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marvelouslizzie · 8 months

Text

Not Lonely Anymore

summary: You hear your roommate Bucky Barnes moan your name while masturbating and it changes everything between you two.

pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

word count: 3K

warnings: 18+, dry jumping (brief), unprotected sex, daddy kink, metal arm kink, choking, teasing, dirty talk, no mention of y/n.

A/N: Hello hello! I present you the last part of my Lonely Night series. I am so grateful for your interest in the first two parts. I tried to keep my motivation up and give these two perverts a satisfying ending. I hope you will enjoy it as much as I did. Your feedback would be much appreciated.

You don't have to read the first two parts to understand what's going on but if you want to, please check my blog/masterlist for A Lonely Night and Same Lonely Night.

Thank you so much @notafunkiller for beta-reading and editing. Daddy kink and choking is for you ✌️

All work is mine, please do not repost or translate without my permission.

Read more tag starts after the second paragraph of the story.

You can’t take your eyes off Bucky while you're processing what has just happened. Your eyes roam around his face and bare chest before falling on his shorts. His erection is pressed against the waistband, carefully hidden away from you but the wetness forming on the fabric betrays Bucky’s intentions. You can’t contain your smile, but Bucky doesn’t see it. He’s too lost in his own thoughts, and when your eyes meet, you realize he is worried and embarrassed. He opens his mouth, wanting to say something in order to end this awkward silence, but you beat him to it.

“Did you just say my name?” It comes out so calm, you even surprise yourself.

You know he did. You heard it with your own ears loud and clear. That’s why you dropped your glass after all. But it was that shocking to you. That unbelievable! So you just want him to confirm it. To make it real and assure you that really happened. Maybe then you will be able to believe it.

“I- I can explain.” You notice the cold sweat forming on his forehead.

He seems like a scared kid who got caught doing something he shouldn’t do. And it’s probably because he thinks he might lose you. You would feel the same way if he was the one who caught you masturbating just an hour ago. God, that would be mortifying, but now that you are on the other side of the equation, all you feel is excitement.

The realization eventually sinks in: he wants you. He actually wants you. That gives you a level of confidence you never had before.

You take a step forward and close the distance. Your lips are on his before he can react. You wanted to do this for a long time, but you had been unsure if he would have wanted it or not. You have a clear answer now, so there’s no need to hold yourself back. It takes him a second to respond to you, but you don’t hesitate. You just keep kissing him and it wakes him up like he has been hibernating for a long time.

His hands wrap around your torso and he pulls you closer. His fingers are digging into your hips like he’s trying to convince himself this is real, and he tilts his head just enough to deepen the kiss. His tongue gently slides into your mouth and that makes you moan for the first time. His lips, his tongue… He tastes so sweet. You just can’t get enough of it. It makes you crave him even more, and you don’t know how that is even possible.

Suddenly you push him, hoping to get him back inside his bedroom, but he doesn’t move an inch. He just gives you a dazed look, trying to understand why you did that.

“Work with me. Just move back.” You sound impatient, and he finally understands what you are trying to do.

“Fine.” He raises both of his hands like he’s surrendering, with a smile on his face, then he takes a step back and lets you push him further inside the room. You continue until the back of his knees hits the bed and he falls onto it after one final push.

“Is that what you wanted?” He sounds amused.

“Yeah.” You straddle him without missing a beat, getting comfortable on his lap while he pulls you in for another kiss.

This time it feels a little different. His hands are on your cheeks, holding you still while his tongue explores your mouth. It is the most passionate kiss you have ever had in your life. His erection is standing right there, between your legs and you can’t help yourself… You can’t stop that urge that’s slowly building up and why would you? You’re on his lap, finally doing this. There’s no need to stop yourself from doing what you want. So while he tastes you however he wants, you start to move your hips. After a couple of tries, you find the perfect spot and both of you moan nearly at the same.

He stops kissing you for a second just to take a breath, but he still holds your cheeks with his big hands and looks into your eyes. It’s like he’s afraid you might disappear. You have no plans of disappearing or stopping, though. You keep moving your hips and watching his eyes flutter every time you rub the right spot. It feels good even with the fabric between you two. Yet it’s not enough.

“We should get rid of your shorts.”

“And your panties.”

You raise yourself on your knees, just enough for him to push his shorts down, but you don't give him enough space to take them off completely.

“I don’t wanna use any protection. Do we have to?”

“Well, we don’t have to, but we might need to.” He’s not sure how fertile he is. It’s not like he tried it before, so it’s quite risky. All he knows is he has a lot more come than an average man and that’s a problem when it comes to using condoms. They are practically useless.

“I’m on the pill.” You quickly clarify. You only asked the question to see if he was comfortable with the idea or not.

“Then we definitely don’t need to.” Oh, he’s definitely comfortable. The way he just said it is enough.

He grabs his cock while you pull your panties aside without wasting any time, and you lower yourself onto him while balancing yourself with one arm on his shoulder.

“That impatient?” He taunts you, but he chokes on his words as soon as he feels your wetness. The head of his cock rests between your folds while you answer him:

“Are you not?” You sound relatively normal. Then you keep talking while taking him inch by inch. “Would you rather fuck your fist and fantasize about me?”

He wants to answer you. He wants to say something, but being balls deep inside you makes it harder to do so. He just lets out a low groan while grabbing your ass to ground himself.

You’re not so different from him. The way he stretches you pulls a pornographic moan out of you. You sit still for a second, trying to get used to this feeling. You can’t remember the last time you felt this full. It makes you shiver even without moving. You take your time and he just waits, patiently until you get used to the sensation. After a couple of seconds, you feel confident enough to move.

“Ready?”

“Yes.” There’s a bit of hesitation in his voice, but you don’t notice it because you are lost in the feeling of finally being so full. All of your senses are overwhelmed by it.

You aren’t sure if it’s going to hurt because he’s definitely the biggest you have ever had. So you move your hips slowly and test the waters. There’s something there. Some kind of discomfort. You can’t say you feel uncomfortable, you just need to get used to his size. So you keep moving because there’s this promise of pleasure hidden behind that discomfort. You can nearly taste it and it keeps you going. While trying to figure out the best way to move, you don’t realize Bucky is watching you, carefully. He’s trying to read your expression and see if you are okay. He’s ready to take up the reins or just stop if that’s what you need. His hands gently roam your body, discovering little details about your skin. Like how many moles you actually have.

“No rush. Take your time.” He sounds more like himself, much more confident than before.

You moan because of his words. His voice is deeper and it makes your blood rush. You start to move a little faster and notice how the discomfort slowly fades away. He notices that, too while grabbing your tits with both of his hands. One is colder than the other, and the contrast is dizzying. You lean into him, just to feel him a little bit more, and his grip on your tits tightens.

“God, so fucking pretty!”

Before you can say anything, his mouth is on your right nipple. You feel his tongue flicking over and over again while his other hand rests on the other breast. Then he sucks your nipple into his mouth, letting his teeth graze over it. You grunt because of the mixed sensations. Just when you are about to protest, he lets out your nipple and moves on to the other one. He gives it the same treatment. A mix of licking, sucking, and biting until you can’t contain your movements. Your hips start to move so much faster, making both of you moan loudly.

“God, I wanted to do this for ages!” The words spill out from your lips without much of a thought.

“You did?” He doesn’t miss a beat.

“Yeah.” There’s no point in hiding it anymore, is there?

“Does this mean I am the daddy?”

His question catches you off guard, and you just freeze in the middle of the action.

“You… heard me.” It comes out more like a question rather than a statement.

“Why do you think I was masturbating?”

It takes you a couple of seconds to process what he's just said. He actually heard you. You never used his name, but it doesn’t change the fact that he witnessed something so private. Something you really wanted to hide from him, yet the idea of him hearing you also sets you on fire. Instead of submitting to the urge to get all shy, you decide to ask him what you actually want to know.

“You heard me and instead of making a move, you decided to fuck your fist?”

“What was I supposed to do? Knock on your door and ask if I can replace your dildo?”

“Yeah. Sounds great to me.” You keep moving your hips fast while talking. “Or maybe you are too shy to take what you really want.”

“Shy?” He blinks a couple of times.

“You don’t seem shy but maybe you are. Maybe you are a submissive little boy who wants to just lay here and take whatever I give you.”

You watch his expression change into something so different. It’s not particularly dark, but it feels like it. Before you can say anything else, he just flips you over. Your mouth falls open when your back touches the bed. Instinctively, you try to wrap your legs around his torso, but he doesn’t let you. Instead, he pushes your knees back to your chest.

“What are you doing?” Your amazement is evident in your voice.

“Taking what I really want.” It takes a lot of effort to hide your smile. You can’t believe your taunting worked that quickly. “Tell me if it gets too much and I will stop.”

“Oh, I doubt that.”

He waits for you to finish talking and then he starts to move. Your mouth falls open once again but this time, it’s not because you are surprised. It’s because you can’t believe how good it feels. It’s completely different than how it felt when you were on his lap. He reaches deeper inside you in this position, and his hands are still on your legs, pushing you further into the bed. You let out another sinful moan.

“Way better than I imagined.”

“Is it?” A smile lingers on his lips. “Feel free to be as loud as you want.”

“Do you want us to get kicked out of this apartment?” It takes every ounce of strength in you to form this sentence without stuttering. It’s so hard to talk like you aren’t getting railed.

“No, I just wanna hear you call me daddy.”

You can’t help but moan. Shit, he really heard everything. You feel so exposed, but somehow it doesn’t bother you. Is he actually into this? Who could’ve guessed?

“If you want that, you gotta work harder than this.”

“Ask for it.”

“Harder, please.” He waits for daddy to come out of your mouth, but it doesn’t. You really meant what you just said, he needs to earn it.

So that’s exactly what he does. He starts to pound you, just the way you fantasized. He manages to touch every part inside you and fills up in a way that makes you wanna cry. Your moans get louder with each thrust.

“Oh fuck! Oh fuck!” Your ears start to buzz. You can feel that your orgasm is close.

“Talk to me, doll.”

He wants to hear you, and you don’t feel like holding back anymore.

“I’m-I’m so close, Bucky.”

“What do you need?” His question is instant. You feel that he’s ready to do whatever you want.

“Nothing. Absolutely nothing.” You take a deep breath just to be able to keep talking. “Just keep going. Please…” Your voice comes out so pathetic, but you can’t brush off the urge to beg him. He would like that, wouldn’t he? You did it while masturbating and he got a hard-on just because of you. “Please, please, please.”

Your words make him groan like he is struggling to contain his excitement.

“I really need it, daddy, please…”

“Fuck, baby.” You feel him losing control. His thrusts are sloppier but he notices that, too. His metal arm moves on your chest and rests there. You don’t know if he’s trying to keep you still or ground himself. Then he looks directly into your eyes, trying to see if that makes you uncomfortable or not. It definitely doesn’t. Quite the opposite, you need his hand on your neck, and you gently grab his metal hand and move it on your neck without breaking eye contact. You watch his eyes widen with the realization.

“Are you sure?” You nod in response, but it’s not good enough for him. “Words, baby. I need actual words.”

“Please.”

That does it. His fingers tighten around your neck, pressing right against your veins, careful not to crush your windpipe.

“Yess.” Your head is thrown back. This is exactly what you wanted.

The way he’s choking you snaps something inside you. It intensifies everything you are feeling at that moment. Your whole body suddenly starts to shake, and it surprises you. You have never reached an orgasm this quickly before.

“Yes, yes, yes. Oh god, yes!” Your voice comes out hoarser than usual.

“Look at you.” He taps his fingers on your neck while he keeps moving. “My pretty baby. So good for me.”

You only moan in response, already too lost in the waves of your orgasm. It’s running through your whole body like electricity.

“Look at me! Look into my eyes.” He sounds so commanding and you listen to him even though it’s so hard to do it. He looks like he’s about to lose it, too.

“Come with me. P-please.”

“You want me to come, baby?” He asks in a way that makes you wanna cry out even more. Like he won’t come if that’s what you want. He will keep holding back until you say so but you don’t want that. You want him to enjoy this as much as you do.

“Please, daddy. Come with me.” He groans in response. You clearly see how your words affect him, especially calling him daddy. You can’t believe how much he’s into it.

He stops holding back and starts to move in a way that makes you scream. So you do that. You can’t contain the noises you make when he moves like this. You grip on his sheets, letting him ruin you for any other man.

“Fuck! Such pretty sounds… You like it that much, baby?”

“Yes, yes. So good, daddy.” You slur at the last part. You don’t care. You don’t care about anything when he makes you feel like this.

“Fuck, you take me so well.” You can actually hear that he’s close. “I-I’m gonna come, oh fuck.”

“Yess!” You have been waiting for this. You want it so badly. You wanna see him come. You want him to feel good, all because of you. You want to witness a part of him that he hides away from everyone else. It feels like owning a part of him. So private and primitive, but you don’t care. You need this.

He lets out the most guttural moan right before starting to come inside you. He doesn’t stop, just keeps the same pace, emptying himself inside you.

“Take it, baby. Take it! It’s all yours.” You know what he’s talking about. His come is already dripping out, yet he’s not done coming.

It looks like he lost his damn mind, but it’s the hottest thing you have ever witnessed in your life. You are so fascinated by him even though you are still coming yourself. That's why you force yourself to keep your eyes open and watch him while your high slowly fades away. Yet he keeps going. His hands are gripping on your tights, pulling you into him every time he moves. His come is dripping on your ass, to the sheets. It’s so messy but feels out of this world.

After a couple more thrusts, he collapses on top of you. His head rests on the crook of your neck, and you feel his heavy breathing on your skin. You don’t mind it, though. He doesn’t let his whole weight crush you. Always so thoughtful….

Your hands go to his hair, gently stroking it. That makes him move his head and look at you.

“We should’ve done this before.” That makes you wanna laugh, but instead, you just give him a huge smile.

“Yes, we should have. It was amazing.”

Suddenly he moves away from you, leaving you completely empty. It makes you whine instantly. You miss the fullness and the warmth of his cock already.

“Where are you going?” You give him a confused look while raising yourself on the bed. “Come back here.”

“Not was.” He kneels right next to the bed, in between your legs, and moves his head closer to your dripping core. “I’m not done with you, baby.”

6K notes · View notes

arminsumi · 7 months

Text

I want to kiss you — キスしたい

G. Satoru — さとる ⋅ fem reader

NOTE : there's more parts planned for this, i just wanted to get at least this continuation out ✌️ it's maybe gonna be a bit of a slowburn thing, bc personally i love anticipating the buildup of two characters kissing. and also ugh i have such cute ideas in the drafts for this! like you and him using a magnetic drawing board to write down things that you take turns deciphering. and him writing a whole diary of his thoughts that he wishes he could voice to you, that he gives to you when you're leaving at the end of your visit 🥺 anyways!! lmk if you want to be tagged for any continuations pwease i'd value ur engagement very much !!

SUMMARY — you and Satoru falling in love despite a language barrier.

WARNINGS — slight underlying romantic tension between you and Suguru sooo potential love triangle?! one bed trope (you + Satoru), ik google translate is inaccurate but 🤷‍♀️ oh well

WORDCOUNT ≈ 4.6k

🍒 — J ⋅ reblogs and comments help a lot ! enjoy reading :)

A continuation of this post

Satoru's never really been in love before.

Sure, in high school he experienced crushes and a handful of dates. But the crushes were shallow and short-lived, and the dates were lousy and forgettable.

But you? Well it's funny, see, you live on a whole different continent and can't speak his language, and yet to him you're as unforgettable as the scent of spring.

His feelings for you seep into his skin slowly, beautifully; and yet he can't express a single one to you because he too can't speak your language.

During late-night video calls, Suguru tries to bridge the gap between you and his best friend. And in your group chat, both Shoko and Suguru combine their skills to help you and Satoru understand each other. They do it because they see how badly the both of you want to know more about each other; especially Satoru.

Satoru has never been so infatuated before; never quite so curious and unashamedly intrigued with someone else. You're all he thinks about day and night.

When you speak, he desperately strains his ears. When you text, he consults the dreaded Google translate. And he's always nagging Suguru to translate everything, because he wants to know your every thought and expression.

Around a year and a half after meeting you, Satoru realizes something when he's lazing in his bed with his fluffy white cat curled up on his stomach as it rises and falls with his gentle breathing.

He likes you.

On call, when you giggle at the cat's fluffy tail blocking the webcam, Satoru thinks;

あなたの笑いが大好きです I love your laugh.

When talking about you with Suguru, he receives a little teasing smirk from him.

あなたは彼女が好きですよね？ You like her, huh?

During lonely nights, he scrolls through your socials and stares longingly at photos of you, ones where you're hanging out with your real-life friends or family.

とても羨ましいです。私も彼女に近づきたいです。 I'm so jealous. I want to be close to her, too.

Listening to you attempt to speak Japanese on a call while him and Suguru are on a walk around Tokyo, he thinks;

私の言語であなたの声を聞くのが大好きです。 I love hearing your voice in my language.

Any photo of your face that you personally sent him, he looks at with heart eyes and saves immediately.

キスしたい。 I want to kiss you.

He'd be lying if he said he never pressed his lips to his screen and closed his eyes, pretending he was kissing you.

Satoru thinks poetically about you. He pens down these elaborative thoughts into his diary that he plans to give you one day. Maybe then you can get an idea of how deeply he thinks about you.

But even if he could speak English fluently, or you could speak Japanese fluently, he's sure neither language could be descriptive enough when it comes to his feelings for you.

He tries so hard to learn some phrases in anticipation of your upcoming visit, but all he can say when he meets you for the first time at Haneda airport is;

"Hi."

And he waves cutely.

"Hi!" you giggle, waving back.

And all at once, there's a bunch of thoughts buzzing in his head. He's looking at you like he's captivated. Even if he knew any solid English, he's sure he'd be speechless anyways.

実物の彼女はもっと美しい、信じられない。 She's even more beautiful in real life, I can't believe it.

彼女が何を言っているのか全く分かりませんが、いい感じですね。耳元で聞く彼女の声だけが私が望んでいたものです。 I have no idea what she's saying, but it sounds good. Her voice in my ear is all I wanted.

なぜ彼女は私ではなくスグルを抱きしめたのでしょうか？その瞬間は混乱の渦だったのでしょうか、それとも彼女は私を抱きしめたくなかったのでしょうか？ Why did she hug Suguru instead of me? Was that moment a whirlwind of confusion, or did she just not want to hug me?

When you excuse yourself to go to the bathroom, the boys wait for you in their seats at the little airport cafe. The neon sign glows yellow above, plants hang from the ceiling; it's a busy place.

They're talking about you over their beverages.

Satoru groans dramatically, throwing his head back, fluffy hair flopping cutely.

"Oh Satoru," Suguru chuckles, "What's the matter? Why the groan?"

"I want to hug her."

Suguru's heart melts. "Then hug her. She doesn't bite. I think she wants to hug you, too."

"But then why didn't she hug me like she hugged you earlier? Maybe I don't seem huggable to her..."

"It was a rushed moment, she had just arrived you know? Don't overthink. Satoru, just hug her."

Satoru lets out a long, stifled noise that's a mix between a groan and a sigh. He tilts his whole body back, balancing precariously on the plastic chair. Rubbing his eyes until he sees some phosphenes, a habit he did when he was nervous. Suguru notices.

"Are you nervous?" Suguru asks tenderly.

"Really nervous. She's prettier in real life. I don't know what to do with myself." he admits quietly.

"Yeah, she is, haha. Oh, there she's coming back now — や!"

"や!" you returned, giggling.

That was Suguru's 'thing'. It's cuter in real life, seeing how his eyes curve up into a smile when he says it. There are details on his face that you didn't notice through the screen; he has an attractive trio of moles on his lower cheek, and when he smiles the left side of his lips curls up more to reveal some of his upper gum.

Satoru's heart beats a little harder when you sit closer to him. He's thinking;

Yay, 彼女は私の隣に座っています。 She is sitting next to me.

"Suguru, ask her if we're taller than she expected." Satoru asks suddenly. You just hear his voice next to you and it gives you tingles — there was a quality to his voice that only revealed itself in real life. An endearing voice crack accompanies the middle of his sentence.

"Satoru asks if we're taller than you expected." Suguru asks you, habitually resting his chin on the palm of his hand while taking a long sip on his iced tea.

"Yeah! Actually, I was surprised, because I thought you and Satoru were the same height, but Satoru is very slightly taller... " you say.

Satoru is listening curiously, waiting expectantly for Suguru's translation. And then it comes, and Satoru smirks at you.

"Yes." he nods, "(Suguru, how do I say I'm taller?) — I'm taller."

You let out a short and sweet ha-hah that makes even Suguru's heart feel a little something.

Each time you laugh, Satoru's thinking;

私はあなたの笑いが本当に大好きです。。。 I really love your laugh.

You three leave the airport for your hotel, so you can check in. It's almost midnight, your plane landed late. Though he thought he'd be tired, considering he's not a night owl like his best friend, Satoru is energetically striding next to you, teasing you and laughing with you and throwing hand gestures to try and communicate better. Suguru's fondly eyeing the two of you out, admiring how your chemistry comes to life so beautifully — this is what his best friend wished about for so long; to be at your side. Now he's getting to truly enjoy your company. The dreamy-eyed exchanges between you and Satoru make Suguru think that the two of you ought to be in a novel one day, with how pure and wholesome your story is unfolding right now.

Though, he can pick up on Satoru's frustrated stuttering when he fails to communicate with you. Suguru doesn't mind being the translator, nor does he mind bridging the gap between the two of you; Satoru's nagging can never bother him.

They help you out when you're checking into reception at the hotel, but then suddenly...

"... oh, that's not good. He said your reservation got cancelled." Suguru tells you.

"What!" you panic, "Why?"

Suguru inquires further for you, and finds out that it's because of overbooking.

So you groan, the three of you walking out of the hotel lobby, standing in the glow of the light coming through its glass doors. Satoru silently offers to take care of your suitcase, attentively noticing how tired you'd become from pulling it around.

"Thank you..." you tell him.

"Mm." he nods.

Suguru is quick to offer that you stay at their apartment. "... if you're comfortable with it. Just for the night, until you can find another booking elsewhere. Or if you want to stay by us for the whole month, that's okay too — just mind the cat."

"Suguru... thank you. I'm sorry to be intrusive."

"You're not being intrusive, don't worry. And anyways, I think Satoru will be excited to know that you're staying with us. He was bummed out when he learned that you were gonna stay at this hotel, since it's a bit far from our apartment."

Satoru looks at the two of you curiously after he hears his name mentioned.

"She's staying with us." Suguru tells him. You quietly appreciate his voice, and how soft it becomes when he speaks to Satoru.

"Yay!" Satoru says with a very cute thumbs up. You can hardly believe that this man is older than you.

"Tell him he's cute." you request to Suguru.

"Tell him yourself." he teases.

"No! That's embarrassing! Ah, never mind."

Satoru already knows what you said, though, his ears picked up on that he's cute and your words repeat in his head like his favorite song while the three of you walk the streets at night. He feels dreamy.

There is something indescribably welcoming about Japan that you realize while heading across the street, looking at the faces passing by. It's clean. The lights glow warm and bright. The buildings stand tall, but not intimidatingly so. When you pass by chattering people, you wish you knew what was being said.

The three of you have to take the train to get to their apartment. While boarding it, a cute little exchange happens between you and Satoru that you can't quite explain, but it makes the two of you laugh shyly and look away.

Now squished into a seat at the very edge, another cute little exchange happens between you and him. Satoru is talking up at Suguru, who opted for holding onto the train handles after giving up his seat for an older woman.

Satoru uses lots of hand gestures even when speaking Japanese, his big hands fly around, dramatizing whatever he's saying — and then he accidentally flattens his palm right on top of the back of your hand.

Satoru's quick to remove his hand and giggle it off, but Suguru is even quicker to let out a teasing "ooh, cute" when it happens, so the two of you get completely flustered.

Satoru's heart thumps and throbs for the whole train ride. You swear you can feel a tension between your hands as they rest palms-flat on the seats, less than an inch away; you can feel his warmth, and he can feel yours.

But then the train ride is over, and before you know it Suguru's thumbing his key into the lock of the apartment door. It rattles, the door opens, and the automatic light comes on in the genkan.

"Just a sec — gonna see where Mint is. Make yourself at home." Suguru tells you quickly, voice shaking as he shimmies out of his shoes, and then he disappears down the hall to find the mentioned cat.

Satoru hears the name 'Mint' and gets the idea of what Suguru said based on that.

He nimbly unlaces his Converse, and leans down to neatly tuck them into the corner of the genkan, purposefully next to your shoes.

Then he straightens his body out, and you two have a small comedic exchange as you both notice the height difference between you and him.

"Uh..." he looks down at you. "Water?" he asks after thinking for a moment.

Your heart lurches at his thoughtfulness. "Yes, please."

"Mhm." he hums self-consciously.

He wonders if his accent sounds weird to you. Suguru's reassured him plenty times in the past that it sounds cute and oddly British, but he doesn't really believe that.

Satoru leads the way into the kitchen, clicking the lights on as he goes. And you follow. Such a simple moment makes him feel fluttery.

And then you drink some water with him in the tiny, cramped kitchen that's much too small to accommodate two people. You wonder how Suguru and Satoru can stand in it at the same time if even you and Satoru can't manage it without bumping elbows. He chuckles apologetically.

Ah, the kitchen scene. What a movie scene it is between the two of you.

"Uhhh..." he seems to be skimming his mind for any piece of English vocabulary, getting nervous as you blink at him, waiting for him to speak.

He holds up one finger, then pulls his phone out of the pocket of his jeans. He's a very simple, yet stylish dresser; jeans and a white shirt that's much too big for him. He is truly so opposite to his best friend's fashion that it makes you smile to yourself. Suguru's quite showy with his style, and you can tell he puts a lot of effort into his hairbun, too. But Satoru? Messy hair, in fact so messy that it looks like bed hair even though he did especially brush it and style it for you.

"Okay..." Satoru mumbles, typing things into his phone. Then he gives it to you, and you look at the screen.

飛行は乱気流でしたか？ Was the flight turbulent?

You type your response. He watches you. And oh how he watches you — he looks lovestruck. His eyes are full of wonder. His mind reads like poetry.

He reads your reply when you hand him back his phone.

It was. I realized that I hate airplanes. そうでした。私は飛行機が嫌いだということに気づきました。

He nods. "Scary."

"Yeah." you nod too.

Satoru hesitates.

He's still bitter that Suguru got a hug and he didn't; it's on his mind. He just wants to ask you, but a deep-rooted shyness holds him back.

That is, until you look up at him.

あなたは私を見上げようとしてとても頑張っています。かわいい。 You're trying so hard to look up at me. Cute.

His whole body buzzes with the desire to hug you. He's had dreams of meeting you in person, of hugging you, of kissing you.

The two of you feel your bodies naturally pull together, as if subconsciously desiring to embrace, so it just happens. It just happens.

And you hug and he thinks to himself;

これは私が今まで経験した中で最高の瞬間です。 This is the best moment I've ever experienced.

You can feel his heartbeat and he can feel yours. For a moment, the world around you becomes a dream; and you and Satoru are the only things that truly exist. Everything in the world except your love seems fake, unreal.

You hear him swallow like he's choking up. Then he sniffles a bit.

泣かないで。泣かないで。 Don't cry. Don't cry.

くそー、泣いちゃうよ。彼女はとても柔らかいです Damn, I'm gonna cry. She's so soft.

And you break away to laugh sympathetically, he feels a bit embarrassed.

He's crying so softly that it makes your heart lurch.

Your bodies aren't separate for long, because he dives right back in for another hug in an attempt to quench the thirst from deep within his desirous soul. This time he squeezes tighter; you can feel the tones of his torso and the firmness of his bicep muscles as they press against your sides.

He sniffles again, the sound makes your heart lurch again.

あなたに言いたいことがたくさんあるのですが、どうやって伝えればいいのか分かりません。 There are so many things I want to say to you, but I don't know how.

でも、このハグで私の感情を感じていただければ幸いです。 But, I hope you can feel my emotions in this hug.

And you can; that's how closely connected the two of you feel in that moment. You can feel the emotions radiating from him, permeating throughout the air and seeping into your skin.

You can feel that he likes you. And he can feel that you like him back. It's fascinating to you, because before him you've always been saying I love you and I like you and will you date me? to people, or been on the receiving end of those phrases. But those words are unnecessary for you and Satoru. In fact, they're futile.

If he would say I love you, it would just be an accessory to his already evident love.

Then a sudden embarrassment pries the two of you apart, and you both start giggling to cope with it.

"Sorry... a bit much?" he mutters, half-sure of what he's saying.

"No, not enough." you tell him. He kinda understands what you meant, and feels fluttery. His nose is reddened from crying. He quickly pats his tears off with the base of his hand.

It's like your bodies hate being apart now, you and him can tell by each other's body language. Now at least that's one language both of you became fluent in, despite only being in each other's company for a few hours.

He looks at you. And you flick your brows up and make a funny face, as if to ask him what he's looking at. And he looks away with a bashful laugh, as if to apologize.

The romantic tension is so thick in the air between you two that when Suguru comes back, he feels it hit him like a wave.

おお。さっきまで彼女と一緒にいたとき、世界の存在を忘れていた。 Oh. When I was with her just a moment ago, I forgot the existence of the world.

"That cat is a menace. A menace." Suguru complains.

"What happened?" you ask.

" 'Got scratched." he holds up his hand, showing off the Hello Kitty adhesive across his knuckles. "Anyways, It's late. Are you tired? Satoru's gonna sleep with me, and you can have his room. Unless you want my room. I dunno. You can choose."

"Ooh... I haven't seen your room now that I think about it, except for that one video of you two pillow fighting."

Satoru's already starting to feel a small bit of jealousy and frustration, because he has no idea what you two are talking about.

Suguru's quick to notice this, and translates with a quick tongue.

"Tell her my bed's comfier than yours." Satoru says smirkingly.

"Wow, rude — Satoru says my bed is comfier than his." Suguru lies, refraining from laughing at his own mischievousness.

"Ah, I don't care, I'll be grateful for any bed... ah, actually can I use the bathroom to freshen up a bit?"

"Like I said, make yourself at home."

"Thanks..." you smile.

So Suguru leads the way to the bathroom for you, and you lock yourself in there to freshen up for a while. You sniff your shirt and smile — you smell Satoru's subtle scent on it.

The boys are fussing over the bed situation.

"Don't we have an extra futon stuffed away somewhere, the one Shoko left here?" Satoru thinks out loud.

"Ohhh, you're right." Suguru nods, looking for it.

"Anyways you embarrassed me!" Satoru pouts.

"Haha, did I?" Suguru pulls out the futon from the tippy-top shelf.

"Yeah, earlier you showed off how good you can speak English." Satoru grumbles.

They're softly grunting as they ruffle blankets and pillows.

"Oh, I guess I did. Sorry." he admits, "gosh, maybe if you would have learned a little something in preparation for her visiting then — "

"I did learn stuff! I learned... how to write." Satoru interrupts defensively.

"But why didn't you learn some common phrases?"

"I don't like my accent when I speak, alright." Satoru admits, huffing as he dives into the bed, ruining the artful neatness that Suguru just put so much effort into creating

"Okay, fair enough — oh my god, why would you do that, are you twelve? Oh hey, Y/n." Suguru smiles. "Satoru ruined your bed."

"Oh — two futons? Am I sharing with you or Satoru?"

Satoru rears his head at you from the pillow, looking very cat-like right then with his fluffy white hair. You can tell he's struggling to stay awake as the hour pushes onto two in the morning. He hasn't stayed up this late since he had a video game addiction and played all night with Suguru. Keeping his eyes open was a grand feat.

"No, you get to have two futons." Suguru teases, "Princess treatment."

"Haha, shut up. Be serious."

"Well, you can share with whoever you want or Satoru and I can sleep here together. Whatever you're more comfortable with."

"Didn't you once complain that you hate sharing beds with people?" you giggle.

"Mmm, yeah, but I don't mind if it's with you. Satoru's a cuddler. He also kicks in his sleep."

"That's so cute — well, let's ask — ... hey, I think Satoru fell asleep. Satoru?"

And surely enough, Satoru is asleep; he fell asleep to the sound of your voice without meaning to.

"He's not used to staying awake this late." Suguru tells you, softening his voice so he doesn't wake the cat Satoru.

"That's so sweet. He's really so sweet." you tilt your head admiringly.

You and Suguru are just alone there together, gushing over how cute Satoru looks when he has his cheek squishing into a pillow and his lips pouty and puffy in that sleep-like manner.

A long, nice silence settles in the room. You admit to Suguru that you're feeling a bit too wired to sleep just yet.

"I can stay up with you."

"No, it's okay. You look tired, you should sleep."

"I just always look tired. The night is early, anyways. I usually brood until four in the morning, you know me."

You smile at him, and he has to look away before he swoons. There's a small tension between the two of you, but the both of you force yourselves to ignore it.

The two of you assume a comfortable position on the futons, chatting as if you're not emotional about the fact there's no screen separating the two of you.

"Satoru's never been an insomniac, but in the week leading up to your arrival, he couldn't sleep at all. We'd stand in the kitchen together at midnight, talking about all the things we planned to do when you got here. I've never seen him so excited in a long time... it's really heartwarming to see."

"Really?" you blink at Suguru. He side-eyes you for a prolonged moment, then looks at Satoru who continues to sleep indisturbedly.

"Yeah. You know, he's such an idiot, actually. Because I told him to learn some phrases and instead he learned how to write English."

"That's a start! I mean, look at me, I can barely say a damn thing..." you mutter with lighthearted shame.

"Maybe that doesn't matter at all... I mean, with the kind of chemistry you and Satoru share, there's not much need for words." Suguru says.

You feel your face warm up a bit when he says that. "What do you mean?"

He wiggles his brows. "Oh come on, you know what I mean. I could feeeeel the tension in the kitchen earlier."

"Huh!"

He smirks and begins to tease, "I've never seen two people flirt so much and yet use no words."

You chuckle shyly. "Really...?" you look fondly at Satoru, who's become more curled up by now, face half-hidden under the blanket.

There's a long silence. You're looking at Satoru. Suguru's looking at you as if spellbound. And then he snaps out of it, and reanimates himself.

"Anyways... we should probably get some good sleep if we wanna drag you around on a tour tomorrow. I want your first impression of my home to be how good the food tastes here."

"Ooh, a food tour around Tokyo? Sounds nice. Won't it be too hot tomorrow, though?"

"It'll be fine." he says surely, "Anyways, are you sure you'll sleep here with Satoru? Like I said, he's a cuddler. He will cuddle you in your sleep."

"It's okay. I don't mind." You giggle.

"M'kay, goodnight then."

"Mhm, see you tomorrow." you say, standing with Suguru.

"Wow." he suddenly exclaims when he looks at you.

"Hm?"

Suguru stops on his way out the door, he seems taken aback. "I can't believe you're actually right here. I'm so used to pressing a red button and you vanishing from my screen." he laughs in disbelief.

"Yeah, I'm still a bit in disbelief, too. I feel like I'm in a dream and not standing right in front of you."

Suguru smirks. "Mm... well."

He leans down to hug you, pressing your smaller body against his chest with a lovingness that you never envisioned he would possess.

"Have you ever tried to hug someone in a dream? It's pretty difficult." he jokes.

"N-no, haha." you chuckle nervously against his neck. He feels your laughter on his skin, and pulls away before he lets that tingly feeling spread across his chest.

"Goodnight." he murmurs.

"Goodnight." you mumble back.

You're glad when he disappears into his own room, because you felt like you were melting in his alluring presence. A boy as sultry as that requires you to take a breather.

Satoru draws your attention by letting out a sigh in his sleep. You head into the bed.

Though there's a distance between you two, somehow it closes, and Satoru rolls right over onto your futon.

Oh, he is indeed a cuddler, you think. You feel a warm arm suddenly hugging your waist as Satoru changes position, and you hear sleepy lip smacks; his face is very close. You can feel his sweet, warm breath on your face.

There's a comforting, human intimacy about sharing a bed with him. He's so gentle when he sleeps. His hair falls over his eyes, his lashes shudder as his eyes do that sleepy twitching thing.

He looks angelic.

You wonder what dreams he's having. And well, actually he's having dreams of kissing you. How coincidental that you were staring blinkingly at his pouty lips, wondering just how long it will take for the both of you to just — just kiss.

Roaming his features in the dark, you find aspects of his beauty that you never saw before through the screen. He's got a tiny scar above his eyebrow, that must be the one Suguru told you about — the one he got as a child when he fell out of a tree. You remember making a joke "but I thought cats always land on their feet?" and when Suguru translated that, Satoru laughed.

There's slight freckling under his eyes, and slight indents of eyebags stemming from the inner corner of his eye.

And yes, how could you not admire those lashes. They were more beautiful in person. You could count each one if you wanted to, that's how closely he slept to you.

Listening to his soft breaths nearly lulls you to sleep, but then he suddenly cuddles closer and whines in his dream.

Oh, that's close close, you think.

His torso is pressing completely against your side, his body melting into yours like it was made for you. Two puzzle pieces meant to fit together.

His leg comes over yours, and his muscular thigh nestles between your two thighs. It makes you aware of just how attractively long his legs are.

He completely entrapped you with his sleepy embrace.

The warmth of his gentle breathing tickles your cheek, and the tip of his nose slightly dents into your skin. Now that's when you fall asleep. When he's completely melted against you, snuggled up like a cat.

He stirs awake after a few hours of heavy sleep, and for a split second in that groggy wakeful mind fog, for some reason he thinks he's laying next to his wife. So he squeezes you tenderly and cuddles more affectionately.

Oops, he thinks, and pulls away a little out of embarrassment. But once he falls back into dream land, his body subconsciously goes right back in for those sleepy cuddles.

Now the morning dawns over, and you wake up to two bleary, blinking blue eyes right up close to your face...

Do not plagiarize / repost / translate / copy layouts / etc.

Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.

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bizarrelittlemew · 6 months

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🖌️ BEFORE & AFTER COLORING CHALLENGE 🎨

tagged by @blakbonnet, thank you <3 gonna tag (with no pressure!) @saltpepperbeard @darkinerry @kiwistede @milkovichy (if you've already been tagged I'd love to see your posts <3)

everyone should read Jodi's excellent post about giving credit to gifmakers <3

AND since I've also had to read comments like "what's the big deal, it only takes five minutes" with my own two eyes, let's do an experiment, shall we? I'll make the same gif in 5 minutes with the first online gif converter that pops up (cheating a bit, since I already cut the clip and adjusted the frame rate so it runs smoother. also I used about 8 minutes minus the time it took to upload the video because I haven't used ezgif.com before) and through my usual methods ✌️ here they are:

and you know, the first gif is perfectly fine!! especially if you really just want to show a quick clip or need a reaction gif. BUT the second one is the kind that usually gets stolen (reposted without credit). we all like pretty gifs, and the best way to get more of those is to appreciate the people who make them (reblog!! give credit if you use them!!), because seeing them stolen is deeply demotivating - we make them to share excitement and love for shows with fellow fans, and you're taking that away from us when you don't credit. making gifs is work (and a skill that takes practice), and there's a person behind every gif (even the 5 min gif converter one), they don't just magically appear ✌️ give credit!!

#tag games #tag game #ofmd s2 spoilers #ofmd #ofmd s2 #ofmd gifs #our flag means death #focusing on some of the dark scenes here (and there are a lot of those in s2 compared to s1) since the daylight ones are usually easier #which is why i chose a daylight scene for the experiment not to be too hard on the gif converter lmao #the gif converter gif also doesn't feel like “mine” in the sense that it doesn't have my coloring style you know?#everyone's got their own style like with any other kind of art

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the-californicationist · 3 months

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Fluffuary 2024

Not sure if anyone cares about this but...

I am not a fluff author. I don't think anyone who reads my work regularly will be shocked by that statement. But, I am trying to grow and get better at writing in general. So! Fluffuary.

I'm planning on tagging all of these with #the californicationist does fluff, if you want to follow along. I'll also be cross-posting to AO3 as usual. AO3 interactions are very welcomed and appreciated.

Pretty sure these will be all Price/FReader just like the Kinktober 2023 collection I worked on last year, but! There are two slots open for reader requests, so please shoot me a message/ask if you have some fluff in mind. If you could label it "Fluffuary Request", that might help me find it in the stack of asks.

Restrictions: There are certain kinks I avoid, certain dynamics I avoid, I don't write about minors or for minors, and I don't write Graves or Makarov... but (almost) anyone else is fair game! Also, if you want NB, FTM, MTF, or MReader, that is perfectly fine and I'll do my best.

Please understand that if I don't answer your ask, it was NOT a negative thing. Sometimes I miss them, and sometimes I'm unsure how to achieve them. I'm still very much a new writer, so thank you for being gentle with me. ✌️🩷

#the californicationist does fluff #fluffuary 2024 #captain price fluff #john price fluff #call of duty fanfic #cod mw2 #cod mwii #captain john price #cod #john price #captain price #captain price x reader #captain price x you #john price x reader #captain john price x reader #john price fanfiction #john price fic #captain johnathan price

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lipglossanon · 4 months

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Calling Dr. Love

*.*——— 🩺 ———*.*

For waterfalls04 who requested Dr. Leon eons ago 🫣 Thank you for your patience!! I hope you enjoy it! 💜

Doctor!Leon S. Kennedy x fem!reader (one shot)

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, doctor/patient, dubcon (reader’s into it!), flirting, teasing, fingering, dirty talk, unprotected sex, creampie; also a fun little Silent Hill cameo 🤭

Not proofread ✌️

Title from Calling Dr. Love by KISS

*.*——— 🩺 ———*.*

You fiddle with your phone for the upteenth time in the short span of a few minutes. The signal is still stuck at one bar and the wifi is down according to the receptionist. Sighing, you grab one of the magazines left lying out on the small table near your chair and idly flip through it.

It’s just a routine checkup, you think to yourself, nothing crazy. The anxiety of being in a doctor's office doesn’t abate at all, making your leg bounce as you skim through articles on housekeeping that do not hold your attention.

“Ma’am, can you sign a couple of papers for me?” The receptionist calls out, a polite smile on her face.

You glance down at her name tag before giving her a quick smile, “No problem, Lisa.”

You step up to the counter and she points out the few lines you need to initial before signing your name along with the date at the bottom. As you repeat the process on the other pages of paperwork, you catch movement out of the corner of your eye.

A tall and handsome man is leaning against the counter you're at; his attention is on the other receptionist as Lisa is still busy helping you out. Quickly giving the man, who you can only assume is a doctor due to his attire, a subtle once over, you feel a mild attraction flutter in your chest but push it away.

“I think you’re my one o’clock, right?”

You feel as he shifts closer to you, hip still braced against the counter as he props his chin up on his palm, elbow seated on the surface next to your paperwork. He’s so close you catch a whiff of sharp coffee and notes of a cologne that makes you want to press your face in his chest.

Glancing up, you make eye contact, gaze flitting around his sharp cheekbones and pouty lips before meeting his blue eyes once more.

“Are you Dr. Kennedy?”

He grins, eyes crinkling and making him look boyish and sweet, “That’s me! I’m new on staff and since your primary doctor is on vacation, I’ll be the one seeing you today.”

You bite your bottom lip out of nervousness and feel your heart thump harder when his eyes track the movement, pupils widening. Letting go of your lip, his eyes jump back up to yours.

“Is that okay?” His eyes are darker than before and you can feel your palms sweat.

“U-uh, yeah. That’s f-fine with me,” you finally stutter out, giving him a weak laugh.

“Good,” his smile widens, “a little nervous?”

You nod, pen hovering over the line for your name, “Yeah, always a little nervous at the doctor’s office.”

He rubs a warm palm down your bicep, “No need to be, I promise you’re in good hands.”

Your nipples stiffen in your bra as his big hand pats your arm.

Dropping his arm back down, his fingers skim across your side leaving chill bumps in their wake. He crowds a little more into your space and your eyes dart around to the receptionists, but they’re completely oblivious to what’s happening.

You peek at him from the corner of your eye and see that he’s reading over your paperwork.

“Since it’s just a routine checkup, we can start out in my office and if it seems you need a physical, we’ll move it into a room,” he murmurs at you, low voice making your clit throb in time with your heartbeat.

“Sounds g-good,” you busy yourself by finishing the last of the signatures.

He clears his throat, “I can take her back now, if that’s okay, Lisa?”

Lisa walks over and scans your paperwork before nodding, “Sounds good,” she gives you another smile, “you’re all squared away!”

You thank her and follow Leon, eyes taking note of his shoulder blades pressing through his white coat showcasing his broad back. Your panties stick uncomfortably to your wet pussy making you self conscious as Leon holds open his office door for you to enter first.

You take in the sparse decorations and potted plant in the corner. His desk holds a computer and a day calendar with a cork board behind it all tacked with dozens of pages and sticky notes.

He points to two stiff looking chairs in front of his desk.

“We’ll just have a little chat before we get started with taking your blood pressure and temperature and all that,” he smiles and you return it.

“I find it helps put nervous patients at ease when you just talk before jumping right into the appointment.”

Your smile softens as you both take a seat, with him sitting next to you, “Thank you, Dr. Kennedy. I really appreciate it.”

“It’s not a problem,” he pats your bare leg from where your skirt rode up, fingers subtly digging into the skin.

Your heart rate kicks up again, skin tingling as he keeps his hand on your leg, dangerously close to your thigh.

“So how are you?” His thumb rubs back and forth, “didn’t have any problems coming in?”

“Um, good. I’m good! And n-no, even parking was easy this time,” you nervously giggle, cunt pulsing as his hand squeezes your leg.

“Good, that’s good,” he smiles, “I know it can be a bitch finding somewhere close some days.”

You laugh weakly before biting your lip as his hand shifts upward a little more, long fingers gripping your thigh now.

“You seem tense,” he murmurs, gaze locked on where his hand is rubbing your leg, “lot of tense muscles here.”

“Guess it’s just nerves,” you squeak out, body feeling hot as he massages your thigh.

“That just won’t do,” he grins at you, fingers digging in more roughly and making you whine, “poor thing, must feel so nice to get some attention on this muscle.”

You nod, pussy flooding your panties with slick to the point it’s leaking through the fabric.

“Pull that skirt up,” he tells you firmly, “it’ll help me get a better look at the issue.”

With shaky hands, you grab the hem of your skirt and tug it up, embarrassment making your chest feel hot as your soaked panties come into view.

“Oh, now I see,” he rumbles low in his chest, “I know exactly what the problem is.”

His hand leaves your thigh to swipe across the gusset of your panties, thumb digging into your wet slit.

“Pussy needs some attention, huh,” he smirks, “is this the whole reason for your appointment?”

“No,” you whimper, parting your legs even further for his greedy fingers to run across your clothed cunt, “Dr. Kennedy, please.”

He groans, pushing your panties to the side to slide his fingers through the slick covering your pussy lips. His middle and ring finger slip into your cunt fluttering against your walls as he scissors you open.

“Can barely pull my fingers out,” he teases, “little pussy just keeps sucking them right back in. You feeling that good, gorgeous?”

Panting, you nod your head, “F-feels really good.”

A low moan escapes your lips as he starts fucking his fingers in and out of your pussy, palm smacking against your clit just right and making your toes curl in their shoes.

“Want me to stuff my cock in your cute pussy?” Leon leers at you, using his free hand to unbutton his slacks, “promise it’ll feel even better than my fingers.”

You whine when you see him pull his thick, uncut cock free from his underwear, mouth watering at the precum glistening on the tip.

“Please,” you finally whisper, eyes dragging up his body to meet his heavy gaze, “wanna feel it.”

He slips his fingers free from your pussy leaving your hole clenching around nothing.

“Get on the floor,” he demands, pulling your panties down, “gonna stuff this fat cunt like she deserves.”

You shift from the chair to the floor, kicking your shoes off and nearly getting your underwear off— leaving them to hang around one ankle while Leon moves himself between your thighs.

He smacks his fat cock down onto your clit making your hips buck upwards. Teasingly, he presses the leaky tip into your pussy before pulling away to rub across your pussy lips. You lock your ankles behind his back and he chuckles, finally pressing his dick into your sopping wet cunt.

“Oh you’re so tight,” he groans excitedly, “and wet. You really needed this, didn’t you, pretty girl?”

“Uh huh,” you whine, legs locked around his waist so tight he can only grind his cock inside your fluttering cunt, “needed it.”

“What did ya need?” His pupils have swallowed most of the blue in his eyes, “say it. Tell me you needed a fat cock to fuck your hot wet cunt.”

You moan, pussy throbbing as he ruts against that sweet spot at the front of your cunt, “Oh, I needed it. Need your fat cock in my pussy, Dr. Kennedy.”

He humps forward, burying his face in your neck with a moan as his cock kicks inside your clenching heat.

“So good for me,” he grunts, hands digging into your hips, “gonna fill you up, cum all in this pretty pussy.”

Your nails scratch a hot trail down his back as you gasp.

“You can’t,” you whimper out, cunt leaking more slick at the thought of this handsome man stuffing you with cum, “we shouldn’t.”

He laughs, slipping his hand down your hip until his thumb rubs across the hood of your clit.

“You say that, but you squeezed me so deliciously when I mentioned it,” he rubs soft barely there circles on your pudgy bud, “trust me, I know what you need. I’m your doctor.”

You keen high in your throat, hips bucking up to work his cock even deeper into your spasming hole.

“Thatta girl,” he coos, rocking his dick in and out of your messy cunt, “such a drippy little pussy,” he smirks, “needs a hot load to plug her up, make her feel all nice and full.”

You nod, shamelessly rolling your hips up to meet his thrusts, “Need it so bad, Doctor.”

“I know,” he simpers down at you, a mean little smile coming over his face, “think you’ll have to come in at least twice a week. Gotta keep that pussy in check.”

He pulls out completely making you moan at how empty your cunt feels without his thick cock splitting you open. Smacking the tip of his cock down on your pussy, he laughs at your whining.

“Roll over, gonna fuck you like the dirty slut you are,” he helps you onto your hands and knees, slapping a palm down on your ass.

He whistles to himself, “What a view. Y’know, you seem like a girl who’d like it doggy; a little slut who likes her hair pulled as her messy cunt gets pounded from the back.”

Your moan turns into a gasp as he bottoms out in one thrust, hips slapping against your ass while his balls smack your clit.

“Oh that’s it,” he groans, hips gripping the fat of your ass tightly, “gonna pound your little pussy so hard, gorgeous. Gonna bust a nut all in this tight hole.”

You shudder and drop down onto your elbows, “S’good, so good.”

He doesn’t even give you time to adjust and starts up a rough tempo, cock pistoning in and out of your soaked pussy. His balls slap against your clit as wet sloppy sounds of him fucking your drippy hole fills his office.

“Take it, take it,” he hisses under his breath, “god, such a fat and juicy pussy, baby, got me thinking about the next time we can do this.”

Drooling all over his office carpet, you weakly moan, body bouncing back against his rough thrusts. He reaches around and lightly taps his ring finger across your clit making you clench down hard around his dick.

“Oh yeah,” he laughs, “squeeze me, soak my cock so I can nut in this pussy.”

Your pussy flutters and clenches rhythmically around his cock as he teases and plays with your clit until you’re cumming so hard you see fireworks behind your eyelids. He keeps rubbing your clit as your orgasm crests, keeping you at the peak of pleasure until your body is jittering underneath him.

“Feels so good,” he pants, cock bullying in and out of your pussy, the sound of skin slapping getting rougher and louder, “keep clenching on me, I’m about to cum. Oh fuck, that’s it, that’s—“

He groans long and loud as he shoves his cock deep inside your pussy as you continue to milk his fat length. Shooting off hot rope after rope of cum, his sticky jizz paints your walls white until it’s slipping out alongside his throbbing dick. You feel his cock kick and spurt inside your used pussy until he finally pulls out with a growl.

His long fingers pull your pussy open to watch as his spend drips from your clenching hole.

“Mmm, now that’s hot,” he murmurs, waiting until more globs of cum ooze from your pussy to drip down your thighs.

He slips your panties up until it’s sitting snugly on your sticky pussy. Helping you up on shaky legs, he grins at your messy face.

“Let’s get you cleaned up before we schedule a follow up appointment with Lisa, eh?”

#lipglossanon #lipglossmasterlist #doctor!leon s kennedy #doctor!leon s kennedy smut #doctor!leon s kennedy x fem!reader #doctor!leon s kennedy x fem!reader smut #fem!reader #doctor/patient #dubcon #leon s kennedy smut #leon s kennedy x fem!reader #leon s kennedy x fem!reader smut

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piningprecussionist · 5 months

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Howdy, Pine! Can we get three headcanons for all your favorite Scott Pilgrim characters? :-)

Oh absolutely!!!! Lemme think for a minute...

((FUTURE FUTURE ME: I LITERALLY JUST PROCESSED YOU SAID THREE HEADCANONS IM SO SORRY--- YOU WILL UNDERSTAND 😭))

Okay I had a whole thing here, but we're gonna try this again but slightly more Hinged-- forcing myself to format so things don't get out of hand again. I will HAPPILY elaborate, though!!

((Whoop this is future me. This post is going to be so long if I dont do this, so I'm going to put this all under the cut! I'll try to remember to come back up here with the characters I talk about- alternative, should I not do that, maybe check the tags! I'll try to only tag the people I'm directly talking about))

KIM PINE

sexuality: very likely canonically Bi, I am a very big fan of her being a comp. het. lesbian, though (I get this both from my read of the comics/her character and just me Injecting myself into my favorite characters ✌️)

pronouns: she/her usually, but I think she'd be very open and vibe with they/them (me injecting myself again, but also she's just chill like that. I think she prefers if strangers use they/them for her, and her friends or partners use she/her. I'm undecided if she prefers her partners call her their girlfriend or their partner, though.)

Characters I think she has feelings for: RAMONA FLOWERS, Lisa Miller, (MAYBE Scott Pilgrim, still)

Elaboration on that:

I honestly think I can just. Point at some comic panels for Ramona. And the goat thing again. They make me Unhinged that's how canon that is.

Lisa!!! My beloved!!! I think she had a tiny crush on her in high school and had no idea that it was a crush until way later in life- maybe shortly after seeing her again, actually. But like. She's so obviously smiley and happy when she's around, I really can't help but read it that way! She, at the very least, gets an extreme mood boost in her presence, so she really likes having her around.

Scott Pilgrim.... *scrubbing at my face* okay. Okay. So, I have a couple different reads on her feelings for Scott, they're kind of complicated for me to dismantle. Especially since I haven't started my reread of book 6 (I've been giving my thumbs a break, which I am currently prolonging but I have been DYING for someone to ask me to talk about this series.) I'm going to go with my more canon read and leave it at that I think, because it's already becoming this text wall.

Scott was really important to her, I think. She's this aloof, sullen, bitchy girl and she knows it- and then this dorky idiot walks into her life and they really hit it off! They date, they have really sweet, private moments together- it's everything to her. It's someone loving her in spite of the hard shell she initially puts out, and managing to reach her soft, easily bruised heart in ways no one had before. But then he left so abruptly, and that heart was crushed under the weight of her own ribcage. I think she carried that hurt with her every day from that point- I don't imagine her having a particularly roaring love life after that. I think she kept that hurt bottled, and it made any relationships she DID attempt fall apart. It's a wound she's been nursing for way, way too long, and I think she knows that- that's why she wants so badly to forget about it. But then she goes to Toronto and runs into Scott again at the lowest point in his life, and she can't get herself to step away, because this is the only person who ever claimed to love her in a way she felt. I think her decision to stay was sort of... detrimental to her moving on. If she'd detatched herself and stepped back, maybe she could have moved on eventually- she could have worked on herself, or maybe lucked out and found someone who could get through those walls without a sledgehammer, and she would have been better for it. But that's not what happens. She stayed, and I think the longer she stayed the harder it became to keep herself completely shielding from him, because he's still that same goofy guy at his core- he's just a bit worse than she remembered him being. But damn near everything he does throughout the comics just continues to crush her until she HAS to leave- he can apologize, and she can accept it for the version of him she loved, but he's not enough to convince her to stay anymore. I'm going to cut my canon analysis there until I reread their next scene, rather than just continuing incase my thoughts have slightly changed, but like... man... they hurt me in a very unique way. If it was anyone other than Scott, it'd be tragic. (Maybe it still is, maybe that's the Kim Bitterness talking)

For a brief touch on my less canon take, with Kim being a lesbian: I think Scott would have been better placed in her life as a best friend than a partner, but when you're young, and honestly even when you're not all that young, emotional distinction like that can be so, so confusing. So all of the hurt remains very genuine, because she does love him, just not the way she thought she did.

((Because I do love the trans!fem Scott HC as well, I will say. I feel like it would be really, really funny for Kim to realize she's into women and be like "wow sure dodged round two of the Scott Pilgrim bullet" and then one day Scott shows up having started her transition and is like "Oh hey Kimmy!! I'm a lesbian AND a girl, like you now!!!" And Kim just. Crushes her drink or something in her hand like "oh no... oh no she's attractive again... FUCK FUCK FUCK." Obviously a lot more nuanced than that, though. I should probably clarify that I started answering this ask almost IMMEDIATELY after waking up and also BEFORE I've taken more pain meds. If this post has been or starts to become very scattered again, that's why lol.))

Bonus consideration: Hollie. I can dig her having a crush on Hollie, but I feel like it faded a little living with her, and then shattered entirely after the Jason Kim situation. Even an overwhelming attraction to women ain't savin that one, chief. That's just too severe a betrayal.

The Knives Situation: Oh Boy. So in the original answer for this I had a whole thing done up, lemme try to condense it. Basically, I think Kim woke up the next morning HORRIFIED by what she'd done. Like, dry heaving in the bathroom horrified. And this likely really hurt Knives's feelings, should she see! Which Kim would feel horrible about. I'm undecided on if she just runs from the situation before Knives can wake up, or if they have a sort of agrument/one-sided rant on Kim's part afterward where she just really tries to hammer home for Knives how not okay it was for them to do that- for HER to do that, given their ages and inherent power imbalance. In the event that this discussion happens, Knives absorbed none of it, and probably leaves that conversation a little wounded. I think it would proceed to play back in her mind when she and Stephen are talking at one of Julie's parties later on, though, and she'd probably approach Kim after that to thank her for being a reasonable adult about that, unlike how some of her friends had been. Once that understanding is reached, I think they could be good friends, although Kim probably teases her for how she started to dress like her after they first met.

Silly little things: If anyone's familiar with Night in the Woods, do you know the part where Mae's like "that's not drums... that's a computer..."? I feel like that has Kim energy. To me.

Also I think Kim sucks at Rockband- I know that releases like, way afterward or something so far as comic timeline goes, but bare with me, okay? It's my silly little headcanons! Anyway, she'd suck really, really bad on the drums, since so far as I can recall, they don't REALLY correspond with the music. If her friends force her to play, she demands either the mic or the bass, because "fuck you Scott, you try playing their stupid fucking drums." He proceeds to play flawlessly, much to her chagrin. She fairs better on the bass, but only a bit better than the drums, since her fingers aren't quite used to the movements.

Kim didn't think she liked cats for a while, mostly because she was only ever around them fleetingly, and generally in the homes of people who should have been cleaning their litter boxes more regularly. After hanging around Ramona's house more, though, she discovers she really love them! She feels a sort of kinship watching how they actually behave, and I think Gideon ends up warming to Kim very quickly, which probably helps with the very quick turnaround on her opinion. I think it'd be funny if sometimes, when Kim's over, Scott will try to beckon Gideon over to him for cuddles or affection, and the cat will just. Stare at him entirely unimpressed before jumping up into Kim's lap with exaggerated purring and chin rubbing before curling up for a "nap." Kim was in awe the first time this happened, and Ramona finds it ceaselessly amusing every time it happens. ((Funny additonal scenario: once after this happened Scott was whining to Ramona, who was coming to join them on the couch, looking generally very sad/cute/pathetic, and overcome with a sort of playful evil, Ramona proceeded to sit by and cuddle up to Kim as well. Kim immediately froze up and went bright red and wide eyed, Scott's jaw probably dropped before he dove into a theatrical, exaggerated spewl about the betrayal of it all, and Ramona just got to blissfully enjoy Kim cuddles while giggling at both of their reactions and petting Gideon.))

Conversely, I don't know how Kim feels about dogs. Like, I don't think she hates them or anything like that, but maybe they fill her with a sense of pity, for their associations with unwavering loyalty. Something about that specifically runs too close to things she considers about herself, at times, maybe. Idk, just kinda spit ballin here.

I think she does like rats! And mice. Idk. They're cute little guys and I like them, let me have this--

Oh man... just Kim's section is so long. And I have other characters to get to,,, buckle up I guess--- I mean, I did start with My Girl, so maybe the others will be shorter?

((This is future future me again... this is where I actually went back and processed the ask properly :') I have no words to describe my current emotional state beyond that I am trying really hard not to burst into a little fit of laughter at myself and wake my roommate--))

Three! Three headcanons!! I can do this (restraintrestraintrestraint)

Okay! Let's try being Normal About Media- and just as a note, they aren't really in any particular order, beyond Kim being the first because she IS legitimately my favorite, I think. Idk she's very Me.

Ramona Flowers

1. She doesn't really do labels, for things like her idenity; she does think pride flags are pretty, though. Scott got her a bi flag once and she decided to keep it and hang it in her room for this exact reason, though she did explain to him that she doesn't really consider herself anything but herself- Ramona Flowers. He's very understanding about that, although a little confused in the typical Scott manner! They eventually come around to just considering it being his flag, when he comes to terms with himself (yeah, spoilers, I HC him as bi)

2. Her hair actually does have magic properties to it that prevent it from getting absolutely butchered by all the bleaching she does- she doesn't know how or why, though. Maybe it's less magic and more to do with the supplies themselves? Unlike Scott, she's not as meticulous when it comes to reading the status effect labels on things she uses or consumes.

3. Of her former partners, I think she does have genuine lingering feelings for Roxie. So far as the comics/movie go, she simply repressed the hell out of them and plays the Deny Deny Deny! game, but so far as the show goes, I think she's come to terms with the fact that she still loves her, but horrifically fumbled her- she doesn't want to hurt Roxie like that again, so she's unlikely to ever try things again between them, I think. Not unless Roxie was the initiator, and even then, it'd take some coaxing.

Bonus 4. She absolutely has feelings for Kim. I feel like maybe further into their relationship she'd 100% ask Scott like "hey... you know your really hot friend Kim?" and proceed to discuss with him if being in a polyamorous relationship is something he could get behind. Maybe it'd happen after a period of time with Kim living with them too, or something.

Roxie Richter

1. She gets ALL the girls- all of them. She's an unholy TERROR for men where she lives, because she is notorious for giving women the night of their lives and making them never look back so far as dating men goes. Now, I don't think she deliberately breaks up people or goes after "straight" girls or anything, but it's probably something that's happened on accident before, so she's A Menace. I will say that she might deliberately swoop in and woo a girl she knows is taken if it's extremely clear that their relationship is just Not Right- like if she's seeing clear signs of abuse, or something. She isn't intending to get with these girls when she does this, but she is fully intending to get them out of shitty situations. She's even turned girls down after their (ex) boyfriends have stormed off in a huff, simply out of respect for them- she'll try to give them advice, and if they're adamant in trying New Venues, she might play matchmaker where she can, but she isn't really comfortable sleeping with them after doing stuff like that- to her, it feels gross, maybe even exploitative.

2. I actually don't know if this is meant to be canon or not, because it's noted alongside some of her sketches, but she's german/japanese in my eyes- but raised in the states. She knows English the best, and some German, but she doesn't really know much Japanese, much to her own agitation- she just struggles with it a lot, for whatever reason. She can kind of read some things, but if she tries to speak it she runs the risk of butchering the words. I personally further HC her dad as German and her mom as Japanese- dad by process of elimination, mom based loosely on how I read some of her and Ramona's conversations in the comics.

3. She is in fact whistling the tune in the show intending it to be from the Robin Hood movie- in fact, I think I'm going to HC it as one of her favorite animated films from childhood. (... do I HC her as a furry now?)

Lisa Miller

1. Disaster Bi! She's a bit of a Menace and she knows it; she likes to rile people up, but she can't really take what she dishes out. Like, if she'd done the kind of seductive teasing she does to Scott to Kim and received any sort of flirting back, her brain would shut down and she'd need to reboot. She doesn't know how to handle when someone else takes the reigns, which is why it was so easy and fun to play with Scott- he was too stunned/shy to play back, which she enjoys. Not to imply she doesn't enjoy having her brain melted a little, of course.

2. I think she makes it big after she heads to America! Or at least, bigger than she was. She sends her friends back in Toronto signed copies of movie posters and CDs and things when she can- she doesn't expect them to keep them, although she loves it when they do, but at least in Scott's case it's sort of a "incase of emergency, please sell" sort of situation. He does not, obviously. (Ramona probably does, though, both from admittedly petty lingering jealousy and because they just don't have room for all of it; Scott rarely seems to notice anyhow, and the money usually goes towards rent or random gifts for him anyhow)

3. I forget if everyone's sudden absence is noticed when they Poof briefly during the finalt episode of the show, but if it is I feel like Lisa starts to talk to Kyle, since he's in front of her, like "hey, what exactly happened there-" before looking out over everyone else who reappeared in their seats and noticing Scott is actually up there with them. She spends the rest of that night chatting up him and the league, and maybe even scores an in with Matthew for getting a foothold in her acting career!

Matthew Patel

1 . He absolutely has a dedicated cult following for his theatrical works, and it's warranted! He's genuinely good at what he does, and his passion is clear as day; any production is lucky to have him, and he knows it, which can kind of lead to butting heads behind the scenes. I feel like he might come across to his fellow performers as full of himself, especially given his proficiency with one man performances, but he truly is just deeply, deeply passionate about his work, and he wants to feel that passion with anyone he works with, too. He NEEDS his energy matched to feel like it's going to be a grand performance, and he simply doesn't notice how off-putting this can be for his coworkers as a result.

2. The demon hipster chicks have always been the visual age they are now, even when Matthew was a kid; he viewed them as older sisters growing up, and they're very protective of him perhaps as a result. At his current age, they're his best friends and personal body guards- they'll descend like rabid dogs on anyone that steps out of line around him, if he doesn't call them off. Sometimes it's a bit much for him, but they're usually pretty good about understanding when they do and don't need to interfere on his behalf.

3. Ya know I'm not sure if it's a HC I've seen at all but I could really vibe with trans!masc Matthew. I would love that for him, truly.

Scott Pilgrim

1. Look... I really love any trans!Scott headcanons. Like, any direction, I've said before; I genuinely have such a problem figuring out which version I enjoy best: he's trans!masc and has been all along, or trans!fem and Ramona eventually helps to crack that egg. But also, while I'm saying this, he is. So stupid. Not like maliciously stupid in this sense, absolutely not, but I feel like he's the kind of person to like. Run into someone from his past post their transition, with THEM coming up to HIM to be like "oh long time no see, Pilgrim," and then he would say something to the affect of "oh, you have the same last name as (DN)!!! Are you related? Kim, Kim!! Do you know if (DN) had any siblings?" while Kim and the other person just stare at him deadpan for a bit before bursting into laughter at his expense. He would then proceed to be really confused and just not get it, either until they explain it to him or like, he'd just suddenly sit up in a cold sweat later that night realizing what he did like "oh my GOD that WAS them, I said their dead name at them like seven times!! I am Going To Hell!!!" (And Ramona would just kind of blindly, lightly slap around in his general direction, like "honey you're not going to hell for basically affirming the effectiveness of their transition, go the fuck to sleep. They would've said something if it was a problem." Idk, that's just how he feels to me.)

2. When he has his own money for things, and space living with Ramona, he spends it on video games or video game related merch- it's probably a lot of patches and t-shirts, but I can see him starting to collect plushies, too! Like some of the really old kinda silly looking Sonic plushies, for example? If I had my Knuckles one on hand I'd use him as an example, but I think he's in storage somewhere :(

3. Gets into really heated arguments about video game mechanics and stat stuff where applicable; like, Ramona has to drag him away or else he will actively start fighting people kind of heated. He can hold chill conversations, but if he feels like he's being talked down to about a game that he's REALLY into, like Sonic Adventure (he has the director's cut!)

Wallace Wells

1. MENACE TO SOCIETY. He's comparable to Roxie in this way except he is so much worse (I say this affectionately <3) because he does just straight up, in canon, do things like steal Stacey's boyfriends! And that's his friend that he's doing that to! So I cannot IMAGINE what mischief he gets up to when he goes out drinking. He's probably ruined so many lives, naybe even marriages. What am I saying, maybe? Definitely. And he feels no remorse about this! In his eyes either your man was already gay or you needed to treat him better, sweetie; he HAS been rejected before, so clearly his charms can't ruin what ain't already broken.

2. While he does have feeling for Scott, which is basically canon I don't even want to hear it, he KNOWS better. Like, he'd been living with Scott for a while, so he knows if they were legitimately dating he probably would be even more sick of him than he already is. When they were still living together, though, there were times where he couldn't help but wonder if it would really be all that bad... right before Scott comes in and does or says something that just highlights for Wallace that he's making the Sane choice. Besides, Wallace is (and i hate using these terms but I straight up don't know what other words I could possibly use) a sugar baby; he can't keep up being both a sugar baby and Scott's effective sugar daddy (HATEHATEHATE THAT WORD) while ALSO paying rent. It doesn't really work out that well, especially with him having, at the time, such a shitty apartment to begin with.

3. I feel like Wallace really enjoys his nightlife and getting to sleep around, so I'm unsure if this is something still in play while he's with Mobile, or if he respects Mobile enough to do away with that entirely. Like, different situations work for different relationships, so if Mobile is fine with it then maybe it's something that continues! But taking into account the sparks from the show, maybe he'd actually be really fine being exclusive with Mobile. Especially given how well their future selves seem to be doing. Idk! Basically the sum of this one is just that, if Wallace is exclusive with Mobile, he misses be a bit of a whore, but he's very happy where, and with who he is, now.

Envy Adams

1. She gives me vibes.. queer vibes... in some sort of direction.... idk if I'm fully behind her also being a comp. het lesbian or just labeling her a disaster bi, but I also get a vague sense of gender fuckery. It's entirely her name thing, probably, but I can see Envy being genderqueer.

2. She probably hunted Lynette down after that show- an arm was likely Not Enough to quite satisfy that rage. Especially since she didn't get the satisfaction of beating Todd more thoroughly herself, since Scott stepped in. Conversely, for the show canon, Wallace has a target on his back for the rest of her life, as far as she's concerned, even in a world where her feelings for Todd were just misunderstood- she considered him her best friend, and you don't get away with hurting her friends like that unless you're her.

3. I think I'd like to HC that some part of her regrets booting Scott from the band the way she did back in college? Maybe not immediately, or even soon, but I feel like sometimes she would think about him and their relationship as a whole and just feel bad, Idk. Like, she doesn't want to get back with him at all, but I could maybe see her offering to promote Shatterband (or Sex Bob-Omb, in the show,) or even play with him as a genuine apology instead of a coy trap somewhere down the line.

Knives Chau

1. Look... look I know I'm about to sound like a broken record... comp. het. lesbian or bi. HEAR ME OUT: her puppy dog love for Scott is really just that- something cute and innocent, but very intense, especially once he cuts her off in that honestly really brutal manner. Teenage heartbreak is messy- even if you feel like it was real, true love you had, you can often realize later in life that what you felt was just admiration, or something else innocuous like that. I think she reaffirms it to herself as a deep and true love because of how intense the pain of that breakup was, paired with everything that comes after, and I think the show really highlights that for me? Because in the show, with Scott out of the picture entirely, she's just a lot less intense about it. I think after playing music and hanging around his friends, she realizes she didn't really love him all that much, just thought he was a cool older guy and liked that he took an interest in her, even if she recognizes how wrong that was now. ((I probably have more articulate thoughts on this but I am really starting to feel the lack of pain meds so I need to get through this--))

2. Knives is really good at rhythm games and things like DDR or, when it's eventually released, Just Dance. Like, freakishly good. She picks them up just as well and just as quickly as she did her instruments.

3. With how quickly she picked up her instruments, she kinda gives me honor student vibes? Idk. I feel like it'd be a little stressful for her later on, because I do think her passionate drive for music makes her grades take a slight spin, but she just gives off that energy for me. Knives is a lot smarter than people give her credit for, I think, Idk.

... yes, I am very normal about media... spending 3 hours on 1 ask that offered me a lot more simplicity than I can apparently manage...

#asks #txt #kim pine #ramona flowers #roxie richter #lisa miller #Matthew Patel #scott pilgrim #wallace wells #envy adams #knives chau #i think i might have said this in the post but maybe i didnt or removed it- they're not necessarily ordered by like. most to least favorite #i just kinda chucked same names on there and went. debated starting some for lucas but i think my hands need a break- and my stomach a Snac #spto #sp comic #spvtw #headcanons #scott pilgrim takes off #scott pilgrim comic #scott pilgrim vs the world #potential spoilers for both the comics and the show i think?#if anyone wants this tagged w ship stuff for my little blurb under Kim lemme know #also I didn't include Roxie in the list of characters I think she likes but she should have been an honorable mention. i mostly had comic +#+ brain with that section #long post #woollyworm #demon hipster chicks

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willshipanything-blog · 5 months

Text

Breaking the Rules- Chapter 21

Penultimate chapter!! (Besides a couple little epilogue things I have planned). Al has just revealed his plan to confess his crimes- how will y/n ever stop this mad scheme?

Full tags, as well as the fic if you prefer, is on AO3 here. As usual, minors please DNI!

Full Tumblr chapter index can be found here.

Hope you enjoy lovelies! 💜✌️✨

Chapter 21- The Depths

“Take that mask off.”

The fire in your voice was low and rumbling, a biting warning that you hardly thought yourself capable of. Your initial reaction at his affixing the mask had been terror, but a scorching fury had lit inside you at the audacity of Al to try this, after all this time. You’d had enough of this.

Of Al attempting this confession, of him even thinking about throwing everything -throwing you- away after all this time. The warning had little effect and Al, wearing the familiar horns and expressionless face, came closer.

“I’m serious, Al. Take. It. Off.”

Another step towards you.

Al remained undeterred, his eerie silence reminiscent of nights spent watching silently as you cried yourself to sleep on the mattress. If he was trying to evoke those memories, it was working. Cruel bastard. You slammed your good hand on the table, but as you used the force as leverage to stand, an agony speared through your arm. Al had reached you, had gripped your hand before you could stand. The tight grip had provoked the still-tender muscles in your dislocated finger and you jolted, an electric current tearing through your bloodstream. A sibilant hiss escaped through your teeth at the pain, which had forced you back onto the chair.

“I’ve got to finish this, Y/N. To pay for my crimes.”

“That wasn’t you. It was-”

“The Grabber?” he asked, a theatrical air of incredulity heavy in his voice. “Not Albert Shaw? They’re one and the same, sweet. You need to stop pretending those are two different people,” he leaned closer, “It’s all me.”

No. You’d seen the change, that almost physical manifestation of the otherness that enveloped Al like a black shroud of fog in the past. In the past, though. He might be using the same mannerisms and voice, but this was all an act. The mask wasn’t some summoning device; it didn’t automatically call on the Grabber to appear like an evocation of some paranormal being.

“It’s NOT you, Al,” you hoped the repetition of his name might break the mad spell he was trying to hold himself in, the lie he was telling himself to make all of this seem justified. Did it make it easier to betray you like this if he played such a role?

“Stop kidding yourself. Look who I am-” here, Al nudged open the wooden box with a knuckle, plucking out an item at random (the blue choker necklace) and shaking it wildly in front of you. “Look at what I’ve done! You want me to tell you how I killed each of them? Why not read that note again, huh? Or I could tell you all the details I didn’t put in that confession.”

You’d already looked away by this point, eyes scrunched closed and head shaking, trying to refute Al’s words by purposefully ignoring them. But you knew them to be at least somewhat true- your shameful averting gaze was in part because you had no retort, no justifiable defense for what he was saying. You felt the tears start at the outer corners of your eyes, tumbling down your cheeks before a much rougher sensation met your skin.

“Look at me!” Al roared, gripping your face between his thumb and forefinger, the course fingertips digging into your cheeks as he forced you to face him. Your eyes stayed closed. His voice again, softer but infinitely more lethal, spoke:

“Look at me, little bird.”

You opened your lids slowly, discerning those still-blue eyes behind the mask. Heavenly, you might have thought that shade, had they not been sitting beneath literal devil horns. Deep blue, with no trace of that hunger or feral rage that signified the Grabber. Al was angry, perhaps at what he thought to be a hopeless situation, but those emotions were Al’s alone. Not the Grabber’s- no matter how much Al pretended to still house that monster within him.

“Please take off the mask, Al.” It was more desperate and pleading now, spoken through hiccuped breaths, your tears still tracing downward paths down your face. You knew Al’s hardened resolve had already set like cement; unyielding. He didn’t answer you as he released your face from his grasp, finally letting go of your injured hand too.

You shook the pain away from your hand, looking up at Al, who stood silently over you. He sighed heavily and rolled his shoulders, as if sloughing off the last remnants of himself. His eyes closed behind the mask, and as he opened them, he spoke. The voice was barely an imitation anymore, any attempts at theatricality and grandeur erased by the hoarseness, that clear distress of his words.

“You gonna be my good girl one last time?”

You had no time to react before he pounced.

Quick hands had grabbed and lifted you from your seat before implausibly strong arms wrapped around your body. You’d been so numbed, paralyzed by his cutting words about that fragile dichotomy between Al and the Grabber, that his sudden lunge towards you had blindsided you.

“Let me GO!” You roared, your legs kicking wildly in front of you, your arms squashed too tightly under his grip to help you wriggle free.

“I- am letting- you go,” Al huffed from behind the mask, his winded breath the only sign of a struggle; his strength seemingly carrying you with ease across the kitchen, towards the wooden door waiting for you in the corner of the room. Once there, his arm had to reach out to twist the doorknob, yet with just one arm around your torso you were hopelessly outmatched. You pried an arm free, desperately clawing behind you, as if the possibility of ripping off that demonic mask might snap Al out of this madness. Your frantic mauling only served to bend your injured finger out of place once more, tearing a howl from you. With the wooden door open, Al’s free hand moved to muffle your groans.

All too much. The pain shooting through your arm, the tight grip around your body, the suffocating hand stifling your shouts, the dizzying ordeal of being carried back towards that prison you’d spent too long in. And the worst part of all of it: that Al had planned this, wanted- thought he needed this to happen.

It wasn’t the sick perversion of actually wanting a victim in the basement, carrying down your unconscious body like he had done nearly a year ago. It wasn’t the heated passion like he’d shown just a couple of nights ago, where he’d nearly dragged you down those stairs in a sudden burst of fury. This was an entirely different purpose. A kindness, in Al’s eyes- to keep you there one last time, to present you as the Grabber’s unwilling cohabitant. A short stint in those depths, to save you from a lifetime of being with him.

You felt your body still, felt the damp air, and realization hit. The realization that Al had already kicked open the metal door at the bottom of the stairwell. The realization that you were already in the basement. The physical pain of your injury, along with the growing hopelessness of the situation, meant that you’d not fought hard enough to stop this insanity. Another sickly sensation as you felt your body teetering, discerning that Al was leaning forward, dropping you to the floor, his weight on your back pinning you to the cold stone. Hands retracted, but the weight holding you to the floor only allowed a thin rasp of a breath to plead with Al. You’d always used your words before, unable to match the bestial strength on full display now, so you choked out your plea.

“Al, don’t. Please-”

“Enough.”

The coldness of that voice from behind was a steel blade in your back. He wrestled your hands behind you, though the pain of your twisted finger paled in comparison to the agonizing realization of what was happening. With both your wrists clasped in one of Al’s, you heard a fumbling and then a staccato rip of duct tape. The noise was enough to spur your body into a fresh convulsion beneath Al. The sudden struggle seemed to catch him off-guard, and he had to pacify you with a forceful grip on the nape of your neck, pushing your cheek into the cold floor. Still reeling, your ragged breaths unable to scream but your last bit of strength still pushing against him, and Al loosened his grip on your neck, only to push down even harder a second later. Your head collided with the floor, a dull thunk followed by a high-pitched buzzing in your ears. It was just hard enough to daze you, and when the buzzsaw in your brain came to a halt, Al had already tied your hands behind your back.

A more intimate sensation now, as Al held your bounds hands lightly. If it seemed a kind gesture, that fallacy was erased a moment later as he pulled at the ring on your finger. His ring, the gold band he’d given as a promise, was pried from you. Your finger felt suddenly cold, exposed. He’d gifted you the ring as a promise to keep you safe. But what good was that when Al saw himself as the danger? What good was any of it when you were drawn to that danger like a moth to a lethal flame?

“No more of my broken promises.” In saying that, Al couldn’t see the cruel contradiction that leaving you would be the biggest betrayal of all. Still, if he cared about promises at all, didn’t that show that he was still Al beneath that mask? Maybe there was time to stop this ill-conceived scheme.

Your body jolted again, this time with a pressure on your arms as Al grabbed them, heaving you across the room. Your bare legs scraped against the grimy floor as you were jostled before Al tossed you onto the mattress a few feet from the floor where he’d wrestled you. The familiar feeling of the damp, worn bed as Al threw you down was a sickening déjà vu. Instinct had you scrabbling back towards the wall, feet slipping on the dirty fabric until your head and hands hit stone behind you. A scene you’d seen dozens of times lay before you- Al standing there, fully masked, looking down at your weak, helpless body on the mattress. Somehow, knowing Al’s intention to give himself in, knowing you’d soon be without him, made this more terrifying than any of the earlier encounters. With the spool of tape still in one hand, Al retrieved something from his back pocket with his other, pulling out his small switchblade. Your pleas, desperate wriggling and heavy tears weren’t enough to stop his advance, and he strode over the mattress, dropping down with his knees astride your thighs, eye level with you.

“He’s not there, Al. You’re just pretending. Don’t act like the monster we both know is dead.” you croaked.

Blue eyes in the mask’s shadow looked back at you silently. The slight tilt of Al’s head had you wondering whether Al was still embodying those impish mannerisms, or whether he was really considering your statement.

“It’s who I need to be right now, dove.” His admittance that it was an act was little comfort when his refusal to give up that role was so evident, and you crumpled as he said those words. Perhaps he wanted to console you with a soft touch, but his resolve won out, and he got to work quickly as you cried to an unresponsive audience of one.

Some of the work was already complete: your bruises from Naughty Girl, taken willingly, would tell a different tale than your twisted game. The handprints still red and visible on your buttocks would be unexplainable as anything other than abuse to those outside of this room. The dirt and grime from your writhing on the basement floor was an extra little touch, more evidence of mistreatment. But Al had other lies to tell, and worked quickly to write the false tale. Your shirt first, Al tearing it at the collar, creating rips with his small blade. When he was done, there was more skin exposed than covered by the remnants of the cotton material. Your underwear next, which he whipped down your legs, discarding to the side. That image would leave no doubt for whoever found you, deducing what vile acts the Grabber inflicted upon you in this room. Hell, you even had his seed inside you from this morning. Who would believe that such an act was consensual, given the state of you now?

He seemed to think twice about his next move, before slow hands approached with the switchblade. You held your breath as Al drew near, the indecisive knife hovering over your neck, then chest, before Al chose the spots carefully. A couple of skillful nicks on your upper arms and thighs shocked more than hurt, the shallow cuts bursting with small patches of fresh red on your skin. A few fresher wounds that the Grabber had inflicted, giving more credulity to the fabrication that you were still a captive. The cuts barely even hurt. Not compared to everything else.

“Go deeper,” you sobbed as Al made a small incision above your knee, stopping when he heard your words. “If you’re really doing this, I’d rather be dead. Cut deeper.”

“No more killing,” Al said, folding down his knife and retreating it back to his pocket. “You’ll appreciate this one day, dove. You’ll see it was the one good thing I ever did to you.”

No retort you might muster would be enough to sway him, your mind too jumbled and shocked to form any sort of coherent argument. Your stomach lurched at the inescapable truth; that Al’s confession was coming to fruition, that he was about to lock you down here, and end it all.

“Shit-” Al had risen, looking towards the metal door before turning to you again. “Sorry dove- I broke the door lock. Can’t have you going anywhere until they find you.” In an instant he was on you, another stretch of duct tape unwinding with a cracking rip before he quickly wound a length of it tightly around your ankles.

“Al!” you pleaded as he secured your legs, running out of energy, out of ideas. “I won’t be able to stand it, seeing you go to jail. Everything that will follow-”

“You might not see me do any of that,” he explained as you gave a pained, confused look, “If I put up enough of a fight, if I’m a big enough threat, they might just shoot on sight.”

That dizziness returned without a fresh bump to your head, the idea of not just being away from Al, but him not existing at all…. It felt like you had no more cards to play. What else was there to say to persuade him apart from your true feelings?

“Al, don’t do this. I love-” a swift shadow lunged at you. Al’s hands moved to silence the tail end of your admission, one over your mouth and the other cupping the back of your head. He knew the pain of those words, what pain it would cause for him to hear those three words on your lips one final time.

“NO!” he cried, bringing the masked face close to your own. “You think you love me. After this, you’ll realize you hated me all this time. Then you’ll forget me, and that will be the happy ending you deserve. You don’t need me for your happy ending.” You stilled beneath him, even as the tears dripped over his fingers that covered your mouth. It really was over.

Through your tear-soaked lashes, you looked up at Al and nodded, showing him you were pacified, and he moved his hand in understanding.

“If you’re going to say goodbye, do it as Al. Don’t let my last memory of you be of this- this thing that I don’t see you as.”

Al tore the mask away from his face, obeying your final request. His eyes matched yours in their tearful state.

“Thank you, dove. For not seeing me as the monster.” And then he rushed at you. His lips crashed against yours, harsh and desperate and so full of love and loss. You returned the kiss, straining against your bonds to try and hold him there forever if it meant never leaving. But after a moment, he tore himself away and you released a keening wail. A quick rip of tape and Al covered your mouth, muffling your cries beneath the gag.

He kissed your temple before rising, walking briskly towards the door as if scared he might change his mind about the whole confession. You moaned desperately through the tape as he retreated. One last, lingering look and a final goodbye.

“I’m sorry, dove. I love you.”

And with that, the metal door closed.

If the closing of that metal door felt like a death sentence, it was the least he deserved, Al thought as it shut with a dull clang. But she deserved so much more, so much better. Even from behind the door, he heard the muffled screams of his love. It broke him to know how much she was suffering, even if she’d been through worse at his hands in the past. But the quicker he worked, the sooner she’d be free from her restraints and from the basement. From him, too.

He strode briskly through the house to the bedroom first. The first scene to set up. From the bedside drawer, he pulled out the handcuffs he’d been chained in just yesterday. One bracelet he looped through a headboard slat, the other left open on the rumpled sheets. The very picture of an unwilling bed partner. From the box in the closet he pulled out a few more things he scattered on the bed; some lengths of rope and some toys they’d played with during the game. Along with some risque underwear he’d bought her as a suggestive gift (also thrown on the bed), it painted a sordid, disgusting picture of the things he’d subjected this innocent girl to over months and months of captivity. Al could already picture the scandalous headlines he’d probably never live to read.

In the kitchen, Al placed the duct tape and knife from his pockets on the table with the mask he’d thrown on there minutes earlier. The confession, the wooden box and the alternate faces of the mask still sat, waiting to become evidence once Al finally did what was needed. He removed the pink-jeweled ring from his pinky finger- her ring, which he’d taken early in her captivity. First, as a cruel taunt that no one was coming to save her. Then later, as a promise that he’d be the savior she needed. What a hollow promise that turned out to be. Al put the pink morganite ring in the box with the other trophies, the silver band hitting the base of the box with a sad clatter. He put his own gold band inside too, not wanting to mar the ring his little bird had worn for so many months. That ring was an empty promise too, a past relic now. Al didn’t deserve to wear such a thing. It joined the other ring before Al closed the box.

He collected the photographs of him and his dove from the kitchen fridge and the frames in the living room- a few snapshots that he’d need to dispose of. Over the sink, he held a match to the small polaroid of her and him in an intimate, comfortable lover’s embrace, watching the edges blacken and disintegrate. Wisps of the photo fell into the sink, followed by tears as he watched it burn slowly.

As the orange flame began to eat away at his image on the polaroid film, Al thought about what was coming, and how he deserved every punishment. But to have gotten her so deep in this web, to give her hope of a future after he took her old life away, only to throw her back into the unknown, was just as callous an act as kidnapping her the first day he set eyes on her. Still, he hoped that one day, she would move on. She might mourn him a little, but in the end they’d be wasted tears.

The fire had all but erased Al in the image, moving to devour his dove next. It was his greatest magic trick he’d ever performed, Al thought. Though truly, more hypnosis than real magic. What was more incredible- that she’d fallen for him in the first place, or that he was pathetic enough to believe it could last?

The last scraps had burned out, and he scrubbed the sink of any sooty remains to finish his task. Al went to the white phone in the living room, picking it up and carrying it with him to his armchair, the corded wire taut, but just long enough for him to use the phone from his chair. One hand lifted the receiver to his ear, whilst the other hand reached towards the rotary dial.

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