#Checkmate to Murder
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"I suppose all Londoners who survived the winter of 1940 with nerves unimpaired, did develop what the psychologists call 'a defence mechanism' - they learned to disregard disessential bangs."
E.C.R. Lorac, Checkmate to Murder
#quote#quotation#E.C.R. Lorac#Checkmate to Murder#London#the Blitz#defence mechanism#disessential bangs#nerves
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Checkmates
Decided to do some drawings of Tessa and Ryan!
Shadow Tessa and Ryan (in style that we see Tessa in canon!)
Illumined Tessa and Ryan (how they'd be seen outside of shadow selves)
Aaaaaaand the sad one :3 IR Tessa and Ryan
"Fact...I care about you..."
"Fact...I care about you too..."
#murder drones tessa#intersubjective requital#ir#ryan mildenhall#tessa james elliot#tessa elliot#me silly drawing#Checkmates
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Getting some real deja vu, ten years apart.
#lymond chronicles#game of kings#checkmate#dorothy dunnett#hey listen does it ever drive you crazy just how fast the night changes#fanart#anyway i will lie murder and steal for tiny philippa#this really doesn't capture how gross and odiferous checkmate philippa is in this scene but without 4D technology my hands are tied
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if Hannibal and Will weren’t meant to be lovers then why Tailor Swift songs fit them so well, huh?
#checkmate hannigram deniers#hannibal#hannibal nbc#hannigram#will graham#hannibal lecter#murder husbands#hannibal meta
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Think maybe a lot of cruel and stupid people just Actually want to hurt others, and are using the excuse of self preservation to justify it
#just saw a post that was all#unlike those MORONS who think war crimes should be a deal breaker for fucking everyone WE’RE happy to be endorsed by#genocidal maniacs! checkmate!!!!#like you fucks are so fucking happy you can pretend you’re just scared of trump getting into office#as if kamila will actually be much better#as if she hasn’t made it clear she’s just saying whatever will get her into power with 0 genuinely held beliefs#and yes I know politics is all like that why do you think I’m so mad#at spineless assholes like you who keep letting war be on the fucking table of acceptable#and that’s being generous. that’s assuming you don’t relish in people being murdered! that you arent actively happy people are being killed#’’lesser of two evils’’ we’d be better off killing ourselves then listening to bastards like you#it’s less evil to stab a stranger then two strangers!#great moral framework genius I’m sure nothing unforgivable has been justified with that one buddy!!#if you truly conceptualize morals like that you need to rethink#before you get your hollow skull bashed in by someone you’d happily throw under a bus#for a CHANCE at not getting dragged under the tires a fucking minute longer
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Alright so I just went through the Peacemaker search category on comicartfans and to avoid spam will only show the two most interesting (to me) images I saw so
portrait by Cully Hamner of Scarab'd/Sinestro'd Peacemaker
2. This image by Steve Erwin of Peacemaker beating the shit out of Taskmaster
that second ones fucking getting to me
#the steve erwin one is like. Images you can hear. I fucking love it#Im putting these in the tags actually I like these#Peacemaker#Christopher Smith#Chris Smith#These are interesting to me because of them both being by artists that drew Peacemaker like For Comics He Was In and#the first one being a Peacemaker that is RARELY SEEN because NOBODY DRAWS SCARAB'D/SINESTRO'D CHRIS and#the second one being a very in character rendition of Peacemaker just trying to fucking murder taskmaster#oh I love it. the checkmate knight knocked down in the background. Tony looking like he just got#totally knocked off guard because Chris just launched himself at him. Peacemaker kind of looking like hes smiling. oh its good#ok thanks everyone
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Murderous Lewellyn has pretty decent writing and good characterisation BUTTTT wayyy too much emphasis on the flashbacks, the first one was already 25+ chapters long, we didn’t need another 10+ chapters one towards the end of the manhwa
Like that space could’ve been used to.. y’know.. RESOLVE the story?? Instead we got a rushed and tell-all last chapter which while it was cute in itself, was p lazy??? Like I need things fleshed outttt
#checkmate still hitting all the spots for me!!#oh and rainbow city but the manhwa isn’t done so I’ll see how it’s resolved#murderous lewellyn's candlelit dinner#text
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"Think of it. 1850 to 1940. What a period to have lived through! Some folks say there's been more change in the world in those hundred years than in the whole thousand years preceding. Progress? My hat! Do you call it progress?" "Depends where you're progressing to," said Reeves. "Sometime these past two years I've thought human beings were making a bee-line for hell."
E.C.R. Lorac, Checkmate to Murder
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I’m not gonna lie, the whole “what if a big, hairy trans man started using the women’s bathroom? what are TERFs gonna do then?” thing kinda pisses me off being used as some checkmate, because it insinuates that passing trans men would have any kind of power in that situation. If a passing trans man is forced to use the women’s bathroom, you know what will happen? Security will be called on him, he’ll be thrown out, and he’ll be forced to out himself as trans in order to avoid punishment, which will put an even bigger target on his back. He’s still going to be harassed. He’s still going to be forced into an uncomfortable and potentially dangerous situation, and he probably won’t avoid punishment anyway because the current laws in place are never going to favour any trans person’s defence over a cis person’s.
It also completely ignores trans men who aren’t “big and hairy” and don’t pass enough to be mistaken for a cis man. Non-passing trans men (or even men who look or sound effeminate enough to be suspected) who are forced to use the women’s bathrooms are still at a huge risk of harassment or even violence, especially young trans boys who are forced into their assigned bathrooms at school. Nex Benedict was literally murdered in a girl’s bathroom. Girls and women aren’t these inherently non-violent, peaceful and submissive beings (for one thing, that’s misogynistic). Trans men and boys get beaten up by them too, because most of us pre-T aren’t considered a threat, and we fucking die.
That’s not even to mention the trouble we already have in men’s bathrooms, because if we don’t pass, cis men will interrogate us on whether or not we’re “real men” and then sexually assault us if they discover we’re trans. Corrective rapes that trans men face is not something to be ignored, and I have trans male friends that it’s happened to who are lucky to be alive right now.
Bathroom laws will affect us just as much. The violence that trans women face is something that trans men can also relate to, and both need to be talked about without people categorising all trans men as “big, hairy, strong men able to beat up anyone who tries to threaten them” when that’s not the case like 90% of the time. Acting like passing trans men are just there to make TERFs look stupid, when TERFs are the ones who are violent towards us no matter how much we pass, is just diminishing our experiences.
#I’m genuinely so tired of making these posts#because I’m scared of being seen as making everything about trans men#but I can’t really help it when everything DOES affect us too#please remember that every anti-trans law effects trans men too#we can’t be fighting this silently and on our own#because if the trans community divides itself even further we literally have no chance#transandrophobia#anti-terf
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Odysseus, just murdered 108 people and still covered in blood: I’m a different man now… I’ve done so much wrong… can someone like me even be loved anymore…?
Penelope, already tired of this: mhm, okay, then do me a quick favor and move the bed-
Odysseus, incensed: WTF PENELOPE HOW COULD YOU
Penelope, immediately: CHECKMATE MOTHERFUCKER I KNOW IT’S YOU SO QUIT THE PITY PARTY
#epic the musical#epic the ithaca saga#would you fall in love with me again#they truly deserve each other#penelope is a true QUEEN in every way
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middle-class american who subsists primarily on factory farmed beef fed slaughtered by semi-slave immigrant workers on sub-minimum wage and which were raised on soy produced in clear-cut areas of the amazon rainforest which until last year belonged to an uncontacted tribe who have all been murdered by the enforcers of the logging company: well what about inuit people who eat whales huh? checkmate vegans
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I had some fun with the 'Incorrect Quotes generator and these are my headcanons:
Reader: You saved me! Why? Alastor: People would think I murdered you if I didn't.
Alastor: Can I ask you for a favor? Reader: I would literally die for you, but continue. Alastor: We need to talk about you starting sentences that way.
Angel: Hostage or not, sometimes it’s nice being held. Reader: Are you okay?
Alastor: I made tea. Reader: I don't want tea. Alastor: I didn't make you tea. This is my tea. Reader: Then why did you tell me? Alastor: It's a conversation starter. Reader: It's a horrible conversation starter. Alastor: Oh, is it? We're conversing. Checkmate.
Alastor: Wow, Reader, you want to hold my hand before marriage? How awfully lewd of you. Reader: We literally slept together yesterday. Alastor: That's NOTHING compared to the lewdness of holding hands.
#hazbin hotel#alastor#hazbin alastor#alastor x reader#hazbin hotel fanfiction#fraugwinskawrites#angel dust#fraugwinskacandienow
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HEART TO HEART — aventurine
premise ☆ the five times aventurine bares his heart out to you, and the one time it works in his favor (or, in which aventurine says he loves you, in his own little ways.)
a/n ☆ lovesick aventurine, i repeat super lovesick aventurine this is not half-assed, reader is the same reader from make a bet !!
The first time Aventurine opened up to you, he thinks that you looked like what starlight could be in human form.
He speaks your name like a victory falling upon his lips, a measured weight in its cadence. Aventurine relishes in the way you look alert, placing your attention on him (and him alone), sticking to his side like the faithful subordinate that you are.
He's come to learn that you don't exactly do friends—you are the very image of professionalism, never crossing the lines you shouldn't cross; and if he’s not careful, you could disappear at the slightest touch, just like starlight. (Would it kill you to stay just for him?)
“Have I ever told you that you look prettier when you smile?”
You pause from your game, looking up from the chessboard you and your co-worker, boss, and give him a look that one can truly only enjoy if they were either a masochist or someone who enjoyed another's disgust of them. “About 25 times now, Aventurine.”
“You've been counting? I didn't know you loved my praise that much.”
“Does every word that comes out of your lips lack sense, or is it just me?”
“Haha, it's just you.”
“Lucky me.” you roll your eyes. Aventurine's eyes melt, like butter in the sun.
Sometimes he feels the urge to always compliment you—because this is the only way for you to keep your eyes on him, to only look at him, and Aventurine has always loved looking at your eyes.
(If he kept looking, would he convey his heart to you?)
You scrunch up your face. Cute. “What?”
“Nothing.” Fondness bleeds from within him, the Kakavasha of old seeping into the cracks of his hollow shell. Aventurine plays gambles, risks death, yet this feeling of elation is something that triumphed in all of that.
He wonders if you notice; if you know that his honeyed words are genuine, as genuine as a liar like him can be. Aventurine wonders if you can tell that every poke and prod hides the underlying meaning of desperation—the words he can never bring himself to say because he thinks he's far too unworthy (for you). Still…
“I hope you know that it's true.” Just this once, he’ll let you see, just this once. “I mean it. You look prettier when you smile.”
Just this once, Aventurine thinks. He’ll bare his heart to you just this once. It's a gamble, a risk; a gamble he wants to risk.
And indeed, perhaps this is what Gaiathra’s blessing is for.
He sees you bristle like a cat, so wary—but he sees the flush coating your cheeks, reaching well up to the tips of your ears, and he knows he's won. Checkmate. “That's such a lame compliment. Is that best you executives can do?”
“Mm, wouldn't you like to know?” (To love is such an unpredictable thing.)
Aventurine may be a liar, but Kakavasha isn't, because Kakavasha strung together his remains in hopes of perceiving you.
In hopes of loving you.
—
Aventurine has only three words to describe himself: loser, liar, and murderer.
He can think of other words too, like Sigonian, IPC lapdog, coward, unworthy… a plethora of ugly, demeaning, visceral words— it makes his throat bubble with acid, coiling ang churning under the weight of his own existence. Disgusting.
There's another, too. Greedy. He's greedy. Whether as Kakavasha or Aventurine, the hunger to consume all lingers fresh in his mind. The strong takes all, and the weak is left to suffer. It's a need that knows no end, embittering all he cherished, cherishes. Like an iron chain upon his neck. He's greedy for solace, freedom; death, and—
“Aventurine, are you okay?” you.
How truly fortunate he is to behold your expression, when your concern is as slim as the chances of a collision of planets; when the expressive range of your emotions towards him range from either exasperation or irritation.
His smile feels rotten today, unbearably sweet. The smile of a thief. A liar. A Sigonian. “Are you worried about me?”
“You…” the traces of care don't slip from your expression despite the annoyance that betrays your tone. “Be serious here—you haven't been sleeping, have you? What is it? Is Sir Diamond assigning you yet another impossible mission?”
“No. Nothing of the sort, my friend.” His voice is flat. He doesn't know what's more agonizing. Knowing you care (and always have cared) for him, or knowing that he's making you go through all this trouble just to care for him.
He smiles, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes. “It's just a minor upset, don't worry.”
(How could you even care about someone like him? Is this love? Care? How could you look at him like he's worthy of being perceived? He is a liar, a cheat, a coward.)
He doesn't want to be indebted to you. Rather, he doesn't want you to see him; vulnerable, weak. Allowing you to freely enter his study as he's buried under piles of duty bound work just to come across one of the rare times where he's just Kakavasha—alone, weak, and fickle.
(Because as Kakavasha, Aventurine cannot hide his yearning for you, for deceit is unworthy of you; just like he is for you.)
Worst of all, Aventurine feels that if you see him, you’ll find out just how ugly he truly is. You'd slip away from him, like starlight. Out of reach; never to be seen again.
(Humans cannot survive without the light. Aventurine is starting to understand why.)
“Then I'll get you something to eat at least, so you can-”
“No, wait.” He speaks your name like a plea, and you stay. Relief floods through his senses.
Aventurine thinks that perhaps because of the vulnerability he's exposed, you've even become softer. Because why else would you look like that, looking at him like he's worth something? “What is it, Aventurine?”
“Can you stay by my side?” There's a crack in his voice that he wishes to hide, but you don't mind anyway. “Just this once.” Please.
A part of him hurts, having to beg. It reminds him all too much of days when the commodity code on his neck defined the crux of his existence; it is all he will be, will continue to be, all he is allowed to be. But Aventurine is no longer Kakavasha; hiding away from the world.
“...Okay.” Aventurine’s heart throbs when he sees your concerned expression. You know better than to ask questions, something he deems both a boon and a bane. “I'll stay. As- As much as you want.”
Why is he just like a fool whenever he's with you?
They say that to covet what must not be coveted is one’s downfall, and Aventurine is no different. His eyes trail over your form, every inch of the stardust that make you. “Thank you. Really.”
Aventurine has only three words to describe him: liar, loser, and murderer. There may be others, but this defines the very tapestry of his lamentable existence, from the moment he was brought forth upon the world; that of which no longer exists, dissolving like the sand of Sigonia’s deserts.
“Don't thank me, Aventurine. Just—get some rest. I'll be there when you wake up.”
“Nn. You're too kind. Should I double that paycheck of yours next month?”
He can hear you scoff, that bit of mirth you let slip reinvigorating him, sustaining him. “....Sweet dreams, Aventurine.”
And if Aventurine strains his mind enough, deludes himself enough; he can hear you say in a voice that's tender, warm; like the warm embrace of his sister, honeyed Avgin spilling from her lips. Brimming with love. Brimming with care.
‘May the Mother Goddess thrice close her eyes for you,’
Aventurine is a Sigonian lapdog, an unfettered gambler. He needs no tears, for there will be none to shed in his victory. He has never lost, and sees no need to shed tears for something that he will never experience. (His hand still shakes, betting on his life.)
‘keeping your blood eternally pulsing.’
He feels your fingers brush against the strands of his hair, taking off his glasses. Aventurine stills. Kakavasha falls, full of love, loving you.
‘…may your journey be forever peaceful,’
He watches you, staying by his side; and Aventurine can't help but add another name to define him.
‘and your schemes forever concealed.’
A fool. (a lover.)
Two system hours later, Aventurine wakes to the scent of lavender scented candles and a blanket covering his body, with the paperwork neatly handled, your writing scribbled on some of the pages.
Get well soon.
—
Envy is a face Aventurine has long grown accustomed to seeing.
He saw it as Kakavasha; the look others give when they see his eyes, when they look at his profile. As Aventurine, he sees it in the eyes of space traders as they gaze upon his wealth, how the eyes of others fall onto him as he walks past.
Others get consumed by it, others deny it; Aventurine embraces it. He knows the feeling of having nothing and wishing he could have things others can have with little effort.
But the fact that he also wears its mask is ironic, especially given the subject of his envy.
The third time Aventurine bares his heart out to you, it had been an accident.
He shouldn't be jealous, envious of those who get to help you with the IPC’s missions. It is the right, sensible thing to do; because you make him feel illogical, unable to comprehend in the haze of longing.
(Perhaps lovesickness isn't too far off a word.)
This is why you make him break free of his self-imposed apathy at seeing you off. Aventurine checks the file you'd be heading off to, letters in pristine print along with his signature, an indication of his approval. Pier Point. The name besides yours that indicate that you will be travelling together burns him like scalding iron, stinging like a brand upon his skin. Something green and uncomfortable in him roars.
In a sense of uncharacteristic recklessness and perhaps brought upon by his longing; Aventurine ends up seeing you off.
“I'll get going now- Aventurine….?” your words falter when you watch as your co-worker strides toward you, terribly fast. “I thought you weren't coming to see me.”
“I can't have my dearest friend leave without seeing their handsome colleague’s face.” he says, like a liar. Small mercies to his ability to divert his inner feelings—and to not think about the fact that seeing you makes his heart throb in an ache no hunger can satiate.
You scoff, and thankfully you don't seem that irritated. If anything, you're in a good mood today. Even let him see the way your head tilts to bite back a smile. “How fortunate of me then.”
(He is.)
“Extremely.” he calls your name like a wager, seeking an answer. “How long are you going to be away this time?”
“Almost a month, maybe. I was told that since the Pier Point Incursion, many of those under your department have been stationed to help sustain the damage.”
“...I see. My well wishes to you then, friend. Seems you've got your work cut out for you.”
He's sulking, and you can't help but laugh. Like a golden retriever. “Why so glum? Don't tell me you'd miss me.”
And for all his grace at maintaining his carefully crafted mask, Aventurine's whole world stops when he hears the sound. “How could anyone ever not miss you?”
You pause mid-laugh. Aventurine feels his face heat. He slipped up. Again, because of you. Because you always made him feel as though the universe could stop and end with you; and that this rotten hunger that gnawed at his bones might just be that he cared for you far too much for his own good.
…And now he felt like he wanted to fall back into a sandpit and hide there forever. “Is that what you think, Aventurine?”
The way you say his name is so intoxicating. It sounds hesitant, seeing through him in an instant.
“Maybe.” He can't look at you right now, or else he'll imagine it—how could you ever feel the way he feels for you? When you were you and he was… him. “I'm afraid I've been too reliant on my closest colleague.”
“Then come with me next time.” you look at him as though he'd break at any moment; tender. There's something else, too. “If you'd miss me that much.”
You flash him a cheeky, lovely smile, and Aventurine loves, loves, and loves.
How unfair you are, capable of reducing him to bits; bringing him to your light and making his heart set off like fireworks in the night.
For now, he will be Aventurine—he could never resist such a tempting offer, not when its weight was far more valuable than any treasure of all.
He smiles, business-like in nature, one used to deceive, to lie. But Aventurine—Kakavasha smiles in fondness, in adoration. “It would be my pleasure.”
—
Aventurine has always thought that the space in his heart is empty because it was meant to be.
Because he is not worthy of feeling—he is a tool to be used; every part of him taken away and exploited away by others at their whim. In short, he is his best bargaining chip at any stability in his life.
“Aventurine, you’ll catch a cold if you keep forgetting to remove your coat.”
But you don't think that way, and it confuses him, to say the least. Like a shooting star, traces of your existence are specks in his life that have become far too important for him to let go.
Whether it be indulging in his whims of poker, allowing him to see the sight of your expressions in embarrassment and resignation, or the subtleties that have led him to believe (at least, he hopes to believe) that you do care.
And each time, Aventurine embeds your name into his heart even further, dreams of you in the far corners of his heart reserved only for the dead he needed to bury. His feelings, his family, and this growing attachment to you that became too difficult to hold back.
Even now, as you hand him a towel and take his wet coat out of the way, Aventurine doesn't know if this is a blessing or a curse. You are always like this—overwhelmingly blinding, tethering himself to you without warning with your compassion. “I won't get sick.”
“Uh huh.” your eyebrows raise, and you take him inside. “That’s what all the people who get sick after being soaked in the rain say.”
“Well, aren't you just charming.”
“Thanks, I'm told it's one of my defining qualities.”
He laughs, genuine. You're probably the only one to be able to bring out this part of him. “Such an angel you are.”
“Yes, yes, very much.” You smile with faux sweetness, though Aventurine's heart stutters anyway. “Stop patronizing me and dry off already.”
“Alright, no need to get so fussy.” he throws up his hands in surrender, and he waits until you leave his quarters, strides measured as you give him privacy to change.
Aventurine wonders if you know just how much he loves you. Because he knows he does.
Recently, Kakavasha has come to a dangerous conclusion.
Perhaps the reason the space in his heart is empty was because you had been dictated to fit in it, and that Aventurine knows he’d never want you to leave.
—
Grief haunts Aventurine like a ghost, an old friend. Anguish whispers in Kakavasha’s ears and dictates its path to be his destiny.
But love comes in the form of Aventurine’s adoration for you.
“Have you ever wondered what it would be like to die?”
“No.”
A lie. Aventurine has always had a morbid, twisted curiosity of death. Death is the earliest lesson taught to him, among the lessons of Mama Fenge and the cruel acts of the Katicans. Death is his companion, a reminder that his life is merely defined by his usefulness, his luck.
“Why are you asking?” It is a mundane question, spoken atop the glamourous balcony as you and him look down at the glittering streetlights in Penacony below, watching the people of the dreamscape live the life their reality never brought them.
“No reason. Just… I wondered.” You hum, and Aventurine notes the miniscule shiver of your body, the lowering of your gaze; you're thinking about something again. (He wonders if you'd let him listen to what you want to say.) “What death might be like in this dreamscape.”
An underlying feeling of tension. You know what Aventurine's been up to. What he's been searching for in order to act out the IPC’s plan. Though it infuriates you to know he's doing this to himself, you're powerless to do anything about it. There is a wall between you that Aventurine refuses to cross.
Instead, his silent question comes in the form of his coat draped around your back. There's no motion of rejection from you, which makes him feel nice—even if it's just for a while. “Thank you.”
You didn't need to thank him. Aventurine knows that he'd do anything for you anyway even if you don't ask a thing. But you do anyway, because you were lovely and blinding; and he yearns to grasp at even a single wisp of your reality.
“For what it's worth,” Aventurine says, the characteristic lilt of amusement in his voice gone, replaced with something authentic, “I wouldn't want you to die. Such a thing would be unfortunate for someone with lots of promise in the economic field.”
You glance at him with a funny look, exasperated but not surprised. “Well, I'm glad you think so highly of me...?”
He cringes at that, huffs out a weak ‘naturally’ as he stares out at the distance. The wall between you weakens.
“And, well, the sentiment is the same for me. I don't want you to die either.” you say, and the glow of the streetlights illuminate your face, and Aventurine's eyes don't leave your presence, wanting to burn the sight to his irises, to his pupils; never letting a fiber of your being go unloved. Retaining you and keeping you close when his hands cannot.
(If only you knew.)
“I wouldn't go down without a fight.” he says, and Aventurine takes you in—the ways in which you gaze upon the scenery below, watching how you chuckle as you hear the loud countdown to the fireworks, the way your voice has always been the light, his adoration for you a stone to grab on in his gamble in life.
There's silence. Loving you is like loving the way the air fills your lungs as you breathe, because loving you was as natural as breathing in the sandy dunes of the place he once called home, as natural as the Avgin that filled his ears, and loving you is everything to him, for Kakavasha was a dreamer, and you are his dreams personified.
Loving you reminds him of home, because you have burrowed your way into his bones, his lungs and his skin, and Kakavasha fills himself with your existence and lives. Loves.
He speaks your name like it's the last thing he could ever do, and that through you, Kakavasha lived, and Kakavasha loved you.
And like always, it's there. Your attention, on him, as he always knows it will be (and as he always hopes it shall be.) as you gaze at him like he's the brightest star in the sky. Or maybe it's the light refracting in your eyes. Aventurine doesn't really care which. “What is it?”
The wall between you two disappears completely, and Kakavasha begins anew, his heart undone.
When Aventurine finally bares his heart to you for the fifth time as the burst of fireworks ricochet across the skies, he hopes those three words will reach you.
bonus: the one time aventurine bares out his heart to you, and he gets rewarded.
Aventurine’s hair has always reminded you of the color of gold.
It is the color of the sunlight as it gently basks against your skin, the color of expensive champagne the man next to you so favors, and the color of the edges of his sunglasses.
(You've always been fond of yellow.)
“Aventurine?” you say, tone light, urging him to wake up. He's truly relentless, adamant on sulking as though his most valuable treasure would slip away from his grasp like you are right now because you were running late. “Can you let me get up now?”
“Good morning to you too.” purple eyes greet your form and an arm winds itself around your waist, pulling you even closer. “And unfortunately for you, I'm afraid I don't want to.”
“I'll be late. You know Jade hates tardiness-”
“-And I would be devastated to not have my lover by my side and leave me heartlessly.” Aventurine feigns, the falsity of his hurt not affecting you at all.
“You…” You frown at him, and Aventurine kisses the crease of your eyebrows of your face, enjoying the way your cheeks flush the like burn of alcohol down one’s throat. “You're so insufferable.”
“Mhm, whatever helps you let out that ire of yours.” he looks at you like he would the most precious of ores, the most valuable of cards—Aventurine looks at you unabashedly, wholly, in affection.
“Will you ever let me be on time?”
“Would you ever let me stop loving you?” he presses a kiss to your palm, tender as his hand traces circles on your palm. Aventurine already knows the answer.
“Thats two completely different things.” you sigh, but it's exasperatedly fond, and Aventurine’s heart skips a beat. He finds his answer when you press a chaste kiss upon the edge of his mouth. “Don't answer a question with a question.”
“It's a great conversation tactic, though. And to answer your question, no, I don't think I will.”
“Kakavasha.” You warn. His name on your lips feels a little like salvation, and Aventurine feels a warm ache fill his stomach, blooming into something not so dissimilar to devotion.
With you, there is no Aventurine of Strategems, no Aventurine of the Ten Stonehearts. All that remains is Kakavasha, one that loves you, and one that you love too.
Aventurine laughs, and the die is cast. “Let's make a bet then.”
“Ugh, not another one of those.” you groan, but you make no notion to refuse anyway.
“Sway my heart enough to let you go.” he smirks, cunning as ever. You roll your eyes, though it's nothing if not affectionate, determined glint shining in your eyes just like starlight.
“Oh, that's way too easy. Deal.”
Recently, he's come to a conclusion; Aventurine thinks that if it's with you, no gamble is worthier than this.
(With you, Aventurine is whole, and he is home.)
end notes im gonna kms i hate the ending like actually hate it this fic is the product of boundless hatred and the urge to never show it to the light ever but here i am
© 𝐈𝐂𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐇𝐈𝐄 : do not repost, copy, or plagiarize my work.
#mhie's spirals#—stellaronhvnters#aventurine x you#aventurine x y/n#hsr x gender neutral reader#hsr x you#hsr x reader#hsr aventurine#aventurine HSR#aventurine x reader#everyone say thank you to ieyn because she was the one who said the ending had to be fluff instead of aventurine dying in reader's arms ^^
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The Kidnap.

Warnings : smut , heavy smut, protected sex, use of condom, Kidnapping, biting, size difference, BDSM, Yandere Gojo, protective, jealous, obsessive, reader is Toji's adopted daughter....

( All characters are aged up/18+)
Minors Do Not Interact
Read the warnings carefully....if you don't like my stories block me not report

Gojo's pov
The war between me and Toji Fushiguro had reached its boiling point. Blood spilled, alliances broken, families torn apart. It wasn’t business anymore. It was personal. For years, Toji had been a thorn in my side — stealing shipments, sabotaging deals, murdering my men, and daring to exist like an equal. When I got to know....I wanted to break him completely. But recently, my informants had delivered a very interesting piece of information:
Toji had a daughter. A daughter carefully hidden from the public eye. Protected. Guarded. Untouched by the blood and violence her father thrived in. Y/N Fushiguro. She was Toji’s greatest vulnerability — the only soft spot in the monster’s heart. The one thing Toji tried to keep outside of his dirty world. And that was exactly why I decided to strike there.
It wouldn’t just be an attack.
It would be humiliation.
It would be power.
It would be checkmate.
When I entered the room that morning, my men stepped back with respect. This was supposed to be simple. She was the daughter of my biggest enemy — Toji Fushiguro — the man who had betrayed the syndicate, taken money, murdered allies, and laughed at my warnings. This was supposed to be leverage. Nothing more. But when I opened the door and saw her—Curled under the covers, her breathing soft, her lashes fanned across her cheeks, her lips slightly parted — my chest tightened in a way it never had before. For a brief second, my usual coldness faltered.
Beautiful. Delicate. Vulnerable. The enemy’s daughter. I clenched my jaw, but inside—What the hell is this? I did not fall for anyone. I controlled. I ruled. But something about her twisted my insides. I stood there for a long moment, silently watching her breathe. Then I turned, locking the door behind me as I left without a word. I wouldn’t admit it. Not even to myself.
Y/n's pov
An hour later, I woke up. The first thing I noticed: This wasn’t my bedroom. The second thing: There were armed men outside my door. The third thing: I was PISSED. Storming out like an unhinged tornado, I made every guard panic as I shoved, slapped, and cursed my way down the hallway. “Who the hell are you people?! Do you have any IDEA who my father is?!” I shouted, jabbing one poor guy in the chest. “Y-Yes, ma’am—” he said. “THEN WHY THE HELL AM I HERE?!” I smacked him across the face. The entire hallway went silent. Another one tried to intervene. “Please calm down—” SMACK. “I’M CALM!” I declared.
They told me the way. Without knocking, I kicked open a massive oak door. Gojo was inside having a serious meeting with his top lieutenants. Charts, files, weapons — pure mafia business. Until I crashed in like a hurricane. “WHICH ONE OF YOU BRAIN-DEAD MORONS KIDNAPPED ME?!” The men froze. Their faces turned pale. All eyes turned to Gojo. “This? This is the one who kidnapped me? This beanpole scarecrow looking ass?” The room went dead silent. Gojo blinked. One of his men started coughing, trying to suppress a laugh. I kept going. Rage in full throttle. “You look like you bleach your hair with toilet cleaner.” “Your face is like... like a malfunctioned anime character.” One man nearly choked on his water. Another covered his mouth, trembling.
Gojo sat there completely still, face blank, but his eye twitched ever so slightly. I folded my arms, glaring at him like he was dirt. “My father has scarier wrinkles than your entire personality.” One man burst into laughter before Gojo shot him a single glare, making him shut up instantly. Gojo finally spoke, voice flat. “…Are you done?” I looked at him up and down one last time. “Yes. I’ve seen enough.” Then I turned around, leaving the meeting room dramatically as the door swung behind you with a loud BANG.
Evening fell over the mansion like heavy velvet. I was pacing back and forth inside the guest room-slash-prison they dumped me in after my dramatic roast session earlier. I thought I won. I thought I humiliated him so bad he wouldn’t dare face me again. Oh… how wrong I was. KNOCK. KNOCK. I froze. The door creaked open slowly. And there he was. Gojo Satoru. In all his terrifying glory. Now that I wasn't half-asleep and rage-blind, I really saw him.
First realization:
He was MASSIVE. He was easily 6'3. A literal skyscraper of muscle, broad shoulders, strong arms, and long legs. The veins on his forearms looked like roadmaps. His black button-up was tight around his chest, sleeves rolled up slightly, showcasing very non-skippable gym sessions.
Second realization:
I'm cooked.
“Good evening, little hostage.” His voice was smooth. Mocking. Dangerous. I swallowed. Suddenly, all the insults from this morning felt… distant.
My brain:
CALL HIM BLEACH HEAD AGAIN. INSULT HIS FACE.
My mouth:
“H-Hi.”
He took slow, heavy steps inside, closing the door behind him with a quiet click that sounded way more threatening than it should’ve. Now it was just me and him. No guards. No escape. Gojo smiled down at me like a predator who finally caught his prey.
"You were very... expressive this morning," he said, voice low. I forced a nervous laugh. “Y-Yeah, I tend to get a little, um... passionate?” He leaned forward slightly, towering even more.
Gojo: “Malfunctioned anime character, was it?”
Y/n: “T-To be fair, sir, I was very emotional.” I was sweating.
Gojo: “Toilet bleach hair?”
Y/n: “Everyone makes mistakes.”
Gojo: “Beanpole scarecrow?”
Y/n: “Character growth! Personal development!” You waved your hands frantically like you were talking your way out of a police interrogation. Gojo’s smirk widened. He was thoroughly enjoying this. I stepped back instinctively as he stalked closer, leaving me pressed against the wall like a tiny cornered kitten.
He leaned down, face inches from yours, his deep voice dropping even lower “You don’t seem quite as brave now, princess.” My whole soul left my body. “So…” he drawled, voice smooth like silk. “I look like a malfunctioned anime character?” I waved my hands. “No no no, listen — I love anime! I mean, you’re more like… um… like a… main character! Yes! Like, tall, mysterious, uh… intimidating— I mean, not in a bad way! Very professional! Respectfully terrifying, you know?” He raised one perfectly sharp brow. You smiled like a desperate hostage. “Did I mention tall? So tall. Very... tall.”
“And toilet bleach hair?” he whispered, smirking. I broke into full panic mode. “Oh my god no, sir! I mean, your hair is beautiful! Angelic, even. Platinum! Like… like snow! Expensive snow.”
My brain:
THIS IS FINE. EVERYTHING IS FINE. TOTALLY FINE.
My mouth:
“… You smell nice.”
For a moment, even Gojo blinked in surprise. I internally screamed at myself. DID I JUST TELL THE KIDNAPPER HE SMELLS NICE??He chuckled, low and amused. “Do I?” I nodded furiously. “Yep! Yep! Like... expensive soap.”
“Like expensive soap, yes!” I repeated, praying to every god I've never believed in. “Probably custom imported from Italy or Switzerland or... wherever mafia people get their soap!” Gojo’s smirk widened, absolutely eating this up. “Oh, so now you’re an expert on my hygiene habits, princess?” I nodded frantically. “Yes! In fact, you're the cleanest kidnapper I’ve ever met!”…which, thinking about it, was not the flex I thought it was. Then he suddenly went quiet. His smile faded.
Oh no. OH NO. “You know,” he said, voice dropping into something dark and dangerously soft. “You’re pretty comfortable for someone whose father wants my head served on a fucking silver platter.” my heart stopped. The color drained from my face. “In fact,” he whispered, leaning in so close his breath ghosted against my skin, “your father will probably kill me the second he finds out you're here.” My lip quivered. Oh my god I'm going to die. I'm going to die because I called a literal mafia boss a scarecrow beanpole bleach-head. “B-But you won’t let him kill you… right?” you squeaked. “Because you’re, you know… strong. And handsome. Very… extremely… overwhelmingly handsome.” he whispered “You know, Y/N… you’ve said some very creative things about me.”
My voice cracked as I tried to defuse him with panicked cheerfulness “All misunderstandings, sir! Heat of the moment, sir! Love makes people say crazy things — not that I love you! Nope! Definitely not—” He cut me off“Love, hmm?” His sharp grin widened as my face turned to horror. “I mean—I meant like, in general! Not you specifically, I mean like people—humans—love makes people crazy—like your hair! NO! I mean not your hair! Your hair is great—” I replied.
My brain:
STOP TALKING. STOP TALKING. SHUT. UP.
Gojo’s voice dropped dangerously low. “You called me ugly.” he said. “That was a poor life choice, sir.” I replied. “You slapped my men.” he said. “They looked slap-able, sir.” I replied. “You humiliated me in front of my entire organization.” he said. I could feel my soul packing its bags. “I can apologize profusely, sir.” I replied. “Oh no, sweetheart,” he whispered, leaning even closer, his breath ghosting my ear, “it’s far too late for that.”
Gojo paused. And then whispered in that bone-chillingly calm tone “I should kill you.” my face dropped. “H-h-haha, w-wait, what?” I stopped mid sentence when I realized what he said. “I should kill you,” he repeated, like it was casual dinner conversation. “It would send a clear message to your father, wouldn’t it? That Toji Fushiguro can’t protect his own daughter.” My lip quivered. My vision blurred for a second. “I… I have allergies…” I blurted stupidly. Gojo blinked at that one. Even he was briefly confused. “Allergies?” he asked. “Y-yeah! To, um… dying.” I replied. “Allergic to dying. Very allergic. Like… fatal levels.” I'm crying now.
“W-Wait! Wait, wait, wait, sir… p-please—listen! I-I can be useful!” I said whatever came to my mind. Gojo tilted his head with a lazy grin. “Useful? In what way, sweetheart?” I swallowed hard. My brain scrambled for options. “I mean… you know...” I slowly ran my hands down my own sides, flexing whatever curves I had like my life depended on it. “I-I’m not just a hostage… I can offer… other services.” Gojo arched one perfect white eyebrow. “Other services?” he asked. “Y-Yeah. You know… like… I mean, you’re a busy man, sir. You have needs.” my voice cracked slightly, but I kept going like a total lunatic.
“S-So instead of killing me... I could, um, relieve some of your... daily stress?” I watched him blink once. Twice. Then his lips slowly curled into the most amused, unholy grin I've ever seen. “Daily stress, huh?” he asked. “Y-Yes, sir. Like… anytime, anywhere. Total stress relief package. I come with perks! Loyalty! Privacy! Great flexibility!” I even did a small hip sway like a failing stripper trying her absolute best.
Inside my head:
WHAT THE FUCK AM I EVEN SAYING.
PLEASE GOD STRIKE ME DOWN RIGHT NOW.
Gojo was eating it up. He leaned one palm against the wall beside my head, towering over me as I shrank under him, still trying my absolute filthiest “I-I swear I won’t say those things again. N-No more bleach hair. No more malfunctioned anime jokes. You're very handsome, sir. Extremely hot. Like, the hottest mafia boss. The hottest man. In history.”
He chuckled. “In history?” he asked. “YES. Cleopatra would cry seeing you.” I even tried batting my lashes dramatically. “You really are desperate not to die, huh?” he asked. “I have so much to live for, sir. So many... talents.” And then. I still don't know why I said that. “You can use me, sir... like however you want. You want sex? Boom — I’m here. You want a lapdance? Done. You want me to pretend you’re taller? I’ll say you’re 7 foot. You want me to moan your name while making you coffee? EASY.” I said it. I actually said it. I wanted to die from pure humiliation but I just kept smiling like a maniac. “But—” he smirked wickedly, “—I’ll definitely keep that little... offer on file.” And with that, Gojo finally straightened, turned around, and strolled toward the door like he didn’t just mentally destroy me. Right before exiting, he looked over his shoulder and winked “Sweet dreams, my personal stress reliever.” The door shut. I immediately collapsed to the floor, gripping my chest, hyperventilating. OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD. I whispered to myself “I just offered myself as a sex coupon. What is wrong with me?!”
It had been a few days since the incident. Since I — in an act of pure survival instinct — offered myself up like some desperate sex voucher to the scariest man I’d ever met. And somehow... I was still alive. Which I guess was good? Though every second here felt like walking on a landmine. Today, I was sitting alone with Shoko — one of Gojo's high-ranking men. Well, technically his right-hand woman. But honestly? She was kinda cool. Calm. Unbothered. A bit terrifying, sure, but at least she didn't stare at me like I was his next meal like Gojo did. She lit a cigarette, exhaling smoothly. "So, how's life with the boss?" she asked, deadpan.
I rolled my eyes so hard they nearly fell out of my head. "Oh, you mean him? The bleach-headed disaster?" Shoko chuckled under her breath. “Go on.” she said. “I hate him....He looks like a failed sex experiment. I don’t even know what went wrong in that lab, but whatever it was — someone should’ve pulled the plug immediately.” Shoko’s lips twitched but she stayed silent. “His ego is bigger than his forehead. And that’s saying something.” I said. “...True,” she nodded, puffing smoke. “His face looks like God was drunk while designing him. One minute: ‘oh let’s give him pretty eyes!’ The next: ‘let’s stretch his entire head like a bobblehead!’” I was getting bolder, my voice rising.
“You know what he reminds me of?” I leaned closer, whispering dramatically. “Like if a mafia boss, an anime villain, and a discount Calvin Klein model had a threesome—” I said. “—and regretted it immediately,” Shoko finished, finally letting out a soft laugh. “EXACTLY!” I was on a full roast roll now. “He walks around like he invented oxygen. Like, congratulations on being tall — you want a medal?!” Shoko just smiled silently, not saying a word. Her eyes slightly flickered to something behind me. “What?” I asked, confused by her look. “Why are you smiling like that?”
"Nothing," she said calmly. "Do continue." “I mean, even his name—Satoru Gojo—it sounds like a brand of designer toilet paper—” “—soft but dangerous.” Shoko nodded again. I burst out laughing, waving my hands. “RIGHT?! That’s perfect. He’s exactly like—” Then I stopped. Because I noticed it. The... presence. That icy-cold, spine-melting pressure that filled the room behind me. My stomach dropped to my ass. Very, very slowly, I turned around. And there he was. Gojo Satoru. Leaning against the doorframe. Arms crossed. Expression unreadable. Glacial blue eyes locked directly onto me. I froze. Shoko, the traitor, calmly stood up, flicking the ash off her cigarette. “Well… I’ll leave you two to it.” She smiled like she had front-row tickets to a car crash.
And with that, she slipped out of the room like smoke. The door closed. Click. Then another noise. Lock. My entire body locked up. I felt my throat go dry as Gojo pushed off the door and took slow, deliberate steps toward me. The heavy sound of his dress shoes echoed in the dead silence. One. Two. Three steps. “Failed sex experiment?” His voice was calm. Too calm. I laughed nervously, waving my hands. “O-oh, you heard that? Haha! You know, jokes! Classic hostage banter!” He kept walking. “Designer toilet paper?” I backed up until my legs hit the bed behind me. “It’s a... compliment in some cultures?” He tilted his head. He was right in front of me now. I was cornered. His tall frame loomed over me, eyes dark, but his lips curled into that goddamn smirk. “You know.....I was thinking" he said.
"Oh please don't think" I whispered and he raised an eyebrow. "I-I mean.... What were you thinking?" I asked with the most fake sweet smile possible. "About the offer you gave me..... And I thought how generous of you to offering me to fuck you.... So I wanna do it today.... Now" He said. "WHAT??????!!!!" I almost screamed. "Yes" He said looking at his shirt as he started unbuttoning his shirt. "WAIT WAIT WAIT WAIT.... WAIT" I said as I fell on my butt on the bed. "Hmmm" He said and continued undoing his shirt.
He took off his shirt and threw it on the floor. To be honest...... HE'S LOOKING HOTTTTT!!!! "Look, Gojo–" Before I could complete my sentence he grabbed my waist and pushed me on the bed with himself. I was caged under him. "Say Satoru when you scream it" He said and crashed his mouth on mine. He pulled me closer. His hand slid to my chest and squeezed it. I gasped. He pushed his tongue more inside my mouth. I licked on his tongue and sucked on his mouth. I CAN'T BELIEVE I JUST DID THAT! But oh god..... He looks so hot. Yes I did say worse things on his face.... But from inside I was afraid to accept how he was making me feel all the time.... So when it's my fate who am I to refuse?
I grabbed on his shoulder as he tear off my night gown. He trailed open mouthed kisses from my jaw to chest. I moaned. He didn't let me catch another breath and sucked on my boob. I grabbed his hair and moaned loudly. I heard him groan on my chest. He sucked on my nipple, circling his tongue around it.... Teasing it, sucking it. My toes curled at the way he was sucking on my chest. He pressed his crotch forward on my cunt. And I could feel he was rock hard. I pushed my hips up to press on it harder. He groaned louder.
He couldn't control it anymore. He sat up and pulled down his pants. His dick is too big. Precum dripping from the head which is red. I was getting wetter by looking at it. He pulled the drawer beside the bed and took out a condom, ripped off the packet with his teeth and quickly put on the condom on his cock. Then he crawled back over me. He spread my legs apart and ripped off my pantie. "Fuck. I wanted touch this so badly" He whispered. Oh... Gentleman~.....But why does he has condoms in his drawers?!
"Why do you have condoms in your drawer?" I asked him. He was lining his cock on my cunt. He looked up at me the after a second he smirked. "Why?.... Jealous?" He teased. My face heated up so fast. "Maybe I keep them here for fucking other girls....you know,I've plenty of them" He whispered. Something inside me twisted. "The go fuck those whor–" I couldn't complete my sentence.... He pushed his cock inside. I moaned loudly "FUCKKK!!!!". It sounded like scream more than moan. "I bought them after the day you offered to have sex with you" He whispered and started thrusting. Desperately.
As if he was waiting for it for a lifetime. "Fuck—fuck—fuck—fuck" He moaned between thrusts. My back arched, eyes rolled back, mouth wide open. My nails are scratching his back. It feels too good. My mind is going dizzy. All I can hear is wet slapping sounds. "Fuck, satoru...harder please!!!" I screamed. "As you say baby" He replied. He supported himself on his right hand and grabbed the headboard with his left hand and started thrusting harder. He went faster and faster, harder and harder. My eyes rolled back. How can a human go that fast?! I dig my nails on his back. He went on that pace. In a moment I heard a sound of wood breaking. The top part of the headboard broke in gojo's hand.
He kept thrusting and threw that broken wood on the floor. Then grabbed the mattress to support his left hand and he went harder. IS THAT EVEN POSSIBLE?!?! I moaned so loudly like my life depends on it and bite on his neck. My fingers hurts from scratching his back. In a moment one leg of the bed snapped. I hugged him as tight as possible. It didn't take more time to make me cum. After I came cunt squeezed around his cock tightly. He groaned loudly and pushed his hips forward. He came. He ran his fingers through his hair, went up and pulled out. He looked at me only to see me already passed out. He his fingers on his neck where I bite him and chuckled to himself. That's not the last time we did it.... It happened again and again.
Gojo’s Men POV
We’ve seen many things. We’ve seen Gojo kill men with a single snap of his fingers. We’ve seen him make the most feared mafia bosses grovel like dogs. We’ve seen him dismantle entire empires before breakfast. But this? This was different. It started this morning. We were all standing outside the meeting room, waiting for boss’s orders. As usual, serious. Silent. Tense. Then—
SLAM.
The door BURST open. And there she was. Y/N. The only woman on planet Earth who apparently had a death wish. “SATORU GOJO!” We all collectively flinched. She just… yelled his full name. We exchanged horrified glances. Does she not value her life?! Did she forget who she was screaming at?
The boss, sitting at the head of the table, blinked. Then casually leaned back in his chair, that cocky grin on his face. “Yes, darling?” he asked. We prepared ourselves for the nuclear explosion. But oh no — it was worse. She marched straight up to him, ignoring every dangerous man in that room like they were invisible. “YOU PROMISED ME WE’D GO OUT YESTERDAY. AND YOU CANCELLED. AGAIN.” Her voice was pure fury. We braced for her immediate execution. Instead....The great, terrifying, untouchable Gojo Satoru…Apologized.
“I know, baby, I’m sorry. I got caught up with business. Please don’t be mad.” We all blinked in unison. WHAT. “I’ve been waiting all day!” she continued, arms crossed like an angry wife. Gojo stood up, hands raised, trying to calm her like she was a ticking bomb. “I’ll make it up to you, I swear. Dinner. Anywhere you want. I’ll buy out the whole damn restaurant if you want me to.” Our jaws collectively hit the floor. Is this real life? Is he… begging? She huffed. “You better.” And just like that, she spun on her heels and stormed out, leaving a room full of frozen mafia men.
And this morning? This morning officially broke us. We gathered at the courtyard for Gojo’s daily training. Like always, he was doing his early morning pushups, shirtless, his muscles flexing like some god of war. Dead silent. Focused. Not even daring to breathe too loud. And then she appeared. Wearing her short pink robe, rubbing her eyes, yawning. “Satoru, you’re up early again.” We stiffened immediately. All eyes on her. She casually walked over to him while he kept doing pushups. We braced ourselves. Was she gonna touch him? Dear God, no one touches him. And????..... SHE. SAT. ON. HIS. BACK.
WE ALL FROZE. SHE SAT ON HIS BACK. DURING HIS PUSHUPS?! Every man here thought they were about to witness a live execution. Gojo satoru has killed people for touching him! We silently prayed for her soul. 'Rest in peace, ma’am.' But then...HE KEPT GOING. Without blinking. Without even reacting. He just continued his pushups like nothing happened, as if she wasn’t adding extra weight onto him. “Comfy, sweetheart?” he asked, casually. “Mhm,” she hummed, swinging her legs like she was sitting on a park bench. Our brains couldn’t process it. This was Gojo Satoru? The man who once blasted an entire army of underground men for one of them accidentally brushing against his jacket sleeve. The man who sliced a traitor’s throat for interrupting him mid-sentence. The man who ordered us to burn a rival’s headquarters because they didn’t bow fast enough.....
And here he was…Letting this girl sit on his back like a human backpack and calling her sweetheart? Did anyone kidnap him and replace him?????
Y/N’s POV
His lips were warm. His hands were everywhere. His breath mixed with mine, making my head spin. I was on his lap, my legs wrapped around his waist, grinding against his crotch, desperately . Every time I moved, I felt him getting harder, groan softly, gripping my hips tighter like he was trying not to lose control. “God… you’re gonna kill me one day, baby,” he whispered against my lips. I laughed breathlessly. “That’s my job, isn’t it? Torture the big bad mafia boss.” I said. “Mm. You do it so well.” He said kissing down my neck, biting softly, his voice raspy and dark. “You were made to ruin me.”
We were both completely lost in each other's mouth. His shirt was half open, my top hanging off one shoulder, heat building between us like a goddamn wildfire—BANG! The door BURST open. Both our heads snapped toward it. And there, standing like a deer in headlights, was one of his men — poor bastard named Keiji. Wide eyes. Mouth hanging open. His whole soul leaving his body in real-time. “I—I—Boss—I’m—I—” He stuttered so hard I thought his brain was physically crashing. Gojo’s hand twitched on my waist. He clenched his jaw. “Keiji.” His voice dropped into that terrifying calm. The one that usually meant 'You’re already dead.' Keiji immediately dropped to his knees on the floor. “PLEASE, BOSS!!! I SAW NOTHING!!! NOTHING, I SWEAR!!! PLEASE—DON’T KILL ME—PLEASE—I’VE GOT A FAMILY—I HAVE KIDS—I—I—I’M BLIND NOW!!! I CAN’T EVEN SEE ANYMORE, I SWEAR!!!”
I could literally feel Gojo’s bloodlust rising beneath me. His grip on my waist tightened. His stare cold as ice. “You walked into my private quarters. Without knocking.”gojo said. “I—I THOUGHT IT WAS URGENT, BOSS, I SWEAR!!!” keiji replied. Keiji started fully sobbing now. I could hear his teeth chattering. “You know what I do to people who see things they’re not supposed to.” gojo said. “I—I—PLEASE—PLEASE—"keiji tried to beg. Shit. He was about to kill this poor man. I looked at gojo and forcing him to look at me. “Satoru,” I whispered sweetly, softly pressing my forehead to his. “Don’t. Please. Not tonight.” His murderous eyes locked onto mine. He didn’t speak. His jaw flexed hard. There was a long pause. I could hear Keiji’s terrified little gasps as he waited for his fate. Finally, Gojo sighed heavily — still glaring at Keiji. “....get out.” gojo ordered. Keiji's head shot up.
“T-THANK YOU, MISS Y/N!!! THANK YOU! YOU’RE AN ANGEL!!! A GODDESS!!! I—I OWE YOU MY LIFE!!!” He scrambled to his feet so fast he almost tripped, bowing repeatedly, practically kissing the floor. “I—I WON’T SAY A WORD!!! YOU HAVE MY SOUL, MISS Y/N!!!” And then —he bolted out of the room like his ass was on fire. As soon as the door slammed shut behind him, I exhaled, still sitting on Gojo’s lap. Gojo just stared at me — half amused, half irritated. “You keep saving people from me, princess.” he said. “Well…” I gave him a playful smirk. “Someone’s gotta balance out your body count.” I replied. He raised one brow, his dangerous smile returning as his hands slid back to my hips. “You just love making me weak, don’t you?” he asked. I leaned in, whispering against his lips “Every single day.” and then his mouth crashed back onto mine again, pulling me even closer.
That day gojo wasn't home. And all of a sudden I could only hear the sound of bullets. The door blasts open. There stood my dad. Toji. He brought me back home. He was totally normal until he got a call from someone....I don't know who it was and what he/she said. Toji sat there, silent for a long time, eyes sharp like a knife. His jaw clenched, rage boiling under his skin. And beside him, my uncle — Noya Zenin. The man I hated my whole life. He tried to ruin my life so many times but never been successful.
He's Leaning back in his chair like this was some kind of twisted entertainment. Toji's voice finally broke the suffocating silence. “Tell me one thing, Y/N.” I swallowed, barely able to breathe. “W-What…?” I asked. “Is it true?” His voice was low. Deadly calm.“What are you talking about…?” I asked. “DID HE FUCK YOU?!!”He roared, slamming his hand against the table. I flinched hard, my chest rising and falling in panic. “N-No— it’s not— I—” I couldn’t even form words. The truth burned in my throat, but fear sealed my lips.
He stood up suddenly, towering over me. His fist flew —Slap! The slap threw me to the floor. The sharp sting burned across my cheek. My ears rang. “You disgusting girl.” His voice dripped with venom. “After everything I’ve done for you.” Noya stepped in, voice cool and mocking. “You know what I don’t get, brother?” He smiled like a viper. “You raised her like your own, gave her everything. And how does she repay you? By spreading her legs for your biggest enemy.” “Noya, please… I—I didn't—” I sobbed, my voice trembling. But he kept going, eyes full of fake pity. “This is what happens when you give girls too much freedom, Toji. They go chasing after power. I told you the day you adopted her that she's not worthy of being adopted by you. And now? She saw Gojo’s wealth, his name, and thought: ‘Maybe I can become his little whore.’" Noya said with a smirk. “N-No! It's not like—” I tried to speak.
I cried, trying to crawl toward Toji, but he shoved me back with his foot like trash. Noya leaned closer to him, voice even lower, like he was savoring every word. “Honestly, if she wants to be a whore, let her be one. Sell her. That’s what she’s good for now, isn’t it? We’ll make good money. I’m sure plenty of men would pay millions just to sleep with Gojo Satoru’s girl.” noya said evilly. I froze. My entire was body numb. “No… no… please…” I sobbed harder, my entire face wet with tears. Toji looked down at me like I was nothing. “You’ve brought shame to this family. You’re not my daughter.” Toji said. I couldn’t breathe. “P-please, father—Please don’t sell me....”
I tried to reach for his hand.He yanked it away like I was poisoned. “You are nothing to me.” His next words crushed my soul completely “Noya. Do whatever you want with her. Sell her whatever you want.” toji said. Then he turned and walked out, leaving me on the cold floor, shaking, broken, abandoned. Noya’s laugh echoed behind me. “Well, well, little whore.” He crouched down, gripping my chin cruelly. “finally ruined your life....not only that now THE GOJO SATORU would be humiliated as well.....can't wait to see his face when the majority of underground men gonna say that they've slept with his girl on his face.....can you imagine? I'm the one who's gonna ruin his name and reputation”
I was thrown into the dark room like garbage. The door slammed behind me with a heavy metallic clank. The sound of locks clicking shut made my blood freeze. I scrambled up, heart pounding, hands shaking. My body trembled not just from fear — but from the cold air hitting my exposed skin. Noya made sure I was dressed like this. Thin. Barely any fabric covering me. “Please…” I whispered at the locked door, banging my fist. “Don’t do this… please open the door! I beg you!!” I begged. No response. Then… I heard him. The man. He stepped out from the corner of the room. Tall, greasy black hair slicked back. Eyes hungry. Filthy. His smile twisted, lips curling like a snake sizing up its prey. His breathing was already heavy as he eyed me up and down, licking his lips like a starving animal.
“Well, well,” he chuckled, voice slimy. “The famous Gojo Satoru’s toy… all for me.” He slowly started unbuttoning his shirt, revealing a pale, sweaty chest. “Didn’t think Noya would deliver so quickly. God, you look better in person.” I backed up until my spine hit the wall. Tears streamed down my face uncontrollably. “No… no please… please don’t touch me… please—” He didn’t care. he laughed. “After I’m done with you, there’s a whole line waiting outside.”he said. His hand shot out and grabbed my hair roughly. I groaned. “NO— PLEASE!!” He dragged me toward the bed. “STOP IT— SOMEONE PLEASE HELP ME!” I cried out. He threw me down on the mattress. My stomach flipped with fear.The man pulled his belt off with one hand, the other pinning me down. “Be a good girl now.” He smirked. “I paid a lot for you.” I was scared....this can't be happening! And then—BOOM!
The door exploded open with a violent crash, shattering into splinters. The man in front of me froze. I saw him. Gojo. Standing at the doorway. The man’s face went pale instantly. “G-Gojo— Satoru— I— I didn’t know— they said she was for sale, I-I didn’t—” he started babbling. Gojo pulled out his gun from his pocket and....Click. The man’s body collapsed to the floor, lifeless. The room went dead silent. Then he turned to me. He rushed to me, and hugged me. “I’m here, baby. You’re safe now.” he said. I sobbed into his chest, gripping his shirt like my life depended on it. I told him everything... Every single thing. I picked me up and carried me out. He Told his men to kill everyone outside and took me to his car.
Gojo's pov
I opened the door of my car and put her inside. I walked to the other side and went inside the car and started driving the car. My blood was boiling. I felt as if someone was tearing my skin apart. How fucking dare they?! I won't be able to breathe properly until I make them regret every single thing. Checked my phone my men sent me the location Toji and Noya are. I looked at y/n beside me. She was sleeping peacefully. I looked forward and turned the car towards the location. I'll make them suffer..... Especially Noya.
As I reached there. I went outside and locked the car. I walked towards the mansion. There's no men outside. How stupid of them. I walked inside. I know this mansion. I used to come here when we used to be dealing partners. I know damn well where Toji is right now. I walked towards the room and kicked the door open. Toji looked at me. "Hmmm.... Gojo Satoru it is" He said with a smirk. Then looked behind me. "No man? I'm surprised" He said. I walked towards him and grabbed him by his shirt and punched him in the face. He turned his head to look at me again and I punched him again. "HOW FUCKING DARE YOU, YOU HURT HER?!" I said.
"I see where's this going" Toji said and grabbed my shirt to throw me on the floor but I kicked his stomach before he could do that. He crashed on the table behind him. "You son of a bitch!" He said and walked towards me. He tried to punch me and I caught his hand and twisted it. "Does it hurt?.... Good because it'll hurt more" I said and then grabbed his hair and smacked his head on the table. The table broke. We both fell on the floor. His head started bleeding. Noya entered there. It took him a minute to process what was going on. Then he ran towards us. I punched Toji's face again.
Noya grabbed me trying to pull me away from Toji. I went up from there. I looked at noya. His face was making my blood boil. I grabbed his shirt and pushed him against the wall behind him. He chuckled. "All these for that cheap whore?" He said. I clenched my jaw and punched his face. Again and again. "Don't talk about her with your fucking filthy mouth" I said and threw him on the floor. "You know I always wanted her to be our family maid..... But couldn't do that... So... Thought to sell her as a whore.... She looks like one tho" He said. And that's it. Something snapped inside me.
I went down pressed my knee on his chest and started punching his face brutally. Blood started spilling from his nose and mouth. I'll kill him. I grabbed his jaw and throat to twist it. He grabbed my hand trying to stop me and mumbling something. Suddenly I felt an arm around my throat. I realized it was Toji from behind me. I groaned as he choked me. I still didn't let go of noya. I'll kill him no matter what happens. But Toji tightened his arms with more strength. My vision started blurring. I almost couldn't breathe anymore. I'm still trying to twist Noya's head. But I can't get enough strength to do that. My vision was about to go blank when.... *BANG*
Toji's arms loosened. His body fell on the floor. Someone shot him in the head. I gasped for breath. I could breathe again and can see properly again. I looked up to see who shot Toji. "Your welcome" He said with a smirk. Suguru. How did he get here? But before that I looked down. Noya looking at me with wide, scared eyes. I twisted his without thinking anything. Then I took out my gun from my pocket and shot him three times. "Woah....aggrasive" Suguru said. I signed, then laughed and went up and stood in front of him.
"How did you get here? " I asked. "Your men called me and told me you went to kill Toji and Noya all alone and you ordered them not to come and help you. I was like ok, so much of Gojo thing. Then they told me that it's for a girl. And I was shocked that you became a simp for someone... And I had to see it so I got the location from them and came here....and woah. I saved your ass" He replied. I chuckled "yeah... Thanks.... Whatever" I said. "So.... Who's she?" He asked. "Toji's daughter" I replied. "Toji had a daughter?" He asked as we walked towards our car. "Adopted daughter" I replied and we got inside my car. "I see" He replied. "She's lucky" He said. "No.... I'm lucky" I said looking at y/n who's still sleeping peacefully. Then I started the car. "Yeah.... Simp" Suguru said and we both laughed.

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#jjk#tw noncon#jjk smut#smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#fem reader#dark content#gojo satoru#jjk gojo#jujutsu gojo#gojo smut#gojo x reader#gojo somnophilia#gojou satoru x reader#jjk satoru#satoru gojo x reader#jujutsu satoru#gojo noncon#dark blog#dark writing#dark romance#possessive#obssesive#yandere smut#yandere jujutsu kaisen#yandere jjk#yandere gojo smut#yandere gojo#yandere#mafia gojo
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CHECKMATE (12/20)
Here I am again! Last chapter of the week, I promise!
Enjoy it <3
MINORS MUST NOT INTERACT
Warnings: +18, angst, tension, semi public sex and fingering.
Pairing: Governor! Agatha Harkness x Fem Reader



Summary: Agatha tries to win over young voters.
Knight
noun
1. a piece represented by a stylized horse's head. It moves in an "L" shape, two squares in one direction (either horizontally or vertically). Each player starts with two knights, and they are considered minor pieces, valued at three points.
One day until Monday.
Twenty-four hours until you walked into the office and saw the beautiful face of your insufferable boss. 1,440 minutes until you could talk to her after waking up beside her. 86,400 seconds to pretend none of it had ever happened.
Your head felt heavy on the pillow. Your mind crowded with memories of the two of you, her body and all the things she’d said.
Some of those words had warmed your heart; others had made you come and some had rejected you without mercy, without hesitation.
Over lunch, Natasha mentioned the possibility that Thanos had been murdered.
God… That meant Agatha would be investigated, right?
That would be disastrous for her image.
Her son. Nicholas, right? You didn’t know him, not really. Just a few pictures. But you knew what it was like to lose a father.
You had to warn her. Agatha needed to be ready. Call in legal. Talk to Jennifer. Prep the entire image team.
You needed to get to the office as early as possible.
And that’s exactly what you did.
Each step down the hallway echoed in your head like a metronome of nerves.
The words kept repeating in your mind like a half-rehearsed monologue.
“Sonya,” you called out, eyes locked on Agatha’s glass office door. “Is she in yet?”
The assistant, typing furiously, glanced up for barely a second before returning to her screen.
“She got in about ten minutes ago. She’s actually waiting for you.”
Your heart skipped.
You ran a hand through your hair, trying to look less like you were falling apart inside.
Then, feigning confidence, you stepped into the room.
Agatha stood by the window. The morning light traced the outline of her silhouette, and her shoulders were visibly tense.
When you entered, she turned to face you with that gaze that missed nothing.
In silence, she took two steps toward the door behind you and locked it with a sharp click.
The air grew heavier.
You were about to speak, to bring up Thanos. The way she had stirred things inside you no one else ever had. But then she turned back to her desk, opened a drawer, and held out a yellow envelope to you.
“Here." She said, avoiding eye contact.
You frowned.
“What is this?”
“It’s... a way to make sure you feel comfortable and safe.”
Her voice was calm, rehearsed. Cold. Colder than yelling.
You took the envelope and opened it slowly. The contents made your eyes go wide.
Money. A lot of it.
You didn’t bother to count, but you could swear there was at least $2,500 inside.
"You're paying me?"
Agatha sighed, crossing her arms.
"It's not payment, it's a gift. So you can keep studying. So you can have freedom, without any... complications."
You felt your face burn.
"A gift?" Your voice came out low, but sharp. "Is this so I keep pleasing you in bed? Or to keep my mouth shut out here?"
She narrowed her eyes, like she was holding something back inside her.
"You don’t understand. I’m trying to protect you and myself. I’m a public figure. A powerful woman. It’s campaign season and if this gets out…”
Oh, God…
Okay. Now you were pissed.
This wasn’t good at all
"So you'd rather pay me to pretend it never happened?"
Silence.
You gripped the envelope tightly. You wanted to throw it in her face. Tear it to pieces right in front of her.
For a moment, you even wanted to accept it and pretend nothing had happened.
Pretend you hadn’t felt anything. Pretend it was just wild, incredible sex. Pretend it didn’t hurt when she kicked you out the next morning.
"I… I'm not good at this," Agatha said, her eyes locked on yours now. "I just… I can't let this spiral out of control."
You gave a hollow smile, the kind you wore when everything hurt too much.
"Control, control, control. That’s all it is with you, isn’t it, Agatha?" You said, biting the inside of your cheek. "But it’s too late for that."
You placed the envelope on the desk with deliberate calm, like returning an unwanted gift.
She exhaled deeply, pinching the bridge of her nose.
"You don’t understand! Can’t you see I’m trying to protect my entire life?” she snapped, her voice rising. “You think it’s easy? That I can just fall into your arms and ignore everything I’ve built?”
Her eyes had a greener hue now, glistening like fresh water.
You looked at her.
And you could saw the broken woman that Agatha Harkness really was.
It hurt.
It hurt even more that, despite the way she was treating you, you still wanted to understand her.
To comfort her.
"I didn’t ask you to want me!" You shouted. "I didn’t ask for you to look at me like that, to touch me like that! And now that it’s happened... you try to buy my silence like I’m just another political mistake to manage?!"
She stepped back and stopped behind the desk, gripping the edge like it could somehow keep her upright.
"You’re being unfair."
Her voice was too soft, cracked.
"And you are a coward, Agatha Harkness."
You stared at each other.
Everything unsaid hanging between you like thunder in the air.
Until a knock at the door broke the spell.
Daniel stepped in, and you looked at him, desperate for the tension to break.
“Ladies! Everything’s ready. Barkley’s waiting for you both.”
Right.
Tacoma. The speech. The plan to win over the youth.
You still had a country to convince.
You nodded and walked out of the room, swallowing hard. You had to get your breath back before you could breathe the same air as her again.
[...]
The campaign committee was pure chaos, buzzing with electric energy. Posts with the hashtag #MotherHark were already going viral.
Quick-cut videos of her speaking to young people about politics were flooding TikTok and Instagram; impactful quotes captioned with modern typography, intercut with clips of her staring directly into the camera while the campaign slogan pulsed in purple and white:
"Politics is everything, and everything is politics."
You were sitting in one of the chairs in the conference room, waiting for the campaign bus to arrive, silently watching the latest video on your phone. In it, Agatha spoke with a steady voice:
"From the moment you choose what to wear, what to eat, or even which movie to watch, politics is there. Invisible, but always present. And it's time for you, young people, to start seeing it."
“They’re commenting like she’s some kind of communist MILF.” Sharon murmured from across the room, chuckling.
“She is a MILF.” Billy replied with a crooked grin, leaning on the production table.
You rolled your eyes.
You hated that term and the way it sexualized older women.
So typical of teen, clueless boys.
Jennifer walked in right on time, followed by Sonya and three interns holding clipboards.
She looked flawless wearing a charcoal turtleneck, tailored pants and a navy blue trench coat with a slight satin sheen.
Even at seven in the morning, she looked like she’d already had three coffees and absorbed the soul of a wartime general.
“Team,” she began, wasting no time. “We have thirty minutes before we head out to Tacoma. The school is prepped, the students are already in the auditorium, and the media crew left earlier to set up the cameras.”
She tapped a small stack of cards against the table.
“What I want from you: focus. No unnecessary improvising, no drama en route. We're going to show these teenagers that their opinions matter. I want them to feel like political agents and if they leave with only one idea in mind. They have power.”
You and a few others boarded the bus.
It was massive. The biggest tour bus you'd ever stepped into.
Agatha was sitting by the window.
Dark sunglasses, a tired expression.
That sculpted jawline. The same one that made you ache to trace it with your fingertips, was tense. She wore a purple T-shirt, and damn, that color looked perfect on her.
God…
You two had fought.
But all you wanted was to kneel in front of her and make her feel good, right there and then.
Hesitating, like someone jumping off a cliff, you sat down beside her.
Silence.
The bus began to move, a gentle rumble under your feet. Voices around you talked about equipment, schedules and image strategy.
But between the two of you, there was only silence.
“Thank you for not taking the money.” She said softly after a few minutes.
Her voice barely sounded like hers. It was quiet, almost human.
You kept your gaze forward, fixed on some imaginary point on the back of the seat in front of you.
“It wasn’t hard to refuse,” you replied. “What’s hard is forgetting that you thought I’d betray you.”
She turned her face slightly toward you, like she was about to say something. But she held back and looked back out the window, her fingers fidgeting with the diamond ring.
"If I had met you in another life," she murmured. "Maybe everything would’ve been different."
You turned now, facing her. The shadow cast by her hair, the sharp line of her lips. There was a kind of tiredness there. Not the kind that comes from a bad night’s sleep, but from a whole life.
Her words hit you differently. You hadn’t expected to hear that from her, and something sparked in your chest.
What did she think about when the lights were off and she was alone in her massive bed at night?
You had never wanted to find out so badly.
"If you had met me in another life," you echoed. "You would’ve done the same thing. Because this isn’t about me, it’s about what you don’t allow yourself to feel."
Her head turned slowly, like your words had a physical weight.
The sunglasses couldn’t hide everything. Since the tight curve of her brow, the subtle twitch in the corner of her mouth.
Agatha was trembling slightly or maybe that was just your desire for her to be.
"You’re too young to understand." She said. Not with anger, but with something more like quiet desperation.
"And you’re too old to keep hiding."
Her jaw clenched.
"Don’t say it like it’s that simple. It’s never occurred to me like that."
"What? The fact that you’re a lesbian?"
Agatha froze, like you'd touched something forbidden inside her.
"I’m not..." she tried, but the word felt too heavy in her mouth. "...that."
"Lesbian. Saying it won’t kill you, you know?" You said. "That’s what I’m talking about. Even if we had met in another life, you still wouldn’t let yourself feel it."
"I just like to keep a reserved image." She leaned back into the white leather seat like a sulky child.
"You can be reserved and still be comfortable with your sexuality at the same time." You said casually, rummaging through your bag for your earbuds.
She flailed her hands silently, and it made you want to laugh. It was funny how expressive she was when no one was watching.
"Excuse me?! I’m very comfortable with my sexuality!"
You couldn’t help it, you let out a little laugh.
"Oh, sure you are," you said, rolling your eyes with a teasing smirk tugging at your lips. "But let me tell you something..."
You leaned in just close enough to catch the ocean-color glint behind her sunglasses.
"No straight woman kisses the way you kiss. No straight woman fucks the way you fuck."
You whispered the words onto her warm lips.
Agatha let out a soft breath, her tongue slipping between her lips in an attempt to hold herself together.
You knew she wouldn’t make a move here, but still…
Watching her hesitate because of you?
Delicious.
Before she could reply, the bus came to a halt and one of the assistants stepped in.
"We’re here."
The school auditorium was full. Teenagers between 15 and 18 filled the rows of wooden chairs, buzzing with curiosity.
You stood near the exit with other team members, trying to focus.
Which was hard, because Agatha was wearing a purple jacket—the kind that made her look like she’d been on the varsity basketball team in high school—and you couldn’t help imagining it.
She looked younger, and hotter.
It was all part of the game, you knew that.
And Christ, you were feeling so stupid for falling for a political strategy you had written yourself.
Agatha walked up to the stage with no fuss and cleared her throat lightly into the mic.
"Good morning," she said, her voice carrying effortlessly. "I know. Ten-thirty in the morning already feels like punishment."
Soft laughter rippled through the room. She let the silence breathe, her timing impeccable.
"But I’m here today because... someone told me young people don’t care about politics."
She paused dramatically, raising an eyebrow.
"And I thought that was so ridiculous… I had to come check for myself."
More laughter now. Genuine and warm.
"I want to talk to you the same way I talk to my 17-year-old son, who’s convinced I’m the definition of boring. Spoiler: he’s absolutely right."
Even more laughter.
Suddenly, the auditorium felt like the audience at a stand-up comedy show.
"Come on, don’t be shy! I want to hear from you!"
A girl in the second row raised her hand. Agatha pointed at her with a nod of her chin.
"You. Name and question."
"Jade," the girl said. "Have you ever thought about quitting? I mean… being a politician seems kinda dangerous sometimes."
Agatha looked at her for a moment, as if really digesting the question.
The room went quiet.
"Every single day," she answered. Honest, razor-sharp. "But the secret is remembering why you started. And for me, it’s remembering who’s watching me."
She looked over the crowd. Her gaze landed on you for just a second.
It was quick, but enough to burn.
"My son. You. People who think the future’s screwed. My job is to prove it can be different, but it only works if you are part of it."
Another student raised his hand. A scrawny boy in an X-Men hoodie.
"Did you always want to be governor?"
"No," she said. "When I was young, I wanted to be a dancer. Eventually I found out you actually need talent for that."
Louder laughter this time.
"So I went with the more dramatic option, is true. Changing the world through action and speech. And honestly? Sometimes I think I should’ve risked Broadway instead."
A real laugh formed on her lips, and it was like she was born for that stage.
She leaned in slightly.
"But if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that you can be many things. I was a daughter. A wife. I became a mother. Today I’m a candidate, and tomorrow? Who knows... Maybe I’ll just want to be a good example for someone who hasn’t even been born yet."
You held your breath.
Because it wasn’t just the content, it was the tone. The quiet vulnerability. The way she allowed little cracks to show.
Just enough for you to fall in love with her.
Fuck…
You were so screwed.
When a shy student asked how to get involved in politics without knowing where to start, Agatha answered:
"You start like you start anything: by messing up. A lot. Getting into things you weren’t invited to. Yelling before you even know how to argue, but you learn. Because when you speak, someone listens. And one day, you look back and realize that the first time you raised your hand... changed everything."
Then she reached out her hand, symbolically, to the students.
"Raise your hands. Make noise. The world won’t give you space if you ask politely. So scream!"
And they did. The auditorium exploded with wild, living shouts, and the vibrations climbed up through your feet.
Her presence up there, it was so grounded, so human, so powerful and stirred everything inside you.
And worse: she knew it.
You saw how she looked every student in the eye. How she treated every question like a mission. The way she moved her hands. Always authoritative, but warm. That low tone of voice. The almost automatic gestures.
She was... everyone’s mother.
And for a moment, you wanted to be back in that hotel room.
You wanted to kneel between her legs and say it again, through tears and desire.
Mommy.
Your face burned.
You clutched your notebooks to your chest, trying to hold yourself together.
Jennifer appeared at your side, cutting through the electric current.
"She’s doing very well," she said in a neutral tone. "See that? That’s what I call winning."
You could only nod.
But the truth was, in that moment, you weren’t thinking about votes.
You were thinking about how much you wanted to rip off that purple jacket and call her Mommy again and again.
[...]
The bus buzzed with praise. Excited comments, laughter, applause. Jennifer could barely hide her excitement as she said, “That’s three major headlines right there.” Even poor Sonya smiled, and she never smiled.
But all you wanted was Agatha.
She climbed the bus steps slower this time. Her posture still upright, still in control. But her eyes even behind those dark sunglasses were searching.
For you.
She hesitated, walking to the back and sat beside you.
The same seat as earlier.
Your heart skipped.
"You were amazing." You said, trying to keep your voice steady.
"Thank you," she replied, still looking out the window. Then she turned her head slightly. "You were right, the younger audience is the key."
You nodded.
The silence that followed was both comforting and torturous. It cracked beneath the surface like static, like the whole world was waiting for something to happen.
Then Agatha discreetly reached out and took your hand.
Almost like an accidental brush, but your entire body lit up, because you knew nothing Agatha did was accidental.
"I think I’m tired," she said. Her voice low, intimate. "Really tired."
Her fingers began to stroke the back of your hand. Slowly, and almost absentmindedly.
But you knew better.
There was nothing absentminded about her. Every movement was calculated. Every touch whispered that it was anything but innocent.
Because Agatha was a control freak bitch.
"And you..." she continued, leaning in just a little. "Should make me feel good."
Your breath stuttered. You turned to face her, catching the shadowed gleam of her eyes behind her glasses.
And still, you felt her cutting through you.
"Yes," your voice came out as a needy whimper. "Anything."
You whispered, because that was all you could manage.
Fuck. You’d go to the ends of the earth if she asked. You’d give your soul to the cruelest devil and fight the strongest god if it meant pleasing her.
"Anything?" She repeated with a smirk, just a hint of irony. The corner of her mouth curling like a comma full of meaning.
She looked around the bus. Everyone was quiet, resting before the ride back to the office.
Then she leaned in, her shoulder brushing against yours.
"Unbutton your pants and spread your legs." She said. Her voice already hoarse, already pulsing.
Your heart slammed against your ribs as her words cut through the air between you, low enough that only you could hear them, but loud enough to make your body react instantly.
You hesitated for a second. Not out of fear, but because of the risk. Then, under Agatha’s watchful gaze, you slid your fingers down to the button of your pants, undoing it with an almost inaudible click.
She watched every movement. The sunglasses hid her eyes, but not the hunger in her expression.
When you spread your legs just enough, she let out a quiet sound of approval and then… with a casualness that could’ve fooled anyone into thinking she was just reaching for something in her pocket, she slipped her hand between your thighs.
The first touch was electric.
Her steady and controlled fingers found you already wet, and she inhaled sharply, like even she couldn’t quite believe what she was doing.
"You filthy little tease," she murmured, her lips grazing your ear as her fingers slid over you, exploring, gauging your response. "But you’re so damn pretty…"
You bit your lip hard to keep from moaning, your hips moving involuntarily against her hand, chasing more pressure.
Agatha smiled slowly, predatorily, then pressed her fingers firmly against your clit, making you choke on a wave of pleasure.
"Quiet," she ordered, voice like a ribbon of silk and steel. "Or everyone’s going to know you’re grinding into my hand like a needy little kitten in heat."
Blood rushed to your face, but you didn’t stop.
You couldn’t stop.
Your muscles were tight, your stomach coiled, every flick of her fingers dragging you closer to the edge.
She noticed—of course she did—and slowed her pace, fingers now circling torturously slow, watching every microexpression flicker across your face.
"You gonna come for me right here? In front of everyone?" she whispered, her lips brushing your temple. "Gonna be a good girl and stay quiet while I make you fall apart?"
You shook your head, desperate, but she already knew the answer.
"Mommy…"
"Oh. You really like that, don’t you, baby girl?"
Oh, fuck.
Your eyes rolled back under your lashes.
And then, she sped up.
Her fingers worked you with cruel precision, and you grabbed the seat hard, your knuckles white, your whole body trembling with raw tension.
"Please," you mouthed, voice gone, lips just forming the word. "Mommy."
She understood.
And with one final perfect circle right where you needed it most, she brought you to the brink… and stopped.
Her fingers pressed down firmly, holding you there—no movement—leaving you suspended in the abyss.
She watched your desperation, the corners of her mouth curling upward, before she began again.
Slower. More torturous.
"You make me ravenous," she confessed, her voice trembling, like she hated every syllable she had to admit. "No one’s ever… ever made me want to lose control like this."
Your pulse spiked at the crack in her voice.
She was unraveling.
You dared to touch her free hand, lacing your fingers with hers, and she gripped your hand tightly just like she needed an anchor.
"Not yet," she rasped. "You come when I say. Only when Mommy says."
When release finally came, it hit you like a jolt of lightning.
You arched, muscles clenching around her fingers, body shaking like a leaf and she covered your mouth with her palm, muffling your cries in a gesture that was both domination and protection.
"Shhh… quiet now," she breathed against your neck, licking the salty sweat there as she dragged out every wave of your pleasure. "All of this… all your filth… belongs to me."
When she finally withdrew, you were wrecked. Breath ragged, kegs weak, makeup totally smudged.
Agatha wiped her fingers slowly on your pants. Her eyes hidden, but her jaw tight with tension.
Two tears slid down your cheeks before you could stop them, and you smiled.
"Feeling better now, Governor?"
She swallowed hard and took a few deep breaths, trying to reel herself back in.
Then she looked at you, serious. Hard.
"Would you… want to continue this somewhere else?"
She whispered it like even she couldn’t believe she was saying it.
"Y-yes."
She shook her head and stood up, disappearing into the bathroom stall.
You let out a shaky breath, barely believing what had just happened.
And then, your special phone vibrated.
Wait for me at your dorm door. 10pm.
The rest of the afternoon passed in a blur.
You returned to the office on trembling legs, panties damp, head on fire.
Thankfully, no one seemed to notice.
Jennifer was talking about a press conference with local reporters next week, but your brain absorbed nothing. Only a silent, impatient countdown ticked at the back of your mind.
Five hours until your shift ended.
Then eight more until Agatha would show up at your dorm and take you… somewhere unknown.
But honestly?
Fuck it.
You wanted this.
You wanted her.
And you’d do anything.
So when the clock finally struck, you left the building like you were on fire.
You crossed campus with the afternoon warmth brushing your face.
You entered the dorm, dropped your backpack on the couch without a second thought, and went straight to the shower.
A cold one, of course.
Not because you wanted to, but because you had to.
The freezing water hit your skin like a jolt. You leaned against the shower tiles, breathing deeply.
That woman.
She made you come with an intensity you didn’t even know was possible, on that damn bus.
God… she made you come so fast and so well.
All you wanted now was to return the favor, but the water didn’t wash it away.
Her touch remained on your skin like embers, still burning.
You stepped out with wet hair dripping down your back. The towel dropped to the floor in a hurr, wearing nothing but the thinnest pair of shorts, you lay on your bed.
Your eyes stared at the ceiling, but your mind was miles away.
On her blue-green eyes. On the taste you could still feel on your lips. On the command and the plea.
Your hand slid down your damp stomach, a distracted caress that quickly turned to raw desire.
You tried to stop.
Tried to be good.
But the truth?
Agatha had branded her fingerprints into your body, and every fiber of you ached for more.
Your hand moved lower, trembling.
But just before your fingers could go any further, your phone buzzed again.
The special one.
You grabbed it quickly, heart pounding.
Agatha.
Behave.
You closed your eyes, bit your lip, and smiled, utterly defeated.
She knew.
That fall was wrong, elegant, and inevitable.
You tried to think of the campaign, your job, even Carol.
But you weren’t playing it safe.
You were playing to be tamed by the queen with iron hands.
~*~
See you on Thursday!!
@vyvvycg @rosekjsses @3liyuh @indentity0018 @beggingonmykneesforher @reginassecretlover @trying-to-do-good @imjustvibingsworld @mbxoxo @jazzyxqlz @eternallyconfuzed @ctrlaltedits @sheriffhaughtearp @lesbiansweet @i-luv-w1men @htinha157 @syssmin @wandasslut3000 @fuzzygiantlamphorse @imaginaryblogger01 @aboutcustardcreams @upsidedowndanvers @starbucks-06 @absolute-memegarbage @trinity2k @greyella @angel-kitten-babygirl-u-choose @whitelotus00 @dandelions4us @creaturesaphique @warpdrive-witch @sweetmidnights @dingdongthetail @mommy-mommy-mommy-hi @milfovers4 @jaylie-bee @holystrangersalad @chlondykebar @natashashill @harknessshi @whoreforolderfictionalwomen @ahintofchaos @lowlyjelly @xblinkx2 @rmaximoff @loveshineslikethesky
#agatha all along#wlw post#checkmate#agatha harkness x fem reader#agatha x reader#agatha harkness#domme mommy#mommy k!nk#lgbtq#lgbtqia#agatha harkness x reader#mommy knows best#dom mommy#bdsmkink#bdsmdominant#older woman younger girl
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February 2025 Fic Recommendations!!
a/n : 2nd fic recs for the year!! February had so many good reads oh my goodness. As always, please support the authors and any of their other works by reblogging, liking and sharing a comment!! :)
My goal for March is to definitely consume more Seventeen and Ateez fics :3
☆ - series ♡ - one-shot
Tomorrow x Together
♡Seven Minutes In Heaven | @yunverie
w.c. - 3.9k
pairing - txt x afab!reader
♡The Slow Surrender | @dawngyu
w.c. - 24k
pairing - chaebol husband choi beomgyu x wife chaebol fem!reader
synopsis -The fear that you’re losing something you never truly had. Your own ring, now too heavy in your palm. A ring that should have meant forever. Your deepest fear. Your husband.
♡flamingo pink, sunrise boulevard | @bamgyuuuri
w.c. - 10.5k
pairing - stranger!yeonjun x fashiondesigner!reader
☆Criminal Conscious | @beomiracles ~ongoing
w.c. - 34.2k+
pairing - criminal!beomgyu x detective!reader
synopsis - moving rapidly through your career as one of the leading female investigators, you never once encountered a case you couldn't crack. though you never expected for your past mistakes to come back and haunt you in the form of an ex lover, accused of murder.
☆this is what slow dancing feels like; pt1, pt2 | @pagelets ~completed
w.c. - 10.2k + 10.6k
pairing - taehyun x reader
synopsis - Kang Taehyun had always dreamed of becoming a ballet dancer, but his conservative father never allowed him. On his 20th birthday, his mother gifts him with a flight ticket to Paris so he can pursue his dream of joining the Académie Internationale de Danse. Getting into the academy is already a challenge. Surviving in it is even harder. In an attempt to be cast in his favorite ballet production, Taehyun decides to bet all his chips on a rigid, and experienced ballerina— you. On a journey of self growth, not only as a dancer but also as a person, can Taehyun count on you? Or will his big chance slip through his fingers?
♡Kiss Of Death | @beomiracles
w.c. - 3k
pairing - reaper/entity!taehyun x gn!reader (written with fem in mind)
synopsis -“Can you grant me one more wish?” You don’t expect him to oblige, you don’t expect anything at all, in fact you would have been content with even a small twitch of his brow. But the man doesn’t say anything, instead he merely watches you, an almost expectant look striking his features. You inhale, holding that last dying breath for a second before letting go. “Can you… Can you kiss me?”
♡For Lovers | @yeoningz
w.c. - 1.8k
pairing -kang taehyun x fem!reader
synopsis - you've never had to call out your safeword before, but during a rough punishment taehyun takes it too far. luckily, he's right there to pick up the pieces when you fall apart.
♡Just A Game? | @yunverie
w.c. - 9.5k
pairing - Elite Shooter! Choi Beomgyu x Elite Shooter! afab!reader
synopsis - a continuation of Beomgyu’s Seven Minutes In Heaven
♡A Slice of Temptation | @gyu-tori
w.c. - 5.6k
pairing - idol!taehyunx fem idol!reader
synopsis - What was supposed to be a fun, lighthearted filming for your idol segment quickly turns into something far more nerve-wracking when you're assigned to interview Taehyun for his birthday. But the real surprise comes after filming, when he invites you to his dorm to "celebrate properly." Alone. Tension lingers in the air, thick and undeniable, until he finally decides to break it—one taste of sweetness at a time.
♡checkmate! | @4nyangnyangz
w.c. - 4k
pairing - best friend!taehyun x fem reader
synopsis - it was supposed to be just a normal hangout for you and your best friend, Taehyun until the both of you decide to add a little twist to the game of chess that you were playing, uncovering hidden truths and removing a piece of clothing with each loss. the game leads to the both of you revealing unspoken desires and dealing with the suffocating tension between you. a certain turn of events causes the both of you to discover that your friendship may evolve beyond platonic boundaries.
♡Sweatshirt Snuggles | @sxmmerberries
w.c. - 783
pairing - yeonjun x reader
synopsis - cuddling with your boyfriend, yeonjun, wearing his favourite panda sweatshirt to chase away your fever
♡The Great Valentine Heist | @gyutori
w.c. - 5.2k
pairing - highschooler!beomgyu x fem!reader
synopsis - On Valentine’s Day, Beomgyu hatches a plan to steal a box of chocolates from your locker, sparked by a bit of jealousy. But as his scheme unravels in a whirlwind of chaotic mishaps, including a mix-up with the chocolates and a series of awkward excuses, he’s forced to come clean about his true intentions.
☆In Between the Lines | @frozenmxngo ~ongoing
w.c. - 38.2k
pairing - beomgyu x selective mutism fem!reader
synopsis - y/n, a university student with selective mutism, finding solace in solitude. when beomgyu, a curious music student, starts noticing her, their paths cross, and he learns to navigate her silence.
♡blue hydrangeas | @bamgyuuuri
w.c. - 29.7k
pairing - academicrival!taehyun x fem!reader
synopsis - in a world where soulmates are tied by "soulblooms," flowers that manifest on the hand when touched by fate’s match, you have spent your life with an empty wrist and a guarded heart. but when a fleeting touch with taehyun—a boy you find insufferably perfect—awakens a blue hydrangea on your grasp, everything you thought you knew about fate, connection, and him, turned on its head.
♡Rain Lilies | @dawngyu
w.c. - 20k
pairing - soulmate idol choi beomgyu x soulmate fem!reader
synopsis - Sitting at parties surrounded by lovers, a silent third wheel at movie nights, the friend holding the camera at weddings—your hands are always... alone in the spaces where others are full. Were you an error in the grand scheme? An anomaly? A glitch in the unforgiving script? Or maybe, he simply doesn’t really… exist. That’s how you ended up here, standing beside your korean-pop-obsessed friend who practically dragged you out and swore you’d love the show. It all became a blur when your eyes met his. He’s on stage, gripping the mic impossibly still, staring down back at you like he feels it too. He shouldn’t be real.
♡Red Poppies | @gyutori
w.c. - 14.2k
pairing - florist!hueningkai x fem!reader
synopsis - When soulmates are found in dreams, your nights remain empty—until someone with a broken bond helps you search. As dreams clear, unexpected feelings emerge. Are soulmates really just predestined, or can fate change mid-course?
♡Daffodils | @yunverie
w.c. - 22k
pairing - bestfriend!choi soobin x afab!reader
synopsis - In your world, soulmates were bonded through a twisted trial of love and flowers. It was pretty simple, once the bond is awakened, fate chooses one of them to bear the roots of the flowers in their chest, while the other bore the mark of the same flower on their skin. The flower tattoo blooms with colour when the soulmates accept their bond, and petals in the lungs recoil, fading away. Soobin loved you—so fiercely, so tenderly—that it rewrote the boundaries of his existence. You made flowers bloom within him, vibrant and alive, yet laced with quiet devastation. As the petals took root, slowly consuming him, he clung to the beauty of it all, for what is love if not the sweetest kind of ruin?
♡The Archive | @dawngyu
w.c. - 13k
pairing - choi soobin x reader
synopsis - "Here. Please read each clause carefully dear."
The papers were handed in your hands, making your heart pound, each beat a hammer striking painfully inside your ribs. Your fingers tremble against the pen, gripping it so tightly your knuckles ache, but the pressure doesn’t help you—nothing ever will. Your eyes trace the final lines, the words smudging under the sting in your eyes.
You have given extensive thought behind your decision and give "Brighter Days Inc." the exclusive permission to remove this person completely from your memory:
☐ Yes ☐ No
♡casual (pt1) & guilty (pt2) | @bamgyuuuri
w.c. - 1.7k + 8.6k
pairing - choi yeonjun x reader
synopsis - When the lines between being casual or something more blur, what was simple now aches, and every touch feels like a promise neither of you can keep. as you try to leave, his silent pull drags you closer, and you’re both left questioning if you can ever walk away.
☆Waltz of Words | @yunverie ~ongoing
w.c. - 17.6k
pairing - Nobleman!Chou Beomgyu x Noblewoman!Afab!Reader
synopsis - Your heart and mind seek him for reasons no words could describe—an irony not lost on you, a writer, a weaver of words. And yet, when it comes to him, even you fail to stitch together the language to explain his existence in your life.
♡The Terrible Half-Truths of the Undead King | @hyukascampfire
w.c. - 15.5k
pairing - reverent!yeonjun x human!fem!reader
synopsis - The undead walk among the living for one reason, and one reason only. The Kingdom of Aethera is no stranger to this certainty, not unused to a world of whispered tales come true, and certainly not to the strange and wicked. But, there are none more wicked than The King Undead. Leader of The Wild Hunt and answering to none other than himself, what are you to do when Yeonjun’s curiosity lands on you?
♡Bound By Blood And Vengeance | @luvsicktyun
w.c. - 30.1k
pairing - witch hunter!heeseung x witch!reader
synopsis - In the kingdom of Aethera, the shadows whisper tales of revenge, betrayal, and forbidden magic. A cunning witch with a flair for deception, has spent years honing her craft for one purpose: avenging her parents’ deaths at the hands of the King. Disguised as a visiting princess from a distant realm, She charms her way into the castle, weaving lies and illusions to mask her true intent—murdering the king. Her plan is flawless, or so she believes, until she crosses paths with Heeseung, the brooding captain of the royal guard. Tasked with protecting the "princess," Heeseung finds her insufferable, too sharp-tongued and confident for his liking. But as they’re forced to spend time together, her wit begins to spark something deeper in him, despite his better judgment.
♡The Siren's Call | @thetxtdevil
w.c. - 4k
pairing - Siren!Soobin x Human/Fish!Reader
synopsis- The siren couldn’t do it, he latched onto your body with different intensities. His instincts wanted his talons to tear your soft flesh until the sapphire water turned into a murky red. However, something in his chest scorched every time his grip on you tightened with harm. The siren couldn’t commit to his kill.
♡with wings of wax and thread | @biteyoubiteme
w.c. - 19.6k
pairing - angel!huening kai x demon!fem!reader
synopsis - In the kingdom of Aethera, an angel is pushed from the heavens. Wings torn and feathers spilling, he finds himself in the den of a demon who wishes to have never been found. Long having lived with your own fall from grace, wingless and bloody just as he is now, you help stitch back up what once was. Can nurtured understanding be crueler than nature?
♡Of Snow And Shattered Wings | @beomiracles
w.c. - 14.1k
pairing - dragon!taehyun x human!reader (f)
synopsis - Foolish girl. You should know better than to wander up the snowy and cold mountains all by yourself. Yet you march onward, not caring for the biting frost as you draw your coat tighter around yourself. The tales told by your old grandfather had been enough to fuel your curiosity, to push the bounds of danger as you sought to see the dragons for yourself. — Perhaps you got more than you bargained for when you suddenly stumble across the one everyone thought to be extinct; the ice dragon. ⸝⸝
Enhypen
♡No Doubt | @jakesimfromstatefarm
w.c. - 23.7k
pairing - jake x f!reader
synopsis - struggling to balance a world tour, endless responsibilities, and...well, the sting of getting dumped by his girlfriend, jake finds peace & comfort confiding in you—one of his closest friends. what begins as lighthearted late-night phone calls while he's away on tour deepens into something more, quickly pulling you both into uncharted emotional territory. as your connection with jake intensifies, so does your inner turmoil—torn between the comfort of your easy relationship with him and the terrifying possibility of falling for someone you're not even sure you can have in the first place. but jake? jake has absolutely no doubt of what he wants—and spoiler alert? it's you.
♡The Dollmaker | @jjunbug
w.c. - 14.8k
pairing - park sunghoon x fem!reader
synopsis - you were sunghoon’s muse, his flawless, perfect wife that he dresses in frilly dresses and makes sure you always looked like the idealized woman. that much was evident from all the dolls he made of you that sat proudly throughout your home. but, when sunghoon isn’t there, the dolls move and show you things that would otherwise be hidden in the shadows. one day, they show you something so frightening, something completely sinister that you force yourself to believe that it isn’t real. your beloved husband wouldn’t do something like that, would he? you weren’t so sure about your answer anymore.
♡Bubblegum | @babeyun
w.c. - 11.9k
pairing - college student!yang jungwon x fem!candy shop attendant!reader
synopsis - from raspberry sour belts to strawberry crème filled chocolates, you know jungwon like the back of your hand...when it comes to candy. he's far deeper than meets the eye.
♡The Only Gift That Matters | @gyutori
w.c. - 6.4k
pairing -Pairing: idol!jungwonx fem!reader
synopsis -After his final tour performance, Jungwon expects a simple celebration—until he walks in and finds you waiting for him. With the help of his meddling members, you’ve flown across the world to surprise him on his birthday, turning an ordinary night into one he’ll never forget.
♡Symphony Of Us | @heartsriki
w.c. - 4.6k+
pairing - Jay x fem!reader
synopsis - As music majors in college, You and Jay have always been seatmates in class—passing notes, sharing playlists, and teasing each other between lectures. But when you get paired for the annual Valentine’s Open Mic Night, your usual banter turns into long practice sessions, late-night coffee runs, and a song that sounds a little too much like a love confession.
♡Cookie Cutter | @luvsicktyun
w.c. - 2.8k
pairing - jungwon x fem!reader
synopsis - making valentines day cookies for the members with Jungwon
♡loving you is forever | @hoonieyun
w.c. - 16.5k
pairing - lee heeseung x reader
synopsis - after a one night stand leaves you with a lasting memory of the boy you left behind in the name of your daughter, heejin. you finally decide that it was time to move back home to south korea after living abroad for the last 5 years. reuniting with your old friends was everything you could've wished for as they welcomed you and your daughter; but you don't think you could ever prepare yourself to face the father of your child.
☆the truth untold; pt1, pt2 | @just-nc-tea ~completed
w.c. - 31k + 36.8k
pairing - hockeyplayer!Jake x fem!reader
synopsis - Jake’s world takes a nosedive when he gets a wedding invitation from his high school ex—the same ex who cheated on him—with your ex. Desperate to avoid showing up alone Jake ropes you into a fake relationship, just for the evening. Originally. But if you’re going to sell the lie, you have to make it convincing. That means dates, inside jokes, learning the little details about each other that real couples would know. By the time the wedding arrives, neither of you are sure where the act ends and the truth begins.
♡To Fly or To Fall | @gyu-tori
w.c. - 16.4k
pairing - highschooler!heeseung x fem!reader
synopsis - You were the perfect student, always silent and disciplined, blending into the background where no one can see the weight of your father's expectations or the silence of your mother. When you're paired with Heeseung, a carefree troublemaker who seems to notice everything about you, your world escape from the suffocating cage you've been living in. But when your defiance leads to consequences you never expected, you must face a choice: stay in the cage, or take a chance on freedom, even if it means risking everything.
♡The Marriage Law | @enhaflixer
w.c. - 20.5k
pairing - Park Jongseong x Reader
synopsis - A Marriage Law was the last thing you expected to dictate your future, let alone shackle you to Park Jongseong. A pureblood heir, painfully composed, infuriatingly good at everything, and—unfortunately—now your husband. What starts as reluctant cohabitation, filled with awkward silences and sharp words, slowly unravels into something neither of you can ignore. Stolen glances, fleeting touches, and the illusion of normalcy turn into a dangerous game neither of you meant to play. Is it all for show? Or has the line between pretend and real already disappeared? But love alone isn’t enough to erase the past—or the law that forced you together. As the Ministry looms over your every move, and whispers of rebellion grow louder, you and Jay must decide: fight the law, or fight for each other.
♡Raspberry Stains | @biteyoubiteme
w.c. - 18.5k
pairing - vampire!sunghoon x fem!reader
synopsis - left alone on the streets of your small village you are offered the opportunity to trade your life for only a small price to pay. You are given to vampire prince sunghoon who has not had a taste for blood for almost a lifetime. Not because he does not feel hunger but because he has not found the one that temps him.
♡harvest of purity | @fangel
w.c. -29k
pairing - sunghoon x reader
synopsis - in which an innocent, shy, and faithful sunghoon takes a summer job as a farmhand. he’s never indulged on his desires until the farmer’s daughter shows him a taste of sin. although riddled with guilt, he cannot deny or escape the new rousing feelings that impurify him. especially when she's set on ruining him every chance she gets.
♡where bluebells meet | @rumoonstruckyet
w.c. - 31.2k
pairing - rivaltofriend!jungwon x fem!reader
synopsis - for years, you’ve been on a constant stream of debates with student council president yang jungwon. and although you didn’t exactly hate him, you weren’t fond of him either—especially of your teachers’ decision to team you up for two projects—in your graduating year, of all times. so as you started working, why were your arguments now reduced to an air of awkwardness and...a blossoming friendship?
♡When Cameras Stop Rolling | @gyu-tori
w.c. - 21.1k
pairing - actor!sunghoon x aspiringdirector!reader
synopsis - When the cameras stop rolling, the world still watches. You’ve spent years behind the scenes, dreaming of the day you’ll call the shots. Then there’s Sunghoon—an untouchable star, distant yet impossibly captivating. To him, you’re just another face in the crowd—until tension sparks and walls crack. When love and ambition collide, will either of you risk it all?
Seventeen
♡The Xu Minghao Dilemma | @shuaflix
w.c. - 20.6k
pairing - xu minghao x fem!reader
synopsis - like most film students, you find yourself experiencing the worst creative block of your life when you're tasked to film a documentary for your final project. enter: your old childhood best friend turned stranger, xu minghao—an (incredibly handsome) ex-dancer and barista who just might be the spark of inspiration you need to make the best film of your academic career. on the flip side, minghao needs this film to win him the scholarship that lets him dance again. despite all, your circumstances don't stop your old, repressed feelings for minghao from resurfacing.
☆the one where the stranger you fake date turns out to be your childhood friend; pt1, pt2 | @bitchlessdino
w.c. - 12.5k + 29.5k
pairing - office manager!seungcheol x childhood friend!fem!reader
synopsis - In a world where relationships mattered just as much as money or status did, Seungcheol found himself wrapped up with a person from twenty years ago. He didn't know how you remembered him, and frankly he didn't know how he remembered you, but the way you've reentered his life, like a gust of wind, he didn't think he'll ever forget you now.
♡Cinnamon | @daechwitatamic
w.c. - 19k
pairing - mingyu x fem!reader (nicknamed Sunny), reader x male oc for a while
synopsis - You finally decide to try and move on after years of waiting for Mingyu to return your feelings. But when you start bringing your new boyfriend around more often, things with Mingyu get... difficult.
♡Fake It Til You Make It | @diamonddaze01
w.c. - 18k
pairing - boo seungkwan x f!reader
synopsis - You could honestly throttle Seokmin right now. Of all the half-baked, caffeine-fueled ideas he’s ever had, convincing the entire office that you and Seungkwan—your sworn nemesis and parking spot thief—are madly in love might just take the cake.
♡muddled hearts | @haologram
w.c. - 24k
pairing - bartender!xu minghao x fem!waitress!reader
synopsis - things take a turn for the better when you finally find a roommate to escape your incredibly overpriced apartment, but you don't expect to ruin the only relationship that matters to you in the process.
♡Fires of Faith | @jakedustry
w.c. - 29.2k
pairing - Wonwoo x reader
synopsis - You can’t put out fire with fire. But you can combine them, and watch the place burn down in front of your eyes. The demon king realized that when he watched his son dethrone him. He should have never sent him on the mission in the first place. If he hadn’t, he could have kept his son’s fire under control.
Ateez
☆mountebank chem | @jensthwa ~completed
w.c. - 64.5k
pairing - rich!yunho x afab!rich!reader.
synopsis - The first time you met Yunho, you knew he was going to be part of the biggest tragedy of your life: the loss of your freedom, of your free will. You didn't know why back then but what you did figure out is that you and Jeong Yunho were going to, eventually and very publicly, date each other at some point. Is that reason enough to hate his guts? Well, of course! Now, when the time comes to fulfill the prophecy, how the hell are you going to pull it off? And, most importantly, what do you need to do to not fall in love with him in the process?
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