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01zfan · 8 months

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argue with you | s. es

valedictorian!eunseok x debate team leader!reader | 6.6k words

a request that i really enjoyed writing.

contains: academic rivals, semi public shenanigans, hand stuff (f. and m. receiving.)

argue with you: one | two | three

you loved debate. you joined it because it was a mix of two things you loved in life, arguing with people and winning. you were grateful that you were able to get close with the people on the debate team too, finding kids your age with such interesting minds. you loved everyone on your debate team and they loved you, so it was no surprise when you were unanimously voted the leader of the debate team. life was perfect on the debate team.

until eunseok joined.

it was a normal day after school, following your friends as you walked in a group to the debate practice room.

“our sponsor said someone new is joining the team.” giselle said to your group.

“this late?” wonbin asked.

“technically the season has barely started. we are still prepping for tournaments.” yunjin said.

your crew was behind you as you opened the door to the debate room. you looked back at them, not expecting anyone to be in the room yet.

“yeah but still. unless he has previous knowledge about debate he will just drag the rest of us down.” you said.

the shocked expression on yunjin’s face told you everything you needed to know. eunseok sat at one of the tables, hearing everything you said about him.

you didn’t hate eunseok when he first joined. you actually felt pretty bad for making such a terrible first impression. eunseok was also projected to be the valedictorian, you could never bring yourself to hate someone who was so smart. you immediately apologized, saying you didn’t know he was in the room but he said nothing in response. eunseok being indifferent towards you was a first. many gravitated towards you or spoke about you in high regard. being liked came easily for you, so the fact that eunseok couldn’t be bothered irked you to no end.

you were surprised you had never crossed paths with eunseok before. you never had him in any of your classes despite both of you being enrolled in the same curriculum. you didn’t know him, your social circles didn’t collide either. he had joined the debate team late in the semester, wanting a final thing to put on his college applications. you thought it was ridiculous. he was already top of his class what more did he need?

because eunseok joined the debate team with such high markings he came with an attitude you didn’t like. he was careless, didn’t take notes and always debated in the affirmative. he was novice at best, always trying to take you on in policy debates. at first it was easy to crush him, pointing out his ad populum fallacies and taking advantage of his lack of knowledge. he had it coming, challenging the best debater on the team. he refused to study so you threw the book at him each time, winning your debates with ease. people on your team always watched the arguments. they were ooo’ing and ah’ing as you two fought it out.

you couldn’t help but get even more upset at eunseok remaining nonchalant through every debate. even if he got hit with a penalty or his argument was rebutted he’d let it wash off him like rain, shrugging his shoulders before moving to the next topic. you wanted to best him, you wanted to see him break a sweat.

to your disliking he quickly improved. it was unfair, someone so uninvolved with debate coming in and learning everything with ease. it wasn’t long before he had you struggling to counter his arguments. when he first argued with you in a negative it filled you with rage. how did he get so good? it didn’t help that he swayed the lay judges, his confidence when speaking made the average person who didn’t know about policies believe that eunseok had the answers. his attitude didn’t just win over the lay judges, but also your team. he won them over quickly, they thought he was charismatic and funny.

it wasn’t long until he was voted to be the co-leader of the team and your individual events turned to public forum debates with eunseok as your partner.

“looks like we are going to be getting real close.” eunseok said, looking at your names side by side on the competition sheet.

you scoffed and rolled your eyes. you believe the debate gods had it out for you. everyone else on debate said that you two were the dream team and your probability of winning was high. your probability to win alone was higher, and eunseok would just drag you down.

“just don’t get in my way, eunseok.” you said.

you looked up at the man with the most hate you could muster in your body. you almost felt bad when you saw sadness wash across his face, but it was quickly replaced with his same nonchalant expression. he shrugged his shoulders and put his hand on your tense ones. you got indignant from his touch but he smirked.

“we will do well.” eunseok said simply.

no matter how much you hated to admit it, you two did make a good team. his confidence and talent for public speaking combined with your arguments you two were unbeatable. it wasn’t long before you took your team to nationals for the first time in your school’s history. it was becoming harder and harder to hate eunseok. it turned into a mild disliking that formed because of a misunderstanding. you were determined to keep up appearances, rolling your eyes when he would be mentioned or when he’d put his arm on your shoulder and call you ‘partner’.

you started to think eunseok liked trying to piss you off. he would always be in your personal space, walking behind you through crowds of people, saying your name constantly, always having that teasing tone to his voice. he was also always stuck to you, following you everywhere especially at debate tournaments. he sat next to you on the bus, lifting up your headphones to talk to you directly in your ear.

“we’re here.” he said.

you snatched your headphones away from him and gave him your best glare. eunseok developed the nasty habit being annoying just to get a rise out of you. some of the only times you’d see him break the calm demeanor he had debating was when he’d smile after telling you a bad joke or stepping on the backs of your shoes. each time you rolled his eyes and he would place his hands on your shoulders. it seemed like his favorite place to be sometimes, shaking you lightly as you shrugged him off.

you get up from the front seat of the bus. your team progressively woke up from their naps. the drive was about an hour and a half. you saw your team yawn and stretch, looking for their things in the seat. you stretch too, turning around getting ready to read the itenerary and the list for debates today.

“everyone pay attention.” eunseok said from his seat beside you.

no one told eunseok to sit next to you on the bus. you assumed it became an unspoken rule, the leader and co-leader sitting side by side. you considered this to be a plus as well, just in case you wanted to go over anything with eunseok before the tournament. you two rarely spoke on the bus ride to competitions though. it would always be a surprisingly not awkward silence.

eunseok didn’t have to raise his voice to get everyone to listen to him. you envied that about him, his ability to command a room. all eyes are on you as you clear your throat.

“okay everyone. first and foremost, happy debate day.” you say smiling

“happy debate day!” everyone says back it back to you in unison.

everyone cheers and you look at the clipboard with the debate assignments.

“okay so for our IE’s we have giselle, yeji, and anton.”

eunseok watches you read off their names like a teacher doing roll call. giselle, yeji, and anton all give you a nod after hearing their name to show they heard you. eunseok watched as you went down the list of names on the paper, quickly scanning for to see who would be debating. eunseok lingered on your furrowed eyebrow for a split second before brushing a piece of hair out of his face.

“for our policy debates we have our freshmen duos eunchae bahiyyih and kyujin jiwoo. this is their first national competition ever.” you exclaim and so does the rest of the bus. everyone cheers for the four girls, sinking in their backseats giggling.

“it’s a busy day for all of us but if you can please sit in on their debate to silently cheer them on.” you emphasis silently to look at eunseok.

he shrugs his shoulders and the bus giggles. how was he supposed to know he wasn’t allowed to clap after a good argument?

“we have yunjin running as support so don’t be afraid to run your notes by her, especially our IE’s.” you say, pointing your hand towards yunjin.

yunjin raises her hand from her seat in the middle to show everyone where she is. you rack your mind trying to think what other operational things you can say. you tap tap the clipboard against your hand, trying to see if the sound can rattle your mind enough to remember other things.

“don’t be afraid to approach the senior members of the team if you need help. also please travel in pairs if you’re going to the restroom. lunch is at 12:30 in the cafeteria. we will also get our room assignments for the hotel tonight so please be don’t skip it. oh, and our sponsor and chaperones are here too, they just arrived a little earlier to set up. everyone has their numbers right?” you ask.

everyone on the bus gives you the affirmative. you set your clipboard down at your side, almost done with your piece.

“this is our first nationals our school has ever been to so lets have fun and let’s win.”

you say your final line expecting cheers. everyone on the bus smiles or looks at you expectantly waiting to say something.

you’re about to ask what’s wrong until you see eunchae’s hand in the back row seat raise. you look to her and you can see several people holding back laughs. you look to your side and see eunseok’s shameless toothy grin.

“eunchae what’s up?” you ask.

you hear little concealed laughs. eunchae does her best at hiding a smile from her face.

“who’s doing the public forum debate?” eunchae asks.

her four friends all laugh and you can feel your face getting hot. you clear your throat, trying to show you’re unbothered.

“oh. for our public forum debate it’s eunseok and i.” you say.

you don’t know why you sound bashful, or why eunseok looks down with a smile on his face. you try to say not funny but your voice is drowned out when the bus erupts in ooh la la’s and almost paradise’s. you hide behind your clipboard and eunseok takes the lead, standing up beside you.

“don’t worry about us. we got this win, right partner?” eunseok asks.

you shrug him off again as people file off the bus, taking their name badges from you. when it’s just you and eunseok left you nearly push him back down in the seat with the amount of force you put behind giving him his name tag. eunseok takes the tag silently and he moves backwards further into the bus so you can get off first.

“don’t feed into it, please.” you say.

your eyes are trained on the clipboard, rereading names and debate times over and over again. eunseok walks behind you closely, like a mother watching her child walk through a parking lot. he picks up his speed so he can stand beside you. eunseok contemplates something, his normal pace of walking falters for only a second. he then speeds past you, joining the rest of the team as they enter the school building. you follow behind them, confused as to why your heart dropped when eunseok didn’t try to crack a joke at your expense.

you watched him all day. your debate didn’t start until after lunch, so you served as a mentor for the other events happening before you. you gave the freshmen tips on what to say during a debate, knowing your arguments strengths and weaknesses to make your arguments more solid. they gathered in your information with open ears, running things they were going to say by you just to double check the validity of their arguments. you watched eunchae nod her head enthusiastically as she made notes in the margins of her clipboard.

when you were done talking to them, you could see those same people going to eunseok. you wondered what they were talking about, until you saw eunseok show them posture and how to give facial expressions to help sway the lay men. in the middle of eunseok showing bahiyyih how to calm her nerves he looked up and locked eyes with you. any other time you would’ve rolled your eyes at eunseok, continuing with whatever you were saying. but this time you found yourself being cut off mid-sentence, suddenly looking down with a smile on your face.

because of your free schedule, you were able to go to almost all of the events your team was involved in. it started with the freshmen girls, kyujin and jiwoo went first. they did well, taking your advice on the notes you gave them. you watched them give good rejection speeches to the policy proposed by the other team. you knew the kyujin and jiwoo would do well, they both had siblings who were involved in debate. so when they won it didn’t come as a surprise. you gave them a big thumbs up from the back of the room and the at the pair smiled at you. when you got up to congratulate them, you saw that eunseok was sitting in the front of the debate hall. he must have been there for the whole thing.

you don’t know why it surprised you. eunseok was only competing in one event like you were, so he had all day free too. it just seemed like it was out of his character to sit in and cheer for another team, especially since you had asked the debate team to stop by if they could. you don’t know if it surprised you more that eunseok was listening attentively or that he came to the back of the lecture hall and sat by you while they got ready for eunchae and bahiyyih’s debate.

“don’t be nervous. they got this,” eunseok said. “they have a good teacher.”

you turned to look at him but he wasn’t looking at you. eunseok’s eyes were trained on the stage while volunteers set up the tables for the next debate. you smile and lean back in the seat.

“you get it.” you say smugly.

you can practically hear eunseok roll his eyes at you. he laughs lightly and you smile too. you don’t know you smile, or why teasing eunseok makes you feel a little sheepish. you’re grateful that a few people come from your team and sit by the two of you. you can only watch the first half of the debate before you and eunseok have to leave for your public forum debate.

the team wishes you luck and you ask them to stay to cheer on eunchae and bahiyyih. they listen to you, saying they’ll join in the later half if possible. you nod and leave, eunseok following behind you closely. to exit the lecture hall you had to climb a few stairs. you tried to ignore eunseok’s presence behind you, his hand ghosting the small of your back ready to catch you if you fall.

“i got it.” you said.

your words didn’t have the usual bite they had. you sounded shy if anything. eunseok tsked behind you, his hand falling back slightly but still there.

“okay princess.” he says mockingly.

the nickname is what causes you to almost trip over the steps as you exit the hall.

the trek to the debate hall is a quiet one. the silence wasn’t awkward, sometimes you preferred that so you could collect your thoughts before a debate. eunseok was the opposite—usually the chatty type. eunseok would be talking about random things not even pertaining to the debate and he would be pestering you with questions. it did help sometimes, easing the stress you felt. but this competition was important, so you wanted to lock in and focus.

eunseok watched you pace back and forth in the hallway. you would occasionally mumble something to yourself, probably some talking point you wanted to drill into your mind. eunseok reviewed all his notes the night before and on the bus ride while you slept. looking at his notes the day before helped him more than your method. he enjoyed watching you, though. the way you walked back and forth with your furrowed eyebrows, practicing your expressions. it was like eunseok was able to get a peak into your inner thoughts and the way your mind worked. over the course of the preseason he was able to learn some of your ticks as well. he saw you take your bottom lip between two fingers, a telltale sign that. you were nervous.

eunseok cleared his throat, reminding you that he was there. you looked at him with a little bit of softness, waiting for him to say something. he loved when you looked at him with a little tenderness. eunseok would never admit he liked debating with you so much because in these moments he got to see you be a little bit vulnerable. the anxiety before a debate wore down your iron resolve just a little and eunseok basked in it.

“are you ready?” eunseok asked.

“i’m a little nervous. this determines if we advance in the season.” you said.

eunseok nodded his head knowingly. he didn’t want to make a big deal out of comforting you, afraid that if he was too comforting the soft look in your eyes would disappear.

“we got this. all preseason you crushed it.” eunseok said.

“could i have even done it without you?” you said.

eunseok was taken aback by your words. you were never the type to vocalizes insecurity, especially when it came to debate. eunseok couldn’t stop his hand from going to your shoulder. your eyes grew wide before you got ahold of your expression, trying to seem as calm as possible.

“you absolutely destroy everyone in the district in independent events. i’m sure they have you in public forum so you can have more variety on your resume.” eunseok said.

eunseok watched the lightbulb go off in your head.

“i had never considered that.” you said queitly.

eunseok shrugged and took his hand off your shoulder, despite his mind begging him to keep it there. he put his hands in his pockets to ball his fists up.

“we got this. you are super smart and knowledgable about the topic.” eunseok says, face feeling hot.

before you can thank him, the assistant moderator comes outside. she motions you two into the debate hall.

the debate goes by smoothly. eunseok is the best at delivering opening statements. his tone and body language helps accurately portray what you want the audience and laymen understand. his opening statements also give you time to collect your thoughts, calming any anxiety you may have. although you were opposed to sharing the debate floor with someone, eunseok really does help calm you down. you find yourself leaning on him during some parts of the debate, and it’s comforting to see him lean on you too. you both truly do make an excellent team, coming together for the common purpose of winning.

there’s some sort of tension that begins to build during the end of the debate. after refuting an inaccuracy in the opposing teams argument, you find yourself looking to eunseok so he can give you a look that says “good job”. you even let him challenge a claim and watching him proudly as he calls out a fallacy you would call him out for during practice. eunseok smiles each time you smile at him.

when you two are announced as winners eunseok pulls you into a hug. the relief from winning the first competition of the season has you hugging him back. when you two pull away it’s a little awkward. eunseok helps put the medal on your head and you helps him too.

you two leave the debate hall to your team waiting to congratulate you. they say they didn’t doubt you would win, and you smile at all of them. you smile extra hard at eunseok and the way he praises you in front of your whole team. you take a picture together, biting your medals like it’s made of real gold. you feel eunseok’s hand rest on the small of your back while taking the photo, and you let him wrap an arm. around you waist as you two hold up your pointer finger.

if anyone in your team noticed the tension they say nothing. but you can feel it growing between the two of you. you both sit at a table helping the rest of the team with their events before lunch when giselle comes up to you.

she asks for a spare clipboard, folders, and to bring the papers the printed from the copy machine. going into the storage room is something that only leaders of the team are allowed to do. it helps prevent overcrowding or people going into the storage room that aren’t supposed to. giselle also needs to go over everything with yunjin, running to grab supplies would just take away from her precious prep time.

“i’ll go with you,” eunseok says. “just in case you have trouble reaching something.”

in any other instance you would’ve given him your signature scowl and ignore him. you don’t know you laugh at the comment, no one at your table does. they look at you like you’ve grown an extra head, cracking a smile at one of eunseok’s terrible jokes. you get ahold of yourself and start walking away, letting him follow you.

eunseok follows behind you, reeling off the fact he made you laugh. the silence you two had was a little awkward now, and you silently curse yourself for laughing.

inside of the storage room is cramped to say the least. the archaic printer takes up a majority of the space, and an even older wooden table sits in front of it. you wait for the million papers giselle printed out in complete silence. eunseok’s height actually was useful, grabbing the folders and clipboard on the very top shelf.

“good job today.” eunseok says.

you look at him only for a split second before going back to looking at the papers come from the printer.

“you too, eunseok. you’re really good at pointing out fallacies now.” you say.

“well that’s all thanks to you.” eunseok says.

it’s so cramped in the storage room he hits something as he brings his hand to scratch the back of his neck. you smile and shake your head.

“no that’s all you. you’re a fast learner.” you say.

“only because you pushed me to be.” eunseok laughs. “i know you hate me for joining so late and you think i don’t care about debate but i worked really hard to be good at it because of you.”

eunseok doesn’t know why he’s rambling off at the mouth going crazy with praising you. he finally gets you to look at him from the printer though. you have that same soft look you had outside of the debate hall.

“i don’t hate you, eunseok.” you protest. “i thought you hated me because of what i said when you first joined.”

eunseok shakes his head and laughs a little

“i was never mad about that. i understood where you were coming from completely.”

the printer finishes its job while you and eunseok look at eachother. you can’t believe you spent this whole time thinking he hated you while it was all a misunderstanding. you feel embarrassed now, after all the times you were mean to him for no reason.

“i’m sorry.” you say sincerely.

“me too.” eunseok says back.

you two are silent and you go back to looking at the copy machine. eunseok clears his throat and you look at him. his expression had changed from a sorry one to a smirk. he leans against the large table and crosses his arms.

“you know, this whole time i thought you were being mean. but was it just flirting?” eunseok says.

you visibly stiffen at his comment. you turn to him wide eyed and in shock, eunseok looks at you with his mouth slightly open, proud of the reaction he’s able to pull from you.

“i don’t know what you’re talking about.” you say, still wide eyed.

eunseok slowly closes the space between the two of you. you suddenly are very aware of everything about him. the way he looks down at you. his hands, his mouth, his eyes. he’s so close to you it leaves nothing to imagination.

“it’s okay. do you know why i joined the debate team?” eunseok says.

he’s right in front of you now, and you can smell his cologne. you never realized how tall he was as he looked down at you. you shook your head, trying to find your voice. eunseok cocks an eyebrow and you clear your throat.

“for college applications?” you say meekly.

eunseok shakes his head.

“why would i need anything else on my college application?” eunseok asks.

“i don’t know.” you said.

“i actually joined because of this girl on the team i wanted to get to know better. so unfortunate i didn’t have a single class with her after all these years.” eunseok says.

you sit there and stare at eunseok. he just confessed to joining the team solely to get to know you better. now all the doting and teasing makes sense, but you still can’t believe it.

you’re in disbelief still when eunseok puts his hand underneath your chin to tip your head upwards. you are in disbelief when eunseok puts his lips on yours. you don’t know what comes over you when you pull at the sleeves of his sweatshirt. you suddenly can’t get enough of him, you want him all over you. you want to hear him praise you a million times over. you want to hear him call you a princess again. you stick your tongue into his mouth and he does the same to you.

both of your minds and bodies operate at a million miles a minute, focused solely on feeling everything. eunseok pulls you in closer, arching his body over yours. it feels like he’s going to swallow you whole the way he towers over your frame. you feel like your set on fire when eunseok’s hand goes to your ass and you jump up. he catches you with ease.

your body’s bump into almost every structure in the storage closet. you can feel your back press against the large printer and you can hear it being bumped into as eunseok turns you around. his hand leaves your body for only a second while he clears things off of the table. you hear clipboards, papers, and other office supplies hit the ground as eunseok sets you on top of the table gently.

eunseok pulls away from your lips. he looks at you and you look at him. for just a second it is completely silent in the storage room as you two stare at one another. you see out of the corner of your eye eunseok’s chest is heaving. you both give the other a chance to leave, a chance to profusely apologize for kissing. you stay on top of the table and look at eunseok’s pouting lips, hoping he gets the hint.

eunseok brings you in again with his hand underneath your chin leading you. it is softer than the first time, eunseok looking at your lips before they connect. he instantly deepens the kiss and you guys fight for a second trying to decide who gets to lead the other. you relinquish control to eunseok when you can feel him mess with the waistband of your pants. you let him undo the belt and the buttons. you do the same to him, using your shaking hands to pull down the zipper of his dress pants.

eunseok’s slacks drop to his ankles the same time he puts his hand underneath the waistband of your panties. eunseok uses his free hand to pull you closer to the edge of the table, for better access to you. eunseok wastes no time and you don’t either, not even bothering to pull down his boxers. you both put your hands to eachother at the same time, gasping into the kiss. eunseok pulls away from the kiss to look down at you. his mouth is still slightly open and so is yours, letting out long sighs as you guys slowly figure out what the other wants. eunseok teases your folds and you wrap your hands around his twitching dick. you both give one more look, this is your last chance to pull back from him. eunseok sticks a finger in you and you start slowly stroking him. eunseok looks away from you first, muttering a curse word as he puts his face in the crook of your neck. he presses his lips to your neck and suddenly you want him to leave a mark.

you turn your head to face his as you pick up the speed of your hand. everything is rushed and you want to go as far as you can before the severity of the situation hits you. eunseok must feel the same way because he puts another finger inside of you.

“you smell so good.” eunseok says.

he still stays in the crook of your neck and other hand has moved to your back. eunseok’s hand on your back alternates between moving up and down, pulling you closer to him, and grasping at your clothes like he can’t decide how he wants to hold you. you just let out a tiny sigh in response to him, scared to speak. if you say something it might snap eunseok out of whatever trance he’s in right now, and you are selfishly enjoying the way he bends his fingers inside of you.

“you’re so pretty.” eunseok says.

eunseok’s compliment was so quiet you truly don’t think you were meant to hear it. you convince yourself that he is just saying things in the heat of the moment. you don’t say anything back to eunseok, just pick up the pace of your hand.

you can hear the table shake and slightly give underneath your weight. the creaking sound of the table mixes with the sloppy sounds of eunseok’s fingers inside of you and the wet sound of you jerking eunseok. his precum makes the job easy, you can feel it coming from his tip and lubricating his shaft. his dick is thick and heavy in your hand. you stop the intrusive thought of wondering what his dick looks like inside of his boxers. you wonder if his dick is as hot as the sounds he’s trying to muffle in your neck. you never took him for the whiny type, his sighs and quiet moans coming out in a higher pitch. eunseok pulls himself away from your neck to look down between the two of you.

eunseok is enthralled by the sight. he has never seen anyone like you, he’s never felt anything like this. he would’ve never thought he’d be here, trying to coax pretty little moans from your throat using his fingers. he wants to show you how good he is at this, but the situation and the way you look at him makes his hands unsteady. he’s positive he’s missing your clit and failing to hit those spots deep inside of you. he wishes he could take your pants off to really get inside of you and to see it all. but for now eunseok settles for fighting against the fabric of your wet panties pressed to the back of his hand as he fingers you. when you bring your head into his chest and pick up the pace he becomes more confident, doing the same action over and over again until your quiet moans become more frequent. eunseok can’t hold back his smile when your free hand grips the bicep of the hand that’s inside of you, digging nails into his skin.

“keep going.” you say breathlessly.

eunseok doesn’t falter and seeing you experience pleasure heightens his own. he can feel himself getting harder in your hand.

“i’m close.” eunseok says.

“me too. please don’t stop.” you whine into his chest.

eunseok brings you even closer to the edge of the table and you clench around him. you’re so close that you prepare yourself to bury your head into his sweater vest so your moans can’t be heard outside.

“fuck. just like that.” eunseok says.

you keep up the pace of your hand. your nails dig deeper into eunseok’s skin. his hold on your lower back tighten.

you still have eunseok in your hand and he still has his fingers inside of you when the alarm on your phone goes off. the sudden blaring sound rips you both out of your reverie, and eunseok nearly jumps away from you.

you and eunseok stay like that for only a moment. something in the air of the storage room shifts almost immediately as you both start comprehending the situation. both of your eyes widen as you look up at him and he looks down at you.

eunseok suddenly pulls his fingers out of you and you take your hand out of his boxers. your shaking hands bring the zipper of your pants up, and you can hear eunseok fumble with his slacks as he brings them back up to his waist. he moves in such a rush that he stumbles backwards, bumping into the copy machine. in any other situation you would’ve been laughing at him for being so clumsy. but now you have a mission of getting out as soon as possible, your face heating up unbelievably fast.

when your pants are on you hop off the table and grab your phone to turn off the alarm. you see several messages and calls from people on the debate team asking where you are and congratulations on your win.

“i have to go now before lunch starts.” you say.

“yeah.” eunseok says.

“i’ll see you there.” you say after a long pause.

“yeah.” eunseok says.

neither of you look at the other as your faces get even hotter. eunseok messes with his belt over and over again. you dust off your pants and adjust your clothes a million times. the tension in the closest is thick, you think you may choke on it if you don’t leave soon. you focus on everything but eunseok. you’re sure you look disheveled but it is the least of your worries. you can pop into a bathroom before heading to lunch.

you leave eunseok in the storage closet alone without looking back. the whole way to the bathroom you are looking behind you, making sure no one saw you go in there.

eunseok doesn’t leave the storage room for another five minutes after you leave. the moment you closed the door behind you eunseok crouched down the floor trying to. figure out what the hell just happened. he was still throbbing in his pants and his fingers smelled like your heat. he was so incredibly confused and out of breath he had to spend time to regain his bearings. he set up his phone to fix his mussed hair and ruffled slacks. he cleans up the storage room too, grabbing the supplies giselle had asked for.

eunseok for some reason expected you to be outside of the storage room waiting for him. he swallowed what felt like a lump in his throat as he started making his way towards the cafeteria.

you try to eat the sandwiches brought to you by the chaperones but you are too focused on what situation you were in not even ten minutes ago. you could only manage to take a few bites before you realized you’re not hungry. you let the people at your table pick off of your food like vultures.

you don’t even dare to try and look at eunseok from across the room. after coming from the bathroom he was already there, he must have came straight there after leaving the storage room.

your hand is still sticky from him and every time you move you get the faintest smell of eunseok. you can feel his scent all over you, lingering and ominous like a storm cloud. you pray no one else can see how flustered you are.

after lunch is over the team still remains to get room assignments. you are so checked out mentally you don’t know what’s happening until you hear your group start protesting about the arrangement.

“why do they get their own rooms?” you hear eunchae ask.

“because they’re the captains and senior members of the team. also you guys signed up for these rooms.” the chaperone says.

you and eunseok are the only ones taking a solo room. something about an uneven number of boys and girls and it worked out in your favor. you need to be able to have a room to yourself so you can pace around and think about what happened in that storage room. you take your keycard and a spare just in case, sliding it in your wallet. everyone in your team floats to who their assigned with for tonight.

“we have few more debates for the day, but everyones schedule is clear for the independent events. let’s all support the three competing in that event.” you hear your sponsor say.

after eating, everyone in your teams throws away the trash and cleans the table, leaving the space cleaner than when you two arrived. you end up falling behind the rest of the group as they head towards the debate room. you’re double checking to make sure all the tables are clean and nothing was left behind when you see eunseok walking right towards you. you desperately try to look busy, wiping nonexistent crumbs off the tables. in your mind, if you don’t see eunseok he won’t see you. but he does see you, he always has.

eunseok comes up to you and you have no choice but to look at him. you get shy, focusing on the button up of his debate uniform. you are counting all the buttons on his shirt over and over again when you feel him slide something in the back pocket of your pants. you look up ti him with wide eyes, and his demeanor is calm.

“if you want to talk about what happened lights out is at 8:30. i’m in room 31.” eunseok says to you.

you don’t even get the chance to say anything to him. as soon as he’s done talking he’s gone, jogging to catch up with the rest of the debate team. you stand at the table frozen solid. when you reach to your back pocket you can feel the undeniable shape and feel of a plastic keycard.

it was going to be a long night.

#requestz #01zfan: eunseok #seriez: argue with you #riize smut #eunseok smut

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manifesto-of-a-femcel · 1 year

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Beautiful Movies All Girls Should Watch

A list of movies that touch on coming of age, romance and complex female emotions.

May (2002): A socially awkward veterinary assistant with a lazy eye and obsession with perfection descends into depravity after developing a crush on a boy with perfect hands.

Audition (1999): A widower takes an offer to screen girls at a special audition, arranged for him by a friend to find him a new wife. The one he fancies is not who she appears to be after all.

Helter Skelter (2012): Top star Lilico undergoes multiple cosmetic surgeries to her entire body. As her surgeries show side effect, Lilico makes the lives of those around her miserable as she tries to deal with her career and her personal problems.

Ginger Snaps (2000): Two death-obsessed sisters, outcasts in their suburban neighborhood, must deal with the tragic consequences when one of them is bitten by a deadly werewolf.

The Craft (1996): A newcomer to a Catholic prep high school falls in with a trio of outcast teenage girls who practice witchcraft, and they all soon conjure up various spells and curses against those who anger them.

Malèna (2000): Amidst the war climate, a teenage boy discovering himself becomes love-stricken by Malèna, a sensual woman living in a small, narrow-minded Italian town.

Perfect Blue (1997): A retired pop singer turned actress’ sense of reality is shaken when she is stalked by an obsessed fan and seemingly a ghost of her past.

Rosemary’s Baby (1968): A young couple trying for a baby moves into an aging, ornate apartment building on Central Park West, where they find themselves surrounded by peculiar neighbors.

The Virgin Suicides (1999): A group of male friends become obsessed with five mysterious sisters who are sheltered by their strict, religious parents in suburban Detroit in the mid 1970s.

Sucker Punch (2011): A young girl institutionalized by her abusive stepfather retreats to an alternative reality as a coping strategy and envisions a plan to help her escape.

Piggy (2022): An overweight teen is bullied by a clique of cool girls poolside while holidaying in her village. The long walk home will change the rest of her life.

The Love Witch (2016): A modern-day witch uses spells and magic to get men to fall in love with her, with deadly consequences.

Pearl (2022): In 1918, a young woman on the brink of madness pursues stardom in a desperate attempt to escape the drudgery, isolation and lovelessness of life on her parents' farm.

Girl, Interrupted (1999): Based on writer Susanna Kaysen's account of her 18-month stay at a mental hospital in the late 1960s.

Black Swan (2010): Nina is a talented but unstable ballerina on the verge of stardom. Pushed to the breaking point by her artistic director and a seductive rival, Nina's grip on reality slips, plunging her into a waking nightmare.

Gone Girl (2014): With his wife's disappearance having become the focus of an intense media circus, a man sees the spotlight turned on him when it's suspected that he may not be innocent.

Jennifer’s Body (2009): A newly-possessed high-school cheerleader turns into a succubus who specializes in killing her male classmates. Can her best friend put an end to the horror?

Bones And All (2022): Coming of age romance about two cannibals

In the Mood for Love (2000): Two neighbors form a strong bond after both suspect extramarital activities of their spouses. However, they agree to keep their bond platonic so as not to commit similar wrongs.

Brokeback Mountain (2005): Ennis and Jack are two shepherds who develop a sexual and emotional relationship. Their relationship becomes complicated when both of them get married to their respective girlfriends.

Call Me By Your Name (2017): In 1980s Italy, romance blossoms between a seventeen-year-old student and the older man hired as his father's research assistant.

Maurice (1986): Two English school chums find themselves falling in love at Cambridge. To regain his place in society, Clive gives up Maurice and marries. While staying with Clive and his wife, Maurice discovers romance in the arms of the gamekeeper Alec.

Y Tu Mamá También (2001): In Mexico, two teenage boys and an attractive older woman embark on a road trip and learn a thing or two about life, friendship, sex, and each other.

Caroline (2009): An adventurous 11-year-old girl finds another world that is a strangely idealized version of her frustrating home, but it has sinister secrets.

Corpse Bride (2005): When a shy groom practices his wedding vows in the inadvertent presence of a deceased young woman, she rises from the grave assuming he has married her.

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t-lostinworlds · 10 months

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Competitively Stupid | Steve Harrington

》 PAIRING: steve harrington x female!reader

》 TROPE/GENRE: rivals-ish (since childhood) to lovers, some angst; fluff

》 SUMMARY: It was stupid, jumping off a cliff just to prove that you were better than Steve fucking Harrington. But you were competitive. You were not losing to him. But you know what was stupider? For it to take a near-death situation for you both to confess what you truly feel for each other.

》 WARNINGS: canon divergent (everyone is alive & well & happy thanks), pet names (sweetheart, baby), shitty parents (on both sides), competitiveness on all accounts, r is basically a counterpart of steve during high school (cheerleading captain, queen of hawkins high, swim team captain, etc.), peer pressure-ish, some stupid decisions & stupider actions, very irresponsible cliff jumping (which doesn't end well), drowning, CPR, injuries, an emotional moment™, love confessions, and a happy, sappy ending.

》 WORD COUNT: 5.3k+

A/N: hi! okay, well, it's been a while since i posted a steve fic so i'm kinda nervous ngl. also, not me making it a habit to include swimmer!steve in all my fics from here on out. this was meant to be short & sweet to dust off the cobwebs but lol. super random. i saw a video of someone cliff-jumping & boom, the idea was born. also, not me using the first aid training i learned in college.

📍 BLOG NAVIGATION ✩ STEVE H. MASTERLIST ✩ MAIN MASTERLIST ✩

⊱ ─────.⋅♚ *｡･ﾟ.★. *｡･ﾟ✫*.

This was stupid.

Absolutely idiotic.

You genuinely have no idea why you were even doing this in the first place.

"There's no way you can do it."

Right.

That's why.

The taunting voice of Steve fucking Harrington was the reason why you were standing on the edge of a cliff, looking down at a thirty-foot drop into the dark ocean.

This was supposed to be a relaxing trip with your new found family.

"You know you don't have to listen to him, right?" Robin sighed, so completely over the fact that her two best friends who never got along no matter what she tried, somehow came to an agreement to not listen to her right now.

Not that you could blame her.

You and Steve had been rivals ever since you were kids.

It was what you had always known.

What with narcissistic parents who used their children as pawns to one up each other, you had been conditioned to see him as an enemy from the second you step foot into their home.

Your family was invited into the Harrington residence for dinner as a way of welcoming you to the neighborhood. You recently just moved in, so you didn't know anyone else yet. When you heard that the next-door neighbor had a son who was your age, you had been really excited to gain a new friend.

All that changed when your dad sat you down an hour before, prepping you about how the Harringtons were a respected family in the town, and that you needed to show them you weren't any less than them, if not show them you were better. He drilled it in your brain to be on your best behavior, to be the best and the perfect daughter.

It only got worse when you finally sat down at that dinner table.

The comparisons were endless.

"See, my daughter here is a wonderful gymnast, quite amazing for someone her age."

"How wonderful. Steven here has swimming lessons every weekend. His coach said he might end up in the Olympic team once he's of age."

"Splendid. How about his academics? I'm sure he can take inspiration from my daughter's exemplary grades."

"He's the top of his class. Maybe if they study together, your daughter would be able to catch up in time."

It was harsh, pitting two seven-year-olds against each other—impressionable kids who only wanted to make their mom and dad proud.

But neither your parents nor his truly gave a shit. All they cared about was becoming the best family in the street, if not the whole town.

The sad thing was, those dinners became a regular thing, held alternately between your house and his.

It always looked like a preparation for battle whenever your mom would pull out the finest china in her collection along with the cookbook she only ever used for special occasions.

It was in the guise of cordiality when it was, in fact, an excuse to show off, to make a competition out of everything, a moment to compare who did what best. Those dinners were like monthly scoreboards, tallying up the respective families' recent achievements—and that included yours and Steve's.

Nobody was surprised that the competitiveness stuck with you both.

And it only got worse during high school.

Whether that was something as mundane as winning the popularity contest when running different circles—even going as far as getting crowned the King and Queen of Hawkins High—down to academics and extracurriculars.

Captain of the basketball team. Captain of the cheerleading squad. Prom Queen. Prom King. MVP of the season. Brightest student of the year. Beer pong Queen. Kegstand King. Best summer camp counselor. Lifeguard of the month and it went on and on and on and on.

When he got co-captain for the men's swim team, you rubbed it in his face that you were the captain of the women's team. When you got second place at the science fair, he made sure to rub his first place medal right in your face. When you became president of the student council, you ordered him around to do extra work whenever the basketball team was required to help with community service.

It was a constant back and forth.

There was always a competition between you and Steve Harrington.

And sure, since you graduated, it became subdued. But it was still very much there. Vying on who was the coolest babysitter in your band of ragtags, even fighting to have the title of Robin Buckley's ultimate best friend.

This thing between you and Steve was deeply rooted. So there really wasn't much Robin could do apart from getting in between your frequent squabbles before you started actually killing each other.

In Robin's words, something drastic had to happen for you both to finally wake up and see that this rivalry between you both wasn't what it seemed to be on the surface.

You had no idea what she was even implying.

Now, on a little getaway on the nearest beach you could drive to, the competition started with a race on who could get there first. It wasn't even fair seeing that you weren't the one driving.

The group had split into two, some were in Eddie's van—along with everyone's belongings since he had ample space in the back—while the others were in Steve's Beemer. Since you and Steve couldn't be in the same room together without an argument ensuing, it was a unanimous decision to have you two separated. Nobody wanted to deal with that for hours on the road.

Not that you could blame them, either.

And sure, it was the kids who suggested the race, but with Steve's smug smirk and that arrogant wink he threw once you got into Eddie's passenger seat, you knew it was game on between you too.

Yet despite the metal head being a fast—albeit slightly reckless—driver, he somehow took his sweet goddamn time getting to your destination.

Only when your group arrived at the beach last, did he say something about Steve threatening him to be extra careful with driving because there's important cargo in his van—whatever the hell that meant.

You lost to Steve on that one, but you would argue it was rigged from the start.

The next was a supposed friendly bout on who could build the biggest sandcastle that didn't topple over after a few minutes.

It was boys versus girls with you and him being team leaders. The girls won, obviously and El never used her powers. It was fair and square since the other team mostly argued over everything they could think of and had no teamwork at all. You made sure to point that out to Steve as you watched their sandcastle crumble into ruins.

Another one was beach volleyball. Same leaders as before, but you get to pick the members of your teams this time. Steve made it his mission to pick the tallest of the bunch. Still, it wasn't the advantage he thought it was because it ended up being one point too close.

Your team would've won if Steve wasn't such a dramatic asshole.

It was truly an accident. When you spiked that ball, you were not aiming for his face. He simply thought it was a good idea to catch the ball with it. Besides, he was distracted, flirting with some random girl in a bikini who was passing by, right in the middle of the game.

How was it your fault that he wasn't paying attention?

He made sure to oversell his injury after that, curled up on the sand as the girl fussed over him. But you saw that smirk on his face. You would've hit him again—definitely not by accident this time—if you weren't busy arguing with Robin about the point deduction. She said it was only fair since you hit the ball when she hadn't blown her imaginary whistle yet.

You decided to let it go when Steve commented on you being a whiny sore loser.

Unfortunately, the competition was ending with who could make jumping off a cliff and into the ocean look the coolest—adults only, despite the groans of protest from the mischievous bunch.

Eddie offered to stay behind and watch the rascals. When teased, he simply said he didn't want to test Death today.

His comment didn't help your nerves.

Robin said she was only coming purely as a voice of reason. She'd been saying nonstop how it was a horribly stupid idea, that there really was no need to be doing this in the first place.

But Steve wasn't backing down, so you weren't going to either.

So once again, it was only you and him.

As it always had been.

He volunteered to go first, throwing in a comment about rushing back up the cliff's edge before you could take your turn because he wanted a front-row seat for when you'd chicken out.

It only made you want to do it more.

His dive was smooth, almost flawless, you admit. He even showed off with a little flip near the end. It didn't take long for him to swim back to the shore, either. His years of training as a swimmer were obviously paying off.

But you trained just as much if not more than he had.

The only difference was, adrenaline didn't fuel you as much as it did Steve. So instead of getting all powered up looking down at a cliff's edge like he was, you were terrified.

But who wouldn’t get scared looking down at harsh waves crashing against sharp and jagged rocks? There was no margin for error here because one wrong slip and you'd be dead.

Still, if Steve could do it, you could do it better.

You weren't about to lose to his stupid ass.

"I'm not listening to him," you argued back, taking in a shaky breath as you took a step.

"He's doing reverse psychology!" she squeaked. "So you doing it is still listening to him!"

"I'm fine, Robs, I can do it," you mumbled, a slight questioning lilt at the end of your sentence.

"Look, sweetheart, it's okay to admit defeat," Steve said, cocky voice with an even cockier smile as he crossed his toned arms against his bare chest. His hair was still damp, quick to climb back up so he could get his front-row seat as he promised.

But you weren't chickening out.

Never.

"I mean, it wouldn't be the first time you lost to me so, it shouldn't sting as much."

You ignored him.

Instead, you took another step, the tips of your toes now hanging over the edge.

You can do this. Wipe that smug smirk off his face. You got this.

"Listen, you don't have to do—"

"Shut it, Harrington," you growled.

With a deep breath, you closed your eyes, counting from three, two, one…

You jumped.

-:-:-:-:-:-:-

This was stupid.

Absolutely idiotic.

He shouldn't have pressured you like that.

The jump wasn't deadly, per se, but it also wasn't exactly deemed the safest, especially if you weren't an expert in any sort of way.

And he didn't want to say it out loud because if he did, he knew it would only push you to do it more just to prove him wrong.

But Steve could see how scared you were.

He was already dropping the act, voice laced with concern as he started telling you that he wasn't worth all of this, that he was stupid and that you were always going to be better than him.

But, obviously, you didn't listen.

You simply jumped.

You and your stupidly competitive ass.

"Damn it," he cursed under his breath, rushing to the edge of the cliff, tensely watching your falling figure disappear into the water with a splash.

"You two are complete idiots."

"Shut up," Steve gritted, never looking away from the water. Yet any annoyance was quickly overpowered by sheer worry as he scanned the deep blue for anything.

There was no sign of you.

"Like seriously! It's like I'm the only one with a brain cell here!"

"Come on, come on, come on," Steve mumbled, completely ignoring Robin when you still hadn't emerged to the surface. "Come on, Y/N, don't scare me like this."

"Uh, Steve?" Robin asked after a moment, carefully looking over the cliff before shooting him a worried glance. "You look anxious and you being anxious is making me nervous."

"She hasn't come up," he grumbled, glancing at his watch.

It was nearing a minute.

"Maybe you didn't see her?"

"I haven't taken my eyes off the water, Buckley," he gritted, too harsh and uncalled for since Robin didn't do anything wrong.

But he was panicking.

A minute and thirty seconds.

"Come on, sweetheart, you can do it. You're an amazing swimmer," he whispered encouragingly, hoping some sort of magic would let you hear him underwater all while saying it aloud for his own sanity.

Two minutes.

You could never hold your breath any longer than that.

Steve knew because he always won that competition.

And that was in a calm pool.

"Shit, shit, shit!" he cursed, gearing up to dive after you. "I don't think she's coming up!"

"Okay! Okay," Robin rushed, panicking. "Maybe she's already on the shore. We should go down now and see—"

Steve didn't listen.

He jumped right after you.

The biting cold was awakening.

Still, it was the absolute fear of losing you that was keeping him alert.

He ignored the sting of the salty ocean water in his eyes as he frantically searched for you, his heart beating hard and fast, struggling for oxygen all while fearing for your safety.

Steve didn't know which came first, relief or dread when finally found you, aimlessly floating and unconscious under the deep blue.

He swam to you as fast he could, securely hooking his arm under your shoulder and dragging you up to the surface.

Steve always knew that adrenaline can give you a random boost of strength when needed. He simply didn't expect that to be proven true when he was carrying your unresponsive body in his arms as he brought you to the shore.

He gently placed you on your back on the sand, cupping your face as he checked for any injuries.

You were so cold.

"Hey, hey, wake up," he begged, grabbing your shoulders to try and shake you awake.

Nothing.

"You didn't have to make the jump, you idiot. Why do you always want to prove me wrong," he scolded with no ounce of anger, only worry. He started tapping your cheek frantically. "Come on, wake up!"

Still no response.

"Dammit, Y/N, why'd you have to be so fucking stubborn," he scolded, his voice shaking in fear, his chest tightening as he pressed two fingers against your pulse point.

His own heart stopped when he couldn't feel yours.

And you weren't breathing.

Steve tried to keep himself calm. If he panicked now, he wouldn't be able to give you the aid that you direly need.

"Come on, Harrington. You know what to do. You trained for this," he mumbled to himself, getting into the proper position to give you CPR.

He gently cupped your forehead with his left hand, his other two fingers under your chin as he tilted your head up.

"You're going to be okay," he whispered, pinching your nose before slotting his lips against yours.

Breathing into your mouth, one, two, he watched your chest rise as it filled up with air, only for it to settle back down without coming back up again. He quickly kneeled straighter, locking his fingers together and placing the heel of his left hand in the middle of your chest, pushing down with enough pressure to try and get your heart to start again.

"One, two, three, four, come on, sweetheart, breathe for me," he mumbled, easily finding the right rhythm, his first aid training as a lifeguard coming back to him like it was second nature.

Still, he never wanted to use this skill in a real-life situation, much less use it on you.

It was the longest thirty counts in his life.

Check for a pulse. Check for breathing.

Still nothing.

"Goddammit, Y/N, come on!" he growled, blinking back the tears as he pressed his mouth against yours again.

Two rescue breaths.

Thirty chest compressions.

Steve repeated the cycle over and over. His eyes were stinging with unshed tears, his knees were burning as the rough sand dug deeper into his skin, and his arms were starting to get sore, tiredness slowly covering his aching muscles.

But he'd rather die first than give up on you now.

"Steve—"

"Call for help, Robin!" he ordered, not taking his eyes off you for even a second. When he didn't hear any movement, he yelled, "Don't just stand there! Go!"

He was going to apologize for being an asshole later. For now, he needed you to fucking breathe.

"Come on, come on, please," he begged, leaning back down to give you two more rescue breaths. "Breathe for me, baby, please."

Thirty chest compressions.

"Trying to prove me wrong when I've always been wrong, you idiot."

Five, six, seven—

"Sweetheart, come on," he choked back a sob. "Who's going to call me out when I'm being stupid, huh? You know Robin can't do it alone."

Twelve, thirteen, fourteen—

"And you're really going to leave me alone to watch our kids?"

Twenty, twenty-one, twenty-two—

"Y/N, baby, please, I can't live without you," he whimpered.

Twenty-seven, twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thir—

Steve felt his breath leave his lungs when you finally gasped for air.

He quickly turned you to your side, rubbing your back as you choked out all the ocean water that got into your system.

"There you go, you're okay," he whispered, whether to reassure you or himself, he didn't even know anymore. All he was focused on was making sure you were going to be okay.

"S-Stevie?" you coughed out the nickname that was only ever used by you.

It was the equivalent to his nickname for you—sweetheart.

Names that started out to annoy each other but the more often it was used as time passed, it only managed to grow into an endearment that held something warm underneath it. You both were quick to realize that the nicknames you had for each other weren't out of spite anymore.

Neither of you simply addressed it.

"Steady, sweetheart, I'm right here," he reassured, hurriedly getting into your line of sight to stop you from trying to turn around to face him. He gently cupped your cheek, offering you a soft smile when your gaze found him. "I'm not going anywhere."

You nodded as best as you could, your eyes clinging onto his brown ones only for them to screw shut when a shiver ran through your whole body.

"C-Cold," you stammered.

"I know, I know, come here," he said softly, guiding you to sit up before quickly settling behind you. He gently pulled you closer between his legs, his chest pressed against your back as he blanketed his body over yours, rubbing your arms to keep you as warm as possible.

You turned to face him slightly, burying your face into his neck only for you to wince at the slight movement. He quickly tried to steady you again, checking over you twice to look for any visible injury. But he couldn't find any.

"Tell me what hurts," he asked, pressing his lips against your cold forehead as he fully wrapped his arms around you.

"A-Ankle," you whimpered in pain, your grip on his waist tightening and God he hated that sound so much.

You must've rolled it when you jumped, and having landed on it when you reached the water, it definitely made it worse.

"It's okay, you're okay," he murmured, littering kisses against the side of your head to try and keep your mind off it. "Robin already called for help, they should be on their way, alright?"

You gave him a small nod, inching even closer to him, seeking as much warmth from him as possible. Your cold breath was tickling his skin but he didn’t care. Hell, you could be breathing fucking ice and he still wouldn’t give a shit.

As long as you were breathing.

"I need you to stay awake for me, okay?"

"I-I'll try," you whispered.

"First to fall asleep is the biggest loser," he mumbled, squeezing you slightly when he felt your eyes flutter close. "And you wouldn't want me to win this, babe, because I'll be a little shit about it."

"Not f-fair," you choked out a laugh.

"It's plenty fair," Steve chuckled tearfully, ignoring the sudden wetness on his cheeks. He hugged you tighter instead. "So stay awake or you'll lose to me. Again."

"Right there! They're right over there!"

Steve had never been so grateful to hear Robin's voice.

-:-:-:-:-:-:-

"So are you finally going to tell her?"

"Tell her what?" Steve questioned back, unable to take his eyes off of you, soundly sleeping in a hospital bed with your foot now wrapped in a cast.

The doctor had already checked everything and thankfully, there weren't any further injuries apart from your twisted ankle.

Now, all you needed was to rest and recover.

"That you've been in love with her this whole time."

Steve sighed, squeezing your hand before turning to look at his best friend.

"I'm not in love with her, Robs."

"Right," she scoffed, raising a knowing brow. "Because jumping off a cliff with zero hesitation so you could save her is totally normal behavior for someone you claim you hate."

"I never said I hated her," he argued, and it was true. He couldn't think of a single moment where he hated you.

"Yeah, well, you two definitely don't act like you like each other."

"Does she annoy and frustrate the shit out of me? Yes. But I never hated her," he admitted.

Steve didn't know what it was exactly, maybe it was his tiredness muddling his brain, maybe it was from everything that happened in the last couple of hours finally catching up to him, or maybe it was the overwhelming need to confess everything into the open before it was too late—and it almost had been. Either way, he found himself suddenly spewing out all the things that he always just kept to himself.

"She's also been the most constant person in my life, you know? Hell, we basically grew up together. I can't just not care about her," he continued, memories flooding his system before he could even stop it. "She's been so ingrained in my life, her and the cute dresses she wore at those stupid dinners our parents always dragged us to. Her and her stupid competitions whenever our babysitters would bring us to the park together. Her and that stupid dance she always did whenever she won at anything even if it was my expense—she always does this cute little wiggle whenever she won, and that never left her even as we got older," Steve chuckled at the thought.

"And fuck, don't even get me started with how similar our parents are. She's the only one who will always get me when it comes to that," he continued. "And yeah, we compete a lot, but there was no hatred between us. Maybe at the start but all that went away when we learned that whatever our parents were feeding us was bullshit—that they were bullshit.

"And fine, did I sometimes get so annoyed whenever she got a new boyfriend? Yeah. But only because she always had this bad habit of dating fucking assholes. I don't know where she got those dickheads from but every time I see a glimpse of her crying by her window at night I swear to fucking God I would've killed every single one of those assholes if she asked," he gritted, slumping down in his seat with a sigh.

"She deserves to be treated right, you know? She's already experiencing so much shit at home, she doesn't need any more of that anywhere else. Sure, she irritates me to no end but that doesn't mean she's not a sweet girl who always cried whenever some random pet commercial came on the TV during the holidays. Does her competitiveness drive me up the wall? Absolutely. But that doesn't mean I don't feel so fucking proud of her whenever she wins another medal or achieves another milestone. And yeah, I wonder about how she's doing, if she's taking care of herself, if she's getting enough sleep between her work and classes. But that's only because I worry, you know?

"And maybe I do think about her a lot but that doesn't mean I'm in love with…"

Steve blinked.

Well fuck.

"Wow," Robin marveled. "You're stupider than I thought."

"He hit his head as a kid, cut him some slack."

Steve paled at the sound of your voice, swiftly turning red at the thought that you probably heard all the things he said.

He turned to face you, groaning in annoyance when he saw the smug smile on your lips. "You've been awake this whole time?"

"I'll leave you two love birds alone," Robin sang, quickly slipping out of the hospital room and closing the door behind her.

"How much of that did you hear?" Steve asked, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Enough to say you're stupid," you hummed.

He rolled his eyes, leaning back in his seat with crossed arms. "I'm not the one who jumped off the cliff and almost died just to prove a fucking point."

"Yeah, well, I guess we're both stupid then," you snorted.

He shrugged. "I guess we are."

"Jesus, you don't have to act so tense. I mean, you've already given me a mouth-to-mouth, we've practically made out already," you scoffed playfully. "I honestly thought I'd die first before swapping spit with you yet here we are."

It was your attempt at alleviating the tension, to throw in a funny quip. But with everything still so fresh in his mind, Steve simply couldn't take it well.

"Don't fucking joke about that will you?" he snapped, rubbing a frustrated hand over his face.

The silence that followed only made the tension worse.

"I'm sorry," you whispered.

Steve immediately felt bad.

"No, no, no. You didn't do anything wrong, don't apologize," he sighed, meeting your eyes with an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have snapped. It's just—"

He stopped himself, chewing on his bottom as he looked everywhere but at you when he felt the tears well up again.

"Will you come here?"

Steve took a calming breath and did as you asked, moving his chair closer but didn't attempt anything else than that.

"Stevie," you called when he still wouldn't look at you.

Harshly wiping his eyes with the back of his hand, he lifted his head. You smiled at him sweetly, wiggling your fingers to get him to come even closer.

"You scared me back there," he croaked, taking your hand with a squeeze.

"I didn't mean to," you softly said, remorseful and apologetic even though you didn't have to be.

"I know," he murmured, pressing your warm palm against his cheek as he shot you a glare. "Just don't do that again."

"Promise," you giggled, stroking his cheek with your thumb.

Steve leaned closer into your touch. "How are you feeling?"

"Better, thanks to you," you hummed, brows furrowing in thought. "When Marcus got that black eye, you said it was because he was playing dirty on one of your games." You tilted your head knowingly. "That wasn't true, wasn't it?"

Steve shrugged. "He hurt you."

"It was a small bruise on the arm, Steve," you reasoned.

"He shouldn't be giving you a fucking bruise in the first place," he growled, the memory bringing back the same anger he felt when he first saw that bruise. The soft tapping of your finger against his cheek calmed him down. "Sorry."

"Did you lose on purpose to get him expelled?"

"What? No!" he scoffed, offended, rolling his eyes when you giggled. "I tried so fucking hard to win that fight, you know, for you."

"You've always been protective of me," you hummed, taking his hand and interlacing your fingers together.

"Don't think I didn't know it was you who dyed that poor girl's hair green that one year in middle school summer camp," he retaliated.

It was a sharp and piercing scream that woke up the whole camp that morning. Everyone rushed out of bed to see what was going on only to find a girl who once was blonde was now sporting bright green hair in the middle of the crowd, crying her eyes out.

Steve would've thought it was only some silly prank if he didn't know who the girl was. But he did. Because the day before he tried to ask her to be his girlfriend, only for her to turn him down in the most embarrassing and humiliating way possible.

It wasn't difficult for him to find out who the culprit was since he immediately noticed how you kept hiding your hands in your pockets for the next few days after the incident.

The counselors quickly found out that the little menace—whoever she was—decided to use permanent dye on the poor girl's hair instead of something washable.

Your green palms colored you oh so guilty.

"She called you pathetic and gross in front of everyone!" you argued, pouting. "You looked like you were about to cry and I hated it."

Steve's heart warmed at that, a smile on his face despite rolling his eyes. "I wasn't about to cry."

"Yeah well," you shrugged, eyes trained on your intertwined fingers, your thumb playing with his. "I'm the only one who's supposed to be mean to you."

"Hmm," he agreed, bringing the back of your hand to his lips. "I guess we've always been there for each other, huh?"

"I guess so," you giggled, cupping his cheek and tugging him closer.

He stood up from his seat, following your lead until he was pressing his forehead against yours.

"Thank you for saving my life, Steve," you whispered, eyes turning glossy as so many emotions covered your irises, the weight of what almost happened catching up with you.

"You don't have to thank me for that," he said sincerely, brushing the tip of his nose against yours. "I'd do it over and over again in a heartbeat."

You nodded, sniffling, "Still, thank you."

Steve wasn't able to argue some more when you all but kissed him.

The first time Steve felt your mouth on his was a horrible experience considering he was trying to keep you alive.

Now, everything was the complete opposite.

A kiss that was careful but sweet, a hint of nervousness and excitement all the same, completely unhurried yet burning with passion as his lips molded against yours.

But still, it felt like that first gasp of air—a finally.

"I'm in love with you, too, by the way," you murmured as you pulled away, your warm breath tickling his lips.

"Thanks for clarifying," he chuckled, eyes laced with adoration, unable to stop his smile from growing wider, warmer. "I couldn't figure that out from the kiss."

"I mean, you are kinda stupid," you teased.

"We're on that same boat, sweetheart," he chuckled. "I'm sure Robin would remind us about that every single day now."

"Unfortunately," you groaned playfully. "God, she gets annoying when she's right."

"Tell me about it," he hummed, brushing his lips against yours, moving away when you chased it.

You whined.

Steve didn't hesitate to dive back in.

✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ♛ *.

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childrenofcain-if · 1 month

Note

How would C react in a situation like this: There's a competition in school where C can finally show their superiority over MC, but as usual MC still gets the gold. The problem here is that C only gets a bronze. Someone else got the silver so it means that at during that time this fella is the closest one to MC and not them.

Please author give us angssst🤣😭

the lacroix heir had never tasted failure like this before, not in the way it gnawed at their insides like a bitter, unchewed pill.

the bronze medal hung around their neck, cold and heavy, an insult rather than an award. it clinked against their chest with each step they took down the deserted hallway, a mocking reminder of everything they weren’t.

C’s breath came in short, sharp bursts as they tried to swallow the sour lump in their throat. the walls of the prep school seemed to close in around them, the shadows stretching long and dark, like the ghost of their disappointment. their fingers twitched at their sides, itching to tear the offending medal from their neck, to fling it into the oblivion of a forgotten corner where it would rot along with their pride.

in their mind, C could still see you standing on the podium, that insufferable, calm smile on your face as if the gold was simply your due, as if you hadn’t even had to try. it wasn’t fair. it wasn’t right. you weren’t supposed to be so far ahead, so unattainable, so perfect in every way that mattered.

the silver medalist—a name they couldn’t even be bothered to remember—had stood between you and them on the podium, a tangible reminder of C’s failure, their inability to close the gap between them and their greatest rival.

C’s hands curled into fists, nails biting into their palms as they replayed the event in their mind. every move, every mistake, every second where they fell short. how had this happened? how had they let it slip through their fingers so badly?

as they walked down the hallway, each step echoed with their barely contained fury. they could hear the distant sounds of celebration, laughter, and applause—sounds that should have been theirs. but instead, they were alone, with nothing but the bitter taste of defeat and the knowledge that for once, they were further from you than someone else.

they couldn’t stand it. the thought that someone else had been closer to you, even in something as trivial as a science project competition, gnawed at them like a disease. C had always prided themself on being one of the best, on being the one who could keep up with you, push you, even if it meant pushing themselves past the breaking point.

but today, they’d failed. today, someone else had managed to stand between you and them. it felt like a betrayal—of themself, of the unspoken bond that had always driven them to be better, to be worthy of your attention.

the anger inside them was a living thing, curling around their ribs, squeezing until they couldn’t breathe. It whispered venomous thoughts in C’s ear, telling them that they weren’t enough, that they would never be enough, not for you, not for anyone. and worse than that, it told them you didn’t even care, that their defeat meant nothing to you, that you didn’t see them, not really, not in the way they wanted to be seen.

C stopped in front of the old, creaking door that led to the prep school’s trophy room—a room filled with dust and silence and memories of past victories that felt hollow now. they pushed it open, letting it swing shut behind them with a soft click. the darkness inside was a comfort, a blanket that wrapped around their broken pride and whispered that it was okay to let the mask slip, just this once.

with a strangled cry, they ripped the bronze medal from around their neck, hurling it across the room. it hit the wall with a dull thud before falling to the floor, where it lay like a discarded bandaid to the wound to their ego. C pressed the heels of their hands to their eyes, trying to push back the tears that threatened to spill over, trying to hold on to the last shreds of their crumbling dignity.

but it was no use. the tears came anyway, hot and searing, spilling down their cheeks in a flood of frustration and grief and something deeper, something they couldn’t name, couldn’t face. it was the loss of a dream, the shattering of an illusion they’d held on to for too long.

they sank to the floor, curling in on themself, arms wrapped around their knees as if they could hold themself together through sheer force of will. but even as they did, they knew the truth: it wasn’t just the medal that had broken C. it was you. it was always you. you, with your perfect smile and your effortless grace and the way you never even looked back to see if they were still following you and the silver medalist to the buffet table.

C wondered, bitterly, what you would think if you saw them now. would you pity them? would you laugh? or would you simply walk away, leaving them behind in this empty room, in this empty life of theirs, with nothing but the weight of their constant failure to keep them company?

C had always thought that being second to you was the worst thing in the world, but now they knew better. being third—being nothing at all—was so much worse.

---

the trophy room was tucked away in the farthest wing of the school, where the dust was thick and the air hung heavy with loneliness. the only people who’d usually visit were the janitors and the ones who were assigned to put a new trophy on the shelves.

you had wandered to the room by accident, seeking a quiet place to clear your mind after the hustle and bustle of the award ceremony. but as you stepped through the creaking door, you froze, your breath catching in your throat.

C was there, crumpled on the floor like a discarded piece of paper. their usual composure, the sharpness in their eyes, the way they always seemed to hold themself just out of reach—all of it was gone. instead, they were now raw, exposed, their shoulders shaking as silent sobs racked their body. the sight of them, so broken and vulnerable, sent a pang of something sharp through your chest.

they didn’t notice you at first. their face was buried in their hands, and their fingers dug into their temples as if trying to tear away the thoughts that tormented them. you had never seen them like this before, never imagined that the weight of always trying to be better, to surpass you, could break them this way.

“C,” you whispered, your voice barely audible in the stillness of the room. you didn’t know what you expected to happen—maybe for them to lash out, to throw your name back at you like a curse, to push you away like they always did. but instead, they just flinched, their entire body tensing as if the sound of your voice was a physical blow.

slowly, they lifted their head, and the sight of their tear-streaked face twisted something deep inside you. their pale green eyes, usually so sharp and arrogant, were red-rimmed and full of an emotion you had never seen in them before: a kind of despair that made your chest ache.

“what do you want?” their voice was hoarse, raspy, the words thick with emotion they couldn’t hide. “here to gloat about winning again?”

you took a step closer, your heart pounding in your chest. “i was just— i didn’t know you’d be here. i’m sorry.”

“sorry?” C lets out a bitter laugh, the sound hollow and brittle. “you’re sorry? you won, as always. what could you possibly have to be sorry for?”

the venom in their words stung, but it was the way their voice cracked at the end that made you want to reach out, to touch them, to do something to ease the pain you saw in them. but you didn’t know how, didn’t know if you even could. you had never seen eye to eye, always at odds, and now, standing here in the wreckage of their broken pride, you felt more like an intruder than anything else.

“it’s not about winning, C,” you said softly, your gaze locked on theirs. “it never was.”

“of course it wasn’t,” they spat, though there was no real anger in their voice, only exhaustion. “not for you. but for me… it’s all i’ve ever had.”

the words hung in the air between you, heavy and daunting. you could see the way they were struggling to keep it together, the way their hands shook as they wiped angrily at the tears on their cheeks, trying to regain some semblance of control. but the façade was gone, shattered by the weight of your presence and their own expectations.

you knelt down beside them, the cold marble floor pressing against your knees as you hesitated, unsure if you should reach out or give them space. the distance between you had always been insurmountable, but now it felt as though it was shrinking, leaving you both exposed in a way that neither of you were entirely comfortable with.

“C,” you began, the words coming out thick with emotion you didn’t quite understand. “you don’t have to do this alone.”

C’s expression crumpled at that, the anger fading into something more fragile, more painful. “i was supposed to beat you,” they whispered, their voice barely audible in the quiet room. “this was supposed to be my moment, and i couldn’t even do that. i couldn’t even come close.”

you felt a pang of guilt, a deep ache in your chest as you looked at them. “C, you’re not—”

“don’t,” they cut you off, shaking their head. “don’t tell me it doesn’t matter. don’t tell me i did my best, or that you’re proud of me, or any of that bullshit. it matters to me. it matters more than anything.”

“i wasn’t going to say that,” you replied, your tone is soft but firm. “i was going to say that i know how hard it is, being compared to someone else all the time. but, C, you’re not in third place to me. you’re not even in second. you’re…” you hesitated, searching for the right words. “the truth is that you’re the one i’m always looking out for. the one i can’t stop thinking about, no matter how many times we come face to face.”

C blinked, their eyes narrowing slightly as they didn’t quite believe you. “i don’t need your pity, star kid.”

“it’s not pity,” you said exasperatedly, shaking your head. “i’m saying it because it’s true. you push me, C. you make me want to be better, and i thought… i thought maybe i did the same for you.”

“you do,” C whispered, almost too quietly for you to hear. their gaze fell to the corner of the room, where their medal lay in a sad heap, and their shoulders slumped. “but it’s never enough, is it? i’m never enough.”

you reached out then, placing a tentative hand on their shoulder, feeling the tension there, the way they trembled under your touch.

“you’re more than enough,” you said, meaning every word of it. “you’re brilliant, and talented, and so much stronger than you give yourself credit for. not to mention a force to be reckoned with in chess.”

C laughed softly despite themself and looked at you, really looked at you, as if seeing you for the first time. the anger and shame in their eyes had dimmed, replaced by something softer, something that might have been hope.

“you really think that?” they asked, their voice small, almost childlike.

you smiled, a warm, genuine smile that reached your eyes and almost took C’s breath away. “yeah, i do. and one day, you’re going to see it too.”

C’s breath hitched, and for a moment, you thought they might cry again. instead they slumped forward, their head resting against your shoulder, the last of their ironclad defenses crumbling. it was as if all the fight had drained out of them, leaving them hollow and empty. their body trembled against yours, and you felt the wetness of their hot tears soaking into your shirt, each one a testament to the shame and pain they had tried to hide for so long.

you wrapped your arms around them, holding them close as they finally let themself get every emotion out. the anger, the jealousy, the desperation—it all poured out of them in a torrent of sobs that seemed to tear them apart from the inside. and all you could do was hold them, feeling helpless in the face of their grief, knowing that nothing you said could make this any better.

the rivalry between you had always been about more than just winning or losing. it was about the need to be seen, to be acknowledged, to be something more than just a reflection of each other’s ambition. and maybe, for the first time, you were starting to see C for who they really were—someone who had spent their whole life chasing a shadow, only to find that it had led them nowhere.

you held them tighter, wishing you could take away their pain, wishing you could’ve hugged the scared and bruised little kid from fifth grade. so you stayed, because that was all you could do now and somehow, to C, it felt like it was enough.

#this became too long 👁️👄👁️#sorry about that #interactive fiction #if: the ballad of the young gods #interactive novel #twine wip #interactive story #ro: c lacroix #ro scenarios

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bandgie · 1 year

Text

Ghost in the Night

Ghostface!Jeongin x fem!reader

AU 1 | AU 2

synopsis: Keep your doors locks, shut your windows, don't go outside after sundown. Rules were quickly put in place when a killer, known as 'Ghostface,' began terrorizing your city. You listened to all these rules until finals night, but still, there's no way in hell Ghostface could get to you. Right?

warnings: MDNI 18+, DUBCON/NONCON, breaking an entry, implied kidnapping, PIV, forced oral (m! receiving), face slapping, blood/murder, face fucking, slight pain during sex (no prep) crying/begging, cumming inside, degrading words (slut, bitch, etc), not proofread,

4.1k words shheesshhh

Another college student was found dead. Their throat slashed along with their stomach. The police found them in their apartment with the words 'COME FIND ME' smeared on the walls with blood. The story along made you queasy. This killer, who the town nicknamed Ghostface, has been on a spree for about two weeks now. It really happened out of the blue. One day, you're attending college parties, and the next, you're too scared to even shop for necessities.

Rumors began to speculate about who it could be. Many people thought it was the rival university, some thought it was the son of the dean who couldn't get into the school, most thought it was just a psycho. The question remained though, why did Ghostface only go after college students?

Your friends dropped out of college upon hearing the news. They urged you to do the same, but you were so close to graduating that you decided to push through. After all, most of the students attacked were sorority or frats, you weren't either of them. If you kept your head down, didn't attend the stupid parties students kept throwing because they liked the thrill, you would be fine.

So here you were, on the second floor of the library late at night. You're thankful your library had open hours until midnight, it was great for last minute studying. The librarian was very friendly, even offering to drive you home. "I hear about what's been happening," she tells you as she rubs her trails hands.

You shake your head, "Thank you for your concern. I really don't wanna waste your time, I'll be fine." She eyes you cautiously, as if hoping you'd second guess yourself and take her offer. When you don't, she sighs. "Fine, deary. You be safe out there." You nod your head and watch her descend back to her from post.

A few hours pass before you decide to head home, your brain fried from all the studying. You wave the librarian a goodbye and exit the doors, greeted with the moon and stars in the sky. Had there not been a killer loose, you would have loved to admire the view. It's a blood moon tonight, and you pray that it's a good omen.

While walking back to your dorm, you couldn't help but hear music blasting. You pass one of the frat dorms, watching as people passed out in the front lawns and other vomiting. You grimaced at the sight. How could they party like this when people were being brutally murdered? You ignored their hollers and whistles to continue on your path.

"Hey!" One of them shouts at you. You ignore it, walking faster to get to your safe place. "Hey! I'm calling you!" Still, you maintain your pace. If you keep walking fast enough, you'll be able to-

"Damn girl! I'm tryna talk to you," the guy had caught up to you. He held you by your upper arms stinking of booze. You turned to face him in an attempt to intimidate him, "I'm not interested." You try your best to sneer, but he only laughs. "Never said I wanted you to be. I was just gonna say you shouldn't be walking all alone." His ominous statement send chills down your spine.

"I appreciate you tryna be my hero, but like I said, I'm not interested." You sternness throws him off, and he quickly lets go of your arm. "Bitch," he mumbles, "I was just tryna help." You don't bother replying, quickly turning around to escape his presence. You can't trust anyone, you can't take your chances.

You make a sharp turn, hoping that you're out of his sight. It doesn't take long to hear the familiar steps behind you. Rather than ignoring him this time, you turn around quickly to confront him. "Didn't you fucking hear me? I said-" You stop yourself. You were fully excepting to see his drunk ass behind you, but instead your faced with nothing.

You shiver, whipping back around to scurry home. It was just the wind, you think. You can feel your heartbeat in your chest, feel the blood that pumps in your veins. No no no, calm down. You're fine. There's nothing here. Even while you try to relax your heartbeat, you start hearing the footsteps again.

Too scared to turn around, you run. Maybe there's nothing behind you at all. Maybe you're running like a manic only scaring yourself more. It doesn't matter though, you're filled with too much fear to think rationally.

Another turn, and you can see your dorm complex in the distance. You stop running as fast, convinced that you're just overreacting. You do keep a fast walk though, still unsure if you could really walk so carelessly. Your gaze is up in the sky, watching how the moon gets bigger and bigger.

The sky provides a good amount of light as you finally make your way to the front door as your house. You reach for your keys only to see that your front door is already open. Your eyebrows raise, unsure if your roommate just got home and forgot to close the door. You push it open, taking a peek. The lights are off and it's quiet. Perhaps they just forgot and went to sleep.

You walk in and flick on the light, setting your bag down. It's not until your eyes are better adjusted in the lighting that you see your roommate. She's hunched over, limp on the couch as if she was waiting for you. You gasp at her, jumping slightly.

"Oh my god!" You breathe. "Jesus Christ you scared the shit outta me." You take steps towards her waiting for her response. There is none. "Hey, girl you good?" You reach out to grasp her shoulder and the little contact makes her fall on the ground. It's then that you see the blood that pool on the couch, how easily her head lolls to the side.

You fall to the ground with her, flipping her around to see a giant slash across her neck. Her eyes are wide with fear, her mouth open as if she was screaming. You can't help but try to shake her despite it being in vain, tears falling down your face. You're so caught up in your mourning that you don't hear the footsteps that come towards you.

A shadow hovers over you, and you turn around to see the familiar descriptions you've seen in the news. A black cloak, gloved hands, a white mask with a permanent open mouth. You cry even harder upon the sight. A part of you doesn't think it's real, that it's all just a sick dream you're having. Even as the killer kneels down towards you to stare at your face, you pray it's just a nightmare.

"I had to come pretty quick, you were almost home," it speaks. You don't really register what he's saying. He straightens back up, "You know, I also killed that dude back there that grabbed you. Guys like that piss me off. They have no respect for personal space ya know what I mean?" Perhaps he said that as a joke, considering this man literally killed your roommate mere moments ago.

"Please," your voice is horse and thick with emotion. "I don't want-want to die." You start sobbing, bloody hands cradling your face in an attempt to comfort yourself. The masked man cocks his head to side, seemingly intrigued by your cries. "You think I'm gonna kill you?" He doesn't wait for an answer, yanking your head up by your hair. You whimper and nod, vision blurry with tears.

You try begging more, but all that comes out are garbles sentences and pathetic wails. Ghostface is rather enjoying the show, smiling behind his mask. "You've got a good crying face. Keep begging," his grip tightens on your hair. You do, and honestly he didn't even need to ask. In the midst of your sobs, you can feel the cold edge of something sharp against your throat. You feel it slowly dig into your neck, but not hard enough to break the skin.

The contact makes you freeze up, eyes wide with absolute terror. Ghostface literally moans at the sight. "Fuck, I love that look." He makes the knife dances around your neck, staring at how your pupils dilate. Pleasurable shivers travel his body, and he can feel the blood traveling to his cock. Killing you now would be a waste, he should at least have some fun first.

He removes the knife from your neck throws it across the room. You jump at the clattering noise, almost missing how he uses his now free hand to yank his pants down. On your knees, your face-to-dick with his half hard on. You almost throw up at the realization, eyes staring into the masks eyes pleading.

He shoves his crotch closer to your face, smearing his cock on your face. You keep your mouth closed, determined to keep your dignity intact. Ghostface doesn't like this, and pulls your hair back so hard you think you'll go bald. "You think this is a fucking game?" He forces you to look at him while he speaks. "You wanna end up like your bitch roommate? Huh?" You shake your head as you sob.

"That's what I fuckin' thought, get to work slut."

You don't think you can manage to even keep your mouth open with how violently your sobbing, but Ghostface doesn't wait for you to open up all the way. He quickly shoves his half hard in your mouth. You wrap your lips around it, trying your best not to gag. A part of you thinks about biting down on him, and he must see a glint in your eyes because he yanks your face off him.

The force of his pull makes you cry out, but he responds by slapping you hard across the face with his free hand. Pain surges in your face, and you can't help the continuous tears that fall. "If you fucking bite me, I'll make you choke on your own insides," he threatens. If it wasn't for the corpse of your roommate mere feet away, you would still believe him because of the look in his eye.

"I won't!" You speak through your cries. "I promise I promise just please don't hurt me." Ghostface smiles under his mask, giving your cheeks three more light slaps before shoving your face back on his cock. Determined to prove your life is worthy, you stick your tongue out to lick his underside. You can tell he surprised by the way his breath hitches.

You let your lips run over his length along with your tongue. Salvia quickly begins to pool in your mouth, and you spit on his dick. You carefully reach your hands up, scared that he might slap you again. You can tell he's watching with judgement as you grab the base of his cock with one of your hands. Your other one steads on your thigh as you let your mouth fall open.

Working in one fluid motion, you bob your head to the speed of your hand. His cock is smooth, save for the pulsating of his veins. He's completely hard now, and it's pretty difficult to get more than half his girth between your lips. Your hands become sticky with precum and spit. You can feel how your drool dibbles down your cheeks as you continue to take him in your mouth.

Now there's two hands in your hair, and he's started pull you closer and closer to him. A particular thrust of his hips has you gagging, nearly coughing his cock out. He doesn't let you pull him out, instead forcing you to keep a couple inches in. You're making noises that both sound like moaning and suffocating, and it turns him on a lot more than he'd like to admit.

Watching you try your best to suck his cock like your life depends on it makes him feel alive because, well, your life does depend on it. You doe eyes wide with fear and concentration amuses him, makes him feel almost bad for the fact that he's still going to kill you when you're done. Not to mention your lips, how swollen and red they are from pleasuring him.

A part of him wishes he could take his mask off, make you look him in the eyes rather than his mask. The clear view could possible make him cum quickly in your mouth. Instead, Ghostface makes do with your current state. You're dripping in him and your own liquids, hands feverishly moving easily in the slobber.

All you and him can hear are your choked sobs, wet sucking, and the occasional movement of his hips hitting your face. To both of your shock, you find yourself getting aroused by his cock in your mouth. The fear in your stomach slowly begins to bubble into desire. Your panties getting slightly damp. You can't stop yourself as you clench you thighs together to get some friction.

You try to convince yourself that it's normal to get like this in a life or death situation. There's been cases of people's brain getting so scared that it gets sexually stimulated. You pray that this is the case now because you're starting to think how pretty this man's moans is. He sounds breathy, needy, desperate. Like he hasn't gotten much action in a while, or at least not to this extent.

A self-defense mechanism, you try to tell yourself as your pussy begins to seep through your underwear.

Ghostface suddenly thrusts his hips into your face, his cock hitting your throat deep. You throat contracts around him, and the pressure has him pulsing. You think you might suffocate with how he just keep shoving his dick into your mouth without caring how you claw at his thighs. Then he moans, almost sings his groans as he shoots his cum down your throat.

If you thought you were suffocating then, you must be dying now. His hot cum chokes you and slightly trickles down your chin. Your wide eyes have now rolled to the back of your head, and your chest began burning from lack of oxygen. Perhaps this is how you go out, dead by dick.

Just before you can feel yourself lose consciousness, he pulls away. You gasp and cough for air, hands grabbing your throat. Ghostface takes a few steps back as if he was surprised by his own orgasm. You heave, lungs burning from the intake of fresh air. Before you have the chance to fully recover, he pulls you up by the back of you head and harshly throws you on the couch. You hate how your shirt begins to grow damp with your roommate's blood, but you try to persuade yourself that it's just sweat.

Ghostface is between your legs in a matter of seconds, lifting up your skirt to expose your underwear.

You're still trying to catch your breath as your hands aimlessly attempt to push him off. You hear him snicker, gripping your thighs tightly to pull them apart. He sighs dreamily, "You're so wet baby. I can't tell if you're that turned on from sucking my cock or if you're so scared you pissed yourself."

Shame overtakes you, and you fight even harder to push him away. He only laughs at your attempts, releasing you for just a second to wrap his hands around his throat. Your finger try to pry him off, but all he does it squeeze harder. You can feel your face turning read, the familiar sensation of suffocating returning.

"I thought you would have learned to be nicer to me by now," he tsks. "Be a good girl and let me fuck you. I would rather like to fuck this pussy warm and alive." You can't verbally answer him since he's crushing your windpipe, so you meekly nod. He released your throat just before your vision went fully dark.

His gloves hands trail over your body, cupping at your breasts before continuing on their way down. You're scared that moving would make you faint, so you stay still as he explores your body. You can feel the warmth of his hands through the latex. How strong his fingers are as they reopen your legs. He rubs a thumb on your clothed pussy, keeping on hand on your abdomen.

Then, he does something even he knows he shouldn't do; Takes off his mask. If you weren't so oxygen-deprived, you could probably see his clearly. All you can make out is his dark hair, thick eyebrows, full lips. His specific features are a little hazy, but you can see enough to know that despite your better judgment, he's not bad looking at all.

He throws the mask onto your face, blocking your vision. "Don't take it off," he commands. "Take that mask off and I'll rip your throat out with my hands." You nod as shivers run down your body, "I won't." Those are all the words he needs to heat before moving your under to the side. The sight of your aroused clit has his breath caught in his throat, he's never seen anything as beautiful.

"Oh baby," he practically moans. His fingers feel a little uncomfortable as he plays with your lower lips, but it's not painful. He smears your wetness all over your pussy and thighs. Ghostface is amazed at how much your pussy was drooling for him. Maybe you're sick too, just like him.

Your cunt feels cold when he withdraws his hand from you, and your body reactively chases his touch. You hate how you hear him chuckle at your actions. He takes his finger and shoves it into his mouth, curious about your taste. You can't see too clear, but from the way his eyebrows go up, he likes what he ate.

"I'd kill to eat your pussy," he compliments. "Don't have the time to though, maybe next time."

No prep, no lube, just this man precisely angling his cock to your soppy entrance. You're whimpering quietly, little sounds as if to say please don't when it only entices him more. He lets out a soft groan when his tip enters your soft walls. You try to close your legs, but now with two hands gripping the back of your thighs, you really don't have a choice.

He pushes in, and you use both your hand to cover your mouth. He has more length than girth, so it feels never ending as he slides in. It's slightly painful at first, but you find yourself feeling satisfying full. Your assaulter can't fit himself all the way since you're too tight, but it's enough for him to rock his hips.

There's no warm up to his strokes, and your thrown in forced pleasure all too quickly. The feeling of his sliding in and out, how he manages to get deeper and deeper each time, the bruising grip on your thighs. Now you're covering your mouth to suppress your moans rather than cries. Even though, he can still hear how you squeak and groan as he pounds into you.

He watches as your breasts bounce from underneath your shirt, the way your body completely shifts every time he thrusts into you. You can say you want him to stop all you want, but he can feel how inviting your pussy has gotten. Almost begging in to stay inside, to pump you full of his cum.

Now he meets you at the hilt, his pelvis slapping against your ass. It's getting hard to breath under his mesh mask, but you don't dare to take it off. You should be ashamed with how you look up at him, practically admiring his expressions and how he groans. From what you can see, his mouth is fallen open as he moans carelessly. Like he didn't just make you take his cock, like he didn't just kill your roommate without remorse.

The pain is completely gone, and you find yourself wondering how you could have been in pain to begin with. He's so good with his cock, like he knows where in your cunt you like it. His hands stay at your thighs, but you wish he could use his gloves fingers to rub your clit. You might've been gripping his by his broad shoulders if you weren't too busy quieting yourself.

Even without the stimulation on your lower lips, you can feel your stomach tightening. The warm orgasm slowly collecting in your abdomen. You let your legs fall open even more, eager for him to drive deeper into you. He accepts happily, laughing maniacally. "God fuck, I knew you were a fucking slut. Putting your nose in a book, acting like a good little girl when you're just as sick as me."

'W-What?" You can't stop from questioning him. Has he been watching you this whole time?

You don't think he's going to answer you with how hard he's driving his hips into you, but he does. "The library. You- ngh fuck!- rather be a fucking loser than party. That scared of me huh?" He cackles. "So scared that you take my fat cock." He stops talking for a few beats to focus on fucking you.

"Aw shit, I'm gonna cum inside you." A statement, not a request. His thrusts become sloppy, aggressive. You cam feel his tip in your throat with how deep he is, and you lose your composure. One of your hands whisk down to rub your aching clit. The movement startles him for a second, but then he smiles once he realizes.

You're despicable. You should feel huge amounts of disgrace as you finish on his cock, but you don't. Instead you feel bliss with your walls squeezing around him. The sudden pressure of your pussy makes him whimper, then cum right after. He's so warm, so lively that you forget that he's a serial killer.

He gives you a few more deep strokes to ride out his high, making you tremble. Your legs shake as he slowly pulls out, but his grip on your legs in firm. He watches as his and your cum oozes out, like blood from a gash. He moans at the sight, feeling his softening cock twitch.

You're breathing heavily under him, still whimpering from the aftershocks. The post nut has not hit yet, and you're tying to relish in his body warmth. If you close your eyes, you can imagine that he's just a hook up. You can tell yourself that you'll get Plan B after this, that you'll take a shower and go to sleep. And when you wake up in the morning, it'll be like nothing happened.

That's not true though, and your fantasy is quickly shut down when his hands wrap around your neck. You gasp at the feeling, your weak hands clawing at his wrists. You both know your fighting is in vain, he was going to kill you regardless of what you did. Tears spring your eyes as you come to terms with your fate. So much for graduating on time.

Maybe it's your tears that have an effect on time. Maybe it's the fact that your pussy is still dripping with him, but Ghostface is having a change of heart. He uses one hand to rip the mask off your face to look into your eyes. It's his favorite part when taking someone's life. Yours though, are not the same. Yes he can see the sadness, the pain, but he can see something he hasn't seen before: Acceptance.

With the mask off, you're able to see his face clearly. He looks like he's thinking with the gentle creases on his forehead. His nose is scrunches and his eyebrows furrowed, and you can't help but think he's..."Cute."

It's the last thing I.N hears you say before you pass out, face turning a purple color. He quickly releases his grip on you, pressing a finger under your chin to feel for a pulse. When he feels it, he sighs in relief. Killing you was on his list since he first saw you weeks ago at the library. You did party, he's seen you before. Yet, watching you turn into a hermit because of him was romantic. He loves having that much power over people, over you.

I.N knows better than to play with his food, but he might make an exception this time. After all, he does have a spare room waiting to be used.

a/n: this took a few days and I feel like I could have done better but here ya go, feeback is appreciated update: au part here!

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yamujiburo · 1 year

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POKEMON SERIES RANKED (IMO)

I get this question a lot and haven't made an updated list with Journeys

Original Series (S1-S5)

Sun & Moon (S20-S22)

Chronicles (S0)

Diamond and Pearl (S10-S13)

Advanced (S6-S9)

Journeys (S23-S25)

Black & White (S14-S16)

XY (S17-S19)

Original Series (S1-S5)

OS had that first season charm. Very unpolished, still finding its footing but super enjoyable for those reasons

Probably the strongest series comedy-wise

That GORGEOUS 90s anime style

Main character dynamics were REALLY strong

Ash's personality felt much more like a shitty little 10 year old which was entertaining

Dub writing was also the best hands down

Sun & Moon (S20-S22)

Honestly tied for first with OS for me

REALLY fun ensemble cast! They do a fantastic job giving each character enough time for you to get to know and care about

Excellent modern anime style that perfectly fit the vibe of the season and allowed for some of the best character animation of the show's run

Finally figured out how to write Ash like a 10 year old again (but in a kind/sweet 10 year old way as opposed to OS)

Very different from previous series in terms of the formula they'd follow. Doing a school series instead of another "8 badges to championship" plot felt new and fresh!

This series genuinely made me cry the most (MEMORIES IN THE MIST!!!!! LIKE ARE YOU KIDDING ME)

Chronicles (S0)

Fun concept! It was really nice to see more of the side characters without Ash there. We get to see more of Misty, Tracey, Daisy, Brock, Ritchie, Oak, Delia, Butch, Cassidy, Jessie, James and Meowth!

Stylistically really nice. Just solid drawings all around and it retained the 90s anime style in digital form more successfully than other digitally done series imo

BUTCH AND CASSIDY!!! Team Rocket centric episodes!!! Training Daze!!!!!!!

Idk how possible it would have been (seems like a TON of work) but it made me want one of these in between each season, where we'd follow the characters that Ash had just said goodbye to for the next region.

Diamond and Pearl (S10-S13)

Series I grew up with! Honestly I was kinda a hater as a kid but having watched it back, I love the series

Love that Ash and Dawn were bros. They had a really fun dynamic.

Debatably peak Team Rocket. They had some of the best Team Rocket centric episodes this series.

Contests were really fun and a bit more figured out compared to the Advanced series

Fun, memorable rivals for Ash (Paul and Barry) as well as Dawn (Zoey, Kenny and Jessilina sometimes)

This is unfortunately where I stopped caring about Ash as much. He feels kinda watered down for the next couple series.

Advanced (S6-S9)

Pretty tied up with DP for me

Really fun series! Still had some of that early Pokémon charm

I appreciated that they put Ash in more of a mentor role for May (but he still had a lot to learn himself).

Ash and May constantly butting heads was really fun

May was a very compelling character to me, being very clumsy, kinda lazy, directionless, not really into Pokémon, etc. But then over time, she comes around and finds something she's interested in!

Journeys (S23-S25)

I love the episodic take as well as the way they let the characters jump around from region to region at random

Goh was a GREAT travel companion to Ash. They contrast each other nicely, have moments where they get on each others' nerves but still get along and have a mutual admiration for one another.

It was fun that they made Goh's thing catching every Pokémon (the motto of the entire series) so they could focus on Ash just training and prepping for Worlds.

Amaaaazing style. Took the great parts of classic Pokémon, roundness of SM and blended em together for a really fun look.

Black & White (S14-S16)

I don't think it's that controversial to have BW this low haha

I did enjoy Iris and Cilan but it felt like the writers didn't reaaally know what to do with them? Also this was their first time in a while not having Brock and it shows. I feel like Brock was successful because he was grounded and lower energy compared to the rest of the kids. Having 3 pretty eccentric characters is kind of a lot. No hate to the characters in the slightest, there was just not as much balance.

I think maybe they leaned on Cilan and Iris for more comedic relief because they killed the comedic relief that was Team Rocket this series. I appreciate them trying something new with Jessie, James and Meowth but I don't think it worked very well lol

XY (S17-S19)

I've ranted about this series a lot LOL. I get the appeal of it, but it just wasn't for me. I felt like it was the weakest comedy-wise and took itself a bit too seriously for my taste

My main gripe is that Serena, Clemont and Bonnie all like,,, worship Ash. By doing so, Ash begins to feel like a side character because we're constantly looking at Ash through their eyes. There's so little conflict within the group so their dynamics feel really flat. I think this dynamic could have worked if they leaned waaay more into Ash being a mentor and maybe feeling the pressure of having to be a role model for the people around him.

Team Rocket very much feels like an afterthought in this series. They did in Journeys as well, but at least in Journeys they were doing something silly and also had a handful of episodes dedicated to em.

Outside of that, the episodes weren't super memorable for me

I think it's just frustrating because there was sooooo much potential character-wise

#long post #ranking

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fallenangelicss · 2 months

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Sweet And Spice

PAIRING | Bridget | Queen of Hearts/James Hook

WORD COUNT | 1957

SUMMARY | Bridget's gone missing. Or at least, Red and Chloe can't find her after they get split up for a class they've been forced into. Worried something irreversible might happen while she's out of their sight, they recruit Ella to help locate her. What they uncover is far from what they thought they'd find.

RATING | General Audiences

WARNING/TAG(S) | No Archive Warnings Apply

A/N | First time writing for Descendants, hope you all like it!

AO3 LINK | Read Here

“Hey, Ella,” Red called as she saw the younger version of her newfound friend's mum walk out of one of her classes, a hand raised to wave her over. Chloe’s brows pinched together as her eyes scanned between her mother and Red, attempting to decipher what Red could possibly want with her mum instead of her own. Once Ella stepped over to them, Chloe shook herself out of her thoughts and shot Ella a smile, both of them waiting for Red to speak up once again. “Have you seen Bridget? We haven’t seen her since the whole Uliana incident.”

“No, I haven’t seen her either come to think of it,” Ella murmured, taking a quick scan around the hallway the three of them were in before a concerned look made its way onto her face. Chloe couldn’t tell what that look could mean, unexpectedly foreign to everything about this version of her mum. “But I can help you look for her since my next class is with her.”

“Great,” Red exclaimed, a large grin spreading across her face as she hovered around Ella. Still unused to the layout of Auradon or Merlin Academy, Red didn’t know where to begin looking, leaving that up to Ella to decide. Chloe may have a bit more luck in the sense of the direction, visiting Auradon occasionally to see her brother whenever there was an event taking place at the school, but it was still vastly different to what she had come to know. “Do you have any ideas where she could be? Any places that she goes to when she needs to think or… something?”

“Have you checked her dorm?” Ella asked to which both girls nodded in response to, Briget’s dorm being the first place they checked once they were able to get away from one of the classes they had been roped into. That made Ella’s face contort a bit more as she thought of all the unusual places Bridget might be lurking in between classes. She must’ve had a free period, Ella thought. There wasn’t enough time in between classes to hang out or do whatever, there was hardly enough to even go to your locker and get the book you needed. “She might be in the courtyard somewhere. She normally sits out there when she's looking for a new recipe to try out.”

“That’s perfect,” Chloe said, ready to start walking and go looking for Bridget. With how close Castlecoming was, they couldn’t afford for her to leave their sight. As Chloe walked through the hallway, a loud cough caught her attention. Spinning on her heel to see what was up, she came face to face with Ella who was staring at her with a raised brow. Right, Merlin Acadamy was different to Auradon Prep. With a sheepish smile, Chloe asked, “Would you like to lead the way?”

“Sure,” Ella responded with a crooked smile before starting off in the right direction, leading the newcomers to where Bridget could potentially be. They walked for a few moments in silence, Red and Chloe slightly behind Ella’s pacing as they eyed one another, attempting to have a silent conversation as to what Bridget may be doing and how this could be related to the prank that created their future when Ella turned around abruptly, walking backwards as she asked, “Why do you need to find Bridget anyway?”

“Uh,” Red floundered for a second, trying to think of a lie on the spot while Chloe was two seconds away from revealing the truth about everything. The longer they took to answer, the more suspicious Ella grew, her eyes narrowing a bit as her pace slowed, forcing them to shorten their steps to not overtake Ella. “She said she’d show us around to all of our classes but we didn’t know where to meet her after each one so we’re a bit lost.”

“Makes sense,” Ella nodded, spinning back around to lead them out of the school's building and into the large open space the grounds had. Red’s eyes instantly began scanning the area for her mum, hoping to find some pink peeking out from around a corner so she could relax and know her mum was safe. “I could also show you guys around if you ever needed it. Normally they have someone give new students a tour if they come late in the year but they must’ve forgotten to this time.”

“Yeah, must’ve,” Chloe trailed off, joining Red in her search. Ella looked to be the only one who wasn’t actively looking for Bridget, just leading them around and hoping they would stumble upon her, though Ella must’ve had to find Bridget on numerous occasions to not be concerned at all as to where she might be. “Does Bridget disappear often? You just seem really calm even though we don’t know where she is.”

“Bridget’s a big girl, she can take care of herself,” Ella easily supplied, shrugging her shoulders as they continued their search. The more they looked, the more Chloe was beginning to lose hope that Bridget might be in the courtyard, though the grounds seemed to stretch on for ages. If they didn’t find her soon then they might have to try a different location, though Chloe wasn’t sure how much longer Ella could stay with them before she was late for class. They had already been gone for quite a while so there was no doubt in Chloe’s mind that classes had already begun. “That and this isn’t the first time she’s lost track of time and missed a couple minutes of class trying to find something new to bake. I normally always find her in the same spot which should be right around here.”

Just as Ella said it, the three of them rounded a corner, in front of them but still a few metres away was Bridget sitting at a picnic bench, her skirt fanning around her seat as a closed cooking book was placed in the space next to her. Chloe could see the side of her face, a smile on her face as she looked down at something she hadn’t yet taken notice of. Getting ready to call out to the cheerful girl, Chloe was suddenly yanked back by her jacket, the breath leaving her as she was pulled behind the wall they just stepped around.

“What was that for?” Chloe hissed, looking over her shoulder to where Red was clutching onto her.

“Look,” Red whispered while pointing at Bridget. Chloe’s head spun back around to see what she was trying to indicate to look at. Squinting her eyes to try and help, Chloe was about to raise another question when she finally spotted what Red was trying to show her. Kneeled just in front of Bridget was Captain Hook. Chloe’s jaw dropped at the sight of Bridget’s hands being held by James Hook as the two spoke to one another.

“We’re too far away to hear what they’re saying,” Ella murmured, crouched on the floor as her head stuck around the corner and tried to get a better look. It was to no avail though as the picnic table and Bridget blocked most of Captain Hook. “We need to get closer?”

“How?” Chloe asked, not seeing any hiding points they could use to their advantage. Chloe didn’t get any form of response as Ella took off in a crouched run to a nearby tree, hiding behind it before Bridget or Hook could get wind of her actions. Chloe was again about to ask another question before Red followed in Ella’s actions, making quick work of getting to the large oak tree and hiding behind it. The two of them looked at Chloe expectantly, waiting for her to join them. Murmuring to herself, Chloe said before she made a quick sprint to the tree, “Here goes nothing.”

Taking quick steps, Chloe almost slammed into Red in her efforts to get behind the tree without being noticed. It seemed it didn’t matter what they did though as Bridget and Hook were too caught up in one another to pay attention to them.

“You know,” Hook started, reaching a hand up to curl some of Bridget’s hair around his finger. The grin on Bridget’s face immediately widened at the action, a trickle of nervous laughter escaping her lips as she waited for him to finish his sentence. At the same time that Bridget’s laughter reached their ears, Red stiffened next to them, clearly not liking the sight in front of them. “The two of us are going to be awfully late to our next class.”

“If he doesn’t back away I’m going to feed him to the Jabberwocky,” Red hissed, hands scrunching into tight fists.

“That’s okay,” Bridget’s voice came out in an airy sigh, almost leaning into Hook’s hand. She looked completely smitten, like she was hanging onto Hook’s every action and word. “As long as I get to spend time with you away from the others then it doesn’t matter.”

“About that,” Hook sighed, backing up from Bridget only slightly, his hand leaving her hair to once again fiddle with her delicate fingers. Bridget’s brows furrowed at the unexpected retreat, a sombre expression captivating Hook’s face and making her more aware of what was happening. “I’m sorry about the whole Uliana thing that happened earlier. I told her it was pointless to steal your flamingo feathers but you know Uliana; she always has to be doing something she considers wicked.”

“Oh, that’s whatever,” Bridget easily brushed off, her shoulders bunching up in a shrug as she acted like being chased around the school by an angry Uliana who had been turned partly into a flamingo was no big deal. “I tried to warn her but she just didn’t listen.”

“Maybe next time you can save me one of your cupcakes before they get ruined?” Hook suggested, making Bridget grin shyly and her legs to swing back in little kicks.

“Why is he acting like this in front of my mum- Bridget? In front of Bridget?” Red said, having to save herself since they were in front of Ella. The two of them must be starting to look really suspicious since Chloe had also messed up in front of Ella, accidentally calling her mum as well, although she hadn’t been able to save it as gracefully.

“He must not be able to act this way in front of his own friends,” Chloe suggested, baffled by the turn of events that was playing out in front of them.

“Whatever the reason, I don’t like it.”

“Maybe we should leave them be for a bit,” Ella warned, her eyes stuck to the way Bridget and Hooked were glued to one another, their eyes never straying from the other as they spoke, secluded from everyone else. “It feels like we’re intruding.”

“I’ll make sure I bake extra next time,” One of Bridget’s hands lightly flicked to the cookbook by her side, its cover a mixture of pastels. Her lashes seemed to be fluttering wildly at Hook as a soft blush coated her cheeks. Hook’s face remained a mixture of content and smug as his thumb ran along the back of the hand that Bridget let him keep. Shyly, Bridget offered, “Maybe you can help me taste test, James?” “Yep, definitely time to leave,” Red announced, grabbing onto Chloe’s arm and pulling her away before she could hear any objections. Ella chased after them once she realised they were gone, but not after watching Bridget and Hook for a few extra moments. Before Ella caught up enough for her to hear, Red mumbled to Chloe, “I’m not watching as my mum flirts with Captain Hook.”

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noellawrites · 1 year

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Souvenir - Yandere!Luca x reader

summary: Luca just can't let his rivalry with Carmy go, so he leaves a permanent reminder inside of you. afab reader but no specified pronouns.

warnings: smut, baby-trapping, condom sabotage, forced breeding

You weren't even supposed to go to Copenhagen. The trip was booked for Marcus when his mother took a turn for the worse. So here you were, the recipient of a non-refundable flight, standing in front of Denmark's most renowned kitchen. As The Beef's only waitress, saying you had a lack of food prep knowledge was an understatement. But with Tina and Ebra back in school, the task was left to you.

—

"Carmy taught me everything I know about good service. Really, I owe everything to him. I thought he'd boot me after taking over The Beef but thank god he didn't," you rambled.

"Sounds like he means a lot to you," Luca spoke quietly as he prepped an example dessert.

"He's the best chef I've ever worked with. Maybe not as intense as your rival chef, but he definitely challenges me. For example, sending me here with no experience," you laughed, picking up a tub of diced almonds.

"Seems like a real bond," Luca said simply. He reached across to the other side of you and his tattoos crossed into your line of vision.

"He's like my mentor, brother, work husband and hero all in one. Actually, that sounds stupid when I say it out loud," you laughed nervously.

"I know what you mean. To be so consumed by someone's talent that you just want to seep into their skin," Luca agreed.

A comfortable moment of silence hung between you both as you kept working. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see him staring at you with an unreadable expression before he turned away to grab some dough.

—

"Your lips taste better than any dessert," Luca whispered in your ear as he traced his fingers down your stomach. Pleasure tickled down your spine and he pushed down your shorts, reaching into your panties and tracing your clit.

"Ah--ahh, Luca!" you moaned, and he clamped a hand over your mouth.

Through the dark, you could just make out his pepper tattoo on his hand, which oddly enough reminded you of Carmy. Come to think of it, the patchy placements of his tattoos reminded you a lot of Carmy's. And his entire apartment was bare just like Carmy's was, too. Even Luca's intense expressions sometimes mirrored Carmy's.

I really shouldn't be thinking of Carmy when I'm about to have sex with this hot pastry chef, you thought.

As Luca started pulling his boxers down, you held your hand out to stop him.

"Do you have a condom?" you asked, sitting up and looking around.

"Dresser, top drawer," he said, sounding a bit irked. You handed him the small plastic square and laid back down.

You could hear him ripping open the package with his teeth and stretching the condom over his cock when he suddenly pulled your panties down the rest of the way.

You were lost in pleasure as he dove into your pussy, licking and sucking with his expertly trained tongue.

—

Luca held you against him with his strong arms as you both reached orgasm together, a mess of sweat and pleasure and moans.

"Oh shit Luca, did you just cum in me?" you gasped, wriggling away from him as post-sex clarity struck you.

"The condom must've broken," he said, but you pulled away from him too quick and managed to see what he was trying to hide: the empty, fully intact condom next to him. His hard cock pulled out of you, covered in a mix of your cum, no condom on him at all.

"What the fuck, Luca?!"

"Stay here. With me."

Luca's kind eyes had turned dark, an ulterior motive lurking underneath the surface. You didn't know what he was up to, but you knew it couldn't be good.

You quickly gathered your clothes from the floor and tried to yank your pants on. Luca stood, still completely naked, and moved to stand in front of the door leading outside his flat.

"Move, I need to go pick up Plan B. I'm ovulating, you fucking asshole!"

"You're not leaving. Not until your flight."

"Oh my god, this is so fucked up! I-I barely even know you!" you cried.

"You knew me enough to let me fuck you," he laughed, pulling on his boxers. As much as you hated to admit it, he had stretched you better than anyone else had before.

"I hate you, Luca."

—

You took a Plan B when you got back to Chicago, but by then it was too late. Not only did you bring back three desserts for The Bear's new menu, but you also brought back a tiny baby in your stomach. A little bundle of cells forever tying you to the British pastry chef. You sobbed as you told Carmy, who then gave you the entire story about how he and Luca had met. Rivals, but Carmy was clearly more skilled, more talented, more ambitious.

But now, Luca had finally bested Carmy at something. He left you a permanent reminder, a souvenir from your travels, a big 'fuck you' to his former rival chef.

part two

#the bear luca x reader #luca x reader #pastry chef luca x reader #will poulter x reader #luca the bear #the bear x reader #pastry chef luca #the bear hulu #carmy berzatto #yandere the bear #yandere carmy berzatto #yandere will poulter #what are these tags lmao

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sunny-speaks · 9 months

Text

Nerd (RIVAL!DACTED x Reader)

First Ren Fic of the new year let's go guys!

Lol, life's been pretty busy and I haven't had as much time to write as I wanted but I guess I have a new aspiration for 2024! Enjoy the fic!

Characters: [REDACTED]/[RIVAL-DACTED] from @14dayswithyou x reader !!

Quick summary: library date??? with [RIVAL-DACTED]??? even though hes a pain to you??? more likely than you would think-

You groaned into your hand, head starting to slump into the crook of your arm.

You loved academic validation and you were all for getting good grades and all, but…

Studying?

Always found a way to bore you somehow.

You were painfully poring over the midterm research that your postsecondary teacher and lecturer had assigned for your ‘Psychology in Modern Media’ course.

Sure, it was fun and all. But the exams were sooo boring and the prep material?

God awfully boring.

You took a sip from the drink that you got from the nearby coffee store, twirling the near-empty cup in your hand as you wistfully sighed.

High school was something you’d taken for granted, huh… Man, you'd kill to do those stupid assigned readings right now.

You could feel some form of fatigue taking over your body riiight before… “Angel? What are you doing here~?”

That cotton candy bastard showed up.

Ugh! You couldn’t get enough of him! (In a negative sense! In a negative sense!)

He was everywhere!

You spotted his annoyingly attractive face in that dumb coffee shop earlier when he winked at you and five people behind you nearly fainted.

That ridiculously hot face of his was giving you unwanted and unwarranted troubles! You wanted him gone.

He pulled up in that ridiculously tight black bodysuit and that white slasher hoodie of his with too many belts and buckles to keep track of. The same unfortunately went for his pants.

It’s like he was trying to show himself off! Ugh, he knew he was hot shit, didn’t he?!

You glared at him, frustration seeping through, “What do you want now, [REDACTED]? If it’s not your head on a spike, I’m good.”

He raised his arms in mock surrender, “Woah, what’s got you so worked up, Angel? Is it lonely at the top?” He’d let you top him in anything if you wanted… In class, in bed, whatever…

He looked so stupidly attractive with the way his hair framed his face, the way his grin sat perfectly on all his features, the little way his eyebrows creas—

“Ugh, just, shut up, will you?” You scoffed out at him then winced at your volume.

That was rude. Even for you.

You sighed, exasperated, slight guilt remnants on your face. “I- My bad… Just the… exam prep is confusing. And I don’t get it.”

He gave an inquisitive tilt of his head, “Which questions?” He slid into the seat beside you, leaning close enough for you to smell the faint traces of black coffee lingering on your clothes from your previous encounter. You tried to erase that ugly feeling when you saw him smile at a pair of girls from earlier.

(…Does he always smile like that to others?)

(Ha, yeah. Not like you’re anyone special…)

He smiled softly to himself as his breaths got deeper, trying to intake as much of your natural scent as he could. That was something he would always want more of...

(Those pathetic leeches from earlier left their stupid perfume lingering on his clothes… the only way to rid him of it was to sit closer to youuu <3)

Somehow, you were too preoccupied with your stupidly annoying questions to even berate his presence this time.

And if you were a little distracted by how close he was, that was no one else's business.

They’d been giving you way too much trouble for the past… half-hour or so.

You picked up the question sheet and pointed at the parts you didn’t understand, “So, I got what a sociopath should look like and covert signs in that dumb show I had to watch, and I know the ways to find sociopathic responses in someone, but how does that correlate with these random non-associated symptoms portrayed by this character?!”

You involuntarily leaned closer to him as you stabbed the piece of paper with an accusatory finger, frustrated. “I swear! The teacher hates me or something!”

[REDACTED] wouldn’t let it slide if the teacher actually hated you though… He’d ruin her reputation amongst colleagues while keeping her isolated from social media. They’d make all family members repulsed of her and willing to not contact her. And then they’d get her fired from her job. If she ever tried to get another job, he could easily fabricate a couple pieces of incriminating evidence from one of his crime scenes…

But he knew you would find it hot that he's confident in himself and that he's witty. So he wouldn't explain his plan just like that.

He grinned, a condescending quip on the tip of his tongue. “Maybe it’s just because I’m a hotter student.”

You spluttered in indignance, bewildered how he even thought of that. Was he insinuating he was hotter than you?! He might be right then... “Wh-What?! Asshole! Ugh!” Just as you were about to get up, he added onto his comment.

“Also, the answer’s right there.” He twirled a pen with his fingers, softly whistling to himself.

“Huh?!” You couldn’t believe it.

But he was right...?

You read the part he had underlined and circled and… the answer was there. That's... weird.

You didn’t have a clue on how you missed it! It drove you insane for so long, and for what?! For that stupidly sexy jerk to find it in one go?

You groaned reluctantly at the help. Maybe he wasn’t just… y’know, a piece of ass all the time... or a jerk. Maybe he was… kinda smart and nice. “Fine. Good job, I guess, asshat… Why’re you even here, god knows you don’t need to study. Like. Ever.” You eye up and down at his visible muscles that his outfit strains to keep compressed.

He pouts a little at the accusation. “Mm, even I study, angel. Might be hard to believe with a physique as good as mine, but I do take time to work on my studies.”

“Sure. And it was totally by chance that we saw each other at the coffee shop down the street. And that you study at the same library as me.” You drawled on, naming one coincidence after the other until [REDACTED] was subjected to some form of abject embarrassment. "What're you, a copycat?"

You paid that much attention to him? No one else… Just him?

Ooh, his heartbeat practically played hopscotch in his chest at the revelation! But no! He must remain calm and mean! Only for you!

They grinned slyly at you. “Angel, please. I would never even try to copy you. So it must’ve been your idea to imitate me, huh? Bet you stalk me or something,” He lied through their teeth, in the pathological way they were used to. They’d be lying if it wasn’t incredibly ironic.

“Hah, you wish.” Your nose twitched in annoyance. God, he was far too good at riling you up. “Whatever, what’s the answer to…”

And the two of you spent the rest of the day, bickering over answers.

Maybe [REDACTED] had earned a bit, a fraction, of your gratitude.

Maybe you were starting to like them a bit more.

But he’d never know that, it’s not like he reads your phone notes or messages or has cameras in your house.

…Right?

#yandere x reader #✨ full fic #14 days with you #14dwy ren #ren x reader #ren 14 days with you #2024 post lesgo #yandere

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irisintheafterglow · 1 year

Text

End Game #5 (volleyball captain!gojo x you)

summary: your school holds a practice match with kyoto, and two second-years give your team a little trouble.

word count: 3k

cw/tags: language, jjk volleyball au, mentions of food and eating, eventual best friends to lovers (not this chapter BUT WE'RE MAKING PROGRESS I SWEAR), satoru pulls another your mom joke

note: HERE IT IS the long awaited part 5 :D introducing hitter!todo and setter!kamo to rival your fav hitter/setter duos on the tokyo team. long chapter, sorry in advance but i hope you enjoy!

likes/reblogs/feedback are always appreciated !! thank you for all of the support you've given this series :)

“We haven’t held a practice match with Kyoto in years, right?”

“That is correct.”

“And, in that time, have they ever had a different coach?”

“Not that I know of, no.”

“Interesting.”

“Why do you ask?”

“Nothing, I was just–”

“They’re wondering why ol’ Yoshinobu looks like he was present for the Big Bang.” Your team’s captain finishes your explanation from behind you, much to the amusement of Yaga. You meet his gaze incredulously, silently asking why he wasn’t with the rest of the team warming up. He shrugs and gives you a signature lopsided grin that makes your heart do a somersault. “You’re not wrong, though. That man has more wrinkles than a wet paper towel.”

Your coach draws his mouth into a tight line to suppress a chuckle. “I cannot disagree.”

“Yaga!” A surprised laugh finally slips past your lips while Satoru settles into his place at your side, casually stuffing his hands in the pockets of his jacket. His electric-blue eyes survey the players running serve drills, cool and calculated. “Yuta’s floats have improved tremendously,” you comment, and Satoru hums in agreement. His eyes narrow on a ball striking the top edge of the net and barely falling over to the other side. You feel Yaga intake a deep breath in preparation to yell directions, but Satoru beats him to it, airily reminding Yuuji to take a running start before jumping. Your eyebrows subtly raise in surprise seeing him take initiative and you can’t help smiling at him out of the corner of your eye.

“Shouldn’t you be on the court, capt–” His head snaps in your direction, laser focused on the last word that you cut off just in time. His eyes twinkle with arrogant satisfaction and you stick your tongue out defiantly.

“What was that, my lovely manager?” He cups his hand to his ear and leans in closer, movements animated like a cartoon character.

You push his body away but he doesn’t budge. “I was asking why you’re not on the court warming up with the rest of the team, stupid.”

He hums skeptically. “Sure.” You roll your eyes and shake your head slightly in exasperation, wishing again for that I am done with Gojo Satoru bumper sticker. Yaga shoots Satoru a look over your head that makes him recoil a little bit, running a hand through his hair. “If you’re really wondering, I’m reading Kyoto’s players.”

“The third years?” You nod toward the tall players slamming powerful serve after powerful serve toward your team’s side.

“No, they haven’t been a threat since I was a first-year. Their serves are intimidation tactics.” Your eyebrows furrow confusedly and you track Satoru’s dark eyes. “I’m reading them.” His fingers rest on your head and gently rotate your gaze to two players leisurely prepping serves. In any other situation, you’d swat his hand away, but he was surprisingly correct. It hadn’t occurred to you to analyze the other team; your focus was preoccupied on the improvements of your own players. But, now that they were directly in your line of sight, you were able to properly deduce why Satoru had taken interest in them. “See ‘em now?”

“Yeah, I do.” The one closer to you was an average height but built. Thick, corded muscle ran over his biceps and calves, flexing as he stretched his neck and legs. He bounces the ball he holds on the ground a few times, clapping to himself routinely. Then, when a scan reveals none of your players are watching him, he fires off a serve neatly landing on the backline of the court. Your players don’t blink an eye as they’re still focused on warming up, but you finally understand why Satoru was watching him. His serves were like a bullet, precise and gone in a blink as if he teleported the ball wherever he wanted.

“Who is he?”

“His name’s Todo. One of two second-year prodigies that’ll carry Kyoto to Nationals if we don’t stop them first.”

“He’s that good?”

“Him and that one, over there.” He points to a player tucked into the back corner of the gym, spinning the ball on a delicate finger. He was one of the tallest on the team but you didn’t notice him because of his place in the shadows. Cloudy gray eyes shined as his captain announced the start of spiking drills and you gasped when he set the ball with accuracy nearly on-par with Satoru. The ball moved in a straight, unwavering line, like an arrow that halted just in time for a hitter to punch it over the net. “That’s Kamo. Megs and I have known him since middle school. He’s talented, though his family is a little wacky.”

“Satoru, you can’t just say things like that,” you whisper, begging him to drop the volume of his voice a little.

He doesn’t. “It’s true. Some relatives kicked him and his mom out when he was little.”

“What does that have to do with volleyball?”

“Nothing. It’s just trivia. We’ll be fine, either way.” He smirks down at you and you understand. Even if he was reading the Kyoto team, he wasn’t worried. He was confident and self-assured as always, but had a certain determination in his eye that told you he wasn’t going to hold back despite it being a practice match. His lean bicep bumps your shoulder reassuringly. “Hey, if you’re nervous, I’ll just piss off Suguru again. Get him fired up, you know?”

You shake your head adamantly, one hand coming up to cover your face as you squeeze your eyes shut at the memory of running practice in Yaga’s absence. “Please do not. I don’t want to have to drag you out by your earlobes again.”

“You had to do what?” You and Satoru both stiffen, completely forgetting that Yaga was listening to your conversation the entire time. You attempt to stutter out an explanation while your captain makes a quick escape, bowing unceremoniously in salute and running to join the rest of his players. Soon after, Satoru is pulling the team into a huddle, murmuring warnings about Todo and Kamo and reminding everyone that they’re paying for dinner if they lose. However, instead of groans and protests, you watch Satoru light a decisive fire in his players’ eyes by encouraging them to try the new techniques they’ve been working on.

“If you fail,” he said, “that’s okay.” A lanky arm slapped Suguru on the back and another pulled a tense Nanami closer to his side. “We’ll be here to support you. So, don’t lose.” The team’s fists punch up into the air and you beam at their earnestness. Yaga seemed pleased as well, muttering something under his breath about someone finally getting through his stubbornness.

Kyoto wins the first set, but Tokyo pulls back ahead to snag the second, leaving the third set as a tiebreaker. Between scribbling point counts and player stats in your notebook, you keep a keen eye on the two players Satoru was talking about earlier. Todo was a talented player, though he had an odd habit of clapping for himself before every serve. You also caught Megumi scowling as Todo talked up Yuuji between plays, catching parts of their conversation revolving around tastes in women and TV shows. Kamo, on the other hand, was relatively quiet. He didn’t speak unless it was a recommendation on strategy or directing the ball to a hitter. Megumi was competing head-to-head with Kamo often, despite Satoru’s attempts to draw attention away from his underclassman. He had a weird fascination with Megumi, you could tell, as he targeted him for 90% of his spikes. Todo and Kamo proved to be a threatening duo in the same way Satoru and Suguru or Megumi and Yuuji were; to your amusement, they also bickered just as much.

During the last break before the third set while you hand out water and towels, Suguru follows behind you like a duckling, waiting for you to have a moment to talk.

You catch his eye over your shoulder as you drop towels into the laundry basket. “Did I forget that special flavor thing for yours again? I swear I remembered to put it in because of the one that goes in Satoru’s.”

“What? Oh, no, that’s not what I’m here to talk about.” He crosses his arms and his sharp eyebrows pull together in deep thought, taking a deep breath.

You tilt your head to the side curiously, concerned about what was irking him so much in the middle of a match. “Is everything okay, Su?”

“Yeah, yeah. Nothing is wrong, I promise.” You raise your eyebrows in anticipation of his explanation. “I was just wondering what you said to Satoru that made him like…that.”

“Like what?”

“Like acting as a serious captain.”

“Oh.” You’re speechless for a moment, unable to string together a satisfactory answer. “I just told him that he needed to try a little harder.” It was the truth but for some reason, you still felt you were holding something back.

“For your sake?”

“No, for the team’s sake. Why would it be for my sake?” Suguru is silent, eyes widening ever so slightly like he’d accidentally revealed a secret, glancing behind you at the open air. You feel confident enough to press further. “Suguru, why would he try more for my sake?”

In a blink, he schools his face into careful blankness, shrugging nonchalantly. “Don’t know. It was a weird question, sorry.”

“What was a weird question?” Satoru’s voice pipes up from over your shoulder and you jump. “You can’t be asking people weird questions, Suguru. It’s impolite.”

“You don’t even know the question, idiot.” Indignancy washes over Suguru’s blank features. “What would you know about manners?”

“Ask your mother what she thinks of my manners–”

“Can we please not do this again?” Your hands press against their chests and you laugh nervously. “It’s a miracle all three of us survived last time.”

“Fine. After all…” Satoru’s voice drops to a menacing volume.

“Kyoto has a set to lose.”

The third set made you slightly dizzy as both teams were losing stamina. You didn’t know much about Kyoto when it was exhausted, but you knew your team when it was down. Yuuji’s serves started getting closer to the top edge of the net again, Megumi’s sets were messier, and Panda’s blocks were increasingly hole-filled. Suguru glared across the court at the other team, moisture glistening on his forehead from effort. Even Nanami was winded, wiping sweat from the lenses of his glasses and shaking his head furiously to force his mind back into the game. Your team played their hardest, as did their opponents, but a glance at the score showed 12-10 in favor of Kyoto. With only a handful of points left to win, it looked like Tokyo would be paying for dinner.

Still, as much as they tried, Kyoto was no match for Satoru’s sheer will.

Where the rest of his team was panting and on the brink of collapsing, Satoru was just getting warmed up. His serves were at their most powerful and his sets stayed accurate as Kamo’s declined in quality. His fists opened and closed as the score tied up at 13-13, a habit he only did when he was ready for a fight. Megumi pulls a ridiculously successful dump that has you cheering from Yaga’s side, pulling Tokyo ahead 14-13. With the last point on the line, you caught Satoru muttering something in Suguru’s ear, to which Suguru’s jaw dropped in disbelief. He shook his head no, continuing to protest at Satoru’s back as his captain broadcasted a hand signal you’d never seen before and prepared possibly the last serve of the match.

“It’ll be fine, Suguru! We’re the strongest!” He reassures his nauseous-faced hitter as his opponents snicker, and gives you a quick wink before serving the ball at 45% of his power. Your eyebrows skyrocket in shock as Kyoto receives it easily and makes to tie the score again. What the hell was he doing? Was he purposefully trying to tie up the score? Kamo smirks as he gives a practically perfect set to Todo, who blasts it straight down. You flinch and wait for the gut-churning sound of the ball hitting the floor, but it doesn’t come. Yuuji’s forearm slides under the ball just in time, and he rolls to the side. The receive isn’t the cleanest, dropping toward the middle of the court.

“You better know what you’re doing!” Suguru calls after his captain, who sprints from the back left corner diagonally toward the net. Suguru mirrors this action from the right corner and like a machine, they screech to a stop in the middle and use that momentum to throw themselves up toward the net. With a mischievous grin, Satoru calls out Inumaki’s name, who’s already in the air from the backline as the ball carefully falls into the libero’s outstretched fingers.

Your body finds itself standing on its own as Inumaki sets it right to Satoru’s open palm where your captain pulls the nastiest cross shot you’d ever witnessed. Your throat rips a shocked scream that blends seamlessly with the rest of the players’ exclamations of awe. Yaga’s mouth hangs open like a fish, as does Yoshinobu’s while your team swarms around their captain. Suguru, from the other end of the net, appears on the verge of passing out but still finds his hand proudly clapped with Inumaki’s. When Satoru’s eyes find yours, you can’t remember the last time he smiled at you so blindingly, nor can you remember a time beaming just as happily.

He skips the joint dinner between Tokyo and Kyoto, humbly excusing himself when you leave and announcing something about walking you home safely. He falls into step next to you, shoes tapping on the sidewalk in sync with yours.

“You’re not gonna get dinner with the team?” You ask, well aware that he wouldn’t have attended unless you were there too.

“Meh,” he drawls. “Yuuji can fend for himself for a night against Todo, and Megumi needs to learn to play nice with Kamo.”

The corner of your mouth turns up and you find yourself admiring the way the moonlight glittered in Satoru’s eyes. “You say as if they’re your children.”

“Are they not? I am a single father.”

You giggle. “Yeah, you definitely are. I just didn’t think that, with your extroverted ass, you’d skip an outing with such a large group.”

His mouth quirks carefreely, beautiful eyes tracing constellations in the night. “We have a tradition, don’t we?”

“Oh, you’re not going to ask that one person I got mad about the other night?” The words slip from your lips before you can stop them, and Satoru points at you accusingly.

“So you were mad! I knew it!”

“You brought up replacing me with some random stranger; of course I was mad!” You point back at him, poking his chest. He cries out in fake pain, flailing his limbs like an octopus. “I like spending time with you, you know. Even when I don’t tell you.” Your voice trails off and you look anywhere but his face, embarrassed.

You can hear the smirk in his voice. “Yeah, I know. For the record, I like spending time with you too.” He exhales tiredly. “Why’d you think you’re the only one I wanted to get dinner with tonight?”

“Because you like me better than everybody else,” you croon, fluttering your eyelashes dramatically. You expect him to recoil in faux-fear; however, your heart skips as he steps closer and peers down at you.

“Exactly. Now you’re starting to get it.” His voice is soft with something like exasperation, but the tenderness is gone in a snap. “However, I’d like to do something different tonight, if that’s alright with you.”

Your eyes narrow suspiciously. “Depends on what it is. Are you going to make me eat something I don’t like?”

“No,” he replies, drawing out the last vowel for emphasis. “I’d never.” You look at him skeptically, remembering the time he made you eat a barbecue-flavored cricket. The memory must have occurred to him at the same time and he matches your skeptical expression. “Don’t look at me like that; you said you liked it.” Your mouth opens in retaliation, but he isn’t finished.

“Let’s go somewhere nicer tonight, not just shitty fast food.”

“I thought you loved shitty fast food.”

“I do, but today is a day of celebration! It demands a different meal than burgers.” He cringes and sticks his tongue out in mock disgust.

“So, what? You want slightly more expensive burgers?”

“If that’s what you want, sure.” He runs an elegant hand through his hair and you fight the sudden urge to weave your fingers in his. “Let’s go somewhere nice. I’ll even pay.”

You scoff. “With what money?” He’s quiet again, tilting his head back and forth like a kid caught with too much candy. You understand without a word, mainly because this situation occurred once before. “Satoru!”

His arms gesture to open air defensively. “It was right there!”

“You don’t remember the last time you stole it?”

“If I recall correctly, he wasn’t that mad that I borrowed it.”

“Yeah, that’s because I was there with you, and don’t try to say it was borrowing! If you weren’t related to him, it would be considered theft.”

“What dear old dad doesn’t know won’t hurt him, babe.” Your face heats at how easily the pet name slips from his pretty mouth and you pray he doesn’t notice. “So? What do you say? I promise to take full responsibility and also eat anything you don’t like.” His finger crosses an “X” over his heart and you can’t resist the genuine excitement on his face.

“Fine. But I’m paying for dessert.”

He stamps his foot in childish protest. “That’s not how this–”

“I don’t care if it’s not how it works, Satoru. Consider it payback for not asking that rando to dinner.”

Even after he walks you home and leaves you a smiling, feeling-filled mess at your windowsill, you’re left wondering who that mystery person is.

#gojo x reader #gojo x you #jjk x you #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #jujutsu kaisen #satoru gojo #jjk volleyball au #suguru geto

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basketprutas · 7 months

Text

I can't stop feeling, I want her love ♡

Prompt: Childe, captain of your rival school's soccer team, helps you clear out the soccer field and closes it up with you. Will he stop being an asshole? Probably not.

Characters: SoccerPlayer! Childe x Fem reader

Genre: Modern High School Sports AU, school rivals to something more?

Notes: This prompt was in my mind and I couldn't help but bring it to life. I hope y'all like this!

Now playing... She wants me (to be loved) by The Happy Fits!

Soccer practice was always fun but sometimes sharing the field with your rival team isn’t the best idea. You had no choice though, both your team and Childe’s booked the same field for the same time slot and now you had no choice but to practice with their team.

You’re not complaining, with the start of the season coming up next week, having a rough practice with his team can prep you and your team for what’s to come. It was a great match, with both teams doing their best until the very end. Though it ended with a tie, you and Childe were fine with the outcome. With both of your teams being the best out of all the other teams, you were expected to meet in the finals anyway.

Now late at night, the cold breeze blows through the field as both you and Childe pick up the balls all over the place. He was moving the cart for the soccer balls while you picked them up. Childe, of course, was being a piece of shit by teasing you as you went around the field.

“You wanna kiss me so bad it makes you look stupid.” He laughs as you pick up the balls. “Projecting now, are we?” You replied, not backing down from his usual antics. “Just admit it, you have a stupid little crush on me. You should just leave me alone, you know.” He nudges your shoulder. “While I would love to do so, you and I are unfortunately stuck together while we’re still in season.” You groan.

“You’re annoying, you know that right?” “I’m doing nothing but helping you clear out the field, Jesus.” “Whatever, you just wanna stare at my eyes all night long.” He teases, and your face turns more sour as he continues talking. “It’s funny how you always get upset so easily.” He added.

“And it’s frustrating how you sound like a fucking frat boy that’s desperate.” “Says the girl who can’t take a joke?” He stopped rolling the cart and when you picked up a ball, you threw a ball in his direction, a little harder than you anticipated. Childe grunts as the soccer ball hits his stomach, and you laugh it off.

“You trying to get me hurt or something?” He complains and you can’t help but feel bad. “Sorry, got caught up.” You say as you pick up more balls and shoot them to the cart. “God I hate you,” He replies. “Yeah of course you do.”

Once you and Childe gather all the soccer balls, both of you sigh in relief. All that’s left to do is to clear out the locker rooms and you can leave the field soon enough. The locker room was a mess, with scattered equipment here and there and some water bottles too. You start clearing the mess by starting with the trash.

“How the hell does everyone, even my own team, leave this place a mess.” You complain as you clean up. “Because we’re tired after training, is what it is,” Childe replies as he sees you struggle a little bit. “Need any help?”

“Just clear out the equipment over there.” You point at the scattered equipment and he nods as he starts to do what you asked. Feeling a little bit of awkwardness, Childe tries to stir up a conversation. “So uh, you going to the game of the other teams?” He asks hesitantly. “The others? I mean, they could never compete against us. Contrary to popular belief, I do believe you and your team are good.” You reply nonchalantly.

“Cocky, but seriously- you’re going?” He says as he puts back the last of the equipment. “Probably. Still need to look out for that one guy from Inazuma, looks promising.” “He is good, though he won’t have a chance to play considering he’s up against me and my team.” He laughs.

“Not unless my team wins first.” You say as you tie the last garbage bag. “Like you’ll actually win. I don’t know why you bother to try, honestly.” He rolls his eyes. “We may have lost last year but I swear this year is promising.” You reply as you remember last year’s finals.

“And how will things be different this year?” He teases. “You know what, let's make a bet. If your team wins, I’ll do whatever you want.” He adds, and you turn to face him. “I gain nothing from that. No thanks.” You grab your bags and lock up with him beside you.

“Psh you’re such a coward,” he laughs. “Who’s to say I don’t want something too? Let's just bet, come on captain.” Both of you were now walking out of the soccer field. “Excuse me?” You reply, staring at him in disbelief. “Did I stutter? If I win, have dinner with me. What’s so bad about that?” He smirks.

“You’re unbelievable, fine! If my team wins you’ll do whatever I want and if you win I'll eat dinner with you.” You say, defeated. He just never seemed to back down even in things as foolish as this. Childe does a little victory dance and you scowl and cringe as you watch him do so. “Oh, you are SOOO on. If you lose, prepare for the best dinner of your life.” “Whatever you say, Ajax. Have a good night.” You reply as you reach the exit of the field. “Goodnight captain!” He says as he runs over to his car.

The night may be over, but things just got interesting.

As you drive back home, you can’t help but laugh off everything that just happened.

Childe was always a tease, and even in previous games you would notice his tenacious energy. Your casual banter with him before and after games was always a pain in the ass, but no one can complain, after all, you and his teams were the best out there. You’d eventually see each other and be the finalists every season. Now with a little bet placed, you can’t help but feel a little motivation to do better than before.

Why did Childe make the bet in the first place? You could only guess.

END.

Notes: TEEHEE I felt so giddy writing this and I may or may not have another part already in the works... so if you guys actually want me to continue this ill post the next part soon enough >:) (also none of this is probably true to what soccer is but shhh for the sake of the story lets just say soccer does have equipment LMAO)

I recently started writing again; click here to learn more about me ^-^

Inbox is always open for suggestions and comments.

-Clara

#genshin impact #genshin imagines #ajax genshin #childe x reader #childe imagines #tartaglia #tartaglia x reader #tartaglia genshin imagines #childe genshin imagines #childe #genshin #genshin x reader #basketprutas

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dax-enfinity · 8 months

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fuck it,

EQG au where Sunset and Sunburst are siblings but Sunburst goes to Crystal Prep unlike Sunset who’s going to Canterlot High

Turns out the EQG Mane Six had no idea Sunset had a brother (she forgot to tell them…) or the fact that he goes to Crystal Prep either

Shenanigans, misunderstandings, rivaling schools drama, and typical dumbass teenage bullshit ensues

Make it even dumber with Sunburst and Starlight being almost like siblings since they grew up together and parents being really good friends

Yet Starlight goes to Canterlot

And also add the fact that Sunburst is dating King Sombra who’s now just a tall, handsome, scary, bisexual that is also attending Crystal Prep

Sunburst and Sunset have more “human” full names:

Sunburst Erin Flare

Sunset Blake Shimmer Flare

NOTE: Sunburst and Sunset have the same last name “Flare” but in school assignments/events/whatever Sunset mainly uses “Shimmer” due to “Sunset Blake Shimmer Flare” being such a hassle to write, read, and call

(And also, I just remembered that Sunburst’s mom actually has “Flare” in her name !!)

So it works !!

Might just ramble LMAOOOO

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humaudrey · 19 days

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Descendants Scene Rewrite - Meeting The VKs (Part 1)

Auradon Prep's marching band played a typical, upbeat and positive song fitting for a student's first day, swaying to the beat of their own drum. From behind the marching band, nearby the school statue, Zephyr's shoulders joined them and were in sync with the band.

Ben nudged Melody with his free arm, and gestured toward Zephyr. The two shared a small laugh, mimicking his movements despite the amused and confused looks from Seth and Audrey. They couldn't blame him, the trio had waited for this day for years. Today was only the beginning.

The black limo had suddenly driven past the school sign and made its way in front of the dormitory building. Students and staff who greeted the newcomers at the front gate had marched behind them, waving blue and yellow flags rapidly and eagerly with smiles before joining their peers by the dorms and the main school building.

The driver parked in front of the drop off area, and hastily opened the door.

Everyone's smiles and happy demeanor had died with the music. Immediately, two boys fell out of the limo door, grunting as they tugged at a blue towel. Despite the size difference, the smaller, white haired boy had managed to put up a fair fight against the tan, long dark brown haired individual in the burgundy beanie.

"You got–everything else, why do you want whatever this is?"

"Because you want it! Give it–"

"No–"

The two continued to roll toward the rear end of the limo before the beanie wearer managed to gain an advantage. He straddled the boy with his knees on the other's waist and they continued their vicious game of tug of war.

The marching band cleared a path for Fairy Godmother and the other five, who cautiously walked a few steps forward.

"Hey, get off of him!" Zephyr yelled.

"Zephyr, sweetie, let's not–"

Fairy Godmother was too late. Zephyr ran and pushed the beanie wearer off, only managing to cause the tug of war over the towel to get even more violent. Zephyr had found himself intertwined in their tussle and the three continued to venture more to the right of the limo, with Fairy Godmother pacing behind the three and pleading for them to stop.

Once the four were a good distance away from the door, the driver beckoned for the others to depart for the limo.

The next person was a girl dressed in blue leather, who stole everyone else's attention away from the scuffle. Save for her fair complexion, and her poison apple red lipstick, most of her was blue, including her softly curled hair. Her brown eyes lit up like fireworks as she spun–no, twirled–around the area a few times. She faced Ben and the others and greeted them with a deep curtsy in her black graphic skirt, and Ben found himself replying back with a charmed smile. Her posture and poise had rivaled that of any princess Auradon had ever produced. Her stance was perfect, almost too perfect, like a mannequin in a dress boutique or an action figure whose ballpoint joints were forcibly pushed to create the perfectly still pose. One of the band members had turned to look back at Seth. His eyes bounced back from the blue haired girl to him. Seth smirked and subtly nodded back in reply, and the eyes behind the trumpet player's glasses widened in horror.

Another girl followed after, but she was much more hesitant. She peaked her head out the door, and covered her eyes with her hand as if someone had shined a flashlight in her face. As she made it out of the limo, Audrey felt a nervous lump forming in her throat. She recognized that specific, unnatural yet beautiful shade of green in the girl's eyes from anywhere. Her purple hair and the purple and green leather ensemble with dragon insignias were dead giveaways as well, and the look of disgust as she surveyed the dorm building only made the resemblance to her that much more apparent. The girl in purple caught the gaze of another band member, a French horn player, staring at her. Though, unlike the others, he looked...interested?

Suddenly, the French horn player flinched as yet another person in the limo shoved the girl in purple forward so they could get out. Catching herself from eating asphalt, she turned to repay the favor. The person responsible cackled manically before winking at the four future monarchs almost in a flirtatious manner.

Yet another boy, who coincidentally also wore a shade of red like the other two boys before him, and the tallest one so far. He was a brunette, with beautiful blue eyes that popped thanks to his black eyeliner. Unlike the other four villain kids, he seemed to be dressed more like a–

"Pirate," Melody murmured to herself. His dingy scarlet leather trench coat that shined under the sun, the truffled white blouse underneath, the tethered pants, the boots, Melody scanned over his entire ensemble several times. He was definitely a pirate. And if he was a pirate–

He had to be the son of Captain Hook, the man who killed Melody's grandmother.

"Woah, pretty!" let out another voice from the limo.

Melody's eyes darted back to the next person, another boy. He had a similar pirate style to the previous; an orange and brown leather steampunk styled shirt, tethered jeans, and black boots. He was much tanner than the other pirate and the combination of his skin complexion and his wavy blonde hair underneath his brown bandana reminded Melody of the surfers back at Seaside, though, most of the surfers weren't as buff. Despite his stature, size, and getup, and the fact he was from the Isle; he glanced at the other people scattered around him and waved at each individual with a welcoming smile that competed with the sun.

"Hello?!" called out an impatient voice.

Both of the pirate boys immediately turned back to the opened limo door, a black leather gloved hand reaching out, as if it–or, she, Melody assumed–was waiting for one of the two to grab it.

The red pirate grabbed the right hand, and the orange and brown pirate grabbed the other she lent, and the two properly escorted her out.

Melody's stomach dropped to her toes. The first thing she noticed were the long turquoise braids underneath a black pirate hat. Her black, turquoise, and purple fishnet and leather dress that complimented her deep brown skin implied she was a pirate too. No, not just a pirate, a captain. Their captain; the looks of pride and admiration on the other pirates' faces as if she were their goddess made that obvious. Her hardened face with such familiar facial features resembled that of a soldier going to war, and the confidence in the few steps she made in her heeled boots suggested she'd be the sole victor. The smoking gun that tipped Melody off about the identity of the pirate captain was the all too familiar gold Nautilus necklace that hung near her chest.

She was Ursula's daughter, and subsequently, Morgana's niece.

Melody thought she was ready for this, but her shivering body disagreed with her. Did she hate Melody for what her parents did? Or for sabotaging her aunt's attempt at opening the barrier and freeing her and the rest of the Isle inhabitants? Did she want revenge? Was that the original necklace?

As if the sea witch pirate captain heard the haunting thoughts in Melody's head, her brown eyes locked with Melody's. Like the rest of her surroundings, she gave Melody a careful and slow look over, examining every molecule that made up Melody's entire being.

A sudden, soft yet high-pitch ringing noise caused Melody to look down at her necklace. The gold seashell pendant was glowing, despite the lack of water needed for it to work, and it floated outward lazily. Melody glanced back at the sea witch pirate captain, only to find that the Nautilus pendant had done the same, glowing and floating outward toward Melody as if their necklaces were magnetic.

This was a first for Melody, but she never had the opportunity to meet others with enchanted jewelry other than her siblings. The sea witch pirate captain silently laughed and winked in Melody's direction while tucking away her pendant necklace under her dress. That answered one of Melody's questions at least.

Both of their necklaces had calmed down but Melody only continued to shiver, clasping her hands together tight like stress balls. Every cell in her brain told Melody to run, while every vein in her heart wanted her to stick it out.

"–and as we always say, leave it like you found it."

Melody looked back at Fairy Godmother making her way back to her group. The two boys from earlier dragged their feet over to the rest of the Isle inhabitants. The shorter boy was quite fashionable, in red, white, and black, with brown freckles like Dalmatian spots covering his unamused face. The taller boy dusted off his burgundy and yellow vest before he slowly made his way to the makeshift welcoming committee.

Zephyr was right on Fairy Godmother's tail, his head hung low with his hands in his pockets, unaware of the beanie wearer's presence.

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