#x male oc

[servicpop]

✶ ﹑ㅤi only have eyes for you ﹏

NOW STARRING : CEO (Vallen Carter) x jealous sub male reader

「ㅤNSFWㅤ」ㅤVallen's assistant is hot and reader can't help but feel jealous!

✙ warnings — reader is kinda insecure, office handjob (reading recieving), getting caught

notes ,, finally wrote about vallen.. not proofread!

"Your assistant, would you ever date her?"

You were currently sat on the plush couch Vallen had in his office behind his desk. Sometimes, you would invade his workplace and lounge in his office when you were bored and wanted to simply be in his presence. At your time here you've noticed a few things, one being Vallen's super hot assistant. To say she was just pretty was an understatement. She was refined, spoke smoothly and elegantly, always dressed proper, and was smart on top of all of that. Anyone would fall for someone like her, including Vallen.

Typing away on his keyboard, Vallen had his back facing you. "Why would I date her when I have you?" He replied, his voice as husky as it always was and carried little emotion in it. You huffed, turning around to face him— his back, as you took a moment to think about your next words, "Because she's really hot and— she gets to see you more often, and she's so elegant," you mumble, your words were quiet from the slight embarrassment you felt in admitting this.

You see Vallen pause in his typing, his body stilling before he let out an exhale that visibly made his shoulders fall to a more relaxed position, "Is that really what you're worried about?" His statement was firm, almost scolding. You couldn't help but keep quiet. The room was silent — besides Vallen's keyboard tapping or mouse clicking — before he decided to speak up, "Come here," he said, his tone on the boundary of stern and soft; it was always hard to tell which one he was leaning more towards. Of course you oblige, getting up from the couch and walking over to where his chair was.

"If you're that worried about my assistant, there can be a few arrangements made," He hummed, loosening his tie slightly before looking up at you. You stand there like a child getting scolded — that was usually the case when you were with Vallen, he was just so overwhelmingly mature it surprised you that he was only a few years older than you — as you fumble with your fingers, your gaze casted down to your feet. Yeah you were jealous but she undoubtedly did her job well and you didn't want to burden Vallen from a stupid little feeling.

He seemed to pick up on your discomfort, letting out a heavy huff from his chest as he leaned back in his chair, earning a small squeak in return. "Seems like you are simply too sweet to do that," He chuckled softly, patting his thigh firmly before his eyes met yours. You take the iniative to sit on his lap, settling yourself ontop of him as you wrap your arms around his waist in a small hug with your face squished in the crook of Vallen's neck. You seemed to melt in his embrace as he hooked one arm around your back and slid the chair forward so he could continue working.

The familiar sound of keyboard tapping resumed, and you rested ontop of Vallen with your eyes closed, relaxing in his company. After awhile, Vallen's hand made its way to your thigh; his large hand squeezing it firmly before sliding further up your leg. This draws your attention back down to the present as you look down, "What are you doing?" You ask. Vallen doesn't respond with words, he responds with a hand cupping your pants instead, rubbing you through your pants with his knuckles. A small groan slips out between your lips as you find yourself grinding against his palm. Wasn't your fault Vallen had such warm hands.

"I just want to prove how much I love you, and that I would never leave you for anyone," Vallen replied, his voice becoming raspy as his lips meet your earlobe. His slender fingers tug at the waistband of your pants and your boxers, slipping his hand underneath the fabric. You flinch upon feeling the warmth of his lips press against your ear and your body jerks when his hand unexpectedly grabs your now hardening cock. His hands are like magic, the way that they make you feel like you're about to implode with butterflies is honestly impressive.

Vallen pushes the fabric of your clothes down more so he could have better access to your body, letting a deep chuckle out as he stared at the way your cock practically weeps for attention in his hands. Like the good man he is, he gives you that attention. His thumb glides over your blushed tip, teasing your slit as his other hand grips your waist, keeping you stable on his lap. "You're already twitching," he comments with a small smirk on his face. Vallen deems that your poor, red tip has been tortured enough and decides to move his hand to the base of your cock, squeezing lightly before working his way back up to your tip before sliding back down to the base. He repeats this action almost painfully slow, watching your face intently to catch any facial expressions you'd make.

It was embarassing how needy you felt in this moment. Your back arched with every movement of Vallen's hand and your hips stuttered as you tried to grind into the pleasure. Your small whimpers and gasps filled the office, accompanied by the lewd, wet noises of Vallen jerking you off, "I'd deal with you in a more— proper way if I wasn't in the office right now." You could tell he was enjoying this as much as you did; it was evident by the bulge in his pants poking you. However, you knew Vallen was far too disciplined to want to partake in such activities in his workplace, but that was his personal preference, he loved seeing you crumble during work.

You couldn't help but gasp out his name, your fingers curled around his wrists, trying to stop the movement but it just felt so good. Your body was leaned back and your head tilted down, watching Vallen's slender, veins hands rub your body like he was sculpting a delicate clay figure. A hand gripped your trembling legs, holding you still as Vallen focused on pleasuring you. He knew you were close by how vocal you were getting now.

The soft click of the door opening fell deaf to your ears, your brain fogged with lust and Vallen's hands. His assistant had entered. You picked up that something was wrong from the slight twitching of Vallen's eyes as he rose his head to look at whoever interrupted his session with you. Nonetheless he didn't stop, he kept moving his wrist up and down, curving his palm more at the head before returning down to grip the base of your cock, using your precum as lube.

"Vallen, who—" you tried to speak but Vallen's fingers shoved past your lips and into your mouth unexpectedly. The foreign feeling of his fingers pressing against your tongue for some reason sent shiver down your spine and to your dick. "What better way of proving I wouldn't leave you than to start with getting rid of the root cause?" Vallen cooed in your ear, glaring at his assistant before speeding up his hand. You tried to protest but your words were blocked by Vallen's long fingers shoved deeply into your throat, bits of saliva dripped down your chin and he took the courtesy to wipe it off with his thumb. What a gentleman— obviously despite his indecency by jerking you off infront of his assistant.

It was getting to that familiar point where your hips began to chase your release and your legs felt numb. You were oblivious to the fact that Vallen's assistant was forced to watch him push you over the edge in pleasure. Vallen groaned quietly as his fingers were enveloped in warmth from your mouth, oh how he wished he could fuck you over the desk right now but he couldn't bring himself to embarass you like that. Your eyes rolled back as you felt yourself finally cum; white sticky liquid painted Vallen's hands.

Heavy breathing — from you — filled the awkward tension in the room before you finally turned around to see what was happening behind your back.

"You were watching the whole time?!"

"Unfortunately."

notes ,, not too happy with this one but I wanted to get something out to you guys. Also, I'm kinda liking the assistant, maybe she'll be like a side character in the future (not as a love interest, im planning for her to be a girl kisser)

[gingeralecranberry]

“ I’M INTO GIRLS LIKE JENNIFER LAWRENCE; PLEASED TO MEET YOU ! “

“ SENSEI , SENSEI ! “

yandere! jjk men x older! m! teacher reader

AT THE FOOT OF THE BED

" sensei, sensei! did you miss me? your most accomplished student? "

" hardly, your voice is a constant headache, satoru. "

" hey! be nice to me! and start referring to me by my last name, we're coworkers now, you know! "

˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖

in short, you should've never agreed to do that favor.

you should've remembered why you quit in the first place.

KNOCKING DOOR TO DOOR

☺︎pairings:

satoru gojo x male reader, sukuna x male reader, geto x male reader, kenjaku x male reader, (?) mahito x male reader, choso x male reader, uraume x male reader (ish?)

EYES SO PUFFED UP AND RED

☺︎warnings/tags

older! male reader, teacher! reader, yandere behavior (and all that comes with it, specific warnings will be included at the beginning of the chapters obvs), canon typical violence, somewhat op male reader? he's a special grade lolol, slowburn/edging u on the romance and yandere content, yaga as adoptive family, gay gay homosexual gay, unrequited feelings, reader is kind of like an oc, no physical features established aside from being tall but they have a personality, technique, backstory, etc, do with that what you will, probably will be somewhat ooc cause this is a yandere romance book and i fear jjk is a shounen, liberal use of the word sensei (you've been warned), all characters mentioned as love interests should get their own warnings except maybe choso and suguru

AND MY BODY'S SORE

☺︎ current taglist:

@angelkazusstuff @ahoeindeedinneed @wutap @mysouleaten @ilovebattinson @satansdaughter123 @http-l-o-k-i @rinaizha @academiq

𝟐-𝟎 ; 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞 " 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 " ☓

𝟐-𝟏 ; 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝗼𝐛𝐣𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ☓

𝟐-𝟐 ; 𝐮𝐧𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐜𝗼𝗺𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝗺𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐲 ☓

𝟐-𝟑 ; 𝐚 𝐟𝐚𝐯𝗼𝐫 ☓

𝟑-𝟎 ; 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 " 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐥 " ☓

𝟑-𝟏 ; " 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐣𝐮𝐤𝐮 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 ! " ☓

𝟑-𝟐 ; " 𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 , 𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 " ☓

𝟑-𝟑 ; " 𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐳𝐲 𝐞𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 ? " ☓

JAZMIN BEAN : FAVORITE TOY

read it on wattpad ! : https://www.wattpad.com/1494880707?utm_source=ios&utm_medium=link&utm_content=share_reading&wp_page=reading_part_end&wp_uname=gingeralecranberry

read it on ao3 ! :

[angelsfat3]

ⓘㅤ 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑 ⠀⠀( 从我脑子里滚出去！)

𝓢ummary “ ✉. No matter how much you brag about moving on, it all ends up in his bed.

⠀،،⠀Genre. ’ Exes with benefits (secretly lovers), drama, au, mlm, suggestive.

( 𝒄/𝒘. )───Curses, Soobin being a tease, blackmail, nothing more.

＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿

The first sign that something was wrong was the cold.

Not an unbearable cold, but that creeping sensation on your skin when something feels out of place. You shifted slightly, feeling the sheets slide over your body… too soft for your liking. That’s when the discomfort settled in your chest.

You opened your eyes sluggishly, blinking a few times before the room became familiar.

Fuck. Not again.

Your body tensed instantly. The space, the bed, the faint scent of expensive cologne mixed with fabric softener—everything confirmed what your brain was trying to deny. You were naked.

You bolted upright, yanking the sheets to cover yourself, and at that precise moment, you heard his voice.

“You woke up earlier today. Good morning, prince.”

A shiver ran down your spine.

Slowly, you turned your head, as if that could delay the inevitable. And there he was. Sitting in front of his computer, fingers moving with practiced precision over the keyboard, his eyes fixed on the screen, fully engrossed in his League of Legends match—as if you weren’t there, naked in his bed.

“Shut up,” you muttered through clenched teeth, feeling the heat rush to your cheeks.

Soobin didn’t bother looking at you, but a smug smile crept onto his face before he answered in that relaxed, condescending tone.

“What? Still not used to this?” he teased, leaning back slightly in his chair without pausing his game. “We’ve been doing this for… what? Almost 6 months now?”

Your pulse pounded in your ears.

Of course, you weren’t used to it. Because this wasn’t supposed to keep happening. Because you were supposed to hate him.

And yet, there you were, naked in his bed again.

And worst of all? As if it wouldn’t happen again soon.

───────────────────────────────────

The class started like any other. The murmurs of your classmates faded the moment the professor began speaking, and you found yourself glued to your notes, trying to keep up with the lesson, but your mind kept betraying you.

The sound of his voice faded as your eyes nervously moved over your notes, seeking refuge in them, but your thoughts kept returning to one thing.

That damn bed. The way Soobin had looked at you the night before, his eyes shining in the dim light, his soft but determined voice whispering things that cut through to your bones.

Those damn memories kept coming back, and no matter how much you tried to ignore them, you couldn’t. The echo of the previous night replayed over and over in your head, like a movie you couldn’t stop.

“You know what you do to me, right?” The words still echoed in your mind as if you were hearing them in that very moment, his warm breath against your neck as his hands traced your skin, as if you were his in some way that made you want to hate him even more.

“You can’t resist. Neither can I... just look at you, I could fuck you on my desk or your favorite spot, my couch.”

The memory of his lips brushing yours, the moment when, despite everything you hated about him, you couldn’t help but respond. The faint taste of his mouth, that feeling of belonging in his world even though you swore you never would. You flushed just thinking about it, the heat rising to your cheeks.

Shit.

“Come on, [...]” his words rang in your mind as you saw him lean over you, his lips crashing onto yours with that irritating need.

“Don’t pretend you don’t like it...”

His hands touched your skin, the same skin that now burned under the fabric of the shirt you hastily put on that morning.

You gripped the pen tightly as you tried to focus on something, anything, to shut out those thoughts. But Soobin wouldn’t let you. You wouldn’t let yourself.

“Are you nervous, my angel?” His voice had been soft, almost mocking, when, amidst everything, he pushed you onto the bed with that challenging look. There was something about his presence that drove you crazy.

Just remembering it... Shit. He was already tightening his pants.

“Fuck!” you thought, biting the inside of your cheek. It couldn’t be that, despite everything you did, you had let him touch you, let him kiss you, as if that was so easy for him.

You stole a quick glance in his direction. He was focused on the professor, completely ignoring you, as always, taking notes with that annoying perfection that made you furious. But that wasn’t what kept you tense.

It was the memory of the way he looked at you last night, how his eyes had glinted as he said:

“You say you hate me, but only I can have you like this.”

Your face burned, your cheeks and ears radiating heat. For a moment, you felt like everyone in the room could notice, that they could see what Soobin had made you feel.

What the hell was wrong with you? Why did you keep falling for his game?

But then.

“[...]” the professor called your name, pulling you out of your tangle of thoughts and snapping you back to reality with a mocking smile.

For a moment, you felt worse than dead, suddenly sweating cold. You were never a fan of being the center of attention, ironically, in class. But when everyone’s eyes turned to you, you felt the heat flood your face again, that damn embarrassment.

“What do you think of the narrative style of this author?” the professor asked, glancing at his watch impatiently.

You had gotten so lost in the memories of the previous night that you didn’t even know what he was talking about. As always, pretending didn’t even help anymore.

You shrugged with fake indifference, trying not to make eye contact with anyone.

“Well, I don’t know... I guess it’s fine.” you murmured, trying to hide the discomfort you felt in every inch of your body.

The professor raised an eyebrow, clearly expecting more, but when it became obvious you weren’t going to say anything, he just clicked his tongue and moved on with the lesson.

A quiet sigh of relief escaped your lips as you slumped into your seat, avoiding the curious glances from a few classmates. But there was one in particular that you could feel more than all the others.

Soobin.

You didn’t need to turn around to know he was watching you. You could feel it—that damn weight of his gaze pressing into you, as if he were enjoying your obvious distraction.

Slowly, you shifted your gaze toward where he sat a few rows ahead, entirely focused on his notes, his pen gliding smoothly across the page with that usual calm expression—like nothing in the world could shake him.

Like he wasn’t thinking about what he did to you last night.

But then, just when you thought maybe it was all in your head, you saw it.

He smiled.

Not the polite smile he used with professors or his teammates. It was a smirk, barely noticeable, but it was there. Like he knew exactly what was on your mind. Like he knew you were watching him.

Your body tensed.

“Aren’t you going to look at me through the mirror?”

The memory of his voice hit you again, a persistent echo you couldn’t shake.

“Did I tell you I’m a fan of how tight you get? No matter how many times…”

You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to shake those images from your head. His mouth tracing over your skin, his fingers pressing exactly where they knew you’d tremble. His low laugh when he watched you lose control.

“Say it. Say you need me.”

“Ugh…” you murmured, rubbing your face with both hands.

“Something to share with the class, [...]? You seem more distracted than usual,” the professor asked in a bored tone, prompting a few chuckles from the class.

“Uh…” Your mouth opened, but no words came out.

Soobin shifted in his seat, and for a moment, you thought he was going to ignore it. But instead, he raised his hand.

“Professor, I think [...] would much rather discuss… a different kind of narrative,” he said, not even looking at you, his voice laced with amusement.

The muffled laughter from your classmates made you want to disappear.

Soobin. Fucking Soobin.

If it weren’t for the fact that you knew you’d end up in his bed again, you would’ve sworn you were going to kill him.

Classes went on as usual, but you could barely focus. The way Soobin had made that comment without even looking at you was eating you alive. You knew he’d done it on purpose, just to watch you burn with embarrassment in front of everyone.

And the worst part? It had worked. You’d spent half the class making up a story on the spot.

The moment the bell rang, signaling the end of class, you grabbed your things in a hurry, trying to leave before anyone could stop you. But of course, luck was never on your side.

"Run faster next time, bunny."

Soobin’s voice came from right behind you, relaxed and teasing, that infuriatingly smug tone making you want to turn around and punch him in the face… or do something worse.

You spun on your heels, slamming your locker shut.

“Does ruining my life amuse you?”

Soobin shrugged with a grin.

“Not my fault you can’t stop thinking about me.”

Your jaw clenched. Of course he knew. Of course he’d noticed. Because no matter what, Soobin always found a way to get under your skin.

“Screw you, asshole,” you muttered, turning to leave.

“Oh yeah? You didn’t say that last night.”

Your step faltered for just a second, but you weren’t going to give him the satisfaction of seeing you react. You kept walking, feeling his gaze burn into your back until you turned the corner.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ──────

During lunch, you sat with your friends, trying to distract yourself with any conversation that wasn’t about him. And for a moment, it almost worked.

Until he walked into the cafeteria.

You didn’t need to look to know he was there. It was automatic at this point.

As always, his uniform shirt was perfectly in place, the sleeves rolled up just enough to his elbows, his hair slightly tousled in a way that seemed effortless—but you knew better. Soobin never did anything without intent.

And, of course, the first thing he did was look at you.

A brief exchange of glances. A split second where your breath caught in your throat, until he smiled—that infuriatingly smug expression that drove you insane.

You forced yourself to look away, focusing on the food on your tray as if you actually cared about it. But you knew he was still there.

Talking with his friends. Laughing with that voice that, damn it, was already imprinted in your head. And worse? Ignoring you. Or at least, that’s what you thought.

Because that’s what he did. He got in your head, played with you, then acted like you were nothing.

Your fork stabbed into your food harder than necessary.

“You good?” one of your friends asked, noticing your attitude.

You forced a smile.

“Yeah, totally. Just… really hungry. I could eat a whole cow.”

A fake smile settled on your lips as you took a big bite of your chicken salad. Conversation flowed as usual within your group—some joking around, others gossiping.

“…So, what’s up with Soobin?” one of your friends asked out of nowhere, just as you were about to take another bite.

You nearly choked.

“What’s up? Nothing. That idiot is still the same egotistical asshole as always,” you replied with obvious indifference, poking at your food without interest.

“Still at war, or have you signed a peace treaty, Donald Duck?” another one joked, earning a few laughs from the table.

You scoffed.

“Peace? Please. You can’t reason with Soobin. He always has to prove he’s better. At everything. Literally.”

Your friends nodded in agreement, giving you the perfect motivation to continue.

“He always has to be the smartest, the tallest, the best at everything. But if we talk about how he was as a boyfriend… that ‘perfect guy’ reputation of his kinda falls apart.”

“Damn, that bad?” one of them asked, laughing.

“You guys have no idea,” you sighed dramatically, propping your elbow on the table. “Soobin loved bragging about all kinds of shit, but there was one thing that always killed the mood whenever he and I…”

You stopped yourself mid-sentence, realizing all eyes were now locked on you with curiosity.

“When you what?” one of them asked with a teasing grin.

“Nothing, nothing,” you rushed to say, stuffing food into your mouth to make it seem like you hadn’t almost revealed way more than necessary.

But your friends were already too invested.

“Oh, come on, you started it. How was he in… ‘everything’?” one of them teased, wiggling their eyebrows.

“Probably talking about how he wasn’t exactly 12 inch—” another left the sentence hanging, smirking mischievously.

“Hey!” you protested, feeling heat rise to your cheeks. “Enough already. I don’t care to talk about Soobin like that. All I’m saying is that he was annoying, arrogant, and a total fucking asshole.”

“Oh, but you were all over him. Almost got his initial tattooed, even.”

You did. Lower back, to the left.

“Youthful mistake,” you said quickly, raising your hands in mock surrender.

“So you don’t miss him? Not even a little…?” one of them sang, though something about their tone felt off. They kept glancing over your shoulder.

“Please, I’d rather miss the shit I took this morning than him.”

You really should’ve shut up when you had the chance. Poor dumbass.

“I’m flattered.”

The voice behind you made time freeze for a second. It was like your entire body tensed at once.

Slowly, you turned, already feeling panic rising in your chest, only to find Soobin standing right next to the table, arms crossed, one brow raised.

His expression was neutral, but his eyes—his goddamn eyes—held that glint of amusement that told you he’d heard enough.

“Soobin…” you said, forcing a smile. “How… how long have you been standing there?”

“Long enough.” His voice was calm.

Your friends exchanged looks—some entertained, others waiting for the inevitable drama.

Soobin tilted his head, scanning you with that infuriating gaze that always seemed to see more than you wanted to show. Up and down, completely shameless.

“So, I was a shitty boyfriend, huh?” he murmured, lips curling into that smirk that made your blood boil. “That’s… interesting… ’cause last night, you didn’t seem so regretful about scratching up my back for hours.”

Silence. Absolute silence.

Your mouth opened, but no words came out.

Soobin leaned in slightly, lowering his voice just for you.

“You should be more careful with what you say, [...]. Wouldn’t want certain pictures of us getting out,” he paused, chuckling under his breath, “—moaning my name like the desperate little bitch you are.”

And just like that, he straightened up with irritating ease, as if he hadn’t just sent your heart into overdrive and your cheeks into flames, before walking off with that same infuriating grace.

Your friends erupted into chaos—questions, shouts, disbelief.

And you? Well.

You wanted to fucking die.

You didn’t think. You just reacted.

Jumping to your feet, you ignored your friends’ stares and bolted after Soobin. You spotted him walking casually down the hallway, that damn relaxed posture of his making it seem like he hadn’t just ruined your entire existence.

“Soobin!” you shouted, picking up your pace.

He didn’t even flinch, just kept strolling toward his locker.

“Soobin, for fuck’s sake, I’m talking to you!”

When you caught up to him, you grabbed his arm forcefully, yanking him to a stop.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” you snapped, chest rising and falling from the rush. “How the hell could you say that in front of everyone?”

Soobin let out a low grunt, rolling his eyes like he couldn’t be more annoyed.

“Are we really doing this here?” he muttered, not even looking at you.

“Yes, right fucking here! Because I need you to explain what the hell was going through your—”

You never finished your sentence.

Because in a move so fast you barely saw it coming, Soobin grabbed a fistful of your hair and yanked you forward, rough and unyielding.

A startled gasp left your lips as he shoved you into an empty classroom, locking the door behind him with a sharp click.

Your back hit the wall, and Soobin stood right in front of you, eyes burning with something dark, something dangerous.

“Do you have any idea how fucking irritating you are?” he murmured, voice low and almost raspy.

Your heart was pounding.

“I…” You swallowed hard, trying to regain your composure. “T-That still doesn’t justify what you did!”

Soobin let out a dry laugh, placing a hand on the wall beside your head, effectively caging you in.

“Oh, come on,” he whispered, leaning in slightly. “Drop the act. You and I both know that no matter how much shit you talk about me, you’ll always end up on your knees for me.”

Your breath hitched.

“That’s a lie.”

Soobin arched a brow, clearly entertained.

“Oh yeah? Then tell me you don’t think about me all the damn time. Look me in the eyes and say you didn’t beg me last night to fuck you until you—”

Your hand flew up, slapping over his mouth before he could finish, heat flooding your face.

“Shut up,” you hissed through clenched teeth.

He stared at you for a second, then bit down lightly on your palm—just enough to make you pull away with a sharp inhale.

“You’re a fucking idiot. You never change,” you whispered.

Soobin smirked.

“And you still love me like that.”

The air between you turned heavy, thick with tension. His gaze dropped to your lips, and you—stupid, reckless, weak—did the same with his.

No. Not again.

You needed to get the hell out of here before this happened again.

But then, Soobin leaned in even closer…

The air between you grew thick, heavy with something both of you refused to acknowledge—but always ended up surrendering to.

And then, Soobin just snapped.

His lips crashed against yours, rough and unyielding, without warning, without hesitation. A wild, desperate kiss, like he was trying to consume you whole.

Your body reacted before your mind could catch up. Your hands clung to his shirt, and the moment his arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you flush against him, you didn’t think twice before hooking your legs around his hips.

Soobin groaned into your mouth, pressing you against the wall as he deepened the kiss, his tongue claiming you with raw hunger. Your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging hard, the burn in your stomach growing unbearable.

You had no idea how long it lasted, but when you finally broke apart, both of you were gasping for air, lips swollen, eyes dark with want.

Soobin rested his forehead against yours, a smug smirk tugging at his lips.

“A quickie right here?” he murmured, still breathless. “Then I’ll take you out to a fancy dinner. My treat, I swear.”

It took your brain a second to register his words. And when it did, your face burned.

“A quickie here? Are you a caveman or what?” you managed to say, though your voice wavered.

Soobin chuckled, amused by your reaction.

“I’m just saying we could save some time.”

Your heart was pounding so hard you were sure he could hear it.

You knew you had two choices. Push him away and walk out before things spiraled even further… or give in, like you always did.

And, well, you both knew which one you’d choose.

“Fine,” you muttered, starting to slide off his waist. “But you better not squeeze my ass too hard—I’ll be sore for hours, and we still have class.”

＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿

⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ݁⠀⠀،،⠀⠀메모 ! ㅤ⸻ㅤ I just had to do a story after and while listening to Love Hangover, even if they don't give off the same vibes.

+ All photo credits to: 📍︐⠀

⠀𝒊. ⠀─⠀ All credits to @angelsfat3 / @foschiamara⠀𝄒

. . . ₍⠀아이디어 !ㅤ⸻ㅤI'm very short of ideas lately, so feel free to leave me any requests! <⁠(⁠￣⁠︶⁠￣⁠)⁠>⠀₎⠀ ִֶָ

˖⠀⠀ ݁⠀©⠀،،⠀If you liked it you can like, follow me or reblog!!

[banj0possum]

Touchdown

Playboy!Jock x GN Reader

CW: playboy behavior, mentioned nsfw

🏈Brandon was the star player in the school football team, who had his pick of anyone he wanted because of his good looks and talent in sports.

🏈He was used to short relationships that meant seemingly nothing, it was always just them walking up to him all flustered, him flirting, then a one-night stand or two, then a breakup that left them either a sobbing mess or with a burning hatred for the jock, either way, he thought nothing of them in the long run.

🏈He was sitting with the rest of the football team during lunch when he saw you. He wasn't sure if you were new or not, there were many people in the school that he didn't pay any attention to, so seeing you for the first time made him intrigued.

🏈You were sitting alone in one of the tables close to the corner to get some much-needed peace and quiet when you feel a weight on the bench next to you. You turn and see Brandon, a member of the football team. You raise a brow at him while taking a bite out of your food.

🏈The fact that you seemed so uninterested in his presence was amusing to him and he started making small talk to you, a little teasing and playful insults sprinkled in, perhaps some flirting if you squint.

🏈But all you did was reply to his questions about your life in the driest ways possible with absolutely no interest in conversation with a playboy like him.

🏈You've heard of him before from some friends of yours, how he's fucked probably half of the cheerleading squad and had a lengthy history of chatting up girls just to fuck them and leave. All of this and the way he presented himself to you as some stuck-up douche who's only talking to you in order to make fun of you made you annoyed and a bit revolted by him.

🏈Brandon on the other hand couldn't get enough of you. The more he talked to you the more interested he was about you as a person. You were modest, you had interesting tastes in music, you had cool hobbies he's never heard of before from anyone he's talked to in the past, and most of all you were...beautiful.

🏈You weren't that different from everyone else compared to looks, sure you were a bit prettier but average nonetheless, why does he think you're so cute all of a sudden?

🏈the bell rang, and you immediately stood up to walk to class, much to the jock's dismay.

🏈He takes your hand before to went off with a gentle but tight grip.

🏈"uh...so you like, have good english scores right? You think you could tutor me sometime?"

🏈Ohhhhhh so that's why he talked to you, because you were a nerd and he needed you to copy homework from.

🏈You offer your English essay, but he refuses, asking if you were available to help him to make his own.

🏈You were pleasantly surprised to say the least, you never thought someone like him would choose tutoring instead of copying from someone else for an easy A+.

🏈You let out a small laugh and smiled at him. "huh, Alright. See you after school then..." You then run off in hopes you wouldn't be late to your next period.

🏈Brandon stood there a bit frazzled, why did he say that? Why does he want to be tutored all of a sudden? Why was your smile so precious? Why is his face heating up???

🏈Before he could get his thoughts together, his friends approached him, ushering him to start moving or else he'll be given another detention. He snapped out of his confused state and tried to laugh off the thoughts of you swirling around his head.

🏈Who the hell were you to make him feel so...good?

an: making a part 2 soon, probably, hopefully. requests are open so feel free to give any suggestions of more funny lads to write about!

[00-jammy-00]

Helloo!!^_^

Could I request a yan who everyone likes? Like nobody would suspect yan!

I guess golden retriever!yan? Maybe darling tries to say something but nobody believes them because they think darling is trying to ruin yan’s reputation ? :33

Btw could I be 🍯 anon?

Yan!GoldenBoy HC’s

Yan!GoldenBoy x GN! Reader

Content warning - Yandere themes, obsession, murder, nsfw mentions, possessiveness, stalking, yan has mood swings, he’s a little bitch.

—————————————————————————————————

Yan!GoldenBoy who was good looking. He could get anything he wanted with a hand through his hair and a flash of his charming pearly whites. He knew he was handsome, he knew people trusted him, he knew all this and he knew it would only make it easier to get you.

Yan!GoldenBoy Who has been obsessed with you for months! He was playing basketball for his school when he saw you for the first time. You were just sitting on the benches, none of that cringe ‘they were reading a book instead of paying attention.’ you were simply watching the game but you looked so radiant while doing it, he couldn’t help but rush over when the game finished.

Yan!GoldenBoy Who tripped over his own feet to chase you down near the exit, he put an arm around your shoulders and flashed that charming smile. He talked to you for a few minutes, making sure to totally not brag about the fact he was the captain of the basketball team, he was really humble you know?

Yan!GoldenBoy Who offered you a car ride home with those gorgeous honey coloured eyes yet was completely shocked when you said no. You said…no? What the fuck does no mean? Who the fuck do you think you are?! You’re lucky he doesn’t fucking kill you!

Yan!GoldenBoy Who just gives you a sweet smile and insists only to clench his jaw when you refuse again. God you’re making this so fucking hard, you’re gorgeous, you’re everything, which means you’re meant to be his for fucks sake.

Yan!GoldenBoy Who vows he’ll never leave you alone. You’re destined to be his, you’re perfect, he’s perfect, so you have to be together, you’re soulmates! He uses a few favours to find out everything about you. Your address, who your family is, where you work, your favourite brand, what your favourite scent is, your zodiac sign, blood type, what hospital you were born at, what cemetery you might want to get buried at. You know, the usual stuff.

Yan!GoldenBoy Who is practically drooling as he jerks himself off to your underwear which he had…borrowed…from your house on his last so called visit. He had cum so much he was having dry orgasms babe! Why do you still not want him?! He could be so good for you!

Yan!GoldenBoy Who sits in his nice car with a pair of binoculars to make sure nothing strange is happening in your room. He’s just keeping you safe, what if someone comes around and tries to steal you?! Don’t worry, your boyfriend is here for you, he’ll protect you. Your boyfriend…god just the idea of being your boyfriend makes him hard all over again.

Yan!GoldenBoy Who doesn’t care if he has to beat the shit out of some people. Your classmate was found with a ripped open chest and a missing heart? That’s terrible babe, but he can be your lab partner now! That one annoying bitch in your class had a bullet between her eyes and her heart missing just like your classmate? How tragic! Don’t worry, you’re safe with him.

Yan!GoldenBoy Who delivers special presents to your door every time a little rat decides to try and ruin his plans. Maybe if he gifts you the hearts from his victims, you’ll let him into yours <3

——————————————————————————————————

Likes, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated, requests are open <3

please do not copy, repost or translate any of my works on other platforms without my permission.

[grimespial]

Too Sweet

Carl Grimes x Shane's Son Male reader

slightly aged up just for plot reasons

You did not have a good relationship with your dad.

He was practically two different people in public and private. In private you were mostly ignored, but if you weren't, then you were just a disappointment.

All because of Carl and Lori Grimes.

Nothing you could do would make him proud, he would throw you away in the blink of an eye if it meant taking Rick's place.

You and Carl used to get along, but you couldnt help but push him away, atleast it could be played off with you being older and teen moods.

Rick tried to include you, he was more of a dad to you than Shane, talking, playing, sports, just spending time but it just hurt.

So when the apocalypse starts, it's not a suprise you just happen to be left.

You somehow made your way to a farm, hoping it would be abandoned, but of course it wasn't and a woman on a horse came at you.

That's how you ended up joining the Greene family. It was hard. You actually got cared for, you practically were adopted

But then a boy was shot and Hershel had to help, and of course the people you honestly never wanted to see again had to show up.

Rick almost choked you with the hug he gave, Shane wasn't back yet, still out with Otis. The man who was teaching you to hunt with a gun because a knife won't always work.

Your dad came back, alone. You were already Maggie and Beth's brother, but Otis was like an older brother. And now he's gone.

When Carl woke up, Rick with all good intent, told him you were here. You would think it was magic how quickly he healed enough to go looking for you.

He was so insistent. Didn't matter how much you walked away, or replied rudely, he would just follow you everywhere.

For Carl, it was worth getting shot, because now you're back! He missed how you two hung out and when everything went down he didn't think he would ever see you again.

Everything was horrible with Shane, his whole group didn't even know you existed, even worse when they thought Shane was Carl's dad at the very beginning.

The Greene family were on edge around Shane, sometimes even getting hostile if he started crossing the line against their brother and son.

Rick had to step in and tell Shane to leave you alone until they found Sophia, because Hershel warned him they'd get kicked out if it continued.

Your relationship progressed without you or Carl noticing, but everyone else did.

Carl included you in everything, and included himself in anything you did.

It was hard to get over the jealousy, but with Shane gone and how Carl seemed so happy to spend time with you, like you were the greatest thing in the world, it was easier to heal.

Maggie was having the time of her life teasing you, hypocritical considering her and Glenn can't leave eachother alone.

What pushed you two to date was when Lori died. Daryl asked you to look after Carl, so you did. Spending time in his cell, getting him outside for some fresh air, just talking to him.

When he wanted some private time, you cared for Judith instead. Hershel joked that neither you or Beth should think about having a baby antime soon.

Maggie, humorous as always, told him there was no worry on your side unless Carl could get pregnant.

It was later when Carl came out of his cell, you were still looking after Judith while Beth made milk and Glenn helped Maggie make some food.

That night, you stayed up with Carl. He was struggling to sleep lately, so you stayed up until he fell asleep. This night he just started crying.

So you just hugged him. Nobody spoke. The only sound was Carl hiccuping and breathing while you wrapped your arm around his shoulder.

When Carl quieted down, he turned to see you, but you were already looking at him. And you were close.

It was easier to push away any feelings before, there was no time to think over feelings, more important things were happening.

But here you were face to face and before you knew it Carl kissed you.

Carl is practically your owner and you're the guard dog. Stubborn is your middle name, but one whisper of your name from Carl and you listen.

He never gets over the butterflies or blushing, you hold his hand and he's practically burning and trying to hold his smile back.

You constantly were protecting him. There was technically no need, he could take care of himself perfectly fine, but you insisted on it.

Sometimes it got annoying to him and he'd snap, Rick would end up explaining that you just care for him and dont want him to get hurt.

It's free entertainment for the adults watching you two go through a relationship.

You both sneak away from the group to make out, but when youre on the road its harder and Carl really doesn't want to make out in front of anyone, especially his dad.

You do end up breaking that rule one day, you were with Michonne after the prison fell, and when you found him you both just ran to eachother.

Cuddles are mandatory.

You have to be watched when eating, because you will just give Carl your food if it means he's healthier, Carl was not happy when he found this out.

Carl loves being pampered by you but he'll pretend he doesn't, but if you can't for whatever reason it doesn't feel right.

this is based off the Carl fic i have with the same premise, i might end up putting it on ao3...

[fandomnerd9602]

Returning to the House

Rhaenyra x Witcher!Reader

Request by @deafeningsharkslimeempath

The world didn’t need another member of the Hightower clan vying for the throne. You were Alicent’s older brother and your father had it in his own machinations for you to court, marry Rhaenyra and then take the throne from the Targaryens. But you couldn’t, wouldn’t. You were her friend, her confidant. So you left.

You took the steps, went thru the trials and process of becoming a Witcher. A hybrid witcher, all the strengths, very few weaknesses. You went thru out the greater Westeros, battling monsters and saving villages with the other witchers you called brothers in arms.

The townsfolk loved you. On a few occasions, you were paired up with the great Geralt of Rivia himself. He tried to get you to join him for a couple nights with a few women of the night but your heart was always bound to Rhaenyra.

No matter the distance, your heart yearned for the princess. Love. It was love that you felt for her. A love so deep and pure that it gave you the strength to power thru, to remain faithful to her when the grateful women of Westeros wished to thank you in private. You’d turn them down and keep moving. Your heart was only Rhaenyra’s.

You traveled up and down the coasts of Westeros for a couple years before you took a contract out on a being locals called the Crabfeeder. You knew it was just a man, an admiral but legend has a way of spreading faster than truth.

You found Prince Daemon engaged in a fierce sword battle with the Crabfeeder. You jumped into the fray and sliced the Crabfeeder’s throat, narrowly saving the prince’s life.

“As I live and breathe,” Daemon chuckled, “(Y/N) Hightower, is that you?”

“I haven’t been called that name in a long time” you answered back.

“Please accompany me back to the Iron Throne” he invited you, “the conquest is over and you just saved the prince’s life”

You traveled back to King’s Landing with Daemon. He tried to find various ways to thank you on the way there. Gold, riches, women, none of it appealed to you.

“We have the finest women in waiting in all of Westeros at our disposal and yet you say no?” He laughs, perhaps a little drunk

“There’s only one woman I love, your majesty” is all you answered back.

You walked into House Targaryen and were greeted by a sight that left you feeling nauseous. Your younger sister holding a little two year old boy. His hair was platinum white. Your mind was able to put two and two together as Daemon strolled up to Viserys his brother.

“Your majesty, this witcher saved my life.” He said brimming with pride. “I think you may recognize him.”

Viserys looked at you closely, his eyes brightened, “(Y/N)? Is that you?!”

“(Y/N),” Alicent gasped. She wasn’t sure whether to approach you or not.

“It appears much has changed in my absence.” You assert, “maybe not all for the best”

Otto, your father, walks and freezes, “(Y/N)? You’re home?”

“Perhaps I never should have left”

Daemon lets out a mocking breath, “awkward. My apologies”

And at that moment in walked the young woman who had your heart. Your best friend, Rhaenyra.

“Y/N” your name left her lips like a gentle whisper.

“Rhaenyra” you whispered back.

To Be Continued…

[jazziejax]

The Kildare County Surf Shop!

“Pope, wha-what was the line again?” John B, stuttered, awkwardly looking at the pair behind the camera. A sigh could be heard out of frame, Andy putting her face into her hand after watching her friend struggle for the hundredth time.

“Look, into the camera lens.” Pope said firmly, tried of his long time friend as well.

“Ok.”

“Don’t look at me, look at the camera.”

“Okay, sorry.” The dirty blonde as sheepishly before clearing his throat. The video then cut, completely starting over.

“Hey, OBX.” John B said, still as awkward as the first few times. “We’re the..new surf shop in town and we’re here to bring you a good time—” He trailed off before off before the camera zoomed out to show the porch of the shop.

“All the time!” Kiara, Sarah, Twitch and AJ, all popped out from around the corner of the open double doors. AJ immediately dropped her arms, giving the back of John B’s head a cold look.

“We’re supposed to be in sync, guys. It’s not that hard.” She complained with a slight shake of her head as she placed her hands on her hips.

“This is stupid!” Cleo whined from her place on the steps with French Fry and Porky, already tried of the constant filming and retakes of the commercial. Gavin pointed over at her from where he stood behind the shark that JJ had his head stuck in. “I’m with her.” He said.

“Cut!” Andy groaned, the video cutting to another clip.

“Kildare County Surf Shop!” Pope’s voice was heard over the commercial. “A one stop shop for all your island essentials.”

“T-Shirts!” Andy and JJ said at the same time. While the boy just held the shirts up for the camera, Andy showed the design on her back, pointing a thumb at it as she gave the camera a smirk over her shoulder.

“Boots!” Sarah smiled at the camera as she held a pair of boots in her hand. There was also a pair floating, upside down, next to her head. The camera zoomed out some to catch Andy doing a handstand to show the water proof shoes she had on. “Okay, cut it before I pass out.” She rasped out, the camera cutting just in time before she fell.

“Bucket Hats.” John B smiled at the camera as he held up a hat with his hand. He then moved and placed the hat onto Gavin’s head, who stood there with a straight face and his arms crossed. John B continued to give the camera a large smile, in contrast to his friend next to him, before the clip cut.

“Live bait!” Pope and AJ said enthusiastically, pointing to the fish in his girlfriend’s hand. The fish then twitched, causing Pope to flinch since it was so close to his face, while AJ just continued to smile at the camera, raising her brows twice before the clip cut.

“Kayak rentals!” Sarah yelled as she rowed within the small boat, the camera quickly zooming in so it could look as if she was really on the water instead of swaying on the dock.

“Fishing nets!” Kiara said with a smile as she held the large net out. She then turned to Twitch, placing the tool over his head, catching him in the net.

“For catching fish and thieves.” AJ smiled as she popped up from behind the counter, startling the pair. Twitch sharply gasped at her words before turning back to Pope, who held the camera. “You gotta cut that out, you know I have a case pending.” He finishes just before the camera cut.

“At the Kildare..Country Surf Shop, we treat our customers like..they’re gold.” Pope said stiffly, standing straight as he looked into the camera with an uncomfortable look in his eye. The camera dropped a little to show nothing but they’re legs and the golden god walking up to them, a voice behind the device speaking.

“Oh, babe, that was really bad.” AJ said softly as Pope walked closer. “Yeah, that sucked absolute ass.”Andy said bluntly, a small slap sounding out and the camera moving as the girl then hissed. “I know, I know.” Pope sighed defeatedly. “Why are you so stiff?”

“Yeah, it looks like someone was holding you at gun point.” Andy spoke again, the camera jolting slightly when AJ shoved her. “Yeah, I’ll just cut that out.” The boy groaned, the camera catching his bottom half walk closer to his girlfriend, who held her arms open for him to enter in defeat.

“Here at the surf shop, we believe that the board you ride should as personal as the wave you rip.” John B said as he looked down into the camera, showing the customized board on the ceilings.

“This is such an odd angle.” AJ said as she stepped into frame slightly, catching John B’s attention. “Wrong type of video if you know what I mean.” The camera cut just in time to catch the groans that sounded within the room.

“We have our local sea turtle lover, Kiara Carrera and resident artists Twitch and Andy who can make you a custom board, pottery and more.”

“Really get a vibe for your aura.” Kiara said to the camera, standing in her apron with the board material behind her. “Could be your sign or I could read your chakra and make you a board on those readings.” She said softly, gesturing over to the painting station behind her.

“I’m getting, like, a caaaaann-“ She trialed off softly as she painted the board, standing before a customer who was waiting.

“Oh, actually I’m a Scorpio.” The girl said.

“Scorpio.” Kiara finished, as if she already knew what the girl was going to say. “It was-It was either that-it was one of the two.” The girl said. The customer just nodded her head, an unsure frown on her features.

The camera then cut to Twitch, who stood in an apron as well with spray cans in his hands. “Yeah, I don’t do all that astronomy mumbo jumbo.” He waved off, the cans clicking in his hands. “I bring an unethical and graffiti type of vide to surfing that a lot of Kooks and tourist don’t really like. But I say rock on!” He smirked. The video then cut to another clip of Twitch, this time standing in front of a customer.

“Okay, so I was thinking an Asian style jaguar, crawling down the back of a Chinese dragon flying atop the clouds on Mount Fuji. Or, Pinhead on top of Cerberus, slicing the head off a Hydra.” He suggested. The camera then panned to a little boy, who scratched his head as he glanced over his shoulder for his parents. “Uh, I was thinking, like, a whale or something. My mom doesn’t let me watch scary movies.” He said innocently.

AJ softly cooed from behind the camera while Twitch just scoffed. “Well, I was watching horror movies before I could even speak but, whatever.” He shrugged before moving to grab his supplies. “My signature has to go on the bottom, that the rule. And that’ll be five hundred dollar so pay up, kid.” He said before harshly placing his supply crate on top of the surfboard, causing the little boy to flinch at the loud impact.

“Twitch!” AJ hissed while Andy sighed. “Just cut the damn cameras.” She said to Pope before the camera cut.

“I on the other end offer a variety of crafts.” Andy smirked to the camera, staring outside on her apron. “Inside you will see a few pottery items I’ve made, and I do customs as well.” She winked with a smirk. “And I also do caricatures! I’ve done portraits on boards for couples and family’s here and there.” She smiled.

The video then cut to the girl standing before a couple, the pairs arms wrapped around one another as they posed for the drawing. “What a lovely couple.” Andy smiled, looking between the pair. They laughed a little, turning to look into the other’s eyes. “It’s be a shame if you broke up.” She continued with a smile on her face, not seeing their smiles dripping slightly as she drew. “I mean, who would get the board if you did? Would even you even want the board? Especially if one of you cheats, that’d be so difficult.” She sighed softly before looking up at the pair. “But I doubt that’ll ever happen.” She cheesed as she looked between them, the couples face now blank. “I also do tattoos on the low.” She leaned forward to tell them, offering a wink before the camera quickly cut.

The video the cut to AJ, standing in behind the counter in the store. “And here we have Kain exclusives!” She said, gesturing to the ceramic cups and candies that littered the counter. “All pottery items and candles are hand crafted. We even do customs!” She said, the camera catching a pan of the well made and unique items. It then cut back to her, a smile of her face. “Only exclusive to Kildare County Surf Shop!” She grinned. Her smile only faltered slightly and before the camera cut, she continued. “And there may be some at Mama Heart’s near Figure Eight, but these are better.” She said before her face fell, serious as she looked into the camera lens. “No hate to you grandma.” She said

The video then cut to Gavin standing behind the same counter, face stoic as he leaned his weight onto counter. “You know him, you love him. Pouge Prince, Gavin Watts is here!” John B said as he popped in and gestured over to the boy. The other boys face didn’t move, looking into the camera. “AJ and I couldn’t be mechanics. So I work the counter.” He said simply. John B was just his awkward self, glancing at the boy while a voice spoke up from behind the camera.

“Be enthusiastic.” Andy whispered.

Gavin just help a thumbs up, nothing else changing. Andy sighed.

“This diva.” AJ laughed from behind the camera.

“So bring it on home to the Kildare County Surf Shop! Built by Pouges…” John B trialed off surely, just staring into the lens of the camera, not a thought behind his eyes.

“For Pouges.” Sarah and AJ said.

“For Pouges.” Pope continued.

“For Pouges.” Kiara cheered.

“Yeah, no Kooks allowed. I gut you!” Cleo hissed. “Yeah!” AJ yelled in excitement, trying and giving the girl a high five. “Yeah!” Andy just agreed to be a part of the enthusiasm, leaning her weight off of JJ. John B automatically agreed, pointing at the camera without much thought behind what the girls were actually saying before Gavin stepped in.

“Woah, some kooks.” He said, placing his hands on Cleo’s shoulders. “Some Kooks.” Pope agreed. “Yeah, that’s where the money is,” Twitch spoke up, and leaned against the railing on the other side of Kiara as he brushed his waves down out of pure boredom.

“And don’t forget to book your scuba and surf tour by..JJ Maybank.” The blonde boy suddenly cut in, gaining the rest of their attention. Andy stood next to him, her arm around his shoulder as she nodded and gave the camera a thumbs up. “Best guy for the job!” She said.

“The Kildare County Surf Shop!” Pope’s voice said over a clip of the group plus the pets sitting on the steps outside of the shop, waving at the drone as it rose high and higher. JJ and Gavin stood on the opposite ends of the group, not as enthusiastic as the others, even though Andy was lazily waving JJ’s hands for him. “Located on the old Maybank property.”

Andy was the first to stand up when she say the drone fly closer to the trees. “No, no.” She said as she rushed over, Pope on her trials, as well as French Fry, who thought they were playing a game. “No, no, no, no, no.” The boy said, but the drone stilled hit the bank of the tree, catching branches and then falling to the ground. “Ugh!” He groaned, on his knees as he inspected the expensive gadget to make sure everything was okay.

[kitsuvio]

· ୨୧ · · Yandere Cupid Headcanon

W/c : 465

A/N ┊AAAAAAAAAAAAA so i've been trying to make a masterlist but I have been slacking off. FYI I've been sleeping as well most of the time. But here's a cupid headcanon. (； _ ；)/~~

PAIRING ┊Yandere Cupid x Taken!Reader

TW ┊Kidnapping, love bombing (?), mentions of cheating, implied non-con

Yandere Cupid sat on the clouds each day; he looked down at the world below. He solemnly looked at the couples he matched. Some of them ended up well together, and others had broken up due to an imperfect match; while staring at the people below, he spotted you… Something about you pulled him into a trance.

Yan! Cupid desperately yearned for a lover on his own; it had been eons of matchmaking before someone caught his eye. You. He couldn't lie; he was head over heels for you. Other nasty thoughts filled up his head as he thought more and more about you. He wanted to overdose you with love arrows and potions until you're obsessed.

Yan! Cupid watches you and skips out on most of his duties. He was supposed to find people their lovers, but he was too infatuated to care.

Yan! Cupid's dreams were crushed when he saw you hanging out with another person. Who was he? Yan! Cupid would gag whenever you kissed that fool of a man; He meddled in the love lives of others, but not once has he thought love could be the thing that made him frustrated.

Watching you spending your life with your “boyfriend” made it agonizing for Yan! Cupid.

So, he did what he had to do. He made sure your little lover boy was making googly eyes to some other chick. He used his love arrows to match him with another lady.

Once you were crushed after you found out he was cheating on you, Yan! Cupid took this opportunity to bring you to his temple; it was located on a pretty stable mountain with beautiful scenery…He hoped that you'd be vulnerable enough to accept him. He thought that the fact that he took you away from your current life just to be with him was justified as long as you were with him.

When you were staying at the temple, Yan! Cupid smothered you with love and gifts. He tried sweet talking to you, making little teasing jokes. Making you feel much better than your past boyfriend ever did. Yan! Cupid gave you expensive gifts, but you still stayed non-compliant. How annoying…

Yan! Cupid still tried to shower you with affection, but seeing as these material things wouldn't woo you over. He went for a more physical approach. He knew he could just shoot you with one of his arrows or force-feed you some love potions, but that wouldn't be enough to satiate him.

Yan!cupid started growing touch-starved and he wanted more than just a few glances from you, he wanted more… With each day passing and you were slowly starting to warm up to him, he ruined all his progress by being impatient. He staked his claim on you by ravishing your body by force.

@kitsuvio

[yuyinesque]

hey sexy, give them a taste of indigo.

disclaimers — amab!reader, afab!oc, trans!catboy oc, riding, lipstick staining, desperation, implied praise kink.

Your kitty prefers “handsome” over “pretty” any damn day, that’s for sure.

Indigo’s hands smushed your cheeks together before as his tongue snuck inside of your mouth yet again, carelessly smudging the carmine-inspired lipstick against your lips. Frantic moans tumbled against the surface of your slob-coated lips as he failed to proceed with the aggressive kiss he initiated beforehand, resulting in him letting out an exasperated moan, his hips gyrating seraphically to subdue an upcoming breakdown. You then, reassuringly, demanded him to quiet down and focus while your cloudy touch journeyed from his waist and down his hips, encouragingly matching the rhythm of them so he could be influenced to dissipate his nerves. Uncharacteristically compliant and reasonable, he nodded drowsily, the subtle presentation of the example of “patience” causing his pussy to clench tightly around you.

“Mmh, n-no.. ffuck you.. Call me handsome again,” Indigo demanded after a moment of him stalling by grinding onto your dick rather than bouncing on it accordingly. Although his words, his jumbled, breathless, needy words, held no weight in the position he signed himself for, his expression was pleading and distressed, needing you to compliment him just a few more times before he could advance… even though he had little to no known way of inuring it. Even the way his ears remained pinned harshly against the top of his tousled head signified that he desired it just once more.

“Do it. Call me- uhn, now… ‘M your handsome boy..? Like this? L- Hah- A-Again..” He was on the brink of folding completely if he hadn’t already with that flush face, those subtle purrs, and a tight grasp on the end of his sweater, and that’s without implying the continuation of the hip circling, evidently trying to charm you into falling into his desires.

Yeah, he enjoys it quite a bit.

[antion-bewitching-bitch]

The budding flower of Hearts

Teaser/Pilot?

Descendants x male Oc (you can read it as a self-insert if you want)

Masterlist

Next Chapter

An: This will be a teaser to a fanfic I'm planning to start. It’ll be a descendants fanfic with a male oc who is the child of the queen of hearts (yes i saw descendants 4, i think i won’t like it nor use it. I’ll centre more on descendants 1, 2, & 3). This won’t be beta read, I'll be the one who’ll mostly check for mistakes but if you do see some, maybe comment and I'll try my best to edit! Hope you like it!

Ps. THIS IS LIKE MY FIRST TIME AND ALSO JUST PILOT SO NOT CHAPTER 1 YET.

1.5k words. No Trigger warnings that I know off.

“And who might you be dear?” The lady in a metallic blue dress asked; She was Fairy Godmother. The school’s mere environment with all its beautiful architecture, clear blue skies, greenery which was a far cry from the deserted land me and the others came from; just a few minutes ago.

“Eli” I muttered, lost in the new environment. Taking in the beautiful clear sky that looked so polluted and clouded back then, It was this beautiful blue now.

I was pulled back to focus when I felt a bump by Carlos, I was asked again. “Eli?”

“Ah! Sorry, my name; it's Eli des Lamproca Van Der Heart.” I tried to push through with how long my name was. “Please just call me Eli!” with a greeting of a low nod and a smile. My heart painted lips curving. They were staring at our alien appearance compared to them.

“Eli, a lovely name.” The Fairy gleefully said with her high pitched voice, doing her best to greet the weird kids who just showed up. “Welcome to Auradon prep! I'm Fairy Godmother, headmistress.”

Mal then quickened “The fairy godmother? As in, "Bibbidi-bobbidi-boo"?”. “Bibbidi-bobbidi. You know it.” The Fairy replied with a smile.

Everything else was forgettable, for I was annoyed that Jay was eying a random girl next to the Fairy. He was skittish and all that nonsense while loudly chewing the gum he had in the limo. I sighed as I continued looking around and noticed Carlos was still trying to fix his clothes with chocolate still in his lips.

I was then brought back to the conversation when the man spoke. “It's so good to finally meet you all! I'm Ben.” I then slanted my head wondering who this ‘Ben’ was. I saw his gaze go to mine.

“Prince! Benjamin. Soon to be king.” The girl next to him followed up quickly, so he was the reason we’re here. 

“You had me at prince. My mom's a queen, which makes me a princess.” Evie walked forward towards him, spinning around a bit and showing him her hand.

The girl then shook her head “The evil queen has no royal status here” Then i saw it “And neither do you.” her smile widened. She had this look in her eyes, gleeful to say the next line putting Evie in her place.

I pulled Evie back a bit next to me. Ben then awkwardly laughed and introduced this girl “This is Aubrey….”

“Princess! Aubrey.” she said while pointing her finger. She was reminding him, she was also royalty. “His. girlfriend.” she was wearing this fake smile. While Ben continued to look at her awkwardly. He isn’t fond of her. It seems so. “Right benny-boo~?” Ben was feeling uncomfortable while she wrapped her hand towards his.

Mal and I smiled back at them. I truly didn’t care for the next gibber gabber of the Fairy with all that talk about some library in the end. 

Ben was behind her and I noticed Aubrey trying to take his hand once but he harshly took it back not wanting to be all touchy in front of us it seems. After the fairy walked away, He stepped forward and offered his hand towards Jay to shake.

 “It is so, so, so good to finally me-meet you all.” Jay, that idiot. He pushed him away. But smiled back at him, He didn’t want to shake his hand while he shook his head. He continued to Mal and shook her hand then stared a bit…

“This is a momentous occasion,” he continued while Mal then shakes her hand like it had been infected “and one that I hope will go down in history. Is that chocolate?” What a mess; Carlos with his already messy face had chocolate covered hands; But then the prince licked his finger clean, and gave me a look. Weird. “As the day our two peoples began to heal.” He shook Evie’s Hand while Aubrey behind him eyed her as she stared at him.

He finally reached me, “What was that pause earlier with Mal?” I asked him while we shook hands and he stared at me and smiled brightly “Ah. nothing! It wa-was nothing. Eli right? Beautiful name”. Weird. 

Aubrey was getting a bit annoyed at him staring at us, but now more so at me. “Hey! You're the mad queen’s son right?” she directed towards me while I nodded with a fake smile; with Ben still staring at me but still wasn’t letting go of my hand. What exactly is going through his mind? “Yeah, you know what? I totally don’t believe the rumours, you’re not that insane!” 

What a bitch. 

Ben then was back to reality when he saw my smile fade a bit and realizing the situation while finally letting go of my hand. I just said nothing since if I did I might have slapped her. He was now looking towards Aubrey and seemed to be thinking of something.

“And you! You’re Maleficent's daughter, aren't you?” She then directed at Mal and stepped a bit closer to her. “Yeah, you know what? I totally do not blame you for your mother trying to kill my parents and stuff.” she rambled.

“Oh! my mom's Aurora. Sleeping~” She proclaimed, faking dumb; she stared at Mal insuating for her to continue. “Beauty!” Mal continued the atmosphere now being awkward.

“Yeah, I've heard the name. You know, and I totally do not blame your grandparents for inviting everyone in the whole world but my mother to their stupid christening.” They smiled back at each other. “Water under the bridge” Aubrey replied smiling. “Totes!” Mal wasn’t backing down. 

What plastics honestly.

Ben grabbed Aubrey away from us and continued while defusing the situation “Okay! So, how about a tour?” We all were silent. So was I. I was just observing really. “Yeah?” He showed us forward and we walked behind him. Evie continued to walk beside me and linked our arms; while Mal was in front of us behind Ben and Aubrey. With Jay and Carlos messing around with each other behind us.

“Auradon prep, originally built over 300 years ago and converted into a high school by my father wh-” 

The yapping of Ben faded as Evie gave me a look of concern. She began “Do yo- Do you think other royals will hate us?”. It was a genuine concern, both me and her were of true royal blood. “Do you think your father will hate you?” I asked her, she was a child of not only the 'Evil Queen' but also the King. She and Snow White were half-siblings.

“I haven’t really met him, I’ve never had…” She continues on. She asked me “Do you think your aunt will hate you?”. The White Queen, the sister of my mother. The one who sentenced her to the wastelands for unity with the other nations.

“Mother said she would have loved me. Though, we haven’t met either” I was going to continue but then we all came to a stop. Ben saw Carlos.

“Carlos.” He said. Carlos was behind Jay’s back, now terrified of the bronze? Statue that was earlier a man now a beast. Carlos must be afraid since it looked like a dog. “It's okay.” He was trying to reassure him to not be that fearful.

“My father wanted his statue to morph from beast to man to remind us that anything is possible.” His father. The king of this united land. I heard of his father’s tale with the beauty that is belle. “Do you resent the witch who cursed your father?” I remembered the beginning of the tale.

“Do you even know the witch? I never heard of them just of their curse towards him”

He laughed again before answering, but now it wasn’t a forced one like earlier with Aubrey. “For the first question, no. I don’t resent them. For the second. I think… even my father doesn’t know them?” He started to scratch his chin while thinking back. Aubrey asked back “Why ask Eli? Why so curious about curses?”

It was clear my curiosity was for him and the witch itself, not the curse. She was clearing trying to put words in my mouth. I laughed a bit at her question, I replied with a smile. “Why not? Scared of my madness?”

“So you guys have a lot of magic here in Auradon?” Mal asked changing the topic while we continued walking inside the school, clearly ignoring the conflict while also using it as a time to gain some information. “Like wands and things like that?”

Ben stole a glance at me before answering Mal’s question. At first it was Mal he was staring at, now me? “Yeah, it exists of course, but It's pretty much retired.” he smiled a bit. “Most of us here are just ordinary mortals.” He nodded with us now being inside the school and at the center of a grand hall with large staircases leading to places we haven’t seen yet.

THATS IT. THATS THE TEASER/PILOT OF THE FANFIC

im sorry if you wanted more and etc. but i just wanted to show just this and i might even change some more stuff in the future just in case too.

I HOPE YOU ENJOYED IT AND PLEASE LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG AND MOSTLY FOLLOW ME SO I KNOW I SHOULD CONTINUE <3 <3 <3

If its bad just tell me so I can delete this since I am just generally shy since its my first time posting stuff like this

[sleepdeprivedandoverthinking]

When I can't find good male reader stuff I get desperate and read gn reader (even if it's like painfully obvious the writer made them fem) and pretend they're talking about a guy.

Like ah yes, he likes my man tits. That is it.

[gingeralecranberry]

CHAPTER 1

𝟐-𝟏 ; 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐛𝐣𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

AS YOU’RE RIPPING ME TO SHREDS

☺︎ cw:

mentions of death, fighting, canon-typical violence, gojo may be ooc he's a lil bit of a weirdo, sukuna and gojo both deserve their own warnings, scarring, brief mention/description of injuries, Megumi is an edgy teen, that one scene were itadori is chained to that weird ass pole, mentions of executions, semi-graphic descriptions of Sukuna's finger (cause it really is disgusting)

"Under Jujustu regulations, Itadori Yuji, I will exorcize you as a curse!"

Under the shrouded night sky, the moonlight blanketed the scattered chunks of jagged debris strewn across the school rooftop in a soft radiance. The holes in the structure croaked with a melancholy groan, the noise swept away by the sound of the wind. Spiderweb-esque cracks stretched their slender fingers across the concrete, across the pale gray walls, across the splintered siding of the building.

"Wait, really, I'm fine!"

Across the expanse of carnage, the two teenagers stared each other down.

The older of the two boys sat on the far end of the building, laying in a pool of his own blood. Spiky black hair matted to his forehead, both from sweat and his injuries, he raised both his fists in a false circle. The heightened collar on his gakuran cast an intimidating shadow over the lower half of his face, highlighting the kindlings of desperation burning in his muted green eyes.

The younger of the two, a much more spritely and jovial personality, raised both his hands in mock surrender. The pink hair that'd previously been ruffled to stand up nearly straight cascaded down towards his forehead again, the ominous black markings all over his body seemingly being swallowed by the flesh tone of his skin. The sharp black talons on the ends of each finger dissolved, almost as if they'd never been there in the first place.

"More importantly, you and I are both pretty beat up, let's get to a hospital."

Stuck at odds with his logical rationale and his gut feeling, Megumi Fushiguro could feel the familiar feeling of frustration welling up in his throat.

'I can't tell if the one speaking right now is Itadori or the cursed object! Damn it...'

His hands were stationary, still in the same faux circle he'd arranged them in earlier. He hesitated to drop the stance, fearing an ambush.

'...What should I do?!'

In the near deafening silence, both of the combatants failed to notice the presence of a third person on the roof. As if it were just any other day, the new guy waltzed in seemingly without a care.

"What's the situation?"

Fushiguro immediately dropped his hands in favor of whipping around to look behind him, jaw dropping open as his eyes settled on the familiar sight of his teacher. His internal wheel of emotions seemed to spin back and forth between horror, relief, and utter mortification. Eventually, his wheel settled for a nightmare cocktail blessed by all of the above! "Wha... Gojo-sensei?! What are you doing here?!"

Kitted up in his signature gakuran, blindfold, and a bag from the local pastry shop, his white hair stuck up from the pressure of the blindfold on either side of his face.

Leisurely, he greeted his student with a smile, "Hey." He stood idly on the sidelines with his hands shoved in his pockets, "I wasn't planning on coming, but man, you're roughed up..." As though a million dollar idea flashed on a big screen behind his blindfold, a cruel grin ran its way up the man's cheeks, "I should show the second years."

His student grimaced, doing his best to twist his broken body away from the camera. He hissed through gritted teeth, swallowing both his physical AND mental pain in an effort to keep his dignity. Still, Gojo persisted, leaning in close as he began to snap what the Sendai-student assumed were dozens of pictures. "Hahaha! Face this way!"

Itadori could only stand by and watch in what he described as abject horror-fascination.

Eventually, when it seemed the older man got his fill of amusement, he stuffed his phone back into his pocket. "The higher-ups wouldn't shut up with a special-grade cursed object gone missing, so I stopped by while doing some sightseeing." Curiously, he examined the surrounding area through the confines of the black fabric pressed over his eyes. "So, did you find it?"

"..."

"..."

The teenagers exchanged glances momentarily.

"Um..."

Oblivious to the situation at hand, Gojo tilted his head to the side, "Hm?"

"I-"

"He ate it."

Collectively, all heads turned towards the voice originating from the huge hole in the concrete wall of the school.

"Huh?"

Quiet footsteps resounded against the desecrated rooftop in the dead silence of the encounter. Peeking from the shadows cast by the ruined architecture, a tall man in strange attire stepped into the low light of the moon. Donning a pair of black hakama pants and a matching plain black haori jacket, he traipsed towards the trio missing the common trepidation one would have when confronting the strongest curse alive.

He raised a finger, matter of factly, "The finger, he ate it."

The two teenagers blinked at him stupidly.

Gojo's posture, on the other hand, straightened with excited recognition, "Sensei!"

'Sensei? That guy barely looks any older!'

Before Itadori could think about it any further, the white-haired teacher disappeared from view before reappearing on the other side of the rooftop. In the blink of an eye, he was already falling into stride alongside the newcomer with an eerily calculated ease. "What are you doing here?"

Still, the stranger paid no mind to the sudden change in position, walking forward at the same measured pace, "It's been 10 years since you graduated Gojo. You don't need to call me Sensei, especially since we're coworkers now."

The other sorcerer hummed, "Well, calling you by your last name feels too formal, but I don't wanna say your first name..." He trailed off, letting the silence hang in the air for an uncomfortably long amount of time.

"..."

Finally, he tacked on, "So... What are you doing here? Did you miss me so much you had to visit? No need to feel embarrassed!"

Fushiguro could feel his nose crinkle in disgust.

'God, he's humiliating.'

Completely unphased, the older man's eyes were still trained forward and locked on target. "When one of Sukuna's fingers goes missing, it doesn't take a genius to figure out the higher-ups are going to panic. I was sent in as back-up." Finally he came to a stop in front of the pink-haired teen in quest, "Itadori, was it?"

"..."

"..."

"..."

The 15-year-old gulped down a lump of spit, tilting his neck to look up into the other's (eye-color) pupils.

Instead of trying to kill him (like expected), the stranger offered a hand, "(name) (surname), may I?"

"..."

"..."

"...Huh?"

"Oh, uh-" The man shook his head, cringing a little at his own lack of decorum, "Sorry, I should probably explain myself first." He retracted his hand in favor of letting it fall to his side again. "I'm a cursed object specialist. Since you swallowed a cursed object, I want to do a quick check to make sure nothing's wrong with you."

"Oh," Yuji murmured, "Yeah... yeah, that's fine."

(name)'s neutral face shifted to a grateful smile, doing a quick visual inspection first.

'No signs of markings... but what are those?'

Without warning, the older man's hand gripped the teen's chin gently, tilting his head to the side to scrutinize the new scarring on his cheekbones.

A moment of silence passed among the group.

Finally, the specialist's arm returned to his side, "Fascinating..." He placed a hand on his chin, sitting on any potential questions before asking, "Does anything feel off with your body?"

The teen glanced over his appendages, looking for any injuries, "Not particularly."

He hummed again, satisfied, "Truly fascinating."

Laying a hand on (name)'s shoulder, Gojo moved his former teacher out of the way before inspecting the teen himself. "Damn, it really did combine with you... That's hilarious!" He trailed off, continuing to scan the composition of the teen's newly concocted and brewed cursed energy. There seemed to be a particularly mischievous idea forming in his head, indicated by the curling of his lips. "Say, can you swap out with Sukuna?"

Itadori blinked, "Sukuna?"

Gojo nodded, "The curse you ate."

The teen paused, "Oh... Yeah, I think I can do that."

Upon being given the greenlight, the white-haired menace started to stretch. Rolling his shoulders and squatting to open up his legs he continued, "Then give us ten seconds."

Megumi opened his mouth to voice protest, but (name) simply shook his head in response.

The teacher righted his posture, shaking out his arms, "Once ten seconds are up, come back to us."

Seemingly already familiar with the danger pertaining to the entity inside him, the younger teen also seemed hesitant to comply, "But..."

Immediately, he was cut off, "Don't worry. I'm the strongest." Upon seeing the boy's shoulders relax a little, he called over his shoulder. "Megumi."

Fushiguro gave a small grunt in response.

"Hold on to this."

Despite tossing it to his student, (name) ended up catching the bag in one hand and shifting to wedge himself between Megumi and where the fight was going to take place.

Fushiguro's eyes trailed up to the bag, gesturing towards it with his less injured arm, "What is that?"

"Kikufuku from Kikusuian!" As if he wasn't about to go up against the King of Curses, Gojo smiled eagerly and started to make over the top gestures with his hands as he spoke, "It's Sendai's speciality, and it's super good. I personally recommend the zunda and cream flavor!"

Quietly, the eldest of the four released a tired sigh, holding the twine straps in one hand. Megumi, though, narrowed his eyes, mumbling a rather pissed off, "This guy actually went and bought souvenirs when people were out here dying...!"

As Gojo went on to argue about the specifics of his souvenir shopping with his student, (name) closed his eyes, allowing the thrum of cursed energy to trace the outlines of his feet where they connected with the ground. Despite having fought special grade curses as a special grade sorcerer, the man still hadn't ever faced such... malicious decadence twisted into the very source of the energy itself.

Undoubtedly, the King of Curses was only a handful of yards away.

Then he wasn't.

Megumi's body surged forward in alarm, "Behind you!"

His teacher paid his cry no mind, wagging a finger at him with a hand on his hip, "Kikufuku's not like other souvenirs-"

The large cloud of dust exploded from what little remained of the concrete floor, brushing against your closed eyelids. As if tapping into your third eye, the outline of the battlefield appeared like a blueprint before the expanse of darkness in your head...

...two large husks of cursed energy gave particularly strong outlines.

"--And the whipped cream inside is simply exquisite."

You fanned away some of the aftershocks of the explosion with your hand, opening your eyes.

Not even a foot in front of you, the Ryomen Sukuna was hunched over... with your former student perched on his back.

The curse gave an angry laugh, immediately weaving to strike Gojo again. He wasn't expecting the man to match his pace, ducking and sliding out of the way with every fist that came soaring his direction. Eventually, instead of dodging, the man parried, sending the Curse hurtling through the air to the other end of the rooftop.

Another plume of dust flew up like a smoke wall, obscuring the King from view.

"My student's watching, so I'm going to show off a little."

Ah... something about hearing his own former student saying that made a little memory in the recesses of (name)'s heart flutter with bittersweet nostalgia. He remembered when he would've done the same thing.

Oh, to be young and stupid.

With something akin to a groan, Sukuna advanced again.

'He's unbelievably fast? No, that's not it.'

The two met midair, the curse finding itself on the receiving end of a fist straight to the face. Once agaain thrown nearly head first into the decaying building, he clicked his tongue in annoyance, just barely managing to correct his footing before landing, "For crying out loud... You jujutsu sorcerers are always trouble, no matter the era!"

Following his proclamation, he leapt into the air, bringing his wrath down onto the roof where his opponent stood. Before he could make contact with the floor however, it seemed the concrete hardened and reinforced itself with an electrifying concentration of cursed energy. Two of his four eyes glanced to the source, widening.

'That volume of cursed energy... and yet it doesn't feel as though he has any.'

(name) stood to the side, hands behind his back. His eyes were, once again, closed.

"Seven... Eight... Nine..."

Sukuna let out an exasperated growl, chest heaving with the excessive exertion.

"Should be time."

Instantaneously, all muscle control seemed to slip through the curse's fingers like sand through a sieve. Any attempt to grasp at motor function only served for it to escape him quicker.

'Damn it... Again? I can't take over. Who the hell is this... Itadori... brat?'

(name) peeled his eyes open, enamored as he recollected his cursed energy from the environment. He watched the malevolent aura of the King dwindle and dwindle until it was no more than a blot of the outline of Itadori's soul.

The teen's body slowly returned to normality, tattoos and nails regressing to that of the average human. The eyes on the side of his head closed into scars once again, "Oh, was everything okay?"

From the heart of the explosion, the remaining sorcerer sauntered back over the group. Gojo gave a lopsided smirk at the sight, looking over Itadori again with his Six Eyes. "I'm shocked. You really can control it!"

The pink-haired teen nodded, hitting at the side of his head with furrowed brows, "He's kind of annoying though, I can hear his voice."

(name) hummed, "That's to be expected when you're a vessel."

The other teacher expressed his own agreement, "It's a miracle that's all he's doing."

Just like the cursed object specialist had done earlier, when Gojo approached and outstretched his hand towards Yuji's face, the highschooler didn't pay any mind. This time however, when two fingers made contact with his forehead, something didn't quite feel right. With maybe a millisecond to register the strange sensation, his eyelids started to droop. Fighting to keep them open, he made a noise between alarm and discomfort, instantaneously confronted with the creeping, rapidly expanding feeling of his body turning to lead.

"What did you do?"

The youngest of the four crumbled, chin unceremoniously knocking on the sorcerer's sturdy shoulder.

"Knocked him out," he rearranged the Sendai student's body to drape across his back. "If he isn't possessed by Sukuna when he wakes up, he might have potential as a vessel. Now, Megumi, I have a question for you."

"..."

"What should we do with him?"

(name) grimaced, watching the uncomfortable bend of the teenager's spine over the curvature of the other man's back.

Like the responsible kid he was, Fushiguro ruminated on his thoughts before he made a final decision. It was almost as though his eyes reflected each and every one of the potential outcomes while his brain parsed through the best and worst what-if scenarios.

"Even if he is a vessel, Jujutsu regulations demand Itadori be executed."

The cursed object specialist hadn't realized he'd been holding his breath the entire time he observed the first-year. Whether out of interest or apathy, he couldn't tell. Still, he offered a small sigh.

"...However,"

(name) paused.

Fushiguro's eyes met Gojo's, piercing through him with a thousand-yard stare, intense and packed with conviction, "I don't want to let him die."

"..."

"..."

His teacher's lips peeled back into a coy smile, "Personal feeling?"

The young man nodded, completely resolute in his decision, "Yes. Please do something about this."

His teacher's smile only grew wider, a single hand reaching up to brush through his untamed white hair with a quiet snicker, "Now it's a request from a precious student... Leave it to me."

"Wait."

Teacher and student whipped around to the other man situated just a few feet away.

The man cleared his throat, suddenly feeling a little embarrassed that all attention was situated squarely on his shoulders.

"..."

"..."

"...Let me carry him, Satoru."

"..."

"..."

A breeze drifting by was seemingly swept up in the silence that wrapped up the destroyed rooftop like a blanket.

There was a snort.

Then Gojo broke out into laughter.

(name)'s cheeks sprouted a flustered pink hue, extending from the roots to fan the flame over his nose and cheekbones. "You're holding him like a sack of potatoes," He averted eye contact, looking towards the waning moon, "he's already going to be sore after being thrown around like a ragdoll, I thought I would at least spare him the unnecessary back pain."

The sorcerer, despite his blindfold, made the motion of wiping a fake tear from his eye as his boisterous laugh echoed into a near silent chuckle. He took another deep breath, resting his hand on his stomach, "Always so doting to students... I wonder where all that was when you were teaching me."

Fushiguro felt like he wanted to vomit.

'God, he's so fucking cringe.'

"But... the recap and current events don't line up."

The room was dark, its only challenger being the gentle light offered by a generous collective of candles haphazardly stationed around the gloomy chamber. While their burning wax dripped onto the dirty concrete floor, the flame dancing at the end of each wick revealed the hundreds--thousands--of sigils and talismans looming above. The pages, yellowed with age, acted like impromptu wallpaper. A few corners beginning to peel, a few ink-stained fingerprints on others, the imperfections in the calligraphy didn't stifle the atmosphere in the slightest. The energy seeping in from the unknown, shadowy corners of the room was suffocating.

“Hey, I did my best.” 

Sitting with his front pressed against the back of a plain wooden chair, Gojo observed the teenager through his blindfold.  His Six Eyes traced over the intricacies of newfound cursed energy, almost mesmerized by the twisting, turning, warping of the two souls manifested in his singular body.  He rested his forearm against the back of his seat, “The execution’s still on, but I managed to get your sentence suspended.” 

“Suspended?”

Itadori sat flat on the ground, leaning against the room’s singular pillar.  Large, steel manacles weighed heavy on his wrists.  The chains that bound his cuffs to the room’s far wall were thick like pythons.  Wrapping around the pillar like a pair of constrictors, they criss-crossed over one another in an x before melding into their respective anchors. 

“So you’re not killing me right away?” 

Staring into Gojo’s blindfold felt weird and unnatural, but the teen didn’t really have any other options. 

“Yup,” The man would be the one to break eye contact first, maneuvering to reach into his gakuran’s pocket, “I’ll explain it from the top.” 

His slender hand returned with something that looked very familiar.   He presented the object proudly, holding it up in front of Itadori’s expectant face.  “This is the same as the cursed object you ate.” 

Amber eyes raked over the grotesque appendage.   Ugly, wrinkly purple skin scrunched around the knuckles in an uncanny manner that sent uncomfortable tingles down Yuji’s spine.   The texture was only made worse by the lack of a clean cut, bits of flesh left hanging off the finger.  Being this close to it made the hair on the back of his neck stand up. 

“There are twenty in total.  We currently possess six.” 

Looking at it was like watching an accident.   It was deeply disturbing but it retained this all powerful magnetic quality that made it near impossible to look away. 

“Twenty?” 

Fighting his compulsion to stare, Itadori made eye contact with the sorcerer sitting in front of him, “Each finger and toe?” 

Gojo’s smile only grew wider and more unsettling in the low light, “No, Sukuna has four arms.” 

Without a heads up, the older man tossed the cursed object into the air.  In the nanosecond it took the Sendai Student to glance at the sudden movement, an abundance of cursed energy crackled to life like electricity.  It snapped like a whip, launching the finger in a cloud of smoke. 

“...”

“...As you can see, we can’t destroy them.  The curse is just that powerful.” 

The boy’s jaw hung open like the fat koi fish in the pond he’d pass on the way home.  Staring at the fresh crater in the previously unblemished wall of talisman, he failed to notice the teacher standing up from his seat. 

Delicately plucking the curse from the steaming indentation he’d lovingly branded into the side of the room, he sauntered back over to his wooden chair.  Completely relaxed, his airy lilt carried through the room, “The curse grows stronger every day, and the seals of modern-day jujutsu sorcerers just can’t keep up.” 

Tucking the finger back into his pocket, he threw his leg over the wooden seat, “That’s where you come in.” 

Finally closing his mouth, the teenager blinked at him. 

“...Huh?” 

“You see, when you die, the curse inside you dies as well.”  Dramatically, the sorcerer slumped forward with a sigh, “Our elders are total cowards, you know? They’re demanding we kill you right away.” 

“...”

Gojo pursed his lips, “But that would be a waste, wouldn’t it?” 

Itadori cocked his head to the side, struggling to process the clusterfuck of information he had unceremoniously dumped onto his unsuspecting lap, “A waste?” 

Resting the side of his face against his palm with an awkwardly cheerful ‘mhm!’, the white-haired stranger went on, “There’s no guarantee another vessel capable of handling Sukuna will ever be born again, so this is what I proposed,” he held up a pointer finger, waving it around to punctuate his statement, “If we’re going to kill you anyway… why not kill you after you’ve absorbed  ALL of Sukuna?”

“...”

“...”

Gojo crossed his arms over the back of his wooden perch, offering a non committal hum, “It took a lot of convincing, and Sensei had to pitch in, but eventually, the higher-ups agreed… so now you have two options before you.” 

Staring into the blank darkness of the black blindfold, Itadori finally seemed to notice how dry the inside of his mouth was.  

“You can either die right now…”

He swallowed.

“…or you can find all the parts of Sukuna and die after you’ve absorbed them.” 

JAZMIN BEAN : FAVORITE TOY

☺︎ taglist:

@angelkazusstuff @ahoeindeedinneed @wutap @mysouleaten @ilovebattinson @satansdaughter123

masterlist ☓

[angelsfat3]

ⓘㅤ 𝐑𝐄𝐅𝐋𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍. ⠀⠀( 我在你身上的反映。)

𝓢ummary “ ✉. After leaving the city to study high school and college in another country, after several years you decide to return. A breath of fresh air, and with it, a new job, if only you knew what was waiting for you.

⠀،،⠀Genre. ’ Angst, tension, enemies to lovers.

( 𝒄/𝒘. )───Not reviewed, none. (tell me if I'm wrong!)

You knew it was a bad idea the moment you stepped through those glass doors, but your feet kept moving forward, ignoring the warning in your chest. You weren’t expecting to see him here.

Not so soon. Not like this.

And yet, there he is. Eric. Sitting behind that imposing desk, with the same arrogant posture that both captivated and infuriated you. His hair, slightly shorter than you remembered, catches the sunlight streaming through the massive windows behind him. The fitted shirt, the expensive watch. He’s the same, yet different. More mature. More untouchable.

“[...], What a surprise.”

Your name slips from his lips like a bullet. Short, direct, his voice steady, though there’s something in his eyes… something off. He looks at you as if you’re a ghost he never thought he’d see again. And despite your efforts to remain composed, the sound of his voice hits you hard, an echo of nights when he whispered your name in the dark.

“What are you doing here?” he asks, as if you’re a stranger, as if nine years haven’t passed, as if you weren’t everything to him once.

Your throat dries up. You had a speech prepared, rehearsed, but it crumbles into meaningless fragments under his gaze. Still, you manage to force the words out:

“I’m here for the job opening.”

His lips curl into something that isn’t quite a smile. It’s more like a reminder of everything you lost, of everything you took from him when you decided to disappear.

Not even a letter, a last call. You left as fast as a shooting star.

“Work, huh?” he mutters, leaning back in his chair as he looks you up and down. His eyes are cold, calculating, but there’s something else there—something he can’t hide.

And then it hits you. He hates you. But not as much as you hate yourself for realizing that seeing him hurts less than never having seen him at all.

The cubicle they assigned you was small, almost claustrophobic, as if Eric wanted to make sure you remembered your place. A place that wasn’t his, though, when you looked at it from your seat, it was hard not to feel the pressure of his gaze.

His office was up front, like an impenetrable fortress from where he watched you, getting closer and yet more distant at the same time. Each passing day, the space between you two felt thicker, heavier.

Your first day at the company was nothing more than a repetition of the same pattern.

He handed you a never-ending stack of papers, reports you could barely process in one glance.

When you sat down to review them, you noticed he’d left clear instructions: "Nothing less than perfect," and though he didn’t say it with anger, there was a pressure in his words that made you question everything you knew about work and expectations.

Hours flew by, but never fast enough. There was so much to do, you didn’t even realize it was getting dark until the clock hit midnight.

It happened often. You’d review the same reports over and over, searching for the slightest mistake. The workload felt like an impossible mountain to climb, but you knew if you didn’t do it, he’d find any excuse to get rid of you.

His tone wasn’t cruel, but the moment he handed something back with even the smallest correction, you felt like he was rejecting you. He’d look at you mercilessly, expecting you to fix it, to improve, or just leave.

"One more mistake and you’re out," he’d said on the first day, and he repeated it every time he passed your cubicle, his gaze evaluating every move you made, every detail you missed.

Sometimes it felt like the days stretched longer than they should. The hours didn’t turn into nights; the nights stretched until dawn found you staring at a blank screen, wishing you could close it and forget everything. There were times when you stayed late, working non-stop, until it felt like the keys on the keyboard fused with your skin.

It was easier to stay there than face the reality that you were trapped. Eric, with his impatience, his extreme perfectionism, had become a constant in your life.

A couple of nights after staying late at the office, while the rest of the staff had gone home, you heard footsteps. You looked up and saw him. Eric, standing in the doorway of his office, holding a cup of coffee.

He watched you, his cold, calculating eyes scanning you, evaluating something more than just the work in front of you. It was impossible not to notice how he lingered just a second longer than necessary. With a slight tilt of his head, as if nothing were out of the ordinary, he walked away without saying a word, leaving you alone in your cubicle with the untouched coffee cup on the desk.

The next day, the employees arrived as usual, unaware of the chaos you’d immersed yourself in, the sleepless nights, the palpable stress that had consumed you. And yet, Eric remained distant, watching you from his office with the same cold stare that seemed like a sentence.

No one asked why you’d stayed so late, but you knew Eric had noticed. There was something in the way he looked at you, something that made the pressure feel even stronger. Sometimes, his corrections, even the smallest ones, left you with a feeling of emptiness. There was a desire to push yourself beyond your limits to meet something that never seemed good enough for him.

The meetings were even harder. Every time you entered his office, the atmosphere charged with an electricity that made you feel vulnerable, exposed.

The critiques were harsh, public, and always came with almost painful precision. You felt like no matter how hard you tried, nothing was ever done well enough. The glances exchanged by the others in the room, the murmurs, all faded away as he pointed out each mistake.

Time, that constant sense of being trapped, was the only thing that kept you sane.

There was one particularly difficult meeting where you were left speechless. As he spoke, you dropped a pen.

You bent down to pick it up, and when you straightened up, your eyes met his. It was a second. A second that felt like an eternity. In his eyes, there was something you couldn’t identify, something beyond the cold disapproval. There was anger, yes, but also... something more. Perhaps regret. Perhaps pain. But before you could process it, he looked away and continued the conversation as if nothing had happened.

Yet, that look stayed etched in your mind, like an invisible mark that kept burning, day after day.

Sometimes, after those exchanges, you felt like breathing was harder than continuing to work. The days seemed to drain all the energy you had, until you didn’t know if you were working for him or for yourself. The line between the two was becoming increasingly blurry, as if everything outside of that office and outside his orders didn’t matter.

One night, you fell asleep at your desk. The work kept piling up, but the fatigue was unbearable.

You woke up to the sound of footsteps approaching. You opened your eyes slowly, and there he was. Eric, again, standing in front of you, this time with a cup of coffee in his hands. He looked at you steadily, his expression serious, almost thoughtful. For a moment, the room seemed to stop.

“If you keep working like this, you’re going to collapse.” he said, his voice softer than you’d heard in weeks.

You were surprised by the warmth in his words, but you couldn’t say anything. You stayed silent, watching him as he placed the cup on your desk. He lingered there for a moment, without saying another word. Then, he turned and walked back to his office, leaving the coffee untouched.

The air in the room grew even denser. You knew something had changed, though you didn’t understand what. Eric hadn’t said another word, but there was something in his gaze that told you the game between you two wasn’t over. Whatever was happening between you, it was no longer just about work. There was something personal, something much deeper, that neither of you was willing to admit.

Ashes of a bonfire of love, perhaps? Cliche, but true.

The days went by, and with each one, Eric's attitude toward you began to change. At first, it seemed like a coincidence, just a formality.

He included you more in important meetings, his work expectations eased, and he no longer looked at you with the same critical, distant gaze.

He even started offering you more help than you ever expected. He asked for your opinion on matters that previously wouldn’t have concerned him. How kind.

There was a softness in his demeanor, a change you couldn’t ignore, but at the same time, it unsettled you. The relationship between you two was transforming, and while the line remained strictly professional, something else lingered in the air.

Or so you thought, I don't know.

One morning, on one of the hottest days of the season, you found yourself in the elevator with Eric, heading to an important meeting. The confined space between you made the atmosphere feel thick, charged with something neither of you wanted to acknowledge.

The only sounds were the elevator ascending and Eric’s faint sigh, breaking the silence. With each floor, the tension grew, as if the world had shrunk to that small metal box.

Suddenly, Eric broke the silence, his voice softer than usual but laced with an intent that sent a chill through you.

“Seriously, you should take a few days off,” he said, his tone firm but carrying a concern you hadn’t noticed before. It wasn’t merely a suggestion; it was an order disguised as advice. He glanced at you sideways, noting the pallor on your face, the fatigue etched into your features. “You’re paler than a sheet. I need you looking more… alive for the upcoming conferences.”

The words hung in the air between you, as if he were measuring them, savoring each syllable. It was a kind gesture, yet the way he said it made you feel more vulnerable than ever.

‘Alive.’

The word echoed in your mind, but you couldn’t help but think there was something deeper behind his advice. Something personal, something beyond work. The closeness of his voice, the slight brush of his body against yours in that confined space, made the air feel heavy, almost suffocating.

His words began to make sense, you even thought you were hallucinating when his voice was tender, sometimes he hid smiles while correcting your files or reports. It's as if from the beginning he had enjoyed see you—suffer, or see you near.

Not for nothing was your cubicle strictly placed in front of his office, with a view where only he could see every corner of you, what you were doing there, if you were really working or falling asleep or—.

The elevator stopped at the meeting floor, and both of you stepped out, but the tension remained.

The conference was like any other, boring, with old men coughing and harassing the secretary with their tired and blind eyes, your handsome and well-behaved exb—Eric, your boss Eric.

The rest of the day followed a similar pattern: Eric included you more in decisions at the end of the meeting, asked questions he usually reserved for senior executives.

Sometimes, it felt like he didn’t see you as the same person you’d been before—someone forgotten by him—but as something more. And, for a fleeting moment, you wondered if he, too, felt the same attraction, the same desire as you.

But you knew he’d never admit it. Neither would you, damn stubborn.

The afternoon stretched on, and you found yourself back at your cubicle, focused on a report Eric had assigned. So engrossed in the details, you didn’t hear the footsteps approaching.

When you finally looked up, there he was, standing before your desk, observing you intently, as if evaluating something far beyond your work performance.

Without a word, Eric pulled a chair from a nearby cubicle and sat right behind you. His gaze lingered on the screen, and your body tensed as his hand rested near yours on the desk.

“This should have the full name here, and here…” His voice was calm, but there was something in the air that made you feel as if everything was unraveling, as if the world you knew was shifting around you.

The tension grew, and before you realized it, Eric’s hand grazed your arm—a fleeting touch, but it sent an electric current through your skin. His hand continued, sliding gently until it rested over yours, which lay still on the computer mouse.

The proximity was unbearable; the warmth radiating from his body melded with yours, and the air between you became stifling, as though everything was on the brink of exploding.

You could hear your own heartbeat, a roaring in your ears, as you felt the pulse in his fingers, his slightly quickened breath. The intensity of his presence beside you was overwhelming, the weight of his fingers on yours paralyzing.

The room seemed to shrink, as if nothing else existed beyond that moment. The pressure in your chest mounted, and while you knew you should pull away, that you couldn’t let this continue, your fingers stayed frozen, caught in the spell of his touch.

But then, Eric lifted his head, as if realizing how close you were, as if the reality of the moment hit him. His breath hitched for a second, and his expression turned stern, though his eyes softened briefly, just for an instant.

Clearly uncomfortable, he cleared his throat and stood up quickly. He gave you one last look, as if trying to read your thoughts, then turned and walked back to his office, leaving you alone with the sensation that the world had shifted irrevocably.

The silence he left behind was deafening. The warmth of his presence lingered in the air, on your skin, as you tried to process what had just happened. You knew something had changed—something vital.

But you weren’t sure you wanted to face it. Perhaps you both wanted the same thing, but neither of you was ready to take the first step.

And. There is always an and and a but.

From that moment on, things began to change between you two. Literally.

Slowly, but undeniably. The professional distance Eric had always maintained started to crumble, and though his actions were subtle, they were impossible to ignore.

In meetings, his eyes lingered on you a little longer than necessary, on your body too. When you shared the elevator, the tense, cold silence was replaced by Eric leaning against the metal walls, arms crossed over his chest, throwing casual remarks your way.

“Did you get any sleep last night?” he told you one afternoon, The ask was suddenly, his eyes fixed on you with an intensity that left you feeling exposed.

It was an innocent gesture, but there was something in his tone, in the way his gaze held yours, that made you question if his concern was purely work-related.

Sometimes, as you talked, Eric would adjust his watch, his hand brushing against yours for the briefest moment. It could have been accidental, but you knew it wasn’t.

Even his presence in the office shifted. He spent more time near your cubicle, stealing glances at your work or stopping by to ask questions he surely already knew the answers to.

The air between you grew heavy with something unnameable, something that both suffocated and drew you in.

The days continued like this, with Eric looking for excuses to get closer. There were times when you'd find him too close, leaning over your desk to review a report, his arm brushing against yours, his fingers, your shoulders against his chest, his words against your ear.

And particularly everything was when both were alone or there weren't that many people around. It was definitely not by accident or coincidence.

“Are you sure it was like that?” he asked you in a serious but somewhat playful tone. The proximity was suffocating, and even though you tried to focus on his words, all you could feel was the heat of his body against yours.

One night, when the rest of the office had turned off its lights and silence ruled the building, Eric left a towering stack of papers on your desk, reminding you of your earliest days at the company.

You had learned not to complain, but the exhaustion was plain on your face. You were poring over the last page when you heard footsteps approaching. You looked up to find him standing in front of you, his impeccable black suit sharp against the dim light, his expression unreadable.

“Come to my office,” he said, his voice low and firm.

You glanced at the clock. It was past midnight. What could he want at this hour? Shouldn't he have left hours ago?

You hesitated for a moment but stood and followed him.

The air was thick, suffocating in its weight, and you couldn’t remember the last time breathing felt natural. Your forehead was slick with cold sweat, each drop a reminder of the tension coiling tighter around your chest.

You forced yourself to take a deep breath, willing your heart to stop its relentless pounding as you walked the long stretch to Eric's office. The sound of his measured footsteps behind you did nothing to calm the storm within. His presence loomed—powerful, inescapable.

Am I about to lose this job? Did I mess up? Have they found someone better? The questions spiraled as you neared the door, each one heavier than the last.

When you finally stepped inside, the lighting felt… different. Softer. Warmer, even. It was a strange contrast to the cold, rigid atmosphere you'd grown used to. The sound of the lock clicking into place behind you sent a shiver racing down your spine.

Eric stood there, imposing as ever, his frame commanding the room with an effortless authority. He leaned casually against the edge of his desk, arms crossed, his sharp gaze pinning you in place. That look—it always had a way of unraveling you.

“Sit down,” he said, his voice calm but carrying a weight that left no room for argument.

You sank into the chair in front of his desk, the plush cushions doing little to ease your nerves. Your eyes darted to the massive windows behind him, the city lights twinkling like distant stars. It was a beautiful view, one you might have appreciated if your chest wasn’t tight with anxiety.

“Do you know why you’re here?” His voice broke the silence, smooth yet laced with an edge you couldn’t quite place.

Your throat felt dry, and all you could do was shake your head. Speaking felt like too monumental a task when his piercing gaze was locked on you, searching, dissecting. The weight of his scrutiny made your pulse race, and you fought to keep your composure.

Eric leaned back slightly, his arms falling to his sides as his fingers tapped a slow, deliberate rhythm against the desk. He studied you in silence for a moment, the tension between you both growing unbearable.

“There was an error in your report this afternoon,” he said, finally breaking the silence. His tone was even, almost detached, as he lifted a page from the desk.

Your stomach sank. Of course, it was about the report. You braced yourself for the sharp critique that would undoubtedly follow, but instead, he surprised you.

Setting the page aside, his expression softened, and his voice dipped lower. “But that’s not the real reason I called you in.”

Your breath hitched. The silence that followed was deafening. His fingers tapped the desk once more before he leaned forward, his hands resting on the polished wood.

“You’ve come a long way since your first day here,” he said, his voice quieter now but no less intense. “When I hired you, I wasn’t sure you had what it takes.” He paused, his eyes locking onto yours, his gaze unrelenting. “But you’ve proven me wrong. Over and over again.”

His words hung in the air, and for a moment, the tension shifted into something else. Something warmer, deeper. It made your chest ache in a way you didn’t fully understand.

“I want you to know,” he continued, his voice softening further, “that your hard work hasn’t gone unnoticed. Your dedication… your persistence… it’s invaluable to this team.”

He leaned back in his chair, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips—a rare, almost disarming sight. “Which is why I’ve decided to offer you a promotion.”

Your heart stopped for a beat, then stuttered back to life. The words seemed surreal, too good to be true.

“Starting next week,” he said, his tone shifting into something more businesslike, “you’ll be taking on more responsibilities. High-level projects. You’ll be working directly with me.” His eyes lingered on yours for a beat too long. “I trust that’s not going to be a problem.”

You managed a shaky nod, the corners of your lips twitching into something resembling a smile. But beneath the surface, your thoughts churned. This wasn’t just a promotion. It was an invitation—a shift in whatever fragile balance existed between you both.

And deep down, you knew this was only the beginning.

Your heart stuttered at Eric’s words, a mix of emotions surging through you—confusion, apprehension, and something you didn’t dare name.

His touch on your shoulder felt heavier than it should, sending an unwelcome warmth coursing through you. Was it the power he held, or was it the man himself? You weren’t sure anymore.

Eric’s eyes flicker, catching the brief tension in your face.

He notices everything, doesn’t he?

The way your fingers dig into the armrest, the way your throat tightens as you swallow your nerves. His sharp gaze softens, just for a moment, as if he’s weighing how much more he can push you.

He rises from his chair, the sound of his movements crisp and deliberate. Moving around the desk, he stops just in front of you, so close that his presence fills every inch of your personal space. His hand settles firmly on your shoulder—not harsh, but undeniably possessive. His voice is low, steady, and resolute.

"This promotion comes with certain expectations. I expect nothing less than perfection from you, [...]. You’ll have to work harder than before, push yourself further. I need to know you can handle it.”

What was Eric playing at?

Your pulse quickened, and your chest tightened with something between resentment and longing. This wasn’t just about work—it never was with him. Not really.

His touch lingers as his words seep into your mind. The weight of his hand burns against your skin, as though it’s not just a gesture but a promise—and a warning.

"I know you can do it. You've already proven your resilience, your potential. But I need to know you’re committed." His voice dips, pulling you in despite the rising panic in your chest. "Are you ready to show me that you’re not just... a pretty face?"

The way he says it—so casually, yet so laced with meaning—sends a jolt through your system.

A heat climbs up your neck, betraying you. Was that a compliment? A taunt? Or something entirely more dangerous? You barely manage to nod, your throat dry, your pulse thundering in your ears.

Eric leans in slightly, his intense gaze locking onto yours. "I want to hear you say it."

"I-I’m ready," you stammer, forcing the words past the tightness in your throat. "Thank you, sir. I’ll do my best."

"Your best won’t be enough." His words hit like a whip, but before the sting can settle, a faint smirk curves his lips. "But I’m confident you’ll exceed even that."

The tension between you thickened like smoke, choking and impossible to ignore. Every second stretched painfully, and you realized he wasn’t moving. Eric stayed close, his presence overwhelming, his eyes dark and unreadable as they traced your face.

The room feels smaller now, suffocating under the weight of his presence. You muster a question, hoping to break the tension that coils between you like a taut wire. "Will I still be in the same cubicle, or…?"

Eric arches a brow, a flicker of amusement crossing his face. "Cubicle? Seriously?" He lets out a low laugh, more to himself than to you, and takes a step back.

For the first time since this conversation started, you can breathe, though the air is still thick with unspoken tension.

He turns toward the large window, his silhouette framed by the city lights. His hands slip into his pockets as he stares out at the sprawling skyline.

"You’re not just some junior employee anymore, [...]. You’re my right-hand man. My top assistant. You don’t belong in a cubicle."

His voice carries a strange undertone—pride, perhaps? Or something darker. "You’ll be moving into my old office. I’ve already had it cleared out. It’s ready for you."

That pulled you out of your haze. “Your old office?” You couldn’t mask the surprise in your voice. “I… I don’t know what to say.” The words tumble out, but they feel hollow, inadequate for the weight of the moment.

Eric turned to face you again, his hands still tucked in his pockets. The smirk returned, but this time it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Say that you’ll handle it. That you won’t disappoint me. It’s as simple as that.”

Your chest tightened, and you bit the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from saying something stupid. The promotion didn’t feel like a reward. It felt like a test. Or worse, a leash. And yet, a part of you—a traitorous part—didn’t hate that idea.

His steps are slow, deliberate, as he moves closer again. The air between you crackles with an energy you don’t dare name. When he stops just inches away, his proximity steals the breath from your lungs.

And then it happens.

His hand lifts, fingers brushing your cheek in a touch so light it feels electric. The warmth of his skin sends a shiver down your spine. His eyes bore into yours, an unspoken challenge simmering within their depths.

"Prove to me," he whispers, his voice like velvet over steel, "that I didn’t make a mistake. Prove that you’re the one—to me and to this company." His hand slides downward, skimming your jaw before retreating entirely.

The absence of his touch feels like a loss, though you’d never dare admit it.

You can't stop thinking about Eric's touch, his words, and the way he looked at you—as if you were the only person in the world in that fleeting moment.

The memory lingers, his presence haunting every corner of your mind. You try to convince yourself it’s nothing more than a figment of your imagination. Maybe you're overthinking it. Maybe you're reading too much into it.

But then again… could you be wrong?

"I'm worth it, Eric."

The words slip out before you can stop them, unbidden and raw. You had to say something in response to keep his attention.

Your heart leaps into your throat, realizing the weight they carry. You meant to limit it to your work—your efforts, your contributions to the company. But the truth is undeniable. You are worth it. In every way.

The words hang in the air between you, heavy and full of implication. You feel the heat rising to your cheeks, your confidence faltering. "I-I mean… my work is worth it. I’ve worked hard for this position, and I believe I’ve shown you that."

You lean forward instinctively, as if to close the growing distance, your eyes locking onto his. “I think you’ve noticed that I haven’t broken any promises I made when you hired me. I’ve stayed true to everything you asked of me, down to the smallest detail.”

Your voice trembles but doesn’t break. The intensity in your gaze speaks volumes, a quiet defiance shining through your vulnerability.

Eric watches you carefully, his eyes darkening with something dangerous and unreadable. His jaw tightens for a fraction of a second before relaxing again. “Oh, believe me,” he murmurs, his voice low, each word carrying weight, “I’ve noticed. I’ve noticed everything about you.”

His gaze flickers downward, lingering at your lips for a split second too long before returning to your eyes. “Your dedication. Your persistence. Your...” His voice dips, as if testing the waters of forbidden territory. “stubbornness.”

A brief pause stretches between you, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly. “But loyalty can be dangerous, [...]. It can lead people to do things they shouldn’t—things they wouldn’t, under different circumstances.”

His steps are slow but deliberate as he approaches, the distance between your bodies shrinking. The air shifts, crackling with unspoken tension.

“I need to know,” Eric continues, his voice softer now, his words deliberate, “that this.. loyalty isn’t divided. That it’s mine. Mine alone.”

What? Divided? It's just for work, it's just to maintain a good status and have a good place to live. Right?

His hand lifts, his fingers brushing against your jawline. The light touch sends a tremor through your body, the sensation impossibly warm against your skin. His thumb grazes the edge of your cheek, his touch firm yet tender, like a warning wrapped in a promise.

Your breath catches. His proximity is suffocating, overwhelming. Your heart pounds against your ribcage, a desperate rhythm that betrays the steady exterior you’re trying so hard to maintain.

You can’t help but lean into him, drawn by some magnetic force that neither of you seem willing to acknowledge. His scent—sharp, clean, and distinctly him—clouds your thoughts. You can feel his breath ghosting over your skin, teasing, taunting.

His voice is a whisper now, the words barely brushing past your ear. “Tell me, [...], please.. can you give me that? Can you promise me that your loyalty—your focus—is entirely mine?”

His other hand rests against the chair beside you, caging you in, his body mere inches from yours. The tension is unbearable, the heat between you palpable. His lips hover, tantalizingly close to your own, and you know neither of you can resist this pull much longer.

The line between professionalism and desire is blurred beyond recognition.

You’re not sure if you’re breathing or if the pounding in your chest is too loud to tell. Your body aches to close the gap, to feel the press of his skin against yours. But a small voice in the back of your mind reminds you that once the line is crossed, there will be no turning back.

His fingers tilt your chin upward slightly, forcing you to meet his gaze. “Well?” he murmurs, his voice dangerously low, “I need to hear you say it, [...]. Tell me you’re mine.”

Your lips part, words caught somewhere between your throat and your courage. He’s waiting, his lips a breath away from yours, the heat between your bodies enough to ignite flames.

But can you give him what he’s asking? Or are you both about to cross a line that could burn everything to the ground?

The air between you sizzles with unspoken passion, the tension almost unbearable. Eric’s words wrap around your senses like chains, dragging you into his orbit, his confession like gasoline poured onto a fire already blazing within you.

His lips hover over yours, a teasing torment that has your breath hitching. His fingers, firm yet reverent, tilt your chin higher as if daring you to defy him, daring you to resist the pull between you two. But you can’t. You’ve already surrendered in every way that matters.

"Say something," he murmurs, his voice rough, a plea hidden beneath the command. His dark eyes bore into yours, flickering with desperation, desire, and something deeper—something raw.

"Tell me you feel it too, that I’m not insane for wanting you like this."

Your throat dries, and your words stick to your tongue. You should push him away, assert the boundary that’s already been obliterated by the sheer weight of your shared history. But instead, your lips part, and a shaky whisper escapes.

"Eric... I-"

You don’t get the chance to finish.

His lips crush against yours in a searing kiss, all-consuming and desperate. The world melts away as his mouth claims yours, his kiss a perfect storm of hunger and longing.

He tastes like heat and danger, a flavor you’d forgotten and yet had craved every single day since the two of you fell apart.

Your hands, trembling with hesitation, find their way to his chest, your fingers fisting the fabric of his tailored suit as if anchoring yourself to reality. But reality blurs as his tongue slips past your lips, tangling with yours in a dance that’s both demanding and impossibly tender.

"Tell me to stop," he growls against your lips, his breath ragged as he pulls back just enough for his forehead to rest against yours.

His thumb strokes over the hollow of your cheek, a gentle contrast to the vice grip his other hand has on your hip. "Tell me I’m out of line, and I’ll step away. But if you want this—if you want me—then don’t hold back."

Your chest heaves as you stare at him, his expression open and vulnerable in a way you’ve never seen before. The fire in his eyes dares you to give in, to leap into the flames with him and risk everything for just one taste of heaven.

And oh, God, how you want to.

Instead of answering with words, you tug him down into another kiss, your mouth moving against his with a fervor that makes his grip on you tighten. His hands roam now, one sliding up to cup the back of your head, angling your face to deepen the kiss, while the other traces the curve of your waist.

He ended up getting you up from that leather chair, his hands traveling over your body as if he were drawing a map.

He walks you backward until the edge of his desk presses into the small of your back, and he lifts you effortlessly onto the smooth wood. The sound of papers scattering barely registers as he steps between your legs, his body fitting against yours as if molded for this very moment.

"Do you have any idea," he whispers against your lips, his voice trembling with restraint, "how many nights I’ve dreamt of this? Of you?"

You shudder, your hands curling around the back of his neck to pull him closer. His teeth graze the sensitive skin of your jawline, trailing kisses down your throat, igniting sparks of pleasure wherever his lips touch.

"Eric," you gasp, his name falling from your lips like a prayer. Your resolve crumbles entirely as his hands grip your thighs, spreading them wider, drawing you impossibly closer to the hard, unyielding heat of his body.

You feel every inch of him, every ounce of his needy cock pressing against yours.

"Say it," he demands, his voice rough and low, his lips finding the pulse point on your neck. His teeth scrape against it, leaving a mark that will scream possession. "Say you’re mine."

Your head tilts back, baring your throat to him as if offering yourself up completely. "I’m yours," you whisper, your voice trembling but certain. "I’ve always been yours."

The words break something inside him. His restraint snaps like a thread pulled too tight, and his kisses grow hungrier, more desperate, as if he’s afraid you’ll vanish if he doesn’t consume you entirely.

But the heat between you carries a dangerous undercurrent, a silent warning of just how far you’re both willing to go to reclaim what you lost. And deep down, you know—if you don’t stop now, there will be no turning back.

Not for him. Not for you. And not for the fragile line you’ve already crossed.

But just then...When your dream was finally about to come true.

“[...].” A voice in the back of your head echoed, but it was faint, distant. “[...]. Are you even listening to me?”

What the fuck? You blinked rapidly, the world around you beginning to blur. For a moment, it felt like the ground beneath you was shifting, like you were floating in an endless sea of confusion.

But—suddenly, everything snapped back into place.

The office. The air was cold. Eric was sitting at his desk, his elbows resting on it, staring at you with an unreadable expression.

"Wha… w-what?" you asked incredulously, your voice cracking with disbelief. You could feel the dryness in your mouth, your fingers gripping your thighs, your other hand squeezing your neck lightly.

Had it all just been a dream? No… it couldn’t have been. He was kissing your neck, making you his, returning to where you should never have left...

Eric’s eyes were locked on you, as steady as ever, his calm gaze piercing through you like it always did.

“As I was saying... Do you know why you’re here?” he asked, his voice still smooth, but there was something underneath it now—an edge that made your heart skip a beat.

You shook your head, blinking again, trying to clear the fog from your mind. The room seemed so real now. The scent of his cologne, the hum of the air conditioner, the way his eyes bore into you like they always did.

Was it real?

The intensity of his gaze pulled at you, and for a brief moment, it felt like everything that had happened before—the dream, the fantasies, the moments between you two—was fading, slipping away as if they had never existed. In your mind.

“What’s.. going on?” you whispered, your voice barely above a breath, barely able to hold its ground.

Eric didn’t immediately answer. He just kept watching you, leaning back in his chair with that same cool demeanor, as though the entire world had fallen away and there was only the two of you in this moment.

“Do you know why I left you that stack of work today?” he asked, his tone casual, but the question stung like a cold knife.

You stared at him, confusion still clouding your thoughts, but somehow, you felt yourself starting to understand. Slowly, your breathing evened out, the sharp panic fading into a kind of numbness.

“I… I don’t know,” you replied, your voice hoarse, uncertain. The weight of his words was sinking in, but everything felt distant, like it was happening to someone else.

Eric stood, moving toward you with his usual predatory grace. As he walked closer, the reality of the situation began to settle into your bones.

The heat radiating from his body, the way he filled the space with his presence—it was all real, and yet it felt like a dream, a surreal moment where everything shifted and fell back into place.

“I wanted to see how far you could go,” he continued, his voice quieter now, almost like he was letting something deeper slip through. “I wanted to see if you still had that… resilience I’ve always admired.”

His words made your chest tighten, and for a moment, you found it hard to breathe. The room felt small now, the distance between you two shrinking, but there was a weight behind his words that forced you to listen closely.

Eric’s next words cut through the tension like a blade. “But I can’t help but wonder… why are you still here? Why did you take this job knowing I was the one in charge?”

The question hit you like a punch, knocking the wind out of you.

You knew there were reasons, but in this moment, you were lost. What could you say to that? That while he was probably telling you what a great worker you were, you were about to imagine him fucking you against his desk and every corner of his office? No. That would be stupid.

You could feel your mind racing, a whirlwind of emotions and thoughts you couldn’t grasp.

Eric closed the distance between you, stepping closer still, until there was barely an inch between you. His gaze was unwavering, and this time, the heat between you two was undeniable.

“Is it because of me?” he asked, the words soft but carrying a weight that made your heart race.

You could barely think.

The world had narrowed to just him, just this moment. His face was so close you could feel the warmth of his breath, his eyes so intense they seemed to burn into your soul. Everything else faded away, and in that moment, you were completely caught in his gravity.

But then, as quickly as the moment had come, it started to slip away.

Eric raised a hand, and for a heartbeat, it felt like the entire world had stopped. You thought—no, hoped—he would touch you. That he would pull you close and everything would unravel.

But just as suddenly, his hand fell to his side. He stepped back, breaking the spell.

“Go home,” he said, his voice suddenly colder, more distant. His face lowered, looking at your barely shaking hands. “You need to rest well.”

And just like that, the warmth between you vanished. Eric turned his back to you, retreating to his desk like nothing had happened. His back was to you, and the room felt hollow, the air heavy with unspoken things.

But something had changed. Something that neither of you could deny.

“You can go now. You can take the day off tomorrow, you look very... pale.” he said.

You stood there for a long moment, unsure of how to react. How to feel. The world had felt so sharp, so raw for just a moment—and now it was slipping away.

Slowly, reluctantly, you walked out of his office, your heart pounding in your chest.

You knew, without a doubt, that nothing would ever be the same. The dream, the fantasy, had bled into reality.

But was it really over?

⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ݁⠀⠀،،⠀⠀메모 ! ㅤ⸻ㅤ I still have one more fic to go and then we'll go for something a little softer.︐⠀📍

⠀𝒊. ⠀─⠀ All credits to @angelsfat3 / @foschiamara⠀𝄒

. . . ₍⠀아이디어 !ㅤ⸻ㅤI'm very short of ideas lately, so feel free to leave me any requests! <⁠(⁠￣⁠︶⁠￣⁠)⁠>⠀₎⠀ ִֶָ

˖⠀⠀ ݁⠀©⠀،،⠀If you liked it you can like, follow me or reblog!!

[banj0possum]

All You Need

Yandere! Bodyguard x Gn Reader

CW: obsessive behavior, minor stalking

i changed his name, his old name was doo doo, it was but a trick of the light

IM CHANGING HIS NAME AGAI-

♠️ Never before would you have ever considered hiring a bodyguard, you could defend yourself on your own just fine, but with all your rival manufacturers trying to get you out of the competition with assassinations and attempted kidnappings, you had no choice.

♠️ Feelings were a very rare thing for Baron, and he was fine with it, after all, emotions weren't a very helpful thing to have when your job is to kill people. There was no room for soft, sappy things like that when you lived in his side of the city.

♠️ But his cold and empty demeanor was somehow broken through the moment he saw you.

♠️ The smile you had on your face pierced his heart like cupid's arrow, it was like love at first sight for him.

♠️ He was just getting some rest after a particularly stressful job at a nearby bar when he heard the sweetest laughter from across the room.

♠️ There you were, the most beautiful person he's ever laid eyes upon. You were sitting with some other people, talking and drinking together like all the other patrons, but you stood out to him like a precious gem amongst stone.

♠️ It seemed as if the world slowed down when your eyes briefly met his.

♠️ He would now frequent that bar, learning what you like to order, when you get there and who you'd be with.

♠️ He's never talked to you, or even interacted with you in any way, but the feelings he had for you couldn't be denied. You're just too adorable!!

♠️ Through his connections, he found out you were a big name in weapons design. Unique and beautifully deadly instruments of death were created by your hands. Is it weird he finds that hot?

♠️ He'd start off making anonymous orders for weapons to you, it was normal to get one that was unnamed, so you thought nothing of it.

♠️ When he got his order, an intricately designed dagger, he couldn't bring himself to use it on anyone. This is a gift from his kind and talented darling! He couldn't just stab it into someone's chest like any other knife!

♠️ Yes, he has a little shrine of you.

♠️ When he heard you were hiring for a bodyguard, he was ecstatic! Finally, he can be with you for real! He had to stop himself from giggling like a little girl in front of his colleagues.

♠️ He applied for the job and immediately was given instructions to your address, he read it over and over again until it was engraved into his mind.

♠️ "Tomorrow, 5pm. 93 Lebberside Ave. Door with the hummingbird symbol on it in the alley. Do not be late."

♠️ When he arrived at the location, his heart was pounding under his cold expression. He knocked on the door and heard a muffled crash from inside with a small "Shit!" before the sound of multiple clicks of locks followed.

♠️ You pulled the door open and looked up at the man with dark eyes.

♠️ "Are you the applicant?"

♠️ "Y-yes.." God he stuttered, he hoped you couldn't see his flushed face.

♠️ "Good, come in." You pulled him in and swiftly locked the door again.

♠️ He looks around and it looked like a normal home, albeit a little cluttered. Boxes of files and paper were almost everywhere with takeout boxes and noodle cups on every surface of the house. Looks like you've been piled with work for a long time, poor thing, you really need him to take care of you don't you?

♠️ He sits down on the couch across from the little bean bag you were sitting on while reading a file you grabbed from the coffee table, god you're adorable..

♠️ "So you're..?"

♠️ "Baron..Baron Valencia.."

♠️ "Baron..."

♠️ Oh god say his name again please plea-

♠️ "Hm..your file's pretty good..and you don't have any recent dealings with my competitors? Interesting, looks like you have a good eye for quality weaponry huh?" You smile at his file before looking at him with fox eyes. The things he'd let you do to him...

♠️ "I just took a liking to your model's, they're more convenient and useful than others.." He says with a straight face.

♠️ You chuckle and ask him a few more questions before eventually moving on to small talk, he relished in the time you two spent together laughing at past experiences and jokes, it was like he's known you forever, it took every muscle in his body just to stop himself from smiling too much.

♠️ Eventually, you got up and patted his lap, putting down the file. "Well, Mr. Valencia, you're hired!" You say with a smile, the same smile that melted his heart the first time he saw you.

♠️ "Really?! I-I mean- thank you..Boss.."

♠️ He regains his calm composure after letting his voice go a little too high for his liking, any embarrassment he would've had in that situation was replaced with a warm, tingly feeling as you placed a hand on his shoulder, giggling.

♠️ After that, he'd watch you like a hawk, always being by your side ready to protect you, even if you’re just at home. You never know when someone will try to hurt you!

♠️ He'd be looming over you, giving any poor soul trying to talk to you a death stare until you introduced them as friends of yours, he's a giant guard dog basically.

♠️ His stoic expression would persist even when you make small talk with him all the time so casually. It was like he wasn't even your bodyguard sometimes, just a friend you were hanging out with.

♠️ He wasn't all intimidating and cold, he was also very concerned for your health...all the time, and can you blame him? You've been living off of takeout and instant noodles for months!

♠️ "Boss, I think you should eat a proper dinner and not fastfood again, I'll cook for you."

♠️ "Your work can wait, Boss. I'm sure your client can wait another day, please, you look tired."

♠️ It's all part of being your bodyguard! He has to keep you safe and healthy! He'd be happy to move in so he can protect you 24/7 if you'd let him.

♠️ He'd offer to help you clean your living space a little too, since you're so busy and all with work, he might as well make life easier for you. You said yes to get him to stop pestering you about it and when you came back to the living room, all the clutter and empty food containers were gone..as well as a few of your clothes..I guess he put them away as well, how nice of him.

♠️ If you confront him about this, he'd deny it all flushed in between stutters.

♠️ "Well Baron, it sounds to me like you want to be my househusband more than a bodyguard with all your offers for looking after me and such."

♠️ "Wh- Me? N-no! I'd never! I-I mean unless you'd want that..Not that I'm saying I want to! But well uhm- I-if you uh..uhm..I'll leave you alone to work..."

♠️ On days off a.k.a. days you forced him to take a break from taking care of you to get a bit of breathing space for yourself, he'd stalk your social medias or flat out stalk you. A true bodyguard never stops protecting their boss! He just wants to watch over you!

♠️ On the rare occasions that you're too deep in work and not getting a blink of sleep, he'd use his strong arms to pull you into bed and force you to rest. It wasn't long before he heard you softly snoring in his arms, you were exhausted from long days of working and delivering orders and evading taxes and such, no wonder you went out like a light.

♠️ He looked down at you as he sighed lovingly, placing a kiss on your head, whispering a soft "Goodnight, cariño.." Before drifting off to sleep himself.

♠️ "..Goodnight Baron.."

♠️ "B-Boss! Y-you heard that?!"

[perfectprofessorloverapricot]

•| A not so stolen youth |•

Stranger things / chapter 3

Summary: Everything in life seemed limited to walls of whites and rainbows. Caged within the confines of the lab. But an accident that involved a group of teenagers and the upside down world finally let him free. In a funny turn of events he found himself hiding in a step sibling's shed. A redhead that loves video games and a blond that spends his time making sure to keep his good looks.

Character: Male child OC

Warnings: Possible to descriptive scenes, child abuse, use of drugs and bad language.

A/N: I ask you to take into account that I lack experience writing in English and there'll be some grammatical mistakes because my native language is Spanish.

Prev part - Masterlist - Next part

It was early in the morning, every kid was either at school or at home because they’re sick. All except for one.

Thirteen walked with tranquility through the groups of trees scattered all over the town. He found that the only onces that walked there were a few really young kids, other than that, the coast is completely clear.

But what is not completely clear is his mind. The day before he saw something that brought back awful memories. He found out, his father is not the only man like that in the world and he isn’t the only one like him out there. He would like to say that he doesn’t understand Billy completely, but he does.

The teenage has moments of calmness when he usually keeps to himself or even glances at him as if inspecting his soul, and moments of complete chaos when he is hostile against anything and anyone near him.

Billy was angry at his father, that much was evident, but he couldn’t do a thing because he knew it was useless. That was a feeling he could relate a little bit to well.

It happened too often to him in the lab. Loosing his papa’s respect brought a lot of punishment with it and answering it only left him in pain. His only solution was to hold back and resist. But that led to future explosions where he sent his guards flying or breaking an entire room with a scream.

He was labeled as dangerous and forced to stay isolated.

He was thinking of ways to help make him feel better but nothing came to mind other than a present.

But what?

Or maybe, some company? That’s what he wanted when he was in the lab. Maybe that’s what Billy needs at home.

Before he could think about other options, his senses detected something. He heard a pair of soft footsteps quite some distance further in front of him but instead of dreading to find the person a familiar feeling made itself present in the back of his mind. He waited.

As silent as ever, he walked cautiously towards the sound.

Both kids that found themselves in front of one another gasped in surprise. They know each other.

The curly haired girl smiled at the boy receiving a smile in return.

“Eleven.” Whispered the boy, walking closer to her.

“Thirteen.” Once close enough they engulfed each other in a big hug, giggling, happy to realize they both basically survived.

The kids pulled away, still connected by their arms, smiling like no other day.

They had so much to talk about.

“-and then, she taught how to skateboard.” Commented the boy with glee.

They have been talking for about an hour about what’s happened the last year after escaping the lab and getting in contact with the upside down. So far, everything’s been peaceful.

He was happy to know that she was also taken care off by a good guy, even though she puts a kind of weird expression when she mentions him, she stills seems to trust him a lot too.

“But…” he made a pause and sunk in the log they were both seating at the reminder of what happened a few hours ago. “Her papa…” he turned his eyes from his joined hands to the attentive look of eleven. “He is like our papa.”

Eleven gasped softly at the revelation.

“She and Billy hide me.” His lips curved a little at the sides. He always gets a warm and fluffy feeling in his chest at the reminder of people that care about his safety. “She gave me clothes.” He gripped the fabric of the blue hoodie in his chest. The same that keeps his body heat from escaping. “And a name. Magnus.”

Eleven gave him a close-lipped smile. They don’t know each other as well as she would like too because they were separated in the lab. They met only after the rest of the kids disappeared and their father needed more power to connect with the unknown world. But couldn’t interact that much in a friendly way under the scrutinizing eyes of their handlers. He always wore a frown accompanied with tired eyes. So she is happy to see him finally smile, even in the slightest.

“And you?” He asked, giving her the opportunity to express something that might be bothering her.

“Hopper is good.” She nodded. “But he lies.” The kid raised his eyebrows in surprise. “He says, one day I’ll leave to see my friends but that never happens. He promised soon, but soon never comes.”

Thirteen lowered his head in sadness. He knows that feeling, or he knew, before living with his only friend.

“He says it’s dangerous, that it’s for my protection.” The kid wrapped an arm around her in a side hug to comfort her.

In moments like that he wished he was more like magneto and fight for their freedom.

But he couldn’t, he was just a kid after all. All he could do was make her aware that she’s not alone.

A certain blonde haired teenage boy was currently tightening a screw on the engine of his blue baby Camaro.

He was finishing changing the air filter. After what happened the day before with his father he has been looking for ways to release some pent-up pressure. He already said goodbye to his last hook up an hour ago, he doesn’t know where Max is because she was late and he left her to skate home alone and he already worked out in the living room but nothing seemed to make his anger decrease.

Billy huffed once he was finished, cleaning the sweat in his forehead with the back of his dirtied hand. It wasn’t enough but that’ll have to do.

“Jesus.” Exclaimed the blond once he turned around and found the boy behind him, startling him. Weirdly attentive to what he was doing. “What the hell are you doing there? Are you a creep?” He asked with annoyance. He had almost sent the tool in his hand flying.

The kid just kept looking at him and the car with his big blue eyes and shrugged. He didn’t know what ‘creep’ means.

Billy raised a brow at the look of wonder in the kids face. He has seen it a few times before, directed to him, like trying to figure him out, which makes him edgy, but this time it was directed more to his car. “Never seen a car before?” He asked mockingly.

Unknown to him, the first time the boy saw a car was when he escaped from the lab. Ever since that day, the younger one has been greatly interested in the weird machines that roll faster than any adult he has ever seen runs.

Billy furrowed his brows when the only answer he got was the kid leaning his head to the side, still looking at the car.

Was he really that stupid? No, he couldn’t be. They would have already found him if that was the case, but he would have to live under a rock to not know what a car is.

“What, cat got your tongue, brat?” Thirteen shook his head and stick his tongue out to demostrarte it was still there making Billy huffed and turned to his car.

What a weird kid.

He grabbed the car’s hood and slam it shut to make sure it was closed.

“Cool.” Alluded the boy walking closer to the drivers side.

“What?” Thirteen glanced at Billy for a moment before returning to the inside of the vehicle repeating his word.

“Cool.” He is not completely sure if his using correctly the word Max taught him. ‘A word to describe something that’s better than amazing.’ Is what she said, and that is exactly what he thinks about the car.

“Huh, at least you have taste.” Said Billy as he wiped his hands in a towel he had hanging from his short’s waistband. Until he got an idea. Something that would help him destress and he used to do it a lot in California. “Hey brat.”

Thirteen turned towards Billy, not knowing what ‘brat’ means but understanding he wanted his attention. He blinked a few times, watching the weird look in the teenager’s eyes. He had an idea.

Billy would never in his life know what led him to do what he did, but the next thing he knows, he is driving top speed in one of the many lonely roads in the outer sides of Hawkins with the kid in the copilot seat. He loves to use the backroads.

He thought the kid would be scared shitless, however, the kid was grasping the seatbelt like his life depends on it (because it does) with the biggest smile Billy has ever seen.

But he doesn’t care that the kid didn’t get scared he was too concentrated in the adrenaline coursing through his veins at the speed to actually pay attention. He didn’t even light the cigarette between his lips because it wasn’t needed.

Billy whooped in ecstasy and bobbed along the surprisingly not so loud music. It was more important the roar of the engine than the beat coming from the stereo.

“That’s what I’m talking about.” Cheered Billy with his always sharp smile.

But that wasn’t the best part, he was waiting for the right moment to put his car modifications to the test. In a way he couldn’t in the crowded city of California.

His smile widened when he saw what he was looking for. A wide straight doble lane road.

It’s show time.

He stepped on the break and pulled the hand brake simultaneously, then turned the wheel completely to one side in a second. The car instantly followed the action, turning with so much force skidding the tires in the street. Making a U turn by drifting.

Billy laughed loudly while the kid beside him screamed for his life. The wheels scraped the floor until the vehicle came to a stop in the other side of the road. Facing the opposite direction.

Not waiting for anything, he pushed the hand break back down and step on the gas. The wheels screeched against the ground, leaving marks, before moving at full speed back to the house.

At the speed he was driving it only took him 10 minutes to arrive.

He got out of the car after killing the engine and lit the cigarette between his lips, taking a drag as if it was pure oxygen he was inhaling. Finally he felt a little bit better.

So lost in his relief he didn’t pay attention to the passenger in his car. He only turned his head back when he heard a thud. He found the passenger seat empty and the door opened. He huffed thinking the kid just left without closing the door but he stop when he went around the car and found the kid basically face planted in the dirt while giggling.

Billy scoffed a laugh almost sending the cigarette in mouth flying. He was positive the kid was high with adrenaline. He saw the kid try to stand up in his jelly legs only to fall on his side.

“What the hell?” Billy didn’t need to turn around to know who that was. He merely rolled his eyes when the redhead rushed by him to get to the kid. “What did you do to him?” She asked when the kid tried to stand up again with her help but stumbled to the side like he was drunk. She got even more confused when she heard him giggle.

“I fixed your damn brat.” He grumbled taking a drag of his cigarette before throwing it to the ground and returning to the house. He wanted to take a shower.

Max looked between the retreating back of her step brother and the kid seating in the dirt with a big smile in his face.

Could it be possible that Billy changed his mind?

No, that is not something Billy could ever do.

But either way, she was relieved that he was at least tolerating the kid’s presence.

If Max thought they had made a progress with Billy after the ride he had with Magnus. She was wrong.

The very next day his anger returned when he saw her talking to Lucas. There was no problem with that, she didn’t plan to be part of their club of hypocrites anyway.

Well, that was her plan, until the very next day she wanted to go to the arcade to play dig dug and forget everything only to be tricked in to the breakroom by Lucas himself. They argued about the veracity of the fanciful story Lucas told her ensuring that it was the truth.

Leaving the arcade Billy saw him at the door. At first he acted eerily calm while accusing her of disobeying and lying. But a silent threat was made evident later in the afternoon when Billy broke her skateboard when reversing in his car.

It was his way of telling her he could ‘accidentally’ break something without a problem.

He became a ticking time bomb and she didn’t want to be there to see it explode because she would be the collateral damage, and possibly with her, Magnus too. Even though he has mostly ignored the kid in the last days, it was obvious the anger he was holding in.

Taking every posible outcome Max took a decision. She’ll go back to Cali to her father and she’ll take Magnus with her.

The kid already had a new name, and no one will be looking for a kid in another city, miles away from were he was.

That’s how she found herself in this position. Fidgeting with her fingers inside her hoodie pockets, feeling the money between her fingers and watching attentively at Magnus sitting in her bed and messing with her Walkman.

She got the money by telling her mother that she wanted to buy a new shirt but she wanted the money to buy it herself and avoid any kind of harsh comments from Neil if she went with them to the mall in the neighboring town. Her mother, illusioned with the possibility of her daughter buying something more feminine, gladly gave her double the money she needed to buy the shirt. She thanked the heavens her mother did because she forgot the amount of money it’ll cost to buy two bus tickets.

She forgot a slight detail. The distance between her and her father was much more now that she is in Hawkins than when she was in Cali, and the tickets would be more expensive.

She already prepared two bags with things for her and Magnus. In that precise moment she has the perfect opportunity to leave with him. Her parents aren’t home and they’ll come back until night and Billy was too busy working on his muscles for his next hook up of the night to notice.

Gaining some courage Max sat next to the kid in her bed. She took a breath and spoke. “Mag-“

She was interrupted by the sound of the doorbell, someone calling at the door.

The kid raised his head, looking between Max and the bedroom’s closed door. He was to concentrated on the Walkman that he didn’t pay attention to the footsteps at the front door. It’s not like Billy’s blasting music trough the house helped at all.

He was already used to the volume of the music, but hearing it with the door open still hurt his head. At least the wood helps to drown out the sound. But he was still relieved that it’s not as loud as the alarms in the lab. That was a real headache.

He jumped from the bed when doorbell sounded again. He needed to hide. He turned to the window but stopped, if the person in the door somehow comes to the backside of the house he’ll be screwed. He turned to the bed. He doesn’t fit under it. As his last and only option, the kid threw himself inside the closet and closed the door, always leaving a crack to let the light come inside.

Max pressed her lips together trying to suppress a laugh. For a moment he looked like a headless chicken.

Her poorly covered smile disappeared when she heard her stepbrother yell at the next ring. “Max, are you getting that or what?”

Exasperated with him she yelled her answered “Okay.” She opened stood up stomping her way out of the room, closing the door behind her

“I swear to God Max.” Fumed the blond getting an eye roll and a glare from his sister when she walked by him. He just proceeded to lift the weights again.

From the closet, Magnus could slightly hear the door opening and closing over the music, along with Max’s voice from the other side of the door, indicating that now she was outside with whoever was at the door. He couldn’t tell what they were talking about because the music muffled their voices.

He waited for a moment, relieved that Max at least sounded like she knew the person outside. He was also aware that it wasn’t Neil, he could have heard his truck parking or his gruff voice booming in the house.

He waited a little while until she finally came back, closing the door behind her. She turned to Magnus watching the window in wariness. She knew why. Lucas was outside of the window. “Magnus.” She called for his attention.

He turned to her, blinking a few times.

“I… ammm.” She fidget in her place looking for the words to say. She didn’t know why she was so nervous, she just made up her mind and decided she’ll find out what’s really happening with Lucas and his group because deep down she still wishes to have friends. “I’ll live with the stalker for a few hours. He says he has proof or something.”

“Where?” Came the silent question from the kid. Max almost didn’t hear it with Billy’s blasting music coming through the door.

“To the old junkyard.” Magnus lifted a brown and tilted his head slightly to the side. There was nothing in there other than trash and forgotten stuff. Nevertheless, he nodded, understanding that she is going there like really few other teenagers do. “Okay, then. I’ll be back.” She said, making the reference of the terminator movie even though Magnus didn’t catch it.

She turned to one of the two opened windows. The one closest to the bed. She stepped on the woodshed outside before stopping and turning to Magnus who was seating in her closet.

“Don’t talk with Billy if he doesn’t talk to you, by the way. He’s not in the mood and can get cranky.” Magnus smiled at the thought but nodded again.

Don’t talk to Billy. Copy.

Max said a soft goodbye before exiting when she heard the boy outside telling her to speed up. He even heard her commenting that whatever they were doing better be worth it.

Minutes later after she left, Magnus stayed in her closet. He was to engrossed in the Walkman she borrowed him.

The interest came when he returned from the store he likes to visit (steal from) with a cassette tape he found behind the garbage dump.

He put on the headphones and changed the tapes the way Max instructed him to. He pressed play instantly jumping in his place and accidentally trowing the headphones. The volume was too high. Even with the headphones in the floor he could hear it clearly.

He decreased the volume to the minimum before putting the headphones back on. The rhythm of the music was somewhat similar to the songs Billy hears when exercising but not as scandalous. He turned the Walkman over to see the tape through the see through cover. The letters in the side said ‘Call Me by blondie’ and something else he couldn’t read due to the blurred sharpie. He likes it though.

He bobbed his head to the rhythm of the music, not caring that he could hear Billy’s music through the headphones. He liked it. He found his taste in music.

Still moving his head to the beat, he stood up and walked to the window farthest from the bed. He sat on the window sill dangling his feet for a couple of second before jumping out. He looked at the full woodshed beside him before returning to the shed. Walkman in hand.

He’ll wait for Max in there.

It’s been a few hours and Max still hasn’t retuned. Magnus got bored since he doesn’t know where Max’s tapes are and he can’t read so well, so he decided to steal an apple from the Hargroves’ fridge.

Meanwhile, the blond teenager was done exercising, taking a shower and currently sharpening his look before his date (hook up). He sprayed hair product in the hair locks that fell on his forehead. Turning over the bottle of colon, he spread a few drops of the liquid in his wrist, even going as far as to spread a little bit in the southern area.

He turned and posed in front of the mirror, smiling with satisfaction at the result. Taking a drag from his previously lit cigarette he leaned forward and blew the smoke against his reflexión, winking. Yep, he was ready.

His smile was erased once he heard someone calling at the door. He noticed the rush in the knock even over his blasting music. “Billy?” He knew that voice. The reason for witch his father decided it was a good idea to move.

Kind of.

“Yeah, I’m a little bit busy in here, Susan.” He answered uninterestedly.

“Open the door. Right now.” He mentally cursed when he heard his father’s commanding voice in the other side. There was no way around this.

Genuinely curious he finally opened the door finding his father frowning face and the always present worried face of Susan shielding herself behind the man.

“What’s wrong?” He cut to the chase.

Neil wasn’t at all impressed by his son’s bluntness. “Why don’t you tell us?”

“Because I don’t know.” He answered with obviousness in his tone. They just appeared in his door insinuating something that he isn’t aware of and yet, he is not surprised. Everything that goes wrong for Neil is always somehow his fault. No matter what.

“We can’t find Maxine-” Said Susan.

“And her window’s open.” Interrupted the man like the boss that he believes himself. Billy faltered for a second, looking in another direction before regaining himself. Even he was surprised. She was in her room with the brat a few hours ago. “Where is she?” Commanded Neil.

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” Scoffed the Man like his son was the worst dumbass in the world, annoying the younger.

“Look, I’m sure she just, I don’t know, went to the arcade or something.” Explained Billy, still not finding the force in his voice, kicking himself for it, and panicking internally. To avoid looking at the rising anger in his father eyes he went to the closet to retrieve his previously selected leather jacket. “I’m sure she is fine.”

Nike wasn’t having any of it. “You were supposed to watch her.” He commented, like he was just making an obvious observation.

Billy could clearly hear the covered anger under those words. But he couldn’t stop himself from arguing. He was getting annoyed.

He sighed. “I know dad. I was. It’s just you guys were three hours late, and, well, I have a date.” He slipped on the jacket and turned towards the man ready to face it and just leave. “I’m sorry, okay?”

“So that’s why you’ve been staring at yourself in the mirror like some faggot instead of watching your sister?”

That did it.

“I have been looking after her all week, dad. Okay?” He snapped. “She wants to run off, then that’s her problem, all right?” Neil licked the interior of his cheek, concealing his anger with an eerie façade. “She’s 13 years old. She shouldn’t need a full-time babysitter. And she is not my sister.” He turned to the radio. Stopping the music abruptly only to feel his heart drop to his stomach when Neil grabbed him by the colar of his shirt and slammed him against the shelves beside the closet.

“What did we talk about?” Asked Neil in a condescending tone. Practically whispering it in Billy’s face.

The teenager panted in anger and fear. He couldn’t answer fast enough when Neil slapped him in his left cheek, making him groan.

Susan, who once again couldn’t leave the scenario only looked the other way, feeling guilty for putting him in that situation but not doing anything fearing she could be in his position.

Neil grabbed Billy’s chin to force him to look at him before pointing with the same hand. “What. Did. We… talked about?” He made emphasis in each word.

“Respect and responsibility.”

“That is right.” Answered the man, pleased to have him under control once again. “Now, apologies to Susan.”

There was silence for a few seconds. Neil waiting for Billy while the blonde swallowed his pride and fear. “I’m sorry, Susan.” He said, never tacking his eyes from his father’s.

“It’s okay, Neil, really-“ she was interrupted when the man once again rises his voice.

“No, it’s not okay. Nothing about his behavior is okay. But he’s gonna make up for it.” He grumbled the last part. He finally stepped back to turn to look at Susan. “He’s gonna call whatever whore he’s seeing tonight and cancel their date.” He said as if it was the most normal thing to say. “And then he’s gonna go find his sister. Like the good, kind, respecting brother that he is.” He turned once again to his son, already finished with the humiliation. “Isn’t that right, Billy?”

Billy looked at his father with watery eyes hiding all that hate and anger he harbors towards the man. If only he could make him pay or just leave.

“It’s that right?” Yelled Neil when his first answer was only silence.

“Yes, sir.” He said softly.

Neil sighted in annoyance, leaning closer to his son. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t hear you.”

“Yes. Sir.” He repeated. This time with more courage.

“Find max.” Demanded Neil with finality turning around and leaving the room, intimidating Susan enough for her to step away from his way.

Billy finally let the tears spill once the door was slammed close and hit the wall beside him. He hated him with all his being. He wanted to fight back, punch him or something, but the last time he tried to do it didn’t end well for him.

Sucking his feelings up and drying his tears, he left his room to the back of the house. He thanked the heavens he parked the car in the back really close to were he needs to go. The shed.

Faster than he thought, Billy reached the wooden door and gentler than he wanted to, he opened the door (still slamming it open). “Hey, brat.” He grumbled once inside.

Magnus raised his head looking at him with wide eyes. He knew it was Billy the one walking (stomping) towards the shed. But it still surprised him when the teenage barged in the shed and called for his attention, loudly.

Billy opened his mouth about to yell but stopped. He didn’t want to scare the kid that looked like a frightened rabbit ready to bolt and end up running around like a headless chicken looking for Max for scaring him, or for his father to find him hiding a kid in the shed and get his butt kicked.

Instead he took a breath before talking. “Where’s Max?”

The answer he got was the kid blinking in bewilderment hugging a comic to his chest.

“Ugh, for fucks…” he mumbled under his breath. “Do you know where is Max?” He repeated in a gentler voice, clearly containing his annoyance.

Magnus nodded his head slowly. Max told him to not talk to Billy if he didn’t speak to him first, she didn’t say anything about not telling him where she is.

Billy raised his eyebrows expectantly. “Okay, and?”

“The old junkyard.” He answered softly.

Damn. Now he is in trouble. He doesn’t know where that is. He slightly fidgeted in his place. “Do you know how to get there?”

Magnus nodded a slowly, still with the comic in his hands.

“Okay, then get in the car.”

Magnus instantly light up. He didn’t care that Billy used a commanding voice, he was just happy to get a raid again.

The kid quickly rushed out of the shed as silent as a mouse with an annoyed teenager following him.

Billy was already donde for the night, but unfortunately and unknown for him, it would be the longest and most eventful life of his entire life.

Hope you like the new rout I’m taking with this story.