, his gaze drifting downward like it always did when he was avoiding something he couldn’t confront.
you took a small step closer, your fingers brushing over the back of his hand, encouraging him, urging him to let go. "megumi," you whispered again, this time a little more gently, "please… look at me."
his chest rose and fell with every shaky breath, and for a moment, you wondered if he was going to pull away. but he didn’t. he stayed, standing there in the quiet of the night, his body so close to yours that you could feel the heat radiating off of him.
slowly, carefully, his hand moved to your neck. his thumb brushed lightly over your scar, and you could feel him flinch, just a little. but then he stopped, his hand hovering over your skin, like he was afraid to touch it too much. you gently guided his fingers down your neck, showing him that you weren’t afraid.
"megumi," you whispered, your voice softer this time, "i’m not afraid."
his gaze finally met yours, and you saw it—the hesitation, the guilt, the regret all etched in his features. but underneath all of that, you saw something else, something raw and vulnerable that made your heart ache.
"i’m so sorry," he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. "i can't… i can’t stand seeing it. what i did to you…"
you shook your head, a small smile forming on your lips. "megumi, you’re not the only one hurting. but i’m not afraid of you. i never was. i never will be."
he swallowed, his hand trembling in yours. he was close enough now that you could feel the warmth of his breath, could hear the soft hitch of his breath as his eyes flickered down to your lips.
you closed the distance between you, your heart pounding in your chest as you lifted your other hand to his face, cupping it gently. "look at me," you whispered again, your voice barely audible. "please."
he did. and when his eyes met yours, everything else seemed to fade away. there were no more words, no more hesitation. just the soft, steady rhythm of your breaths as your faces inched closer.
he leaned in, your lips brushing against his. it was tentative at first, just the barest of touches, as if he were still afraid that he might hurt you. but when you didn’t pull away, when you leaned into him, the kiss deepened. his hand found the back of your neck, pulling you closer, his other hand sliding to your waist, holding you as if you might disappear.
you let out a soft gasp as you melted into him, the kiss growing more urgent, more desperate, as if you both needed this, needed to feel the connection, to feel the warmth of each other’s presence after so much distance. his lips were soft against yours, and you could taste the mixture of fear and longing that had been building between you for days.
when you finally pulled away, breathless, you rested your forehead against his, your heart still racing in your chest. you could feel his pulse under your fingertips, his breathing shallow as he tried to steady himself.
"megumi," you murmured, your voice barely a whisper. "you’re not the only one who’s been hurting. but i’m here. i’m not going anywhere."
his eyes were wide, almost searching, like he couldn’t believe what had just happened. his thumb gently traced your jaw, his touch tender now, as if he were finally allowing himself to feel what had been building inside of him.
"i’m sorry," he whispered again, his voice cracking with emotion. "i didn’t want to hurt you. i don’t ever want to hurt you again."
you smiled softly, bringing your hand to his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your palm. "you won’t," you said simply. "i'll say it again. i’m not afraid of you, megumi. i never was."
the tension between you had finally broken. and in its place was something deeper—something real, something raw. you didn’t need words anymore. all you needed was him, and you knew, in that moment, that he needed you too.
a/n ⋆ nonnie ! ty for this req, this was so fun to write ! i honestly had trouble at the start butttttt omg the fluffy moments near the end made my heart melttt <33 i hope this was what you were looking for !
i heart the way megumi cares soooo much for yn but just wont admit it :( he literally says it but so indirectly yk ?? like he toooootally doesnt care..
thank you for reading, ily ! lmk if you wanna be tagged and remember, reqs are always open loves !
© evergumi
#megumi#megumi fushiguro#megumi x y/n#megumi x reader#megumi fluff#jjk megumi#megumi jjk#fushiguro megumi#megumi fushiguro x reader#jujutsu megumi#megumi x you#jujutsu kaisen megumi#fluff#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#jjk oneshot#jjk fluff#jjk x y/n#fushiguro#fushiguro x yn#fushiguro megumi x reader#idk#boyfriend#megumi bf#boyfriend!megumi#bf!megumi#fem!reader#male!reader#angst
74 notes
·
View notes
Text
Girl Dinner
@pedrospookie made the cutest fucking mood board for this fic, she also gave me so much inspiration for this! Let's all thank her for her perfect brain.
Part 1 of 4- Knocked Loose
Rating: explicit -
kidnapped!Joel x isolated&unhinged&potentially crazy!reader (no use of y/n, no physical descriptions besides having hair long enough to hold and fall into your face, the reader is actually crazy, talks to herself- hears little voices in her head. You gotta know this going into it)
thanks to @bonezone44 for this idea.
w/c : 9k (whoops)
Summary: After the civilized world you once knew came to an end-- the men that survived... well they just take, take, take. Growing tired of having things taken from you-- you have a hankerin' to take somethin' for yourself... and make him perfect.
warnings/tags: non-con/dub-con/ altered mental state(?) throughout the entire thing. stockholm syndrome, violence (reader and Joel both get hurt) Joel is an unwilling participant... or is he? cockwarming, unprotected P in V, dirty talk- more to come.
authors note: Hey! I know a lot people get icked out by the idea of non-con or dub con, and that's fine, but I like it, so I'm gonna write this. I don't think any of this should be acted out ITRL. DON'T KIDNAP PEOPLE!! This is your last and final warning just so everyone is aware of what's going on. this is unbeta'd, poorly proofread and probably incoherent. I love you all so, so, so much.
The weather is finally starting to change, it's not as hot as a pigs asshole anymore, and you wake up feeling refreshed, rather than sticky and sour from sleeping in a pool of your own sweat all night long.
The first thought that comes to your head though isn't the changing weather, or how you'll eventually need to break out your warmer clothes soon, nope— you don't give a shit about any of that.
It's just Mister-man that you're thinking about.
He might be the most pretty thing you've ever seen. With his shoulder length, brown and gray curls, and his patchy facial hair that matches so nicely. The thought of how rough and scratchy it would feel against your tongue makes your spine tingle.
Mister-man is a big boy. Hefty, broad, and looked so strong whenever he came into the mall.
You've been watching him for a while. He comes around every three or four days snooping in all the stores for supplies.
It's like he doesn't even know you're here…or if he does, he doesn't care. Rude! You're a pretty girl!
He's just coming to take our stuff, just like the rest of the monster-men out there. If he finds us, he might wanna take-
"Stop, stop, stop, stop, stop!" You put your hands over your ears, even though those voices just get louder when you do that.
Mister-man wouldn't hurt'chya…
Yes, he would. He's a man.
"It's too early for this," You grumble, sitting up in your bed.
The mattress store is nice and clean, just how you left it last night before you crawled into bed. You think about how it would be alarming if it wasn't exactly how you left it before you went to bed. You did your nightly walk-through to make sure everything was where it was supposed to be, and that there weren't any extras hanging about.
As you get dressed, you think about what the dark voice was about to say. You know exactly what Mister-man would try and take from you if he found you. What all the other men in this fucking place want from you.
It's hard to make any of that matter as you skip to your hiding spot in the rafters above the food court. That's where he always enters from, even though the easier entrance with less glass and boards to climb through is on the other side of the mall.
It's a good thing you set up a trap there too, if he comes in through that entrance, at least you'll hear the snare go off and hopefully get to him in time to get his gun and knife.
Mister-man is a creature of habit, he doesn't like to switch things up, Sug. He'll come through this door.
He might. He might not. Mister-man might be playing your game better than you, kid.
"Well then, it's a good thing I thought of everything," you murmur, climbing up the discarded scaffolding to get into the rafters.
It's not scary up here, you like the thrill of knowing if you made one mistake—
Goner!
Splat!
"I've never fallen though!" You giggle, settling in to the perch just above the now blown out glass doors. It's a comfortable little spot, and you've arranged some blankets and pillows from the mattress store up here so you can nap if you want. There are some snacks, and bottles of water in case you have to stay up here for more than just a couple hours, keeping an eye out for Mister-man.
People must have stayed here in the mall during the outbreak, or right after because the doors are boarded up the best they can be, and the tables and chairs from the food court are set up all around like a barricade.
It was perfect, less work for you to have to do, and no one else bothers to come in here anymore— it's either too far, too hard to get too, or not worth the pay out.
Not for our lovely, handsome, soon to be perfect, Mister-man; the reason he comes every week is so sweet.
You wondered why he kept coming back when there really isn't much to scavenge anymore: every single store had been picked through before you got here, and you went and took the last of whatever anyone else didn't want or need and squirreled it away in a nice hiding spot.
Mister-man came every three or four days-- so that he could sit his ass in a comfortable recliner for a couple hours.
Remember that time he took a nap?
"Of course I do! How could I forget?!"
It's the cutest thing, and you love to watch him relax. Rest. Let his guard down for a little while.
"Slept like a lil baby that day," you mumble, feeling the heat spread up your neck and behind your cheeks. It's impossible to not smile at the memory of Mister sleeping in his chair, arms behind his head, snoring loudly.
His hair was real soft...'n he smelled so..
Why does he let us get so close? It's gotta be a trap.
Oh shut up, maybe he wants us to get close!
"I don't think he can hear me too good," you breathe out to the empty mall. The sun is starting to shine directly in your eyes— which means Mister-man will be here soon. "Always lookin' over his left shoulder. He never looks over his right, me thinks he can't hear outta that ear."
Mister has been coming for a couple months. He first started when the snow started to melt. And he kept coming through the spring when everything was wet and soggy, and he'd traipse mud through the mall like this wasn't your house!
That's how you knew he had been there though, so you waited to see if he'd come back-- and he did.
Mister-Man kept coming, even when the summer got so hot it was almost unbearable. Venturing outside was almost dangerous, but Mister always came.
Just to sit in his chair.
The air is filled with the sounds of birds singing, and insects buzzing in the lazy, summer heat. The mornings aren't too bad anymore, but the afternoon is still sweltering.
The late afternoon's are even worse when the heat finally settles, and everything gets sticky, and feeling all wet even though it's not wet outside! It's hot, but the air feels thick and damp somehow.
Awh, looks like he ain't coming today, Sug.
Good-fucking-riddance.
"He'll show up. If not today… tomorrow…or the next day. Or next week! He always comes, sillies. Gettin' me all nervous for nothin—"
Shhhhhh!!!! He's coming.
Mister-man is coming. You can hear him before he even crawls through the hole in one of the boards. He has to slide the table he sets up every time he comes and goes.
Once he's upright, brushing himself clean of any debris that he might have picked up on his crawl into the mall, he starts to walk.
It's not hard to stay quiet, you know exactly where the spots that creak are, and where things might break and fall apart if you were to put too much weight on them.
It's easier to follow him around as he slinks through the abandoned shopping center than you thought, as long as you stay on his right side. You've been watching and learning, and had a long time to figure him out.
Mister is so cute, walking real slow with his back to the wall, his head on a constant swivel. You wanna call out to him and tell him it's just the three of you in the mall.
He continues to sneak very quietly.
Can't hide from us.
"He sure can't," you giggle, almost silently.
Mister-man pauses, and looks over his left shoulder, as if something caught his attention. He looks all around, head twisting in either and all directions. At one point, he looks right up at where you're standing.
It's like he's looking right at you, like he can see you flitting through the rafters right above him.
Mister-man just shakes his head, as if he was hearing things, and continues onward towards the furniture store.
Fuck, he really can't hear for shit.
"He sure can't."
Mister doesn't make it inside the furniture store today, unfortunately for him.
When Joel wakes up, his head is fucking pounding and— he's upside down. Shit.
Not again.
"What the fuck?" Joel croaks, his hands feel like they weigh a thousand pounds as he tries to lift them from where they're dangling over his head. His shoulders hurt, and his back aches. His ankles feel like they're on fire.
There isn't much he can do but hang here, waiting for his vision to un-blur and for the throbbing in his head to go away.
Probably get gutted like a pig.
Finally, after blinking a million times, Joel can see things clearly.
You- a young woman- with a gun in your hand, another strapped to the outside of your thigh, and a fucking machete strapped across your back.
"What the fuck are you doing!?" Joel shouts, his hands now easily flying to the holster—It's empty. The pack he had been carrying on his back is gone too.
Joel watches as you look at him like he should already know what you're doing: a half smile plastered onto your pretty lips, the crinkle at the corners of your eyes, your head tilted to the side ever so slightly, couching in front of his pack.
"Lookin' through your stuff," you croon to him.
Joel's blood boils. What the fuck are you doing? Who the fuck are you? How did you manage to get him all strung up, hanging from the ceiling?
He says nothing as you stay picking through his backpack, taking out every single thing he has in there. His map, compass, the backup flashlight, the gas-mask— which you're putting on?
Why? There weren't any spores in here— were there?
"This thing is fuckin' cool!" Your voice is muffled, and you stand up straight. Then you hold your hands out at your sides, and spin in a circle.
"Hey!" Joel barks at you, flinching away from the revolving barrel of your pistol with each rotation you make. "Stop swinging that thing around, would ya'!?" Joel shouts as you continue to spin.
You stop suddenly, and stare at him through the big, dark lenses of his gas mask. "You know all about swinging around, don'tchya?" You giggle at him.
Joel literally swings back and forth as you say this, very slowly spinning around as he sways, and the throbbing in his head only makes him more angry.
"Cut me the fuck down, keep what'chya want— I don't got time for all this," Joel grumbles, lifting his head so he can look at the rope tied around his ankles. It's a good knot, and without a knife, Joel isn't going to get down on his own, not without his knife.
He reaches behind him to feel for it on his belt—
"Lookin' for this?" Your still muffled voice questions Joel as his fingers brush across the empty space on his waist where his knife would be.
He tips his head almost all the way back, and then to the side so he can see you— and is greeted by the sight of you, still in the gas mask, and now, holding his knife by the blade with your thumb and index finger. All he can do is sigh, close his eyes and wonder how a trip to sit in his favorite recliner led to this.
"Now, I ain't really wanna hurt'chya— I was hopin' you was gunna say knocked out long enough for me to cut'cya down and—"
Joel doesn't wanna hear anymore. "Just cut me the fuck down— people are gon' come lookin' for me if you—"
You apparently don't wanna hear what Joel has to say anymore either, because you start to talk over him. "—we're just gunna go—"
Joel doesn't care, doesn't want to listen to your muffled voice— he wishes you would take his stupid, fucking gas mask off and talk to him like a normal person. He's gotta be able to barter with you somehow. "—don't let me go. If it's food 'n water ya' want, I can get ya' some—"
The two of you are just talking louder, and louder, until the both of you are shouting over the other, neither one of you actually hearing what the other is saying.
"—let me go!"
"—stay forever!"
The two of you stop and stare at each other in silence for a moment. Joel can't really comprehend what you just said, "Stay forever?"
"Yep!" You exclaim happily.
Did he say that aloud?
"You 'n me, together forever, Mister-man," you sigh dreamily at him.
It's not what you say, it's how you say it— like you really believe what you've just said. Like…it was something you had been thinking about, for a while.
"Huh?" Is all he can say, still slowly swaying and spinning. He has to turn his head almost completely around before he whips it to the other side, he wants to keep his eyes on you at all times. You seem un-fucking-predictable.
"Ain't'chya so excited!?" You squeal, and it makes Joel's head ache.
"Gon' fuckin' strangle you once I get down from here," Joel half grumbles, half chuckles under his breath. He crosses his arms over his chest, watching you rummage around for something in his bag.
"That's why I gotta do this," your muffled voice sounds sad as you pull something out and whip it behind your back, hiding it, and that makes Joel nervous.
"Do what?" Joel tries to see what you pulled out of his backpack.
"Gotta close your eyes," you shrug your shoulders, and rock back and forth on the balls of your feet.
Joel blinks at you, just staring at him through the gas mask. He's not completely unsettled by the sight of you in a gas mask, he's seen women wearing them plenty— it's the fact that you have him completely at your mercy and he can barely see your fucking eyes.
He's so fucking stupid for coming out here alone all the time, Tommy and Ellie both warned him- both told him that something would happen to him out here. He'd hurt his back— or worse. And no one would know where to find him- because this was his secret hideaway. A place to escape the responsibilities of being a dad, a grandpa, and a big brother.
Joel loves Ellie, JJ and Tommy more than he ever thought possible— and loves that he got to be around them everyday— it was just starting to be a lot.
If Joel had the means to move that recliner into his house in Jackson, he would have— but it's too big, too heavy and way too fucking far.
Now look at him, upside down!
"Ya' ain't gunna wanna see it comin'." You give Joel a small warning. "Please just close them," you whine, starting to nervously dance on your tip toes.
"No." Joel growls, arms still crossed over his chest.
"'Kay!" You exclaim, running over to Joel. "Warned ya'!" You pull the brick Joel had put in his pack for emergencies.
"Wait! Wait—"
Cripes-all-mighty, Mister-Man is heavy as hell!
It takes everything you have inside of you to drag him to the mattress store. By the time you get there, your shirt is soaked through with sweat, your hair clings to your forehead and the side of your face. Every muscle aches and feels as if it's being torn from the bone it's clinging to.
Huffing and puffing, you drag him through the sea of mattresses until you get to the staircase that leads into the basement office.
"Sorry, Mister-Man," you grunt and push him down the stairs—
He's fine! You lined the stairs, and the bottom where he landed with mattresses a couple days ago-- after you brought his favorite recliner down here. All by yourself. Did it just for Mister-Man, because you want him to be comfortable! You want him to feel nice, and relaxed, and safe here with you.
Once you have him nice and secure to his chair— you wait.
He hit his head pretty hard when you snared him— you didn't think of that part. Then he had to go and wake up! Like a dumb idiot! He could have just stayed asleep, then you wouldn't have had to hit him again!
Thank goodness for that brick he keeps in his backpack, which, what the fuck is that about? It's a good weapon, but it's heavy, and made his backpack harder to carry than you would like to admit.
You were also lugging that giant of a man around, ya' did good, Sugar.
Yeah, ya' did good, kid.
You wrap your arms around yourself and sigh, "Thanks."
You wanna tell the voices in your head that you love them, but you don't really always love them. Sometimes you hate them, and wish they would shut up, and sometimes they don't talk when you need them to— finicky fuckers! And they almost never see eye to eye, and it's exhausting. So you just say thanks.
Mister-man is so pretty up close. Even more pretty than you could have ever thought or dreamed of. He doesn't look like he's shaved or cleaned up his beard in the last couple days, and his hair was combed back away from his face when he got here today— but now it's a mess, matted to his forehead in drying blood, falling into his eyes.
"Shit," you whisper, taking in the sight of him all beat up—
Sug, you gotta clean him up— make him pretty again.
The sweet voice is right!
Mister-man looks so sad all bloody and a mess.
"I'll be right back," you murmur and press a gentle kiss to his forehead through his blood stained hair, and then double check all of the ropes around his wrists and ankles.
He's secure, time to go get him lookin' nice again.
When you come back, your bag is filled to the brim with supplies from the the multiple stores that still have things inside them. You got him a comb, and a spray bottle that you already filled with clean water. You were able to find some clean clothes that look like they'll fit him.
He's also awake.
"Hi, Mist—"
"Let me go."
"—er-man!" You finish through the interruption. "I'm gunna clean you up now, and then we can have dinner. 'Kay?"
Mister-man stares at you.
"Oh!" You rip the gas mask off and place it on his lap. "Sorry, I wasn't trying to steal it. I promise." You cross your heart with one index finger.
"Let. Me. Go."
You wince with each barked word. "I. Don't. Wanna."
"If I ever get outta here, m'gon' fuckin' kill ya'," he growls.
You frown, pinch your eyebrows together and mock his thick, country twang. "M'gon' fuckin' clean ya' up real good, 'n then me 'n ya' can have fuckin' dinner." You growl back at him.
"Shut th'fuck up, untie me—"
"Why!? So you can kill me?" You shake your head at him, giving him a small smirk. "Not gunna happen, Mister."
His eyes go wider than you've ever seen them, as if he might be nervous. "What th'fuck you gon' do to me then, huh?"
"Clean. You. Up. Then. Have. Dinner. Did I say it too fast the first time, or can you really not hear too good?" You cock your head to one side, and look at him quizzically.
"Th'fuck did ya' just ask me?" Joel feels his chest going tight-- this hasn't happened in fucking years. It can't be happening right now.
"I talk real fast sometimes, and I don't realize it, and so sometimes all my words come out real jumbled to--"
"'Bout my hearin'?" Joel's working overtime to suck the air in, to bring precious oxygen to his brain. His head is still pounding, and now he can't fucking breathe, and he can't even imagine what kind of sick, twisted shit you're going to do to him.
Joel watches your eyes drop to the ground by his feet, and it's almost like you pull your body in on itself somehow, retreating into a place where you're trying to hide from him in plain sight. "I been watchin' you when you come in here... just act like you can't hear all that good outta your right ear," you say in a voice so small Joel can barely hear it.
"Watchin' me?" Joel scoffs.
Who the fuck are you? How long have you been watching him? How come he's never seen you before? Never even seen a trace of another person around here, just the stray raccoon or possum.
Joel's blood boils when you nod your head at him, still unable to look him in the eye. "Ya' should be ashamed. Whatever it is ya' wanna do to me is probably fucked--"
"I'm not ashamed," your voice snaps, and finally you lift your head to meet Joel's gaze. "Not even a little."
"Actin' like it," Joel's voice is snappier, and louder, and it makes you flinch.
"Maybe a little embarrassed--"
"Ashamed, fuckin' embarrassed, same fuckin' thing." Joel rolls his eyes at you.
"Not really," you shake your head from side to side and raise both of your eyebrows at him. "Not at all, actually."
"Would you shut th'fuck up?!"
"Would you shut th'fuck up..." You mock Joel. "I'm tryin' to do somethin' nice for you, and you keep telling me to shut the fuck up!"
"Do somethin' nice f'me?!" If this wasn't almost thirty years after the fucking apocalypse happened, Joel would think he was on some hidden camera show.
"Yeah!" You hold out the supplies you had brought back from wherever the fuck you had run off too while Joel was unconscious.
"Doin' somethin' nice would be lettin' me go, sweetheart." Joel switches his tone- does something he wouldn't normally do in a situation like this.
Your eyes light up. They crinkle in the corners a little, like they did the first time he saw you, but you're not upside down this time. The corners of your lips are trying to curl up, but you're actively trying to stop them.
"Don't call me that, 'less you mean it."
With the comb, water bottle and first-aid kit in hand, you take your place behind him and inspect the wound.
It's a surface wound, but dirty from the brick and still very bloody.
It's a painstaking process, because you don't want to be the cause of his pain anymore. Not ever again if you can help it.
Really, that's up to Mister, but he'll find out on his own soon enough! He just has to play nice, be sweet and kind— be the Mister you want him to be, and he'll be perfectly happy here with you. Life here with you in the mall could be perfect! He just needs to be perfect. He's almost there, he just has to keep his mouth shut.
He's not quiet, not at all. He hoots and hollers at you to stop, to let him go, that he's gonna gut you like a fish if he ever gets free from here.
The way he talks, his voice feels like the deepest note on a piano, or the thickest string being plucked on a guitar. It vibrates in the spaces between your ribs, and forces all the air out of your lungs when he talks.
He's taking your breath away... how romantic.
The sweet and airy voice in your head is right, he is taking your breath away. You wish he would stop saying those mean and terrible things to you-- they're making you hurt inside, where your stomach is.
Guilt. You should just kill him right now--
"Hurt him?"
Mister stops shouting, and raises one eyebrow at you.
Look'it those big brown eyes. Like a baby cow. All wet 'n big, kinda scared lookin'.
Ugh, shoot him right between those beautiful brown eyes, kid. You can do it.
He ain't hurt you yet, Sug...
Because she tied him up--
As she should, she's gotta feel him out a little, make sure he's really not gonna hurt her.
How is he ever going to hurt her if he's tied up?
"Okay, enough!" You almost shout-- there they go! Never seeing eye to eye, making things harder than they needed to be!
"I'll yell all I fuckin' want," Joel does holler, loudly. So loud. He's going to draw attention.
"Do I need to get the brick again?"
Joel stops shouting.
He really can't hold back the pained sounds coming from his throat as you attend to his wound.
You're being so, so gentle!
He's acting like a giant baby.
"M'hurtin' you?" You mumble as you drag the damp cloth along his forehead carefully, cleaning the moderately large gash you left there with the brick. It's swollen, and bruised now... you feel so terrible.
He'll forgive you, Sugar.
Mister-man doesn't say anything, he just flinches away from your touch for the millionth time.
"M'sorry, didn't mean t'hurt you this bad." You slowly start to work the comb through his hair, spraying it down with water when you needed to. You're careful to never pull on his hair too hard, and work the tangles out meticulously so you don't bring him any more discomfort.
"Got'chu some medicine." You reach into your pocket and pull out two white pills.
"I ain't takin' nothin' y'give me, fuckin' crazy bitch." He grumbles.
Mister watches you walk around to the front of him, and kneel between his legs.
"S'just regular," you hold your hand up to his face so he can inspect the pill on his own. "Nothin' strong like they had in the QZ's," it's a gentle explanation as he studies the medicine in your palm. "Can find some for ya' if you wanted me to, m'real good at findin' stuff."
"Find it in your heart t'let me outta here," Joel gives you the sweetest, crookedest smile that makes you stomach feel like it grows ten sizes, and your heart feels like it's racing something else inside of you.
There are sweet wrinkles in the corners of his eyes, and the lines on his forehead deepen, and he has the softest dimple on his left cheek.
Sug, he's so pretty.
Kill. Him. Before. He. Kills. You.
"So pretty," you catch your bottom lip between your teeth, and rest one of your elbows on his knee, propping your head up on the heel of your hand. The pills are still right in front of Joel's face, and his eyes flash between them, and your face.
"Not takin' them" he grumbles, twisting his head away from your hand.
"Suit yourself," you put the pills back into your pocket, dipping your head down to press a soft kiss to his knee. "M'gunna go get us dinner, I'll be back."
Joel stares at the tray of food you set down on the table you dragged over to be directly in front of him.
"Where's the protein?" Joel looks up at you from the plate of crackers with peanut butter, a small bowl of raspberries, two packets of expired pretzels you would get on an airplane, and a full bottle of labelless whiskey.
"S'in the peanut butter," you say through a mouthful of your own cracker.
Begrudgingly, Joel opens his mouth when you hold a cracker up to his lips. "Where's the meat?"
The crackers are dry, and kind of stale somehow? The peanut butter is still nice and creamy, just the way Joel remembered it before the outbreak.
"Where would I find meat?"
Joel pinches his brows together and blinks at you. "Ya' live in the woods, got a gun or two-- fuckin' know how to set a snare--"
You gasp softly, and rest one elbow on the table and point at him with a lazy index finger, "You 'spect me to go out there and kill an innocent lil friend? They ain't ever done nothin' t'me. Why would I go out 'n hurt 'em when I ain't got no reason to?"
Joel continues to blink, trying so hard to keep his eyes on you and not the ropes you have him tied down with so tightly they're starting to dig into the skin on his forearms-- painfully.
"Ya' kiddin', right?" He watches as you place a raspberry directly into the peanut butter on the cracker and hold it out for him.
"Issa good combo, try it." You nod your head at him, urging him to open his mouth.
Joel doesn't want to, doesn't want to give you the satisfaction of knowing he needs you, and is going to keep needing you until you decide to kill him, or set him free.
He opens his mouth though, because Joel hasn't had a raspberry in years and he loves them, and the sight of that plump, juicy berry sitting so comfortably in that pillow of delicious, creamy peanut butter is making his stomach rumble. Loudly.
"Want some?" You hold up the bottle of whiskey, screw off the cap and take a swig. "See, it's safe," you look at him through your lashes, and give him a one-corner-of-your-mouth-smile.
Joel nods his head, because what else was there to do if he was going to be a prisoner here? He tried so hard to free himself of the restraints while you were gone, but you know how to tie a knot, and Joel just ended up giving himself rope burn.
An hour later, Joel feels pretty good, but not good enough to forget the situation he's in, but the booze is making you very chatty, and he might actually be enjoying the conversation.
"'N I get power from the solar things up on the roof, I think."
"Ya' think?" Joel smirks at you, he can't help it.
"I dunno how the solar works," you exclaim, holding one hand towards the ceiling. "It's the sun and black screens," you give the ceiling the middle finger and groan. "Barely works when the sun is out-- I just wanna watch my movies--"
"What kinda movies ya' got?"
He wishes he never asked.
You're sitting between his legs on the floor-- reaching behind you to feed him raspberries, never taking your eyes off the screen.
Joel thing's about biting your fingers off, thinks about taking the tips right off with his front teeth.
What would you do if he did that? Joel is still tied up, and he would just have raspberries and bloodied fingertips in his mouth, and then possibly a crazy, unpredictable, angry woman who would try and kill him.
Joel has seen angry people every day for close to thirty years... he knows what they look like, what they sound and act like--- you don't sound or act angry.
"Love this part," you sigh, leaning back into him, and resting your head on his knee.
Joel looks up to the screen, watching Cinderella transform into her beautiful ball gown.
Joel wishes he could reach out and run his fingers through your hair.
No he fucking doesn't? What the actual fuck? What did you put in the food, or the whiskey to make him feel this way?
Joel clenches his hands to fists on the arms of the recliner, and tenses his jaw-- grinding his teeth in the process.
You continue to drink throughout the movie, and when the credits are rolling-- you stumble to your feet, and then into his lap.
"Get off'a me," Joel gripes as you nuzzle your nose against the side of his face.
"Just wanna cuddle," you murmur, curling yourself up into his chest, yawning sleepily. "F'just a lil bit."
"Get off'a me, ya' fuckin' nut!" Joel shouts, and regretfully, tries to headbutt you.
His cheekbone, the side of his nose and part of his forehead connect with the top of your skull in a dull, aching thud.
You scramble off his lap, and fall to the floor, one hand holding the top of your head where Joel had just whacked you. The right side of his face is throbbing, and he thinks his nose might be bleeding, or he's crying- he doesn't know- he doesn't care. He just wants to go home.
"What the fuck!?" You shout back at him. "Mister, I ain't been mean to you at all, minus the brick- okay? What the hell is your problem!?"
Joel can't help but laugh, it starts off as a chuckle, but quickly matures into full on guffawing. "Y'fuckin' insane, ya' know that?" Joel rumbles through his fit.
Through the tears in his eyes, Joel can see you glaring at him.
Okay, he hurt her, can she kill him now?
Sugar, he ain't mean it... not really... he just needs some time to adjust.
He could have really hurt her, are you serious?
He's just nervous! Give the man a break--
Tired of giving men breaks- tired of letting them get away-
"Both of you, knock it off." It's a stern warning to the voice as you glare at Mister.
He stops laughing and blinks at you. "Huh?" He cocks one eyebrow up high, "Both o' ya?"
His question doesn't register, all you can think about is how disappointed you are in him.
"I was gunna let'chya sleep in the big bed with me," you huff, climbing to your feet. "Ain't gonna do that no more."
"I ain't wanna sleep in the big bed with y'crazy fuckin' ass, anyway!" He screams at you.
"What're ya' bein' so fuckin' mean for? I cleaned ya' up, made ya' pretty again-- fed you dinner 'n shared my drink with you!"
Do not cry! What're you doing!? Don't let him see you cry! Get out of here, right now!
The dark voice is right, the burn in your nose and the sting in your eyes are tell tale signs of tears- and you hate them. Hate the way they make your face wet and sticky, hate how they make your heart hurt, hate how your head feels like it's ten pounds heavier when you get done crying.
He'll come around, Sug. Gotta give him some time. If ya' stay nice-- it'll happen sooner than you think.
"I like bein' nice," you murmur, not taking your eyes off Mister.
"Th'fuck are you talkin' about!?" He exclaims, eyes wide, almost obsidian with rage and confusion.
"G'night, Mister. We'll try again t'morow."
Mister doesn't rest, doesn't relax, doesn't settle down at all.
When you open the door to his room, he's still screaming his head off.
"Hey!" You shout back at him, grabbing his attention. "We got raiders 'round here. We got infected movin' in and outta here all the time-- you know how fuckin' loud you are?"
"Hopefully they all hear 'n come runnin'. I'd love to see you get torn to shred-"
"'Kay, m'real sorry ya' feel that way. Even sorrier that I gotta do this."
Mister doesn't stop fighting you the entire time you shove the bandanna into his mouth. He even bites down on your index and middle finger as you stuff the last corner of fabric between his teeth.
Hit him.
It happens so fast, you don't have time to stop yourself from the back of your hand connecting with his cheek.
"Now, you gunna play that game? I can play, too," you inspect your finger and the deep indentation he left that's already starting to bruise.
The duct tape is hard to rip, and you need to use your teeth to cut a strip to go over his mouth.
Mister is mumbling something around the bandanna, but you can't understand him, and honestly are still mad about your fingers-- they hurt! Really bad!
"Glad I still got that medicine... I'm gunna fuckin' need it!" You dig around in your pockets and look for the two white pills. Your fingers throb while you look, the sensitive skin; tender to the touch as it brushes against the fabric inside your pockets.
Mister glares at you with his almost black eyes.
"I'm sorry!" You find the pills, throw them into your mouth and swallow dry. "I'm sorry for hurtin' you. I do not like doin' it, I mean it." You take a couple steps towards him, and drop to your knees between his legs again.
Mister watches, his whole body still as you rest your head on his knee again.
"Just want ya' 'round. M'sorry," you close your eyes, not wanting him to see them fill with those traitorous tears. "Jus' real lonely out here. Miss havin' someone t'talk with...'n snuggle up to at night."
The fuckin' duct tape makes it impossible for Mister to say anything--which is the worst. You wanted someone to talk with, not at.
"I'll take the tape off in the mornin', and we can try again over breakfast, 'kay?"
Mister doesn't make a single sound for the rest of the night.
Joel is drunk again. Fuck, this is never good.
You're in his lap, knees on either side of his thighs with one arm around his neck, your head resting on his shoulder. There is something about the way your fingers twirl around in his hair at the nape of his neck that feels good. Too good.
"C'mon, get off'a me," Joel groans, but there's no passion in his voice. It's been almost three weeks of just this, and he doesn't hate it. Not when he's drunk.
Honestly, he barely dislikes it when he's sober, but he's better at acting like he doesn't want you on his lap when he hasn't had a drink that night.
How can he not like it just a little bit? You're soft, and warm, and fit so perfectly on his lap it's like you were made to be there.
"Couple more minutes, Mister. Please?" You fucking whimper,
The sound floating through Joel's ear canal sends a shiver down his spine, and directly into his cock. It twitches in his jeans. He's got to start thinking about baseball, and carpentry work, and how he's probably going to die soon.
Nothing works. Joel can feel the heat from your cunt through the thin fabric of your shorts, and his hands have been tied down to this chair every time you're not around. The only time you let him up is to use the bathroom-- and you have a gun while you wait for him the entire time, so he's never horny then!
And, as thankful as Joel is for this- you've never even looked at him like that. You look at him like you're in love with him all the time, but you've never once looked at him like you wanna touch him.
Joel tries to push his hips further into the chair, away from the perfect, searing heat of your middle.
"Where'ya goin?" Your voice purrs in his ear, your fingernails ghost across the skin on his neck and he shivers again, his cock feels it tenfold.
You feel it now, too.
"What're ya'--" you pause to look between your bodies, and then your eyes flash up to his. "That f'me?" You're whispering, and your glassy eyes are wide, and look so flattered.
"Ain't for nobody, stop lookin' at 'em," Joel grumbles, again, not really meaning any of it even though he should mean every single word.
"'Em?" you question him with your big, wet eyes and his cock twitches again.
Joel swallows hard, his eyes falling to your bottom lip clutched between your teeth, and nods. "Him, yeah, whatever you wanna call it-- ain't for you." He sighs softly.
"Why not?" you sink down further into his lap. The thin shorts you have on to wear to bed do nothing to keep your warmth contained. It's almost like Joel can feel what it would be like if you just whipped him out and sat-
He's never drinking with you again. Never again.
"Get off'a me," Joel leans forward gently as you lean into him, the tips of your noses touch softly.
"Gunna bite me if I kiss ya'?"
Joel is a goner, your breath smells sweet like raspberries and whiskey and every single thing about you is warm and soft-- Joel knows that if he wasn't fucking drunk he'd be fighting you tooth and nail, but he cannot right now.
He can't think about anything but what you'd feel like wrapped around him, milking him.
"Take'em out," Joel is the one to lean into the kiss, his lips aren't hesitant, or tentative at all when they meet yours. He is going to try and bite you- and he does, he nips at your bottom lip, but gently. He pulls back with it still bitten, and listens to you moan softly.
The quickness of your fingers isn't your friend, you struggle with his belt for what feels like an eternity as you push back against his kiss, eagerly slipping your tongue into Joel's waiting mouth.
Joel groans low in his throat when you wrap your hands around his girth, and then chuckles at your shocked gasp when you pull away to get a good look at him.
"He ain't gon' bite'chya," Joel teases, leaning forward, searching for your lips again.
"Might split me in half," you moan, presumably at the thought of Joel stretching you open.
Joel can't contain his own moan as you put the image in his head. "Fuuck, sit on him-- lemme feel ya'."
The sound that leaves you makes Joel throb in your hand, "Ya' want me t'put 'em inside?" You whisper, the silky smoothness of your hands on him, stroking him so slowly is making his head spin.
"Jeeesus, yes-- fuckin' c'mon- do it," Joel lets his head fall back against the recliner, and watches as you pull your shorts to the side, and lift yourself to hover over him. "C'mon..." Joel eggs you on in a whisper. "Y'can do it, crazy girl."
"Don't call--" you pause when you notch the head of him at your entrance. "--me crazy."
Joel groans loudly as you sink down and let every wet, soft part of you engulf him. He throbs again when you whimper and whine, eyes clenched shut, your hands grasping at his shoulders as you inch your way down his length.
"Ow, ow, ow," you whine, leaning forward to rest your head on Joel's.
He could headbutt the shit out of you right now, but fuck, the way you're looking at him, with real tears in your eyes, not just from drinking.
"Hey, ya' doin' real good, sweetheart, keep goin'-- nice 'n slow," Joel encourages you, because he doesn't want it to stop either. "Jus' like that, crazy girl."
God damn, is crazy pussy always this good? He wouldn't fucking know, he wouldn't ever get involved with you if he knew you back in Jackson- but out here, after almost three weeks with you... it's hard to deny the physical needs of a man. And you're so fucking soft and wet.
The two of you groan in unison when you fully seated. The velvet walls of your pussy are fluttering, and clenching around him as you adjust to his length.
"You're so big," you hum, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to his lips. "Didn't think ya'd wanna do this," you whisper into his mouth. "Wasn't gon' take it from ya-- don't like that."
"Take what'chya need from me, whenever ya want it, shit," Joel tries to buck his hips up into yours to give you what you want but you whine in protest.
"Still hurts."
Joel settles his hips and leans into the best he can being tied down, his fingers grip the armrests of the chair tightly, groping it like he would be groping you if he could.
"Untie me," he murmurs while grinding up against you, not pulling out of you at all, just letting you feel him, letting you open up around him so it'll start to feel good.
"No," you nip at his bottom lip now, but you suck it into your mouth and tease him with your tongue as your walls start to rhythmically clench around him.
"Fuck, ya' doin' that on -ur-ose?" Joel groans with his bottom lip still being lapped at, The feeling of your tight, wet sucking him in deeper somehow- like it's fucking bottomless almost makes him come right then.
You pull back, his lip slips from between your with a wet pop "Mhm, ya' like it?" You clench harder around him and then release, and then do that over, and over again.
"Fuckin' untie me, wanna touch you- gotta feel how soft ya' are all over, c'mon," he's begging, he needs to feel the swell of your ass in his palm, or one of your tits spilling between his fingers as he grips you.
"No, you'll just try 'n leave me-"
"No, no, no-- I'll stay 'n... uh.. I'll... um- uh--oh, I'll play nice wit'chya" Joel racks his brain with anything that he could say that would possibly give him a chance at being able to really touch you.
"Lyin' t'me," you moan, and Joel throbs inside of you.
"Not lyin'-"
You pull back from his face at an alarming rate, and you scan his face slowly, as if you were drinking in every feature, savoring the flavor-- Joel watches you swallow hard and imagines that it's his load you just took down--
"Untie me, let me touch ya' a lil bit," Joel whispers, keeping his eyes locked on to yours. "Make ya' feel real good, promise." Joel licks his lips as he watches you struggle internally with the decision. "C'mon... gotta feel how soft ya' are, crazy girl. Just one hand."
"Fine."
You stay seated in his lap, his cock still throbbing inside of you as you work on the knot that will free his right hand. He's trembling in the anticipation of it all.
As soon as the pressure is gone off his wrist, Joel reels his arm back as far as he can, and sends it flying forward with as much force as he can muster after not eating meat for almost an entire month.
You scream as his fist connects with your right eye, and go flying to the floor.
Joel might be completely sober right now, and he knows he needs to move fast before you get up and probably shoot him for lying to you, and then punching you.
Yep. Shoot him. Shoot him right between his perfect, brow, baby-cow eyes. End it.
The dark voice in your head is right, but it's almost impossible to think about anything else but the pain shooting into your brain from your right eye socket.
"You motherfucker," you sob. The pain is electrifying- and you can't even see out of your right eye anymore!
That was your least favorite eye!
Kill. Him.
When you sit up, Joel is working on the knot around his left wrist.
You stumble to your feet, holding your hand over your eye trying to keep the actual ball in, in case it falls out, and walk over to the table with his book bag on it. You rummage around until your fingers wrap around the item you're looking for.
When Joel sees what you're carrying, not even attempting to hide it behind your back, he quickens his efforts on the knot.
Your left hand isn't your dominant one, but your right is busy keeping your eyeball in your head because it most surely got knocked loose or something.
You have to whack Joel twice before he goes unconcious.
"S'what ya' get for almost takin' my eye out!"
While he's still asleep, you take this opportunity to cut the jeans he's wearing off of him. You carefully unbutton the green and red flannel he was wearing and slip that off of him fully intact.
Once he's fully secure, with a new restraint around his chest to keep him fully pinned down to the chair, and the bandanna and tape back around his mouth-- you shut all the lights off, every single one, and leave him down there to think about what he did.
He's gonna learn to play nice, and if he wants to play rough first... so can you.
The air is thick with tension and stench of his sweat and fear.
The big-guy should be kind of scared- you didn't want it to come to this, but he just cannot participate nicely!
You circle your Mister-man slowly, drinking in every detail of him. His broad chest heaves with ragged breaths, muscles taut and straining as he fights against the restraints for the thousandth time.
No matter how hard he struggles, he cannot break free. Oh boy. Mister-man has some big feelings about it, and he's trying to let you know.
He is struggling— like, so fucking hard, against his bonds that tether him to the chair, that are cutting deep into the skin on his wrists. It's unfortunate, but he keeps wriggling around! If he just stopped, it'd all be fine!
You lean in close, pointing to your right eye, which is still black and blue, but thankfully not as swollen anymore, and frown at him. "This hurt!" You exclaim. "It hurt so bad, and you said you were gunna play nice. Why'd ya' lie t'me?"
His eyes are blown wide with fury and desperation. But he cannot respond, not really, his voice is saying things, but it's muffled by the duct tape stretched tight across his mouth.
He's still clad in only boxer shorts, a thin gray t-shirt, and socks, he looks vulnerable and exposed.
It really shouldn't be so hot-- but it is. You can't stop thinking about what he said the other night.
"Take what'cya want from me, sweetheart. Whenever you want it."
You wonder if he really meant that, because he punched you in the face right after.
But... he got excited! He wanted it, Mister-man kissed you first.
Oh Sug, he's down bad.
Please kill him. Shoot him right now, then you can just move to a different part of the mall. It's very simple.
He's really mad; which makes no sense! He punched you right in the eye! What is he mad for!?
"I thought after three weeks you'd be begging me to take you upstairs, Mister," you purr seductively, taking a step behind him, out of his line of sight. "Instead you hit me!?" You give Joel a good thwack against the side of his head with your open hand.
Not enough to really hurt him— that's coming soon— but enough to let him know to cut the shit. It's getting old, and now you want a fun, willing participant to play with you… and not someone who is going to act like they don't like… all this.
The perfect basement office of an old mattress store in an abandoned mall about a two hour hike outside of what used to be Jackson, Wyoming?
There's no spores, there's no mildew or stink! It's clean, you make sure to keep everything so clean for him.
Despite his insessant pestering about meat for some reason, he's well fed! He gets to drink whenever he wants!
Why is he so upset!?
Joel grumbles something from behind the duct tape and it's honestly lost of deaf ears because you don't care for what he has to say right now, it's never nice or sweet. It's always mean— that's why he's got the duct tape on.
Soon.
Soon the big-dumb-idiot will be singing your name, happily, and without restraints.
He's just gotta wear something else first.
You slip the shock collar around his thick neck while you're still behind him.
He doesn't like it, at all. He thrashes and writhes, and makes a desperate, pleading groan from behind deep in his throat.
"Well, you wanna act like all them other dogs out there, you're gon' get treated like one," you press a kiss to the top of his skull, and pull back before he can rear his head forward and smash it against your nose.
He's going to try-- he always does.
Slowly, you wind your way around him, trailing a finger along his sweat-slick forehead and crawl into his lap. He struggles at first, until he sees the remote in your hand.
"Gonna zap all the bad outta you… make you perfect for me." You sigh, wrapping your arms around his neck. "Have an idea...for how you can hug me-- and not hit me."
Joel mumbles something else, muffled through the duct tape. It doesn't really matter what he's saying, all that matters is how warm he is. How he makes you feel so safe and comfortable.
It's easy now, with the threat of being zapped, to rest your forehead against his, and nuzzle the tips of your noses together.
"You gunna be good for me, Mister-man?" It's a purr as you press a kiss to the duct tape covering his mouth. "Or am I gunna have to train you how to be good?"
omg this might be the longest tag list i've ever done let me know if you want me to take you off, add you, if I forgot you-- I'm SORRY!!!
TAG LIST: @pedrospookie @gothcsz @joelmillerisapunk @sp00kymulderr @paleidiot @goodvampykitten @rosebuds-and-moonlight @diabaroxa @zhazy-blog2 @almostempty @xdaddysprincessxx @tobethlehem @lilac-boo @xkyxkyxxlylcylulucuflfluclu @rav3n-pascal22
#kidnapped!joel miller#joel miller x reader#crazy!reader#dead dove fic#smut and violence#a little fluff#joel's dirty fucking mouth#joel miller tlou#Jackson!Joel#pedro pascal characters#pedrostories#eventual smut#eventual angst
73 notes
·
View notes
Note
Oooo maybe a fluff/unspoken feelings piece w Kid??
i love | eustass kid
➳ categories: modern au, female reader whose stepbrother is killer
➳ warnings: lots of swearing
➳ word count: 1.5k
➳ summary: Something about your relationship with Eustass Kid is unexplainable, but it's the type of unexplainable that you're comfortable with, no matter how odd it may seem.
➳ notes: i'm sorry if this is too niche, i had a vision tho 😭 most of his personality is based on these headcanons. thanks for the request! ❤️
➳ cross-posted on ao3
"Shit. Bad date again?"
You can't see his face, but Kid has a shit-eating grin spread across his lips as he emerges from the driver's seat of his run-down pickup truck, a hand-me-down from your and Killer's uncle that Kid and his crew of metalheads use to drive to showcases in the city. He bangs the door closed, pockets his keys, then walks over to your seated ass on the curb.
"Shut up," you mutter. Kid sits beside you, and that's when you notice that he's holding a bottle of beer. He pops the cap open with his teeth, but you snatch it from his hands before he could take a sip. "You can't drink. It's late, and you're driving me home."
"It's just beer," he deadpans. Even then, he doesn't try to wrest the bottle from your hands, instead choosing to watch you take a depressive swig. He chuckles. "How was your shitty date?"
You glare.
"You asshole— how many times do I have to tell you that it wasn't a date? The beer tastes awful, by the way."
Kid is taken aback by your statement more than your aggressive manner of shoving the bottle toward his chest. The liquid sloshes around the bottle upon impact, and at that moment, the smell of bitter hops reaches his nose. He places it down on the asphalt and clasps his hands together.
"I got it from your brother. Blame him," he says. Your expression turns sour at the mention of Killer. "I would never risk a DUI while driving you home."
"Prince Charming," you tease. Kid is your stepbrother Killer's best friend, who you happen to be close with after many tag-alongs to gigs and shows in your city. Killer is convinced that you're closer to Kid than him with the frequency of your meet-ups and last-minute pick-up requests, and at the rate you're going, he's kind of right.
Kid sneers.
"Let's talk about your shitty date."
You roll your eyes.
"It wasn't a date."
"It looked like it to me. You don't wanna give the dude a chance? He sounded like a nice guy."
"Never in a million years. Anyone within a ten-mile radius from him would know that you're lying through your teeth right now." Pulling your knees to your chest, you gently lay your head on top of them. "I rejected him. He ran out of the diner as fast as he could. Thought everybody was pitying him because his ego couldn't take a rejection."
Kid smiles again, but this time wider. You went out with a guy tonight because you were too kind to reject his past advances, which more often than not attracted public attention when you didn't want them to. You tried to turn him down a couple of times before, but he couldn't get the hint. When he asked you out yesterday to dinner, you decided to reject him once and for all, with Kid and Killer's support.
Now that you've rejected the guy, Kid feels fucking fantastic. He hated him with his guts because he wouldn't leave you alone. Still, he loves to tease the fuck out of you, loves to play dumb and provoke you further, just to spark your enraged reactions because you look like a cute barking puppy.
Swirling his tongue in thought, Kid decides to pat your head with his big rough hand, ruffling your hair just a bit as he praises you.
"That's my girl. The next time he approaches you, try kicking his balls."
"Wouldn't that count as assault?"
"He harasses you, so what's the deal? Tomato, tomato; potato, potato. Defend yourself, please."
You laugh. "What the fuck?"
Grabbing the beer bottle, Kid rises from his seated position and offers you his hand. You stare at it, blankly.
"Come on, I'll take you somewhere you'll like."
You narrow your eyes at him.
"And where is that?"
"Answering would ruin the surprise. Just come with me, will ya?"
In the blink of an eye, you're Kid's passenger princess as he drives you to who-knows-where, an occurrence in your strange friendship that happens every so often when the both of you are left alone with a car full of gas. You roll down the window and make sure that no vehicle is passing by before sticking your hand out, feeling the wisps of cool air nip at your skin. When you move your head past the window, Kid hooks his fingers on your belt loops and pulls you back down.
"Fuck no, sit back down. No head-sticking, only your hands."
"But—"
"Your brother is gonna kill me if I bring you home headless. Hands. Only."
You stick your tongue out at him, but Kid only rolls his eyes. He lets you do whatever you want as long as you're not a second close to dying, often looking at you go wild in the passenger seat as he drives.
Minutes later, the truck slows down to a parking lot, a small rink built right in front of it.
You're the first to hop off, approaching the rink with blown irises as string lights scatter about to set a mood of warmth. It's not any other rink; it's a roller rink, perfect for rollerskating, perfect for two people to share a moment of intimacy.
"I'd much prefer iceskating, but this will do."
Kid holds up two skates in his hands, one of which seems to fit you nicely in a color you love.
You get on the rink as soon as you can, planting your feet on the ground as he hooks his fingers yet again on the loops of your belt. You sneer at him as he adds to your weight.
"Well, aren't you a big baby? Always leeching off me, never letting go," you say.
"Blah, blah, blah, it's a precautionary measure."
"You and precautionary measures don't go together."
Kid grabs you by the waist and turns you around, pushing you up against him. Your feet give up, but his hold on you is firm.
"Just like oil and water?"
You hit his chest.
"I hate you! Don't scare me like that!"
"That's what you get, brat." His lips morph into a grin while you hit him with weak punches. He laughs at your helplessness. "You get surprised by the simplest things. What I did right there was romantic for anyone but you."
"That was not romantic."
"What did I just say?"
"I hate you," you mutter. He laughs softly.
"Do me a favor and get yourself a guy who can treat you like that," he says. Your stomach turns, and your eyes fall to the ground. "You got a problem?"
"No, I don't."
You abruptly bump into him in an attempt to knock him over his feet, but he remains standing. At that moment, he traps you within his arms through a big embrace.
"So what's the hold up? Still stubborn?"
You punch his bicep as you squirm in the hug.
"You know why," you tell him.
"I do?"
"Ugh..."
You stop wriggling around. Kid feels something coming up.
You place your hands on his chest.
"You know why I don't want to date anyone else. You know."
"I know," he whispers. "So why can't you just say it out loud?"
"It's not that I can't say it— it's just..." You suck in a deep breath. "Is now the perfect time for it?"
"I don't know."
He guides your hands from his chest to his face, allowing you to cup his cheeks and touch them gently.
"But if you don't say it now, then when will you?"
A breathy laugh escapes your lips as you look at him. This isn't how you expected your day to turn out, but you aren't mad about it.
You like Kid.
You always have, and you know he likes you, too.
"I'll just show it to you."
You pull his face closer to yours and meet his lips. Kid leans further down to deepen your kiss, but he stays sweet and gentle, a complete 180 degrees from what people usually expect from him. The kiss is slow, like you've been meaning to do it for a long time and you don't want to rush the movement. Kid matches your pace perfectly, and he lasts longer than expected as he doesn't seem breathless when you pull away.
"Was that demonstration good enough?" you ask.
"No." He shakes his head. "I think I need another."
You hit his chest another time.
"Ouch, baby. You hurt my feelings."
As Kid feigns discomfort, you pull him close to your face again and peck his cheek.
"Do I have to say it?" you ask. "I love..."
He smiles.
"Nah, fuck that. Just show it to me. Took us long enough, honestly." He pinches your cheek. "I finally got you."
When he lets go of your waist, you race around the rink while he tries to catch you.
Something about your relationship with Eustass Kid is unexplainable, but it's the type of unexplainable that you're comfortable with, no matter how odd it may seem.
#one piece#one piece x reader#op x reader#op x you#one piece x you#eustass#eustass kid#kid x reader#one piece kid#eustass kid x reader#kid fanart#kid one piece#op anime#op kid#op x y/n#op fanart#eustass kid x you#eustass kid x y/n#eustass x you#eustass x y/n
83 notes
·
View notes
Text
NONSENSE
You're horrible at technology, and find yourself fliriting with you university's IT customer service.
University!au, noquirk!au, fluff
(side note i love shinsou hitoshi)
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
You’re sure your stupid shitty laptop could break world records with how useless and slow it is.
You don’t think you’re much better. You study veterinary medicine so you can name every bone in a cat's ass but it would take you ten years to figure out how to send a Word document to somebody. The only up to being so horrible at technology, is your university has an IT customer service.
It’s weird and you don’t really understand how it works, but according to the front page, you can call anytime from 10am to 3am. With the clock ticking minutes before your submission date, and with an essay due tomorrow, you decide it will be less embarrassing to confess you have no idea how to work the university’s submission system, than not submit at all. You dial the number quickly, biting your thumbnail as it rings a couple times before it picks up. The person on the other line barely said their hellos before you started rambling.
“Okay, I know this is really stupid, but I cannot figure out how to attach my submission to this stupid fucking- I mean, this stupid system. And I have like, twenty minutes before my submission date, so I’d really appreciate any help you can give me.”
“Why would you leave your submission so last minute?”
You frown. You’re unaware that customer support could be so sassy. And also attractive. At least his voice is. It’s smooth and soft, and you press your phone closer to your ear to hear him better.
“Uhm. I don’t need the sass, thank you, I need the help.” You drawl, clicking at your laptop aggressively.
There’s a little chuckle of amusement on the other end of the line. “Apologies, ma’am.”
“Ma’am?”
“Would you prefer sir?”
Your face twists in annoyance. “I’d prefer you to help me.”
“Alright, alright. Okay, so enter the module the work is for, scroll to the bottom.” He pauses slightly so you can follow his instructions.
“Okay.”
“Then click the three dots on the top left. Where it says enter, click that and select your file, then submit.”
“Oh. Why doesn’t the button say submit. Instead of fucking enter.” You grumble, quickly attaching your work and handing it in.
“Not sure. I’ll let the university know.” He says, faux sympathy coating his voice.
“That’d be nice.” You glanced at your phone. You’re not sure what exactly happens now.
“So. Is that it?”
“Is what it?”
“Do I just. Hang up? Now that you’ve helped me?”
You can hear the smirk in his voice when he speaks again. “Unless you wanna keep me company for the rest of my shift?”
“Yeah, I’m good.”
You hang up, trying to ignore the small smile on your own face as you do it. You don't have to miss him for long though, because you find yourself calling them back only a few days later after the wifi in your room refuses to work.
You turn it off, then on. You carry your laptop all around your flat and hold it up to the ceiling knowing it won’t make a single difference. You ask your roommate and she is having no issue. It’s only when you’re about two seconds from snapping your laptop in half before you realise you’re not even connected. And after you find out your roommate is fine once more, you find yourself scrolling through your call history to find the IT number.
“UA University IT Services, how can I help?”
You gape. “It’s you again!”
“Hey, it’s submission girl.” He grins. “You forget it’s called enter again?”
You roll your eyes. “Ha ha. I’m not calling for your horrible comedy, I'm calling because my WiFi isn’t working. You can help me with that, right?”
He groans into the phone. “Do I have to?”
“Yes you have to. It’s your job, IT guy.”
“I suppose. Since you asked me so nicely.”
You sit up in your bed. “Okay. What should I do?”
“Are you sure it’s not just the WiFi being shitty?” He asks.
You hum questionably. “No, I don’t think so. I asked my roommate and she said that hers is fine. And it’s also saying disconnected.”
You pause for a minute. “Wait, how do you know the WiFi is shitty?”
He snorts a laugh. “I’m a student too, idiot. I have to deal with shitty wifi as well.”
“Oh.”
You’re not shocked per say. He certainly doesn’t sound like a middle aged man you’d imagine working in IT. It’s nice to confirm though. And the fact that he is probably around your age means you can keep finding his voice hot.
“What, do I sound that old?”
Definitely not. “Yeah.”
“Shut up. You sound worse.” He mumbles and you tut.
“Horrible customer service. I’m filing a complaint.”
A small laugh is heard from the other line. “I’d rather you didn’t. Rent is not cheap here.”
You lay back on your bed, dragging your laptop up on your knees. “You live in the student dorms?”
“Well, duh. I am a student, after all.”
You roll your eyes. “What year are you?” “Second.”
“Hey, me too! How old are you?” “Should I be concerned by these questions?”
“Not if you answer.”
He replies that he’s nineteen, just like you. You wonder if you’ve seen him around before. Maybe he’s even in the same course as you. You could ask for his name, but you think that might be a little weird. That, and you sort of love the mystery around the man. Who knew being so useless at technology would lead to such great things?
Your laptop flickers off, and it’s only then you remember that you called him for a reason. You tap the keyboard and it lights back up, and your anger flares up once more. You huff, and IT guy seems to remember why you called too.
“Right, your wifi. You said it’s working for your roommate?” He asks.
“Yeah. And it’s working on my phone, it’s just my laptop.”
He hums, and you can hear the faint sound of clicking on the other line. “What building are you in?” You raise an eyebrow. “Should I be concerned by these questions?”
“Not if you answer.”
You smile. “I’m in 4A.”
He takes another few seconds, and you lean your head back on your bed as you wait for him to say something.
“Alright. Your password should be, ‘uab4a’. You wanna try type that in?”
You groan, sitting up again. “I have, like six hundred times. But okay.” You huff, doing it once more.
Nothing. You sigh, defeated. All you want to do is watch some Netflix.
It takes about five tries before IT guy finally starts to get stressed out with you. He tells you to click different things, turn your laptop on and off, restart it. You follow all his instructions to no avail, and you shake your head.
“You know what, maybe I’ll just watch Netflix on my phone.” You sigh, said phone now on speaker and thrown on your bedsheets.
IT guy tuts. “None of that talk. I just don’t understand. We’ve tried literally everything. The only way I-”
Suddenly the other line goes quiet. You grab your phone to check he didn’t hang up and you see that it’s now been 18 minutes of you two on the phone together.
“Why have you gone all quiet?”
“Is your caps lock on?”
You bark a laugh. “Right. Like I’m that stupid to-”
You look down. The little light next to your capslock button is flashing, and your face heats red and IT guy starts cackling down the other line. You write the password once more, in lower case this time, and you let your face fall in your hands at the sign of four wifi bars flashing back at you.
“Oh my god.” You mumble, and IT guy just keeps laughing.
“Oh- Oh my god, you idiot.”
“Shut up! I dont- How did I not realise?” You cry, slamming your laptop shut.
IT guy takes a deep breath. “I really don’t know.”
You shake your head, putting the phone back up to your ear. “I’m sorry for wasting your time.” You mumble.
“Aw, don’t worry about it, sweetheart. I think you’re the only person that calls this line, anyway.”
You decide to ignore the nickname, and the tingle it leaves in your gut, and nod. “Good, then. I’m keeping your job for you.”
“So kind. Alright, go watch your show.”
“Night, IT guy.”
“Goodnight.”
Over the next two weeks, you end up calling a handful of times. Your password needs resetting, you accidentally deleted a file. Each inane task ends up with the two of you sitting on the phone for ages afterwards. You learn that he’s an insomniac, and that’s why he always works the night shift. He also lives in building 5B, which is about a ten minute walk from your place. The fact he’s so close, that you could go see him right now, taunts you in the back of your mind everyday. The fact that he was in your university, that he could be your classmate or someone walking around campus.
But, like all things, your horrible internet habits mellow out. After a few days of no problems, you find yourself missing him. You’ve only spoken a handful of times, but he’s funny. He’s sarcastic and a little mean, but in a good way, a way that makes you a little giddy. And of course, now that you want issues, it’s so much harder for you to find some.
Over wine poured in mugs and reruns of you confess to your roommate your situation. She’s a little skeptical of the lack of identity, but she thinks you should just call him again. It couldn’t hurt, right? Worse case scenario, you hang up and the two of you never have to speak again. But best case scenario, you can have a conversation that’s actually about something meaningful. And you can get called sweetheart again.
It takes another two days for you to build up the courage, despite your friend’s support. You wait until it’s late, remembering that he told you he works the night shift, and anxiously dial the number.
“UA University IT Services, how can I help?” His voice sounds bored, automated, but you recognise it immediately.
“Hey, IT guy.”
You hear a shuffle on the other end. “Hey, it’s my favourite customer.”
“It’s me.” You say nervously.
“So, what is it today? WiFi on the fritz again?” He teases.
It takes a second for the words to get out. “Uh, no, I. I actually don’t need help with anything today.”
“Okay. So what’s the call for?”
“I just wanted to talk to you.”
Silence. Oh god. You immediately cringe, and you are never listening to your roommate again, because she’s always wrong and stupid.
“Really?” He says quietly.
You swallow. “Really really. Don’t sound too excited.” You joke and he laughs.
“Trust me, I am. I wanted to talk to you again too, but I had no way to. The numbers on our end don’t get saved after every call, so. I was waiting for you.”
You perk up at his words. “Really?” “Really really. I also couldn't ask around. I doubt you go by submission girl in your everyday.”
You walk into your room, hopping into bed. You lay down on your stomach, and place your phone in front of you, resting your face on your arms.
“No, not particularly. Wouldn’t it be weird, though? If we actually knew each other in person this whole time and we never knew?” “Nah, I doubt it. Think I’d remember a pretty voice like yours.”
Your face flushes. “Shut up. ” You say, pressing your palms to your cheeks to cool you down.
He snorts a laugh. “What do you study?”
“Veterinary medicine.”
“Wait, that’s sick. Do you get to see cats?”
You grin. “Yes! I volunteered at a shelter last summer, they were so cute.”
He hums. “I love cats. I have one, you know.”
You eyebrows furrow in confusion. “Here? On campus? Isn’t that against the rules?”
“Nobody knows about her. We won’t get caught/ She's a good girl, she isn't loud or anything. And my roommate in under sworn secrecy.” He says.
Good girl. There's no way he isn’t talking like that on purpose. You nod your head even though he can’t see you.
“Okay, and what if she came to live with me?” You ponder, and he scoffs.
“I’m not co-parenting my cat with you.”
You’re lucky enough that your room faces the setting sun and now, a soft orange glow covers your room. It’s just cold enough that you’re wearing a hoodie and your fluffiest socks, but your window is still open to freshen the air. There’s a vanilla scented candle on its last life on your bedside table, and you prop your phone up against it and lean back in your bed.
“I could report you, you know. They’ll kick you out the uni.”
IT guy pouts. “You don’t want that to happen. Then you’ll never see how beautiful I am in real life.”
You snort a laugh. “Well, what do you look like? So I know what to avoid on campus.”
He hums thoughtfully for a moment. You yourself have spent countless minutes wondering. Is he tall? Short? Blonde, or brunette, or maybe he’s bald. You have no idea.
“Well. I’m like, 6’1.”
“Yum.”
“Shut up.” He chides, but you can hear the smile in his voice. “And I have like. Kind of long hair. And I always look sleep-deprived, 24/7.”
“Night shifts will do that to you. What colours your hair?”
“Hm. No.”
You protest. “What do you mean no?”
“It’s a dead giveaway! I want to keep some of my mystery.”
He asks you what you look like. You give him the same cryptic descriptions he gave you.
“Wow. I can find you easily now.” He drawls and you grin.
“No matter. We’ll meet one day.” You say.
The two of you end up staying on the phone for hours. It’s unfair how easily you find things to talk about. He tells you about his course, Psychology, and you listen as he rambles in your ear about studies and experiments. As it gets later his voice gets deeper, lacing deliciously with sleep as his voice rumbles in your ears. The time wears on and your eyes start to blink heavily. You look at the time and it’s been three hours. Unfortunately, you are not like IT guy, and not only do you have classes tomorrow, but you need sleep to function.
You yawn heavily. “Look, I hate to be a buzzkill but I gotta sleep. I’ve got a ten am tomorrow.”
“Boring. But fine. I’ll, uh. Talk to you later.”
You nod sleepily. “Night.”
You reach your phone over to hang up but IT guy’s voice rings out, scratchy through the speaker.
“Wait! I- Can I give you my number?”
That’s enough to wake you up.
You sit up on one elbow, rubbing at your eyes. “Your what?”
“Phone number? It’s those numbers you dial in when you wanna call me.”
“It’s too late for sarcasm.” You scowl.
“Sorry, sweetheart. It’s just I’d like to have a way to communicate with you. And call you. And text, or whatever.”
You smile slightly. “Okay. Yeah, of course you can.”
He reads out his number and you jot it down. He hangs up soon after and you send him a quick text.
September 17th
01:20 am
You: goodnight IT guy 😁
IT guy: Goodnight 💜
Life gets much easier with his phone number. Now you can text him during your lectures, during the walk to and from your work. He calls you during his shifts and you keep him company for as long as you can before you fall asleep. Which you have embarrassingly done a few times.
He sends you pictures of his cat. A cute black one called Pesto. You ask for the meaning behind that and he said he was eating pesto pasta when he got her. There’s one picture where you can see his hands in the corner, fingers long and slender and you have to stop looking before your thoughts take a dangerous turn.
Theres a time, maybe a week in, that things between you shift. The playful flirting is upped, and the conversations between you become more meaningful. You start anxiously awaiting a text back, face flushing at the stuff he says sometimes. Maybe it isn’t the smartest idea to fall for a guy who you don’t really know, but you don't care.
He knows Denki, for one. You’d mentioned the name and he’d perked up. Denki was an energetic guy you met at a house party once. And if IT guy is friends with him then that's more than enough confirmation for you that he isn’t a freak.
You tell him more about what you look like. You haven’t sent a picture, but you think he might know enough to catch you on campus. He still hasn’t told you much else, and he confesses to you one night that he’s nervous about it.
IT guy: I don’t wanna be a buzz kill but I’m scared ur gonna be disappointed
You: literlaly shut up
You: idc if u look like a troll
IT guy: right
You: or an ogre
IT guy: is this supposed to make me feel better
You: YES
You: look what im trying to say that i genuinely don’t care because i like u regardless of all that
You: ur smart and ur funny and ur mean but ina good way
You: and u hace a cute cat called pesto
IT guy: so ur using me for my cat?
You: duh..
It’s been two days since that conversation, and IT guy has been much more active ever since. You’d like to think you’ve given him a little boost of confidence, but you don’t care why it’s happening. You’re just happy that it is.
You wish you could reply to whatever he’s sent you right now, but your boss might fire you if he catches you on your phone again.
You like the coffee shop you work at. It’s a quaint little hippy spot that’s a ten minute walk from your place. The pay is good enough, and you like your coworkers. Specifically Tokoyami. He’s quiet and keeps to himself, but he lets you chatter away to him every time you’re on shift together, and he always has good music recommendations for you.
Today, it’s the both of you on shift. You’re wiping down the coffee machines in the back and you can see him talking to someone at the counter. You can’t hear what they’re saying, but it’s rare you see him talking so animatedly. So you try to get a closer look. And wow.
You don’t know who he’s talking to but you’d like to. His hair is purple. That’s the first thing you notice. It’s a lavender and it looks so soft and fluffy you want to reach out and touch it. His eyes are a deep brown, and there’s heavy bags under them, but they somehow make him look even more beautiful. He’s got a lazy smirk on his face as he says something to Tokoyami and you’re itching to reach forward and eavesdrop. But you can’t. You’re on cleaning duty. Of course you are when a cute guy comes in.
You feel a pang of guilt suddenly, when you remember IT guy. You don’t think you should be thinking about any other guys. Even really cute ones. You get your head down and keep wiping. It’s only a moment later when you hear a crash and your head shoots up. Something happened out in the shop, and a moment later Tokoyami pops his head in the kitchen.
“Someone spilled some shit on the floor. Can you take Shinsou?”
Shinsou. Tokoyamis told you about him before. A friend from university, or something like that.
“The purple haired guy?”
“Yep.”
“Gosh, the famous friend I’ve heard so much about. You never mentioned he’s so cute.” You wiggle your eyebrows and he rolls his eyes at you.
“Yeah, sorry but. He’s got a little girlfriend texting thing going on.”
You tell him you were only joking and he just pushes you out to the front. You peek a look at Shinsou and he’s looking off into the distance. Deliciously so.
You check his order and it’s just a black coffee. Simple enough. You make quick work of the drink, humming something under your breath as the machine whirls to life. You write his name on the cup in sharpie, and fill it up, pressing the lid and slipping on a cover so he doesn’t burn his hands.
You walk up to the counter. “Hiya. You’re Shinsou? Tokoyami’s friend? He’s mentioned you before. All good things.” You smile as you slide the drink over.
And Shinsou looks back at you like you’ve got two heads. Or like you’re the most shocking thing he’s ever seen in your life. You step back a bit, slightly nervous at the shocked expression on his face.
“Is everything okay?” You ask, your smile falling a little.
“No. I mean yes! It’s-“
And it’s as he’s stuttering through his words you hear it. That voice. That same deep, smooth voice you’ve been flirting with over the phone. And you’re sure your face now looks like Shinsou is the most shocking thing you’ve ever seen in your life. Your face heats up and he doesn’t look shocked for much longer because that same unfairly attractive smirk graces his face.
He leans forward slightly. “Is this submission girl in the flesh?”
“Oh my god. IT guy?”
His smirk widens into a grin. “I go by Shinsou, but. You can call me that too.”
You roll your eyes to the side but you can’t help but keep them on him, an incredulous look on your face. “You were worried for us to meet? You’re fucking hot.” You say.
And he looks even better when the tops of his cheeks dust the slightest red. You smile, leaning forward on the counter.
“Thank you. And you’re beautiful.”
You raise an eyebrow. “Even in my gross work apron?”
“Especially in your gross apron, sweetheart.”
You feel like giggling like you’re fourteen with a crush again. You brush a lock of hair behind your ear.
“You’re not working tonight, right?” You ask.
He shakes his head and purple locks of hair dance around his face. Slender fingers grab the cup and take a sip.
“Perfect. We’re going out.”
Shinsou tilts his head to the side. “Shouldn’t I be asking you out? Seems much more traditional that way.”
“We met on our uni's customer service number. I don’t think anything about this is traditional.”
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
guys i LAAAAUUUVVVVV shinsou and like he does not get enough attention or love or fics....... it makes me wanna scream
also this nearly took a steamy turn... with that cellular device.... but i did not because i cba
also i noticed that jason todd fics do so wel compared to my other stuff?? maybe cause hes not as popular but i will keep that in mind my people.
i hope u all enjoyed this! <3
#oneshot#fluff#b3ach bunn7#shinsou hitoshi x reader#hitoshi shinsou#shinsou hitoshi#mha#mha shinsou#mha shinso hitoshi#bnha#bnha shinsou
116 notes
·
View notes
Text
manipulation, work drama, coworker! sukuna
people hated and loathed working for him, he was a total brute and alot of times, an asshole.
he was known to piss employers or colleagues off, weather it be his smart ass mouth or it be he got into a fight with them. it worsens, as soon as he got into a management level.
he was also known to let people go for the smallest of things, (really, really small things). hes even let a man go for having bad breath, because what made that acceptable for work? especially for customers who came in— and he doesnt feel like dealing with that.
you somewhat feared him, this being your longest job and the only one thats kept you from being unemployed. in this economy? youd die. plain and simple— but yet, you have no qualms with the brute. they called him ‘the devil’s employee’ for anything he did, always running his mouth. yet, all you saw was a man who somehow got a job even with all the body modifications, yet back then youd be let go if your hair was ‘unkempt.’
who did he have to bargain to get this job?
your mind raced as your feet led to his office, he having the closed door policy— dont bother him unless he bother you, or emergency. even then, youd be fired if you came to him for an emergency.
three knocks on the door, and it swings open in a rage. “what?!” he looks for a bit, forgetting hes damn straight taller than everyone, and he finally sees you. “business?”
“uhh— you said you wanted me in yer office?” you remind, he nodding and beckoning his finger to his chairs. you only sneak inside, sitting immediately as he kicks the door shut. “whats this about?”
“you tell me.”
was he dumb, stupid, or slow? he cant be, he somehow got this job, so what the hell does he mean ‘you tell me?’
“uh, im not sure? you came to me with your demands.” you still have to remind this fine tatted fuck hes the one who called for you. it eats away at you, the nervous and tension bit at your skin for minutes.
“you look like a decently smart girl, yeah?” sukuna says, leaning back in his chair, almost manspreading and pressing his finger to his jaw to keep it up. “you know everyone of this company’s policies and procedures, huh?”
you nodded, giving a look as in ‘get to the fucking point.’
“so you should know there isnt a reason you should be intimate with coworkers.” he blurts, watching your face grow in confusion.
“you lost me.” you throw your hands up, sighing. “who am i supposed to be intimate with?” because how dare he— you hadnt been intimate with anyone in the workplace, not even outside (okay, not going too far.. just casually on dates!) so who were you dating in the workplace that he accused you of?”
“you know who im talking about.” he says monotone again, tapping his heavy foot on the floor.
“i truly dont.. sorry to tell.”
“saiko.” he says, as if you were supposed to know who that was. “says hes been seein’ you for the last couple of days.”
“saiko can kiss my ass.” you grit, he was known to find a pretty girl and just lie about statuses and relationships. “me and saiko dont even have each other’s phone numbers.” this had to be the most ridiculous thing you dealt with, thought sukuna was smart and maybe saiko would pick you next.
he raises an eyebrow , his vein slightly popping through his shirt. “watch yer mouth talkin’ to me, girl.” he reminds, could he write up for insubordination? no, hed just terminate you for it. “so if i were to investigate more, i wouldnt find anything you were hiding?”
“no, because again, i dont date inside my work.”
he nods, pressing his tongue against his cheek and he quickly stands. a couple small strides, and he folded his arms— standing over you. it looked lewd, like he was trying to shove his cock in your face. “you sure you wanna go with that, or am i going to find something else?”
he should be the one questioned about this, his literal groin was almost touching your face— dont even get yourself started on how big his thighs were. “no..?” you still say, because you were in the clear. he nods, backing away and he opens the door.
“beat it.” he beckons again, watching your hips as you walked out.
yet, there was a reason of his sudden questioning.
a sick, perverted, disgusting reason of why he asked, because hes had his sights on you for months, almost a year.
he could have just asked you on a date, a coffee run, or marybe just numbers. but your answers were known, he knew you didnt date inside the workplace. it angered him, he felt like he was indirectly rejected.
he knew he wasnt, but he also thinks you should know when its okay to let loose.
it was a simple crush he had— wouldnt even call it that to think of it, but it manifested itself into something else. he started having these lingering thoughts and looks, like he was longing. to hell with the ‘policies and practices’ bullshit, he had more power than anyone.
people who noticed that he was staring at you in meetings and gossiped were let go, with the reasons of insubordination, bad breath, improper behavior, many more.
he only grew more sick when he became a management level, having more authority over you— everyone he disliked. but that also ment he had authority over saiko, the man who wasnt as creepy as sukuna. he was known to find a nice looking woman and make up a scenario where you were dating.
and that angered the devils’ employee. because why the hell did he think he had a chance with you? how did he come up with this idea on his own? thats what sukuna wanted to know. and quite frankly, he didnt fuckin’ care.
saiko was then terminated and blacklisted, last you heard after your ‘meeting.’
#dvorahasks#sukuna x black reader#jjk sukuna#sukuna ryomen#ryomen x black! reader#ryomen x you#jujutsu ryomen#jjk ryomen#ryomen x reader#jujutsu kaisen ryomen#ryomen sukuna#sukuna#sukuna x black! reader#sukuna x you#sukuna x reader#gamblersdoll
61 notes
·
View notes