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deadsetobsessions · 9 days

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Woo! I’ve finally got time to write! Had to go to a wedding, suffered through eight whole hours of pure disorganized mess, and got mad about it. Emphasis on the disorganized part. So, I bring you: party planner!Danny Phantom.

——

If anyone was to see him now, they’d definitely think that it was odd that Danny was the one in the party planning field. They wouldn’t be surprised if it was Jazz, but Danny ‘wing it’ Fenton planning things? Never.

But here he was, clipboard in hand and checking off hors d’œuvres from the list.

“Anton, could you do a check of the sound system? Make sure everything’s working?”

“Got it.”

Danny lifted the buffet table, laden with heavy food, and used a bit of his ghostly strength to move it over.

“Perfect.”

He double checked the seating chart, and readjusted the miniature ice sculpture centerpieces he made for the party.

Wayne Manor was all lit up and perfectly dusted. Danny ran through his mental checklist. Tabled? Check. Dance floor clean and scuff free? Check. DJ booth and open bar running without issues? Check. Live band setting up with back up instruments and strings? Check. Decorations on point? Oh, he’ll have to get the team to readjust those.

Time to check-

“Danny! How’s it going?” Bruce Wayne beamed and slung an arm around his shoulder.

Danny smiled politely. “Mr. Wayne. Everything is going smoothly. Would you like to check the food the chefs have made?”

“Sure, sure! I definitely need to eat before I drink, haha!”

“That’s a good idea! Good thing you’re about to try a bunch of food.” Danny matched the billionaire’s energy. He’s going to get paid so good.

“So, Danny, are you going to college?”

Danny passed him a small sampler. “Ah, I can’t. Some stuff happened in high school and I don’t really have the grades or the money to.”

Plus, his credentials were in another plane of existence and he hadn’t figured out how to transfer those records yet.

“You could still attend college, I’m sure! Your parents might be able to help pay?” Bruce nommed on the food. He gave a thumbs up.

Danny sighed. “It’s not always an option. Plus, my parents are dead.”

In this universe. His own? Alive and kicking GIW ass.

“Oh, I see-”

“Father.”

“Woah!” Danny blinked, looking down at the baby Wayne the popped up next to his father’s elbow.

“Damian! What’s wrong, kiddo?”

Damian shot his father a flat glare and dragged the laughing billionaire away.

Danny snorted and returned to his tasks. He has to check the speeches and the lighting. Hm… he doesn’t have time to adjust everything how he wants it.

Good thing he knew a guy that could stop time.

“Hey, Clockwork?”

——

“Father, I understand your inclination towards adopting poor black haired and blue eyed orphans, but I would like to remind you that I have far too many siblings to be adding yet another bumbling buffoon.”

“I was not considering that, Damian.”

Damian let go of his wrist with a grimace. “Denial is not becoming of a Wayne, Father.”

“Yeah, B. I could see you grab the adoption papers from all the way over here.” Tim adjusted his tie. “Anyways, Dick is on his way. He’s running a little late because of some stuff in Blüdhaven.”

“Thank you, Tim.”

——

“Batman.”

“Oracle.”

“Look at the footage of Wayne manor.” Oracle pulled up the video surveillance scattered through out the manor. Specifically, the ones of the west ballroom. Daniel Fenton stood in his spot, looking down at his clipboard but a second later, he's moved three inches to the left and the decorations had subtly been moved more aesthetic spots. "I think Danny might be a meta. We'll have to look into him."

Batman stood up, allowing the fondness he had for Danny as Bruce Wayne drain away. This is a potential threat, and Batman will treat him like one. (Danny will remember this.)

"Contact Flash. I need him to scan for any temporal disturbance."

"Understood."

——

"Brucie!" A socialite squealed as she came to bestow hugs upon a long suffering Bruce. "My god, this place is gorgeous! You must give me your planner's number. I could absolutely use some fresh eyes for the Annual Spring Party."

"Awe, Janine! I gotta keep some of the good things to myself!" Bruce whined, inwardly smirking as he saw his kids mock-gagging behind the lady's back. "What if your party's cooler than mine? What should I do then? You're already so gorgeous! Why, is that a Birkin?"

Janine lit up and all but forgot about getting Danny's contact information. Bruce patted his own back for a job well done, even if he had to listen to Janine's itemized list of random luxury goods she had to buy before being offered a bag.

He's a Wayne. The Gotham Hermes wished they could partner with the Waynes. Plus, he's pretty sure he's got at least three of those bags somewhere in the manor to bait out Selina.

Catching Danny sliding in between the servers and going towards the kitchen, Bruce quickly excused himself with a disarming himbo grin.

Time to subtly grill the kid.

——

"Hey, Timmy?"

"Hello, Dick," Tim smiled elegantly at the couple who's companies he was about to bring six feet underground and excused himself. "What's up?"

"Have you noticed that the ice sculptures haven't melted at all?"

Tim blinked, eyes sliding over to a harried Danny being followed by Bruce on a mission. Oof.

"Freeze?" He asked mildly, face innocent of any nefarious thoughts.

"That's what I'm thinking." Dick smiled sunnily, throwing an arm around Tim's shoulders.

"Heard the guy's living out near Crime Alley. We should get Jay to check it out." Tim pretended to laugh, grinning as his brains made plans for a stakeout.

"Heard, my ass. You totally stalked him, didn't you?"

"Got proof?"

Dick snorted, removing his arm. "Nope. I'll let Jay know. You should probably help Danny out, though, he looks like he's about to lose his temper."

"Bruce is at it again." Tim sighed. "Yeah, okay."

#batman #danny phantom #bruce wayne #himbo brucie wayne #stone cold batman #danny: im just trying to do my job #batdad and batsuspicion duking it out in the corner: i think not #damian wayne #tim drake #dick grayson #dcxdp #dpxdc #dp x dc crossover

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earthtooz · 1 year

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x : LOVE OF A KIND :*+ﾟ

in which: kaiser needs to be reassured that you love him, even if it's just a fraction of how special you are to him.

warnings: 2.3k words, toothrotting fluff and minor angst, kaiser is intoxicated, mentions of alcohol and clubbing, insecure!kaiser, gn!reader, BAD WRITING and ooc!kaiser probably, established relationship, if this flops i will cry. here we love pathetic men.

a/n: fuck you @kruinka for birthing this. actually fuck you. that's the a/n. enjoy whatever this is!

it’s approximately 1am when your phone vibrates violently on the kitchen counter, disturbing the gentle, unrushed ambience of friday evening (or saturday morning) in your apartment. pressing the space bar of your laptop with a lot more force than necessary, the show you were watching pauses as you throw the blankets off you, the chill of the air seeping into your body with each step you take.

noticing the contact name, you accept the call readily, pressing the ‘speaker’ option. immediately, you hear the noise of club music, people singing along and indistinct chatter.

“hello?” you ask, directly into the microphone.

“y/n?” ness’s voice returns.

“hey, what’s up?”

“sorry for bothering you so late. were you about to go to bed?”

“no, actually, i was staying up. something the matter?”

“it’s kaiser,” the brunet-purple-haired boy tells you and your heart drops with anxiety, mind beginning to race with whatever your egotistical, narcissism-driven boyfriend could have got himself into.

probably tried to square up someone far more impressive, for all you know. did he break something? spit in someone’s drink?

“i-it’s nothing bad!” ness reassures, “he’s just asking for you.”

oh. that’s not so terrible. “okay, but why?”

in the phone’s proximity, you can hear someone stumbling and muttering in the background. there’s an indistinct mumble of your name and ness confirming your presence on the other side of the phone, followed by an excited ‘really?’ from the mystery figure. you find comfort in the fact that you know it’s kaiser before the person even has to announce himself.

“sorry, he’s just asking for you… a lot,” the soccer player informs with a little hesitation.

before you can inquire further about it, kaiser’s voice echoes in the background. “let me talk to y/n!” he sounds faraway, but you can imagine his expression regardless from just the desperately excited tone he has.

“i can tell,” you chuckle.

“give me the phone, ness,” kaiser demands. there’s a sentence of complaint from the midfielder and some (aggressive) rustling before you can hear your boyfriend loud and clear. “baby!” he slurs.

“hello, kaiser,” you say, grinning stupidly at the sound of his voice.

“hi beautiful. are you well?” the blond sounds a little clearer now and the music seems to have diminished a little. he must have retreated to a ‘quieter’ corner of the club.

“as well as i can be at home. what about you?”

“i’m great now that i’m with you,” he murmurs, sounding more melancholy than usual, just ever so slightly. you dismiss the shift by blaming it on the alcohol, but there’s a tug at your gut that tells you that the drinks aren’t the sole reason.

you melt a little. “shouldn’t you be dancing or something? why are you calling me?”

“i love calling you,” he whines. “please don’t hang up.”

“if you’re sure… i’m not too sure that a club is the best place to call though.”

“i don’t care. so long as i’m with you, anything’s fine.”

you huff, tapping your fingers on the counter, trying not to let his sweetened words get to you. “really though, you should be going back to partying and letting loose-”

“do you not like talking to me?” kaiser whispers. you can practically hear the pout in his tone, imagining the way his shoulders slump defeatedly. funny how such a powerful, influential, and unbreakable character can be reduced to nothing in your grasp.

you couldn’t ever imagine abusing that power though, not when michael kaiser is the one in the centre of your palm. “i do. i love talking to you, i’m just concerned that you’re not using the time wisely.”

“i’m wise. i’m super wise. right, babe? tell me i’m wise.”

where you would have played with him a little and strung him along with saccharine sarcasm, a small giggle escapes your lips instead. that would be saved for sober kaiser. “you are, you are,” you reassure, suddenly filled with the urge to see him.

“thanks babe. i love you,” he whimpers. “please say you love me too.”

furrowing your brows at his uncharacteristic display of neediness and constant gratification, you were beginning to grow concerned at his odd behaviour. sure, kaiser loved to be praised for his skills, but there was something wrong about the athlete tonight. you’ve never heard him beg to be complimented like he is tonight, but with the add-ins of alcohol and whatever else, you don’t know whether to flag this or not.

“kaiser, can you give the phone back to ness?” you ask gently.

he whines, “say you love me too!”

“i’m picking you up, kaiser, give the phone back to ness so i can tell him.”

“will i get to see you?”

“if you give the phone back to ness, you will.”

“really? hang on, babe!”

there’s a bit more rustling, resembling something that sounds like kaiser pushing through a crowd as he holds the phone in his grip, saying ‘move’ to bypassers in his way. after a short conversation that you can’t pick up between the familiar voices of your boyfriend and his best friend, you hear ness’ voice clearly once again. “hey, everything okay?”

“everything’s fine,” you say, having grabbed your keys and a jacket whilst waiting. “i’m driving over to pick kaiser up, hope that doesn’t inconvenience you guys.”

“not at all. i’ll send you the location of the club. there are 15 minute parking places just outside.”

“thanks ness, i appreciate it.”

“don’t worry. see you soon.”

“i’ll let you know when i arrive. tell kaiser to wait for me.”

you hang up after that, not waiting for a farewell from the soccer player as you plug your keys into the ignition, the car revving alive. after a 20 or so minute drive to downtown (the lack of traffic at one am made it so much easier to get there faster), you park at the curbside of the street opposite the club, clambering out of your car to lean against the driver’s door, where you could see the club entrance easily.

after shooting a quick text to ness, you wait patiently for the appearance of your beloved boyfriend, hugging your jacket close to your figure.

six minutes later, you see them; a shorter figure lugging out a taller one over his shoulder with little struggle. regardless of kaiser’s inebriated position, you could recognise his silhouette anywhere, heart picking up a little as you jog over to the club, feet taking you where your heart wanted to go.

“ness!” you call out.

upon hearing your voice, kaiser’s head shoots up from where it was drooped, scanning the general vicinity of where you were before he spots you. the smile that lights up on his face is instantaneous; a grin that rivals that of the club lights.

“my love!” he exclaims excitedly, stumbling over to you with surprising accuracy for someone who must have drank his body weight in alcohol. immediately, the athlete wraps you up in his arms, the smell of beer invading your senses as kaiser shields you completely from the outside world. “i’m so happy to see you.”

“i’m happy to see you too.”

after a few seconds of relishing in his warmth and (much-appreciated) silence, you take a mini-step away from him; an action the blond clearly did not take well as he groans, manoeuvring himself to now hug you from the side, head resting against yours as you pulls you towards him possessively.

you wave at ness from where you stood, unable to move with the striker clinging onto you. “thank you, ness. i’m sorry for disturbing your night out, you know how kaiser gets,” you say with a laugh, patting your boyfriend on the back.

“no, thank you for taking care of him. i’m glad he has you.”

“and i’m glad he has you too. you should go back inside, i got it from here.”

he nods, waving after a quick farewell before heading back in, disappearing from sight. sighing, you reposition yourself so that it was comfortable to prop him up against you.

“hey, handsome, you with me?” cupping his face with both of your hands, he nods in your grip, eyes drooping here and there as he stares down at you with unmatched gentleness and love. you add as a light-hearted joke: “you used to be able to party until the clubs close, what happened?”

he grabs your wrists, holding on to them as he speaks, “you still never said ‘i love you’.”

“oh,” you laugh, letting the sound spill freely. “my bad-”

“-why are you laughing?”

his question shuts you up, catching you off guard as the laughter diminishes like an extinguished match. uncertainty dances within you like smoke, greying the giddy mood you were previously in from being reunited with him.

looking him square in the eye, you notice something that you’ve never seen him wear before: insecurity.

kaiser looks so… abashed. sheepish. dismayed. your chest clenches at the sight, a feeling of protectiveness overwhelming you.

“what do you mean?” you ask cautiously.

“why are you laughing at me?” repeats the athlete.

“oh kaiser,” brushing a strand of hair behind his ears, you see his frown even clearer. “i’m not laughing at you, it wasn’t meant to be mocking, i was laughing because you’re adorable and that you make me happy.”

he huffs, furrowing his brows. “are you sure?”

“of course i am. is everything okay, love?”

no answer. after a moment of simply standing around, you let it go because maybe it was just the alcohol that was making him act this way. you don’t want to think too hard about it.

“let’s go home,” you whisper, grabbing his hands with yours, intertwining your fingers as you wait for his response.

“okay,” he slurs, nodding compliantly.

“do you need my help walking?”

“yes,” he drapes himself over you without hesitation, causing you to groan uncomfortably. your question was said majorly as a joke, but kaiser will never let go of an opportunity to be as close to you as possible.

stumbling back to the car with a half-coherent athlete was difficult but not impossible. unlocking the vehicle, you open the passenger’s door rather easily, shoving him in there with an ‘oof’ from both of you. however, when you tried to pull away, you were met with a chain and lock around your waist, manifested in the form of your overgrown boyfriend who is too liberal with the amount of physical affection he spares.

you place a hand on his shoulder to try and steady yourself from his iron grip. “hey, i need to go to the driver’s seat, can’t you let me go to do that?”

kaiser whines loudly, pulling you even closer. “please don’t make me let go. i don’t want to.”

he was not good for your health. you exhale, slightly perplexed, slightly touched by his devotion. ��babe, i’m just going to the driver’s seat. you’ll let me, won’t you?”

“no. wanna keep you with me. want to love you forever,” his words are muffled into your jacket before the athlete brings his head out of your stomach to look you square in the eye, and the shiny, emotional look in them makes your heart lurch. “please say there’s no one else for you but me.”

grabbing both sides of his face with tender affection, you place a kiss on his nose; an action that causes him to scrunch his nose out of instinct. “you know there will never anyone but you. i love you just as much in kind.”

he sighs, melting against you. the night air nips at your exposed skin but you can’t find it in you to care much.

“so… you don’t think that i’m too much?” the star striker questions and you think you’ve uncovered the root of tonight’s strangeness; the main problem that’s been bothering him.

“a lot? maybe” you whisper and his face falls slightly at your confession, a flash of devastation crossing his features. his expression of ruin is slow to fade so you kiss it off, sealing your lips with his in a gentle meeting of two hearts, hoping to heal his sorrow that was carved from a moment of misunderstanding.

you pull away from him but the striker continues chasing after your touch.

“but never too much.”

an exhale of relief leaves him before he straightens up to meet your lips again, hand snaking up to the back of your neck to hold you against him as he tries to communicate all that he feels- which is everything.

kaiser loves selectively, but he loves hard, dedicating everything of his that he can until he’s squeezed dry and rendered empty, ready for a refill that he’ll inevitably give away, all to you.

kaiser’s heart rests in your hands, where it rightfully belongs.

“i love you,” slurs the striker against your lips. “i know i can be a lot but i love you. please never leave me. what is the meaning of life if you’re not there with me?”

you can’t help wondering about what happened tonight for him to reach such a state of existentialism, but there’s no time to dwell on it now whilst he’s still intoxicated and vulnerable. gently, you hold his jaw so he could look up at you.

“i might not show it as unabashedly as you do, but please never doubt that i love you. i adore you with my whole being, kaiser, there’s no one else in the world for me like you,” you confess, voice gentle and unwavering.

he doesn’t let you see the way his eyes mist before closing them and leaning into your touch. “i would do anything for you,” the striker whispers.

“anything, you say?”

he nods.

“then let’s go home and sleep. what do you say, handsome?”

“what a brilliant idea. you’re so smart, my love.”

“thank you but you need to let go of me in order for that to happen.”

he begins wailing in protest.

#kaiser x reader #michael kaiser x reader #kaiser michael x reader #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #blue lock #kaiser #michael kaiser #kaiser michael #kaiser fluff

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psychedelic-ink · 3 months

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ㅤㅤㅤ✦ 𝐀 𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐘 𝐌𝐀𝐍

ㅤㅤno outbreak!joel miller x f!reader

genre: smut, minors dni, romance, valentines day, strangers to lovers

word count: 1.2k

summary: when your friend sets you up on a blind date, you had no idea how impactful it would be.

warnings: piv, oral (fem receiving), praise, mild dirty talk, ngl this is mostly smut dvbfdvbd

a/n: hello @always-andromeda!!! I was your secret valentine!! 💘💘💘 sorry I'm slightly late but I hope you had a spectacular valentines day, and I hope this fic of a dream of a man will make you happy!

A blind date.

A goddamn fucking blind date.

You still can’t believe you said yes and thought it was worth risking your mental stability for a date with a man you’ve never met, nor seen before. The agreed time was 7 pm, Valentine's Day, and lo behold it was 7.15, and still no sign of the famous Joel Miller.

“This was stupid,” you mutter, looking around the crowded bar. You got stood up that’s for sure. You should leave, go home, and snuggle up with your favorite book under the bed.

You're already seated at a cozy booth, nursing a half-forgotten drink as you contemplate your escape plan. Suddenly, a voice cuts through the chatter of the bar.

"Hey there."

You turn, startled, to see a man standing before you. He has a slightly sheepish grin on his face, as if he's been searching for you for a while. He repeats your name, a bit firmer this time, probably thinking he might have had the wrong person. Swiftly your eyes move up and down his frame, broad shoulders, broad chest— His dark, tousled hair frames a ruggedly handsome face, with tired, yet alert, eyes that seem to hold a thousand stories.

"Yeah, that's me," you reply, trying to hide your surprise. "And you must be Joel?"

"Guilty as charged," he says with a soft smile. "Sorry, I'm late. Traffic was hell."

“That’s alright. . .”

He raises an eyebrow, still smiling, “You sure that’s what you think? You looked right about to leave, honey.”

"Well, I... I was just... considering my options," you stammer, feeling a bit flustered under his scrutiny.

Joel's smile widens, and he chuckles softly. "I'm glad you decided to stick around," he says, his voice warm and reassuring. "I promise to make it worth your while."

There's a sincerity in his words that puts you at ease, and you find yourself relaxing in his presence. Maybe this blind date won't be such a disaster after all.

"I'll grab us some drinks," Joel offers, standing up from the booth.

You nod, grateful for the distraction. "Sure, sounds good. I'll have a Negroni."

As Joel heads towards the bar, he glances back at you with an amused twinkle in his eye. "Don't run off while I'm gettin’ them now," he teases.

You let out a laugh, feeling a warmth spreading through you. "Don't worry," you reply, meeting his gaze. "I'm not going anywhere now that you're here."

He’s a single dad.

A contractor.

And most importantly, he’s eager to take you home.

In the short amount of time that you got to know him, you feel as if this blind date was a key moment in your life. You already know this wouldn’t be the only time, and by the way he’s kissing you right now, you know that he feels it too.

You had done the most cliche thing possible, asking if he wanted to come upstairs for a drink.

All hell broke loose as soon as you closed your apartment door.

His tongue is deep in your mouth as he sucks on your bottom lip, teeth nipping at the tender flesh. His large hands are under your skirt, squeezing your ass. You moan wantonly into his mouth, your eyes rolling all the way back into your skull. You’re burning and all he does is fan the flames.

“Look at you, so good to me making those sweet noises,” he pulls his mouth away only an inch, making you feel the fan of his breath. His lips are shining under the dim light. “Make some more pretty girl. Make me hear all of it.”

Without warning he slips two fingers between your folds, circling them around your clit. Your insides clench, more wetness gathering between your legs. Another moan rips from your throat. Joel gives you a half smile, eyes growing dark the more you let go and fall.

“Can’t wait to take you apart again and again and again,” his lips ghost your cheek, mapping a road to your ear. You shudder against him. “Where’s the bedroom?”

It takes you a second to understand the question. At least you thought it was a second, his deep laughter makes you think otherwise. “You really know how to make a man feel good about himself, sweetheart. But as much as I would love to fuck you on the floor, a bed would be better for a sweet thing like yourself.”

“If you continue sweet-talking me like that I might just combust.”

“That’s the plan darlin’,” he murmurs as you guide him. “I can’t wait to taste your mess.”

As soon as he strips you down and lays you on the bed, he takes his place between your legs. A man of his word. He’s still fully clothed, you only managed to unbutton his jeans but that was it. He grinds down into the soft flesh of the bed as his tongue dips between your folds, licking and slurping, he moves up to your clit and sucks the sensitive nub, making you shout.

“Let go, sweetheart. Need you to come at least once before you take me.”

He sucks your clit again and again, applying pressure with his tongue, he slips in two fingers, curling them at just the right angle—

“Fuck—Joel, I’m—“

“Come for me, darlin’. Give me what I asked for and make me a happy man.”

With a gasp, you let go, your whole body trembling as Joel continues to work his magic until you're left breathless and spent. He gives your clit one last lick before pulling away, a cocky grin on his face.

"Damn, you look beautiful when you come. I can't wait to see it again," he says as he leans in for a quick kiss, before getting up and shedding his own clothes. You take a moment to admire his body before he's on top of you, his lips pressed against yours again.

With each kiss, each touch, the fire between the two of you only intensifies. You don't even notice when he slips a condom on and pushes inside you, the pleasure taking over.

Joel's thrusts are slow and deep, his hands gripping your hips as he moves in and out of you with increasing speed. You can feel the pressure building in your core again.

"God, you feel so good," Joel groans, his breath hot against your neck as he kisses and nips at your skin. "I can't get enough of you."

You feel the tight coil in your stomach unravel again, and you cry out as you come for a second time. Joel follows soon after, collapsing on top of you as he catches his breath.

He rolls off of you and pulls you into his arms, both of you covered in a light sheen of sweat. You lay there in comfortable silence for a few minutes before Joel speaks up.

"Can I be honest with you, sweetheart?"

"Of course," you reply, turning to look at him.

"I haven't felt a spark like this with anyone in a long time. I want to see where this goes," he says, sincerity in his voice.

"I feel the same way," you admit, smiling at him.

Joel's fingers brush your cheek before leaning in for a soft kiss. You can't believe your luck, finding someone who could ignite such a passionate fire in you. You know this is just the beginning of something special between the two of you. And you can't wait to see where it takes you.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller smut #tlou fanfiction #joel miller fanfiction #the last of us fanfic #pedro pascal characters fanfic #pedro pascal character fanfic #spacesisterssecretvalentine

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girlycocksleeve · 5 months

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Description: A man turns a cuntboy into his perfect girlfriend

Tags: coerced detransition, abuse kink, misgendering kink, transphobia, rape

He met her through mutual friends. The moment he first saw her at the house party, it was obvious to him that she was a fakeboy, her binder not able to hide her tits, which must have at least been C cups judging by the curve of her shirt. She had a lower voice, although distinctly feminine, so he guessed she must’ve been on HRT.

They had exchanged numbers and talked for a couple weeks. He was older than her, 33 compared to her 22, and she had just moved to the city.

When he asked her out she was ecstatic, and they quickly planned a first date, then a second, then a third. He took her to a bar and got her drunk before taking her back to his place, pushing her up against the door and kissing her. She slurred out that she didn’t take her binder off for sex, and that she was anal only. He respected that the first time, fucking her ass would be good enough for now. She had protested at how big he was, had begged him to go slower but he just whispered “You feel too good baby, I can’t help it” and fucked her harder.

Once he was done she lay there dazed for a minute, cum leaking out of her ass, before starting and saying she needed to go home. He convinced her to stay the night, citing the lateness and her lack of sobriety, and then helped her out of her binder. He made sure not to ogle her tits, definitely bigger than a C cup, until she was asleep. At that point he was free to take pictures and videos, even parting her labia to play with her enlarged clit, sticking two fingers into her virgin pussy while she moaned.

She woke up hungover the next morning and he was there with crackers and water and ibuprofen, all gentle and sweet. She didn’t really remember the night before, but assumed her aching ass was because of him, which just turned her on. Before she left she asked to ride him. He expressed doubt, saying that she was too hungover, that she needed to rest, and she just begged, giving him a blowjob to try to convince him. It worked, and soon enough she was bouncing on his dick, tits bouncing as she hadn’t even thought to put on her binder. She left mid morning with a plug in her ass and her cunt dripping.

Before long she was opening up to him about her kinks. She wanted him to be rough with her, degrading and humiliating her. He acquiesced, making sure she knew the safeword by heart, and telling her to use it liberally.

He started to isolate her, making plans when he knew she was trying to see other friends. Driving wedges in between them, making scenes go on too long so that she would miss appointments.

One weekend he kept her denied, only letting her blow him without being allowed to touch her ass. He fed her aphrodisiacs and kept her watching porn so that her cunt stayed wet. After a couple days she was begging him to fuck her, saying she would do anything he wanted. He gave her two options: either he would fuck her ass without lube, or he would fuck her pussy. She hesitated before saying ass, crying out when the head breached her and immediately asked him to fuck her pussy.

“I don’t know, you asked for this.” He sunk another half an inch deep. The friction almost hurt with how tight she was.

“No, no, please, daddy. Please fuck my virgin pussy please I need your cock in my cunt.” He smiled as he drew back and pushed into her virgin hole. Tight and wet and he was immediately fucking rough into her, not giving her a second to adjust. She just moaned, breath catching on every thrust. He wondered if she was on birth control, but ultimately decided it didn’t matter as he came in her.

He made her clean her juices and cum off his dick before letting her cockwarm him for the rest of the day, fucking back into her pussy whenever he got hard. Eventually she came from it, clenching around him beautifully.

It was a few more weeks before he made another move. She was basically spending all her free time with him, and he had taught her that the minute she entered his apartment all of her clothes came off. That day he had her chained up, arms above her head while she was on her tippy toes. Nipple suckers had been on her tits for a good half an hour while he had flogged her ass, making her thank him for each one as her skin progressively grew more bruised. When he took the suckers off he immediately replaced them with clamps, and she instinctively shouted “No!”

She froze up, knowing that she wasn’t allowed to say that, and he tutted, yanking on the chain between the clamps so that she cried out. He then left the room, going to the atrium where her clothes were, grabbing her binder and scissors.

“This body is mine, understand?” He growled the words while yanking on the chain again, harder this time.

“Yes, sir. I’m sorry, sir. Please, daddy.” She was sobbing, either from pain or fear of punishment he didn’t know.

He held up her binder, made sure she knew what he was doing as he took the scissors to it. “If I ever see you wearing one of these again, I’ll whip your tits until they’re so swollen you won’t even be able to put one on.”

She just whimpered, “Thank you, sir.”

He fucked into her pussy afterwards, and she came when he told her what a good girl she was.

#detrans kink #detransition kink #ftm detrans kink #misgender kink #detrans me #fakeboy #forced detrans #misgenderingkink #detransitionkink #ftm misgendering #my writing 💖

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goldsbitch · 5 months

Text

That one Bologna drive

part 2 to That one Christmas flight (strongly recommend reading that one first! made me so happy you guys liked this one, so let's continue!)

summary: They were suppose to not look for each other. So of course they didn't.

warnings: crushing hard, swear words I guess, typos probably

PS: y'all gonna hate me

Lando really wanted to keep his promise not to search for her online. He enjoyed the mystery and the option to keep this little encounter as a nice "why if". Until he didn't.

With the only information he had being her first name and the fact she was a student at Bologna university his private burner account was truly burning up. He must have seen every account of the current Bologna alumni. It was strange being on the other side of these pseudo stalker fan games. There were moments where he deactivated his account, to stop him from doomscrolling. And then there were nights when he did nothing but that.

He was fed up with the emptiness and shallow lifestyle that followed him. His friends were surprised, when he started to carry classical literature books with him. Since he hated those looks, decision to really keep all of this to himself had been made. It felt like a pose sometimes - he did not have to prove anything to anyone, he was fine as he was. But a strange feeling of wanting something more is hard to navigate when the life around you seems dead set in the current ways.

Weeks passed by with his eyes fixed on one moment in particular. The Imola Grand Prix. It felt like a cruel joke when he realized this circuit was a mere hour away from Bologna.

Lando was not sure if he was supposed to be proud or scared when finally found her account. At this point, it was hard to find a better expert on the social life of that university town. But it would be a massive lie, if he said he did not sprint up from his chair when he saw her in one of her friends insta story. Tagged.

He nearly DM'd her about 20 times. But, this was not the way it was supposed to feel. No. It seemed like a way better plan to ride up to Bologna and hang out at what seemed to be her favorite cafe / bar in the centre. If it was meant to be, he would run into her and it could all be called a second lucky accident.

He had an average start of the season. Maybe Imola would bring him luck one way or the other.

His plan was to ride up there the evening after his first practice - then the team debrief dragged until late hours. He hit the wall on the second day - his team made sure he went through all and every medical check up, no matter how much he protested. Then there was this and than that and suddenly he realized the only possible evening would be the Sunday one. He requested the latest flight him team would allow.

Finishing fourth felt like a joke, even though it was his best finish this season. Missing the podium by a mere second was a cruel of a metaphor.

Once he managed to run through all his duties, exhausted as truly was, he hit the road.

Within a half an hour, he was in what seemed her most favorite cafe, sitting on a bar stool, ordering a glass of white wine.

She was nowhere to be found. His heart jumped when her friends came in and sat outside, lighting their cigarettes. Lando waited. He had to laugh at himself, pathetic as he was right now. By his luck lately, she was probably in her bedroom sleeping, or worse - on a date with some Italian fuck boy. Going up to her friends and asking was absolutely not an option - he wanted to surprise her, not scare her and creep her out.

He left the bar after one hour for a stroll around. He walked around the lively square filled with young people sitting on the ground and having the time of their life, the one he saw hundreds of times on his screen. Who knew, maybe she'd be around somewhere. Jealousy swept over him, envying those who were fortunate enough to keep her company right now at this very moment. After one hour he was back for a second glass. But this time he heard his name being called loudly immediately as he stepped inside. All of his tired muscles tensed up in disbelief. And to continue with the theme of pure luck - it was an ordinary fan. The surprised guy with a Mercedes t-shirt insisted on a photo and signature. Lando smiled, signed and went back to his car.

He probably needed this closure.

Y/N was a person who prided herself on her principles. So when she and the mystery boy from that Christmas flight agreed upon not looking each other up, she kept herself away from doing so. Exam season and university life got in the way, providing a great distraction.

Only when she went on a date with what seemed to be a lovely French physics student, she allowed herself to think back to her encounter with Lando. That's when her internal facade fell apart. She spent the whole date imagining Lando would appear. He'd sit at a different table, right in her view, and then once her date would go on the toilet, they'd run away like little kids would do. They'd sit in a local park and laugh while sharing a bottle of wine. She knew he was somehow famous. He heart crushed at the thought that she was probably overshadowed by girls way prettier than her.

And then, on a random afternoon during a first study session the weather allowed her and her friends to spend outside, in one of the university gardens, one simple conversation she accidentaly overheard from the people sitting nearby, caused her to loose the last chance of keeping the meeting with Lando intact.

"Yeah, Lando Norris. Way hotter than Leclerc, I must say."

"I still don't understand why you love formula 1."

"They just know how to sell the story."

Surely, they were not talking about Lando. "Sure, there must be thousands of well known people called Lando," Y/N replied to her own question.

She took this as a sign, gave up on her principles and went full ballistic on her research. Downforce, penalties, the teams history, qualifying, chequered flag.

Since she was so deep in, keeping her obsession to herself as she had no idea with whom she could possibly share this, she might as well ask her mom for tickets money. The idea that she knew that he was just an hour away and she would miss that was simply not on the table.

Formula 1 race in an event meant for groups of friends to share their passion. So sitting there on the stand alone felt a little bittersweet. She made sure to push down any thoughts about seeing him up close again, let alone talking to him. It was something that half of the people present would try to do. And risking having him look through her, or worse - not remembering her - was not something she wished to live through.

But she cheered for him, she really did. Anytime he passed around her stand she got up, she watched him on the screen during interviews and when it became clear, he would have his best result of the season so far here at Imola, she celebrated with all those around her. Feeling proud that he was doing good. There was an electrifying energy in the air which could not compare to the times she watched races in her room on her laptop. If he had been standing near to her, she knew he would say something to beat himself up for missing a podium. And if she was standing next to him, she would tell him that he is an idiot and should also celebrate.

He looked a bit off during the interviews. Probably the crash few days ago. Y/N stayed sitting there just a bit longer than an average fan would.

Probably to avoid traffic...

part 3

______________________________________________________

Tagged all those who like to suffer: @prudyhoo @anuksunamon @sagestack @esquerkaren @ushygushybaby @superlegend216

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rizsu · 1 year

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gojo's somewhat nonchalant attitude will soon be the death of him. he does care, really, but if something isn't deemed worthy of his attention, he's going to treat it like nothing.

and that's the reason why you're so upset. he never listens. he thinks of your arguments as nagging. your worries to him are useless. why do you bother him when you know he loves you and you only? how many times must he show this? it's getting tiring.

like a lamp for moths, gojo's eye-catching appearance attracts men and women alike. he's an art that they want but can't. like a museum to the general public: you can look but you are not permitted to touch.

tonight you've both agreed on a date. it was nothing too extravagant—just two adults walking through their city, enjoying the night markets and bars. tonight was beautiful, the comforting feeling gojo brings you can't be placed into a sentence. his aura, for you, feels like a gift from above. a gift to you. but alas, not everything can escape the prison of jealousy. at the end of the day, human's crave what they can't have. they crave others' belongings. they feed off the feeling of obtaining something that'll never be theirs. simply filthy.

as if gojo was the newest toy on display, many wanted him. slowly, they consumed him and completely directed his attention away from you. to say you were offended is an understatement. you found yourself seething coming to the end. perhaps it was the alcohol's effect but gojo sure did enjoy the touches of the ladies. the suggestive way this one lady would slide her fingers up and down his bicep as if it's some kind of fidget toy. maybe the alcohol's working on you too but witnessing someone touch what's yours left a sour taste lingering.

you tried to tell him how you felt. you both always agreed that communication is the better option if any felt that an argument is creeping up. but to your dismay, not everyone's going to abide by the set rules. gojo just wanted to get home and he had no patience left to deal with your insecure nagging. with a headache swirling in him, he wanted nothing more than the soft mattress to engulf him.

“satoru, please just listen to me!” “quit it now.”

you're taken aback. his tone lowered. he did not dare to raise his voice yet it felt as though he yelled that he's sick of you. you know it's just your mind twisting his words but it stings. you wish he'd hear you—or rather, you wish you can turn back time and keep your words to yourself. is your concern really nothing but buzzing in his ears? sure, you admit, you're being stupid but still. you know and you don't need to be told that. as of right now, all you need is reassurance from him. all that's needed is for him to radiate his body's warmth on you. nothing more, nothing less. almost like a fixed law, humans are unable to get all their wants. you weren't able to get him tonight.

exhaling a shaky breath, you walk past him without a glance. swallowing hard to prevent the tears from ever dripping down. gojo watches you until your silhouette became one with the shadows from his view. the altercation from last night until now upgraded his headache. he needs some water.

gojo knows what's wrong with you. he knows you didn't like the way others mingled around him but he didn't do anything. again, he knows you know he loves nothing but you. loyalty is what gojo admires the most; he'd be damned if he ever became a cheater.

swirling the glass of water, he slouches on the chair, sighing at the unwanted replay of your reactions. just by the way you tottered past him he can tell you were close to crying. maybe you really were crying. but he can't—he just can't feel guilty. his headache is too far in for him to care about anything but getting rid of this godforsaken thing. he swears he'll apologize later. bouquets, sweets, money—anything you want as an apology he'd get. just wait for him, he'll be there.

#+ rizsu: jujutsu kaisen.#jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo angst #gojo satoru angst #jjk angst

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ghostofskywalker · 7 months

Text

Gorgeous

Loki Laufeyson/Fem!Reader

Fictober Day 31 of 31

Words: 1,220

Summary: Loki moved into the Avengers Compound, but the first time you saw him was at Tony's fancy Halloween party. Your brain stops working for a little bit because he's so pretty.

Note: today is the last day of fictober, happy halloween everyone! this was originally going to be based on the taylor swift song of the same name (one of my favorite songs from her!), but i think the story took control and we lost some of that along the way.

Loki Laufeyson Masterlist

It should be illegal for someone to look that good was the first thing that ran through your head the moment you laid eyes on him from your seat at the bar. You knew who he was, it was hard to ignore the fact that Avengers Compound was now home to not one but two Norse gods, and that one of them had tried to take over New York a few years ago. You hadn’t been part of the team at that point, but you certainly weren’t in the dark about what he had done. However, that apparently didn’t mean you couldn’t appreciate how good he looked in a suit, and a lot of embarrassing thoughts were suddenly flooding your brain.

It certainly didn’t help that this was the first time you’d seen him out of his room since he had arrived. He wasn’t bound to a single room (though you were pretty sure he wasn’t allowed to leave the grounds of the compound), but he simply chose to stay away from everyone else.

A voice interrupted your thoughts. “Staring at someone?”

You blinked, slightly embarrassed that Natasha had caught you, but you could tell from the tone of her voice that it was all playful. “Maybe,” you admitted softly. “But in my defense, it’s not like I’ve ever seen him around the compound.”

She laughed. “You do have a point there. I think the only reason he’s here tonight is because Thor is making him.”

You looked back over at the god, catching the expression on his face. “Oh definitely. He’s absolutely miserable right now.”

“He’s just lucky that it’s not a costume party,” Natasha said. “He’d be frowning even more.”

You laughed, an image flashing through your head of Loki wearing a gaudy-looking Halloween costume, with Thor and Sam laughing by his side. “That’s very true,” you said. Although Tony took any excuse he could to throw a party, he hadn’t imposed a costume rule on you all this time, and for that you were grateful, because at least you wouldn’t have to meet an extraordinarily attractive god while wearing a silly outfit.

“Why don’t we go over and say hello?” Natasha said, grabbing from drink from the bar and heading over to the direction where Loki was sulking in the corner. You followed her, the whole time incredibly aware of the fact that you needed to figure out something to say to him, and your brain had apparently taken a vacation.

“What do you want?” Despite Loki’s words being standoffish, his tone was more tired, as if he wished he was anywhere else but here at this point.

“I just wondered whether or not you had met Y/N yet,” Natasha said, gesturing in your direction.

“Hi,” you said, really not sure what else to say. It certainly didn’t help that your brain had apparently not returned from its impromptu trip away. “It’s nice to meet you.”

A normal person might have waited for a response, but your fight or flight response kicked in at this very moment, and it chose the latter of the two options. If you weren’t embarrassed already, you certainly were now, because you just walked away. You could hear yourself mutter something about getting a drink, but you weren’t sure if anyone else had even heard it. And besides, the clearly full glass in your hands gave your lie away completely.

After at least heading back to the bar and lingering there for a few moments, you started to walk back around the party, saying hello to those you recognized. You knew a lot of the guests, so it was easy to flit from conversation to conversation, all the while thinking about how ridiculous Loki must find you. Maybe if saw each other on another day in the compound you could apologize for running off like an idiot and try to explain that you thought he looked nice and for some reason decided to act like you’re twelve about it.

As the hours passed and the party’s energy remained loud and joyful, you found yourself settled on a balcony. The compound boasted a different view than the one you were used to in the tower, and you found yourself missing the lights and sounds of the city, especially because it was almost completely pitch black (other than the lights from around the building itself).

The sound of the door opening behind you caught your attention, and you watched as Loki took one step onto the balcony, stopping as he noticed you. “I apologize,” he said, starting to pull back into the crowded ballroom.

“Wait!” you said quickly, hoping that he would at least be willing to hear you out for a few moments. You never wanted him to feel unwelcome, you just had terrible conversation skills around people you think are attractive, and in that moment your brain had fully sabotaged you.

By some miracle he stayed, and the door closed behind him as he stepped fully outside with you. It had gotten to the point in the year that the night air was bitingly chilly, but you didn’t mind the way it nipped at your face if it meant getting away from the chaos of the party for a few moments.

“I want to apologize for my awkwardness earlier,” you said, before he could question why you had called him out here. “I don’t want you to think that I’m afraid of you.”

“Then may I ask why you ran away before I could even say hello?” His voice didn’t sound like it held any malice, but there was still an emotion in there you couldn’t quite read.

“Sometimes it’s hard for me to talk to new people,” you said softly. “Especially ones that are dressed as nicely as you.”

It wasn’t an all-out confession, but it still seemed that he understood what you were implying. “I understand,” he said. “I also get nervous in this realm now.”

“I can help you if you need any kind of Earth Guidance in the future,” you said, immediately worrying that you sounded eager or overly-annoying to him before tempering the statement with an “if you want.”

He smiled, and you couldn’t help the way your heart fluttered at the sight. “I will keep that in mind,” you said.

The sound of your phone’s ringtone going off popped the moment’s delicate bubble, and you looked down to see a text from Natasha asking for your help with something. Loki understood this time why you were leaving, and he said that you that he was going to stay on the balcony for a few more minutes.

As you took a step closer to the door, you heard him say your name. “I think you’re dressed nicely too,” he said before turning back to look out into the darkness outward, and two things happened the moment you stepped back into the party and closed the door to the balcony behind you.

One was that you had to physically push down a giant grin from spreading across your face.

And the other was that your brain took (yet another) impromptu vacation from its duties. If you were going to spend more time with him in the future, you would really have to get a handle on that.

- the end -

i no longer have a taglist! if you're interested in being notified when i post, you can follow my library blog @ghostofskywalker-library and turn on notifications!

#ghostofskywalker.fictober #loki laufeyson #loki laufeyson x reader #loki laufeyson x you #loki x reader #loki x female reader #loki x reader fluff #loki x you #loki x y/n #marvel x reader

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seduzist · 6 months

Text

that love, the crazy kind.

guinevere beck x fem! reader

cw: mentions of sexual harassment, stalking, obsession, murder, blood, smut (just a little), reader is kinda joe in this??? idk but they’re both crazy

beck was just different, different from anything you knew, she was the type of person that enchanted since the first time you saw her, looking for some book at the store you worked at. and since this day, you couldn’t stop thinking about her, stalking her anywhere, watch carefully every step she made.

didn’t take more than 10minutes for you to find out she liked girls, it was all over her social media, likes and shares here and there, it was like she was looking almost desperately for a girlfriend. and it has to be you, you were the one.

and of course, after some months of preparation, you showed beck that undeniable truth, she fall for you easily and just like you thought she was the perfect girlfriend. she was understanding and gentle, she was funny, sexy, lovingly, respectful, smart, and all of the things you’ve ever dreamed of.

everything was just how it should be. guinevere beck was just perfect.

until, that night.

one of her terrible friends invited you both to a stupid bar with stupid people and a stupid guy couldn’t stop looking at you. at first, she maintained her calm and silence, she wasn’t the jealous type, not at all.

she didn’t even lose it when he tried to hit you, asking you if he could buy a drink and giving a little drunk smirk that made she wants to take it off his face.

but when you denied the offer politely, telling him you weren’t interested, he tried to touch you, not your arm, or your hand, he tried to grab you by the waist and give you a kiss. of course you pushed him and told him to “get the fuck off”. he did.

beck was so perfect after this, she driven you home, told you to shower, helped you sleep with a nice mug of tea. she made you feel safe and sound like always, but that wasn’t enough, she had to actually keep you safe.

when you slept, she thought about the whole plan, she could stay with you all night, or she could go back to that stupid bar and make that idiot pay for trying to mess with was hers, and the second option looked way better.

so she got back, it was late at night, she waited in the totally empty and dark parking lot. the establishment wasn’t exactly the type that have cams on it, and by this angle she had the perfect view of who enters or leaves.

two hours passed, but beck was still wide awake, then she saw him, staggering pathetically, so drunk that at every step he didn’t fall could be considered a record.

she gets out of the car, approaching him, faking a smile.

“hi!” she said, getting his attention. “want to see something?”

[…]

when beck got back home, her clothes were drained in semi dry blood and she still had shiverings all over her, she did everything right? she got rid of the murder weapon, she disappeared the body, she made sure to drive back home in the way where there’s no cameras.

when beck took her dirty clothes off and went to a good and long shower, she made sure to take a good look at your sleeping figure, to remind her why she did all of this, it was worth it.

but if she truly trusted you and knew about your past, maybe if she had told you about what she did, you would have the opportunity to tell beck that a corpse floats on water after a few days of death, and that amounts of blood can’t go away in laundry, it must be burned.

when she did wake you up, through, it wasn’t to talk, it wasn’t even purposefully, she was just making noises and shaking the bed, when you looked at your side, you saw her, all naked with a pillow between her thighs.

“beck?” you called and she immediately stopped.

“i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to wake you up, baby.” her voice sounded genuinely sorry, but deep inside you knew she wanted you to wake up.

“it’s okay, keep going.” you whispered back, already sitting on the edge of the bed taking off your pajamas.

you couldn’t take your eyes off of her, her perfect body looked so good while pleasuring herself, you felt eager to touch her, but still undressed yourself slowly as she looked at you, like the sight alone made her even hornier.

when you finished, you get on top of her, taking the pillow off of her hands and kissing her instead, it’s like both of you were starving for each other, you didn’t know what made beck so eager but she certainly was.

you passed one leg through her waist, putting both of your centers together, it felt so good and warm, you couldn’t help but moan against her lips, starting in slow movements against her.

but when you looked down at her, you saw it, a little stain of dry blood just above her chest, you stopped immediately.

“what’s this?” you touched her skin, showing her exactly where it was the stain, she stuttered a few times but after some minutes she told you about everything. she thought you would be mad, or scared, she thought you would leave her, but you didn’t.

that night, you both made love more ferociously and lovingly than ever, for hours until your bodies couldn’t move anymore, that was the night when you and beck recognized you were equal, that isn’t a reason to hide each other’s feelings or personalities. that was the night where you felt like you belonged with someone, for the very first time.

#vanessa shelly smut #guinevere beck #beck x reader #you #fnaf vanessa #vanessa afton #vanessa shelly #vanessa shelly x reader #fnaf vanny #vanessa x reader #x female reader #x fem!reader #fem!reader #wlw #elizabeth lail

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ohbo-ohno · 7 months

Note

hear me out: ghoap x reader (noncon) in an abandoned factory. Reader only has an unreasonably short amount of time to escape before they get to keep her and do whatever they want to her

1k game here - no more please! im trying to get through these but they're slow going because im incapable of writing anything less than a thousand words apparently

1.8k of ghoap (mostly ghost) x reader chasing very scared reader through a factory :/ this is very similar to everything else i've ever written so nothing new here folks. (aka noncon!!!) btw this one is just pwp, nothin else much here to see

Your breaths heave out of you in pants, almost violent in their intensity. You feel like you can hardly breathe, but it doesn't matter. all that matters is running, getting away from the monsters chasing you.

You can hear them. Or, one of them at least. Johnny - the Scottish one, the one you'd been stupid enough to follow out of the bar in the first place. His partner - either Ghost or Simon, Johnny had called him both - your sure is silent as he moves. He'd blended into the shadows for so long when you first woke up, and you know he's doing it again.

You can't think about them. If you think about them for too long you'll spiral, and that is the last thing you need.

No, you have to run.

The old factory is a creepy place, cobwebs and dust covering everything, random creaking noises from machines, lights flickering on and off with no rhyme or reason. It takes all of your willpower not to scream when you feel a roach crawl across the toe of your heels.

The shoes are something you're still not sure if you made the right choice on - you can't walk silently in them, but you have absolutely no idea what you could possibly step on. The last thing you need is to somehow give yourself tetanus while running from your possible killers.

Still, the way you click-clack along the concrete floors makes you wince with every step.

"Where are you, bonnie?" Johnny echoes nearby. You've been trying to track him by listening to how many times his voice echoes, and he sounds very close now.

You duck into the first room you see, shoving yourself along a dark wall and fumbling around in the pitch black. The room must be windowless because there isn't even a hint of light, nothing that lets you see even vague shapes in the room.

Still, it's silent. You hear loud footsteps approach the door, and breathe out a large sigh of relief when they keep walking. Johnny shouts something indiscernible, and his voice fades into the distance.

You go limp against what you're sure is a wall, letting yourself breathe as heavily as you want now that you're sure there's no chance of being found.

The adrenaline makes your hands shake. Your lungs ache from the strain you've put them under, and you feel a little lightheaded from fear. But you try to shove all of that away - all that matters is that you stay away from your pursuers until morning.

The door opens.

Any peace you'd managed to find disappears in the blink of an eye, and you slap a hand over your mouth to stifle your whimper. The door opens inwards, and whoever steps in can't see from around it. You're safe until he lets it fall closed behind him, plunging the room into darkness.

It's got to be Ghost. Even without knowing them all that well, you know Johnny wouldn't be able to resist taunting you. You hadn't seen much more than a silhouette, but you're sure this is Simon.

You can't try and move. Your shoes are too loud, and trying to kick them off would be just as loud as walking. Your only option is to stand still and pray he doesn't find you.

He's silent as he moves. You can't hear breathing, or footsteps, or even if he brushes over something. The room is as quiet as it was before he found it. But you can't relax. Your legs are tensed in preparation to run, and your heart beats so loudly you're sure he could hear it if he came close enough.

But he doesn't. The room is silent, and he doesn't find you.

There's a point where you're nearly convinced that he never came into the room at all. Is it possible that you hallucinated him? That your exhausted and terrified brain conjured up a threat that isn't real?

It takes a long, long time, but eventually you start to relax against the wall. It must've been nearly ten minutes of dead silence now, surely you've just started seeing things. No man could stand that still, stay so quiet, for so long.

You let your arm fall from your face, puffing breaths into the slightly musty air. Another few minutes, and you'll move again.

"Boo," a voice whispers in your ear, from directly next to you.

You scream, leaping away from the sudden wall of heat at your side. It doesn't let you, a hand snapping out and grabbing you by your upper arm before you can fall. You scream again as he pulls you closer, don't stop screaming as he turns you around and pins you by the chest to the wall.

He's all man and heat as he presses himself to your back, lips hovering by your ear, breaths ghosting over the sensitive shell.

"Got you," he whispers, nipping at your ear. "Stop your wailin', you're alright."

You do not, in fact, stop wailing. It feels impossible to swallow the sobs spilling from your throat, like if you close your mouth they'll choke you. So you stand pinned to the wall, tears already spilling down your cheeks as you blubber mindlessly.

Ghost laughs over your shoulder. "Little crybaby, aren't ya? That's alright, doll, I don't mind a few tears."

You can feel him undoing his belt behind you, and that only makes you more panicked. You throw yourself back against him, desperate to get him off, but you're nowhere near strong enough to do anything.

Ghost grunts over your shoulder, using one hand to force you flush with the wall again.

"Stay," he grunts, naked hips brushing against your ass as he flips your skirt up. "Unless you want me to get a little rougher? That what you want, love? Want me to throw you down and fuck you until you bleed?"

You keen loudly, shaking your head as best you can with your face forced into the wall. "No, no, nonono, please, please, you can't- oh God, please don't-"

He laughs lowly, rocking his hard cock between your thighs. "Just Ghost will do, love. Now, let's stretch you out a bit, hm? No need for blood when you're good for me."

You're bone dry between your thighs, no room for anything but fear in your head. Simon doesn't seem to mind, slowly stroking over your clit until your body betrays you.

"There we go," he murmurs as you first start to leak onto his fingers. "Little more for me, love, c'mon."

You've got no choice but to obey. It's like Ghost has a manual on how to make you feel best, stroking over all the parts that make your cunt drool, using just enough pleasure to keep things feeling horribly good.

You sob against the wall, pressing your forehead so hard into the rough surface that it hurts. All you can do is stand still and take what he gives you, forced to bear witness to your own destruction.

He's silent as he slips one finger, than another, inside of you. You whine against the intrusion, the slight sting a horrible pleasure.

"Hush, love," he soothes, rutting himself against your leg. "You're almost ready, won't be much longer now."

That only makes you more distressed, and you sob into the wall.

He's true to his word and doesn't spend much longer fingering you, his own intent seeming to be to spread you out enough to take him. You hope the fact that he only used two fingers means he isn't too large, but the size of each finger tells you otherwise.

You can't help but cry out when you feel his warm head rest against your entrance. Your hands fist against the wall as you fight back every urge to lash out, knowing that'll only make everything worse.

Ghost laughs over your shoulder, like he knows exactly what you're thinking.

"Still for me now, good girl. Won't make you do any of the work, just gotta stand there and take it for me." He speaks as he pushes slowly into you, raising his voice enough to be heard over your sounds of pain and pleasure.

He's thick, so much thicker than the two fingers he stretched you with, and there's a moment where you think he really has made you bleed. The pain isn't sharp enough for that though, just a never ending push into the clutch of your body.

"There you go," he moans when his hips meet the meat of your ass, as deep inside of you as he can get at this angle. "You feel like heaven, doll, never felt a cunt this tight, fuck."

"Pl-please," you splutter, breath shaky. "Please don't, it hurts..."

"Oh yeah? It hurts?" He coos, hands stroking faux-comfortingly over your hip. "Poor thing, 'm just too big for your little hole, huh? You'll just have to relax, then, I'll make you feel good once I'm finished."

A little heartbroken noise slips from your throat, but you do your best to listen. There isn't much else to do but bear whatever he chooses to give, so you try to relax your muscles, letting the wall take your weight.

"Good girl, good girl for me," he breaths, grinding his hips deep into you.

You feel him inhale deeply against you and try to mimic the pace of his breathing, bracing yourself as he pulls out.

Mercifully, he's silent as he fucks you. He seems to be lost in your body, shoving his face into your neck and running his teeth over the thin skin over your pulse.

It feels almost dream-like, to be taken like this. You can't move with how closely he has you crowded, and the room remains the absolute pitch black - you can't even see the outline of Simon's form over your shoulder. It's like what's happening is stuck in only this room, and you tell yourself that when it's over, when you leave, you'll be able to pretend this never happened.

That illusion is ruined when the door opens, flooding the room with light.

You get another look at Ghost as he pulls his head away from your neck to look over - he's sweat-slicked and flushed, eyes narrowed as he looks to see the intruder.

"Aw, you started without me?" Johnny whines, leaving the door wide-open as he trots over to where you're pinned.

Ghost huffs a laugh over your shoulder, continuing to fuck you at his same pace, leaving you wracked with pleasure. "First come, first serve, Johnny - shoulda been faster if you wanted to play with her first."

Through teary eyes you can see that Johnny doesn't look all that upset as he leans on the wall next to you. He plants a hand in the center of your chest, pushing you back into Ghost to make just enough room for him to squeeze between him and the wall.

You're left using his body to hold yourself up, instinctually gripping his arms to keep from collapsing.

He nudges your chin up with one hand as Ghost starts to really pound into you, leaving you drooling onto his thumb.

"Don't worry, bonnie," he winks. "I don't mind sloppy seconds."

#sorry for that horrible last line LMFAO #ghoap x reader #bo writes #1k celebration

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arthenaa · 7 months

Text

Can't think right, too tongue-tied, It must be love | GOJO SATORU

5+1. 5 times Gojo Satoru's confessed to you through his cryptic love language and one time you've had enough.

note: fluff. crack. idiots in love. not proofread cuz im bz w commz. it's gender-neutral. based on experience cuz i like projecting myself into my writing. (if my clients r seeing this, im so sorry i just have to get this off my head or else i will explode) listen to the playlist for immersive reading (its actually part of the story! but its optional if yall prefer silent environments and prefer to listen later hehe)

story playlist:

01: Gee by Girls Generation

"Hey, check your dms."

He nudges you with his elbow—quite rudely if one might add but you've learned to deal with Satoru's little quirks after years of torment. Who wouldn't if you were subjected to concealed torture under the guise of tumultuous hiiiiiiii's, heyyyyyyyy's, and the occasional heavy ass arm around your neck that he keeps leaning on with his fucking weight because he claims, and you quote, "we're besties."

He's annoying and yes, you've since learned to desensitize yourself with his entire existence completely.

However, there are still times when he's managed to surprise you despite all the years of experience you've worked hard and traumatized (exaggeration, yes, but it's Gojo?) yourself for.

"Did you just send me Gee by Girls Generation?"

He looks up from his phone, the circular sunglasses drooping down with the raise of his eyebrows. He glances at you before looking back down again to his phone.

"Yeah?" He replies as if you shouldn't be asking him in the first place. You blink at him in confusion. "Reminds me of you."

"What?" You furrow your eyebrows. "Gee .... Reminds you of me?"

"Yeah," He responds with no hesitance. Somehow, this makes you squint your eyes at him.

"Are you trying to get something out of this?"

"No?" He raises his eyebrow before chuckling, raising his hand to gently bump his knuckles against your forehead. You flinch back at the sudden gesture.

He tilts his head with a smile. "Listen to it on the way home."

There's a pause of silence as you look at him with wide eyes, the phone screen dimming down with every second you leave it untouched. He then purses his lips, shrugs, and slips his airpods in before waving and wandering off to Geto who had just come out with Shoko from the convenience store with a bag of ice cream.

You furrow your eyebrows in confusion as the two erupt into laughter—Gojo swinging his arm around Geto in the process. You see Shoko turn towards you, an unlit cigarette stick hanging from her lips.

"Y/N!" She calls before nudging her head over. You sigh as the two walk on ahead, too immersed in their conversation to wait for the two of you. You walk over to Shoko as she waits for you with her hands tucked within the pockets of her sweatpants.

Shoko gives you a once-over as you take another peek at your phone. This is just him fucking with me probably. Surely.

"What's with you?" She asks with a drawl of her voice. She adjusts the cigarette with a roll of her lips.

You pocket your phone with a quiet sigh, eyes boring into the back of Satoru's head. "Nothing. Let's go."

02: Super Shy by New Jeans

The next time it happens is when your phone is connected to the Bluetooth speaker in the common area. It was a peaceful morning really, lounging in the kitchen bar, and drinking your coffee while listening to Laufey surely was one way to pass the time.

There weren't any missions for the second years and so you had the place all to the four of you.

You take another sip, eyes drowsily blinking as Bewitched by Laufey plays beautifully in the surround sound speakers that the school funded at the awful behest of Gojo Satoru. (Of course, he gets his way around the administration because they have no choice) It has its use despite how it was taken but past is past and you just want to snuggle yourself deeper in your oversized hoodie, the feeling of a fresh shower, a cup of coffee, and music.

Just as you took another sip of your drink, you heard padding of footsteps descending the stairs from the boys' side of the dormitory.

You turn your head to see the new addition to your peaceful morning only to let out a sigh at the sight of Gojo Satoru yawning, scratching his stomach, then finally turning towards you with a slight surprise—all in that order.

"Y/N," He greets, voice riddled with sleep as he waddles over to you, encasing you with his arms around your shoulders and head against your neck. "'m so sleepy."

"Satoru," You take a sip of your coffee, unbothered by the weight on your back as he almost completely nestles his weight on your body. "You're early."

He has half a mind to take notice of the soft tunes coming out of the speakers as he digs his face into your neck. You stay unbothered to his sudden need for physical intimacy as you place down your coffee to grab your phone.

He raises his head from your neck, chin on your shoulder as he notices your prolonged silence—presumably, distracted by something else. Turns out, he was right as he watched you rack through your playlist for a song to change to.

Taking the opportunity, he snatches your phone swiftly and pressing the search button to play something else entirely.

"Hey!" You complain as you grab his wrist when he tries to dodge your attempts to get your phone back. You force it down to your range of vision as he begins to search for whatever song he wants to play for the morning. "Please don't—"

"Too late," He grins, pressing Super Shy by New Jeans. Soon enough the playful beats of the song surround the area and he's back to his usual giggly and energetic self. He hugs you close and tight, shifting your body back and forth to the beat.

It's too early in the morning and you don't have the energy in you to stop this assault.

"Can you stop?" You whine as he gathers you tightly in his arms, cheeks mushed together, your arms pressed against your chest, and his face buried against your hair.

"Why?" He drawls out the last syllable with an annoyingly cute tilt of his voice. You want to body slam him to the floor. "This song reminds me of you though!"

There he is again.

You're not too sure if you should question it when he's holding this much energy in the morning. He tries to sway your body back and forth to the song and you could almost feel your stomach empty its contents when Geto finally comes to your rescue.

"Satoru!" Geto's voice reaches the kitchen with ease as he stops by the entrance and shakes his head. "Get off Y/N before they die, would you?"

"Fine," Satoru lets go of you reluctantly before trudging over to Geto who comforts him with the promise of making him breakfast. You send a thankful glance to Geto who gives you a sympathetic nod.

You let out a sigh. Your coffee has gone cold and another song from New Jeans' album plays on the speakers

You suppose interrogating Gojo can wait.

03: Love Lee by AKMU

Your eyes glance up from your phone to glare at the winter wonderland-haired boy sitting on one of the chairs to the far right of the classroom. He balances himself on its hind legs with his feet perched up on the table as he continues to type on his phone.

Few seconds later another ding alerts you of a notification.

There's a huff of laughter from his side of the room, presumably from your conversation. You let out a sigh, tucking your left hand in your pocket to cup around for your poor tangled earphones.

"Did he send you another song?" Shoko peers from your shoulder at the open conversation tab of you and Satoru's messages. You grumble in response as you pull the offensive knotted wires from your pocket.

The brunette heaves a sigh as she plops down to the seat next to yours. There's about an hour left before Professor Yaga bursts through those doors and disrupts your moment of reprieve. It's better to just make most of your time now.

You press on the link, leading you to your Spotify app as the song pops up on the player.

"Love Lee?" You say loudly enough for Satoru to hear amidst his conversation with Geto. "Really?"

"You say that as if AKMU isn't godly," Satoru retorts with a raise of his eyebrow. Suguru chuckles beside him, coughing into his hand as if to hide his laughter.

"This is the last time, Satoru." You comment as you slip one earphone to your ear. The blue eyed boy rolls his eyes.

"Is it so bad to send you songs that remind me of you?"

"I said, last time."

He raises his left hand and mimics talking in a mocking demeanor with a close and open of his fingers and thumb. You glare at him shortly.

You press play and the song hums a soft melody with its lowered volume within the speakers of your earphones. Shoko glances at you and then Gojo before shifting her body towards your armrest and resting her arms on it with her chin perched on top.

"He's not gonna stop is he?" Shoko asks with a soft smile on her lips. You glance down at her, hand coming up to brush a stray hair away from her face.

"He's just being Gojo," You retort with a sigh. You twirl a strand of her hair within your fingers. "He'll get bored soon enough."

Shoko stifles a giggle from her lips causing you to raise an eyebrow.

"Sure," She says with a roll of her eyes. You don't like her tone.

"Why'd you say it like that?"

"Like what?"

"Like you don't believe me." You frown deeply. Shoko glances down at your phone and then at you.

"You said he sent you D.O the other day."

"And?" You raise your eyebrow at her in confusion. You're not sure what to make of what she's saying but the steady gaze of Shoko's eyes on you somewhat makes you nervous.

"Rose," She adds as if she's trying to prove something already obvious. "Rose by D.O. Then he sent you Love Lee today."

"Yeah, I know?" You sound out the last syllable with a careful tone. Shoko eyes you once more before shaking her head.

"You're hopeless." She grumbles, opening the window to her side and lighting a cigarette. You furrow your eyebrows at her sudden frustration.

"What the hell does that mean?"

04: Only by Lee Hi

"It's good, I promise you!" Gojo flashes you with his cerulean blue eyes that seem to get shinier by the second. You feel uneasy under his stare as he tilts his umbrella to shield you further from the rain.

The two of you are walking to the Samgyupsal place that Shoko suggested eating out at. It had been a while since the four of you gathered in one place— You and Ieri often paired out in reconnaissance missions while the other two were sent to more physical curse-related operations. It wasn't exactly easy to find the right time to catch up but with luck on your side, the four of you coincidentally ended missions on the same week. Currently, You and Gojo have woken up late from an afternoon nap and decided to go there together. The other two had already left a few minutes earlier.

Bad news, it had rained on the way there. Good news, your umbrella was with you.

Since the walking Burj Khalifa had a taller physique and a longer arm, you gave him the role of keeping the both of you dry from the rain.

Your only problem right now though is that Satoru's doing his thing again.

"I thought I told you that last time is the last time?" You shoot him a stern look as he tries his best to give you his mimic of puppy eyes. Well, as much as he can with that sunglasses of his.

"But this one's really good though?" He pouts. "If you like Laufey, you'll like this one. C'mon, please?"

He pulls out one of his AirPods from his right ear before holding out to you. You give him a defeated look as he grins at you cheerfully.

You put it on with reluctance as he pulls out his phone to scroll through his long-ass playlist. You could only get a glimpse of it with how he used the scroll bar you couldn't even see with the amount of songs he's jam-packed in that collection of his. You ought to teach him the importance of sectioning his music, you suppose.

He then finally lets out a noise of victory when he's found the song he's looking for. Soon enough, piano instrumentals begin to play and the mood suddenly shifts to a mellow vibe.

Your chest huffs with recognition as Lee Hi's voice fills your ear with carefully woven melodies and detailed harmonies.

"Only?" You turn to him with a soft smile playing on your lips. He glances down at you with a smile as you both walk to the beat of the song.

"See?" He says. You look up at him with the subtle sway of your head to the addictive flow of the tune. "You like it."

"Of course, I do," You retort with a scoff. "It's Lee Hi."

"Yeah, yeah," He rolls his eyes before licking his lips as he turns to face the street once more. "I meant this. You're starting to like it, I can see it on your face."

You halt your footsteps, causing him to stumble as he tries to shield your body causing a few of the droplets to splash the side of his arm. He stares at you with wide eyes, awaiting your response.

"No I don't."

"You do."

"I don't."

"You do, though?"

"Nope."

"Okay, you don't." He peers at you with raised eyebrows as if he's waiting for you to say something else entirely. You furrow your eyebrows at him.

"You don't get to reverse psychology me, Satoru."

"Not even once?" He raises his pointer finger with a pout of his lip causing you to slap his hand away.

"No!" You put your foot down on this conversation because you know if you don't, Satoru's just going to start to defy until he's going to get what he wants. "Point is, I don't and you can't keep sending me songs for whatever reason."

"I literally sent you them because it reminds me of you."

"You sent me Sour Grapes in the midst of shitting."

"Okay?" He shrugs his shoulders high as if that shouldn't be enough to convict him of murder or something. "That was one time! I told you after that it reminded me of you though?"

"Yeah, like I would want someone to tell me that when they werejust having explosive diarrhea in the dormitory toilets."

"You're kinda mean sometimes you know that?" He huffs as his shoulders droop. In this lighting, he looks like a puppy ripped off its precious treats. You prevent a smile from blooming on your lips.

"It's my charm," You wink at him. He flushes under your watch. At the embarrassed flush on his face, you let out a few chuckles—admiring the way the redness of his cheeks spread to his ears.

"And, cut!"

Your moment gets cut off by a loud clap mimicking a clapperboard. You both turn toward the culprit as Shoko stands with her hands outstretched in front of her and clasped against one another.

"That was a wonderful shot. I'm sure you'll get Couple of the Year at the KBS Drama Awards." Shoko smiles as she tucks her hands in her coat. Your face flushes and soon enough you duck out of the safety of the umbrella with hands outstretched to grab at Shoko. The girl squeals as you chase her inside.

Satoru on the other hand doesn't come in for a minute and a half.

05: Signal by TWICE

"You're keeping a playlist?"

Geto chimes in as he rests his chin on your shoulder. It's the weekend, the day is free, and there's nothing to worry about so you and Geto are in the comforts of the common room in your shared dormitory, playing about 5 rounds of Valorant since 12 in the afternoon.

You glance at Geto who peers into the list of songs. They're mostly Korean pop (He's that obsessed okay) ranging from Girls' Generation to AKMU to TWICE then a couple of NCT, SEVENTEEN, and even Mamamoo. He reprimands you to not lose them buried and laid to waste in your messages because he says, 'I sent them so that means they're carefully thought of and that also means you have to remember them because I said so!'

You responded with a smack under the head and an array of curses you jumbled together in an attempt to scare him off.

It didn't work.

"He just sent me Signal by Twice." You groan as you add yet another song to the lengthy playlist that you only just curated a few days ago. Your eyes take a short glance up at the computer screen with the waiting time on standby as your match queued up in competitive.

Geto pulls away from your shoulder and gives you a raise of an eyebrow.

"Okay, I'm just going to be real with you because all of this is physically making my bones hurt and I'm not even in my twenties," Suguru heaves a sigh. "You've got to be that fucking dense if you don't get that at all."

Suguru looks at you as if you've just murdered his precious 2-year-old Chinchilla named Tiana. You stare back at him with the same intensity.

"You and Shoko have been saying the most cryptic shit—Should I have assumed something?" You retort with a furrow of your eyebrows.

"Should you not have?" Geto doesn't want to be the one to relay whatever Satoru's thought process is but this just has to be one of the most blatant shit he could come up of. He thinks the problem is the fact that it's you.

(To be fair, Gojo's never serious about anything unless it's curses, sweets, or the photocard album collection he has of Huh Yunjin piling on his shelves.)

You throw your hands up in the air and make a series of wild gestures that Geto would’ve laughed at if it weren't for that vein almost popping out of your head.

"Damn, my bad if I didn't get the memo?" You claim with sarcasm, your shoulders are raised and your hands are too busy making circular motions and random movements just to make a point. Damn, Suguru's really trying not to laugh. "Should I have broken down every single writing process, thought, idea and symbolical allusions that these songs went through or something?"

"That's too much of an exaggeration but not technically," Suguru responds with a smile. "It's really just common sense."

A ding from your phone cuts off your conversation causing both of you to peer down at the screen of your phone perched on your knee.

You conversation with Gojo opens and a realization comes next.

You press on the link and immediately takes you to your Spotify. Your breath hitches.

"He sent me Must be Love," You blink slowly before glancing up at Suguru. "He sent me Laufey."

The two of you look at each other before your hand pulls up the live lyrics from below. Soon enough, you confirm your thoughts. Suguru purses his lips as he peers down at the song playing. He scrunches his nose. Oh my Lord, he's cringe.

Suguru repeats your words with a sigh. "He sent you Laufey."

+1 : Must be Love by Laufey

Finding Gojo was a piece of cake (No it's not).

The boy's always wandering about and Principal Yaga's complaints about his absences always left the three of you grappling at whatever possible evidence that might lead you to grabbing the collar of his shirt and dragging him back home.

It was a problem, sure, but it didn't take long with careful observation that Gojo always visits one or two sweet shops regularly when he's craving a cavity or his frequent quiet spots around campus that no one seems to even consider because everyone just assumes that the almighty six eyes user will not subject himself to the cramped and dusty space just to stream and vote on Mnet.

This time, it was easy—too easy that he's actually just in his room because it only took him one glance from Shoko staring into his soul as he tried to sneak out again for him to go back into his room with his tail tucked between his legs.

So yes, you think it's a piece of cake (It's not).

"Do you like me?"

You barged into his room, and marched up to the foot of his bed as he screamed like a little girl with you glaring down at him. He pulls his covers up to cover him even though he's fully clothed. It would be funny if you weren't fuming right now.

"What the fuck?! Privacy?!"

"Yeah, whatever," You roll your eyes before shoving him your phone with the playlist on screen. "Do you like me? Answer the question."

Satoru looks at you with wide eyes and disheveled hair as he peers down at your phone then back at you.

"Can this wait? I still have to watch another episode of Leniverse—"

"Wait, my ass," You snarl as you push him back flat on his bed causing him to squeak before climbing in and encasing him with your leg on each side of his hip and your arms beside his head. You peer down at his terrified eyes but flushed cheeks with a determined look on your face. "Did you hear me complain about you playing me Super Shy the other day? Or fucking Signal?"

"What's wrong with New Jeans?"

"Nothing's wrong with them, it's you who's fucking weird," Your fingers grip the sheets as your breath falters. "Sending me songs as if I'd get that shit."

"... I did say it reminded me of you ..."

"No shit, Sherlock? you think I'd waste the time to assume things?" You deadpanned. Your cheeks flush as you look down at him with pursed lips. "Say it."

His eyes glance at the expanse of your face, admiring your soft little imperfections before raising his hand to move the hair blocking the light from your face. There's a moment of silence before he smiles at you.

"Hey," He starts off light and cups your cheek. "Look, I'm just gonna make this simple for you. You've got two choices—"

There's a certain familiarity with the way he's trying to normally recite the words. You furrow your eyebrows at him. "Are you ... Are you reciting Mina's intro?"

Gojo flashes you an uneasy grin before closing his eyes as he hits his head back against the pillow in frustration. "I didn't expect to confess today. Give me a break."

"So you resorted to that?"

"You didn't exactly give me a chance did you?!" He complains, tone raising defensively. "Acting like you own the fucking room— Which you don't by the way! I'd have you know that my family funded this dormitory so technically I own it. You can't barge in like that! What if I was naked? Or masturbating? Or worse, looking at my Mark Lee pc collection?!"

"I'm not sure as to what the basis is when it comes to ranking those things from least to worst but—"

"Ah Ah Ah!" He sticks his palm against your mouth causing you to be cut off from your response. He continues off on a tangent. "I'm not done! You also so blatantly mounted me at my most vulnerable moment and didn't even let me speak when you tried to interrogate me about my feelings. What if I suddenly just kissed you if I succumbed to my raging hormones!?"

You stare, deadpan as he continues to ramble off.

"After all the work I did," He whines. "The songs! The careful deliberation—"

You tug off his hand with a harsh pull. "There was no careful deliberation with sending those songs because you just fucking sent them for no reason at all!"

"What do you mean?! They all have one thing in common! I told you it reminded me of you!" He argues back. You're both shouting and arguing at each other whilst still in that damned position and you both could care less with it when this is happening.

"You weren't exactly specific, were you?! How the hell am I to even perceive that when I don't know what I'm looking for?!"

"It's right in your face, Y/N!" Gojo exclaims. "All of them are about love. All of them are about liking someone. I can't stress it enough that I basically just sent them to you in different fucking fonts."

You gape at him from your position above as his face completely submerges in a sea of red.

"My bad for being so fucking cheesy! Don't give me that look because Suguru told me he cringed to oblivion when he heard Love Lee. My mental capacity is at an all-time low right now so my shitty ass K-POP playlist will have to do." He delivers one last chance to defend his dignity before letting out a defeated sigh. "So yes, I do like you. Happy?"

There's a pause of silence as you look down at him with a steady gaze. You were already aware of it the moment this idiot delved into your side of music. Sure, you had half a mind to at least understand why he was doing it in the first place but Gojo was skilled in being Gojo. In being himself.

Serious in certain things but not all. Arrogant, selfishly unselfish, and just outright an asshole in a good way. You're not really sure how to assume things when there weren't any reassurance that you could in the first place.

He was too good in being a friend and now as he peers up at you through his beautiful white lashes with the nervous flush on his cheeks, you're suddenly sure about something else.

"If you're not going to say something, can I please just watch Leniverse and wallow in miser—"

"Shut up, Satoru," You whisper as you lean down on your elbows and press your lips into his. He lets out a shaky gasp at the feeling of your lips against his. He responds with ease, encasing you in his arms as he pulls you down to completely rest your weight on top of him. Your hands make way to cup his cheeks as you kiss him deeper with a tilt of your head. He follows your lead quietly before softly pulling away at the slight loss of breath.

You two look at each other with a certain daze in your eyes from the kiss, gaze darting back and forth from your eyes to your lips. He licks his lips (your eyes carefully following the motion).

"You're an idiot, y'know that?" You cut the silence off with a tender smile on your lips as you rest your chin on his chest. "You could've just told me you liked me like y'know, a normal human being?"

Satoru rolls his eyes with a grin. "I'm not exactly normal, am I?"

You nod with careful consideration. "You have a point."

There's a pause of comfortable silence as the two of you gaze at each others eyes before Satoru feels for his phone under the covers. You watch him as you lay your head on his chest, watching as he pulls up his playlist and begins to play the last song he sent you.

Laufey's vocals soon echo in his room and the soft sounds of the guitar accompaniment creates a mellow vibe between the two of you.

"Thank you," You whisper, reaching up to place a chast kiss on his lips. He smiles at the peck of your lips. "I did love it. If it's not obvious enough, I do like you too."

Gojo chuckles with glee as he pulls you to rest beside him in his arms.

"Okay, enough of that. Let's make out now." He pulls you close with a pucker of his lips. You angle your head back away from his assault with a laugh pouring from your lips.

"Stop it!"

"Fuck wait, gotta set the mood—"

"What are you— Why the fuck are you playing White Tee—?! Get off Satoru or I will body slam you into wet concrete. I swear to God—"

"What if?"

"You're sick in the head."

"Thanks, I call it love."

a/n: I was gojo in this and i often sent my ex random ass songs with no context at all and she'd always be like ? HAHA we're just friends now and I still send her stuff and now she knows to put it in a playlist whenever I do it <3 neways hope yall enjoyed this. first time writing Gojo! so mb if it was a lil ooc, had to just get it off my chest and project through his character. teehee. also the playlist serves as actual part of the story! yall can imagine its gojo who curated it for u hehe. have a great week ahead yall!

update: someone sent me who i'd think gojo's ult group is,,, if it isnt obvious from the fic its lesserafim 🫶🫶 he's an avid huh yunjin pc collector but he also listens to other groups like girls' generation, IU, and a sprinkle of nct bc noise core is somehow so like him 😁☝️‼️

#arthenaa #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk gojo #gojo x reader #satoru x reader #ieri shoko #geto suguru #Spotify

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suashii · 2 months

Text

𝓈𝒶𝓋𝒾𝑜𝓇 𝒾𝓃 𝒶 𝓈𝓊𝒾𝓉

kuroo tetsuro x reader. 1.3k wc. ﾉ sfw ﾉ fluff ﾉ kuroo and reader both work as interns ﾉ unrealistic labor laws ( for the sake of the plot :3 )

it’s noon, 12 p.m. on the dot, and you’re stuck in a conference room taking notes on a boring, long-winded presentation instead of getting lunch like you’re supposed to be. most of the items you’re tasked with as an intern turn out to be lackluster and this wouldn’t be so bad if you weren’t sure this meeting would drag on for at least another twenty minutes. it’s just your luck that you’ll be taking a late lunch on the day you skipped breakfast.

you’ll be lucky if your stomach doesn’t growl from the back of the room.

your focus lessens with each passing second and you find your eyes drifting from the powerpoint displayed on the projector to the glass wall separating the room from the hallway. the voices around you fade into background noise as you watch people walk by. you see the man who introduced you to the team on your first day, the woman who didn’t hold the door for you when your hands were full with everyone’s coffee orders, and finally, the group of your fellow interns—on their way to lunch, no doubt.

one of them in particular sticks out to you, tall frame and messy black hair. he must feel a pair of eyes on him because he slows and holds back from the rest of the group, head turning to look into the conference room. his hazel gaze meets yours.

kuroo’s eyebrows furrow in confusion. he points at the watch situated on his wrist and then down the hall. you don’t need words to tell what he’s saying. it’s time for lunch, you coming?

you shake your head subtly, not trying to garner the attention of anyone in the room. you’re supposed to be working, after all. with the end of your pen, you point to the screen. can’t, i’m stuck in here for who knows how long.

at your reply, kuroo frowns, lifting his finger up to the corner of his eye and dragging it down his cheek like a lone tear. it almost makes you laugh but you bite back the sound in just enough time.

you’re tempted to wave at him, though, you’re sure the gesture would be enough to tell every one of your superiors that you aren’t paying attention. and while that fact is true, you’d rather not be scolded for it.

so you give him a sad smile and kuroo waves for you.

with a sigh louder than you intend it to be, you turn your focus toward the front of the room and pick up where you left off on your notes.

by the time you’re free from the dull air and monotone voices of that meeting, you’re only left with fifteen minutes to find and eat something. it’s not enough time to leave the office like you usually would, so it’s starting to look like your only option is going through the snack drawer at your desk.

you click your tongue in annoyance as you navigate the hallways that lead to your work area. you’d bet money that everyone else in that room still gets to enjoy your entire hour-long break. meanwhile, you’re stuck getting through the rest of the day on a measly granola bar or pack of crackers.

the only thing that slows you down on your mission is a shout that you’re almost positive is directed at you. “hey, speed racer! over here!”

your head jerks in the direction of the familiar voice. it came from the break room where you typically take your lunch with the other interns and it doesn’t take you more than a second to match it to kuroo. he’s standing in the doorway, one hand stuffed in his pocket and the other holding up a store-bought bento box.

“want this?” he asks.

the tension in your shoulders melts away upon hearing his offer. you clasp your hands together in a show of thanks as you approach him. “my knight in shining armor.”

kuroo laughs—snorts, really—as he holds out the meal for you to take. you happily do so, smiling up at him before making your way into the break room. the others have all but finished eating and are using what little time they have left of lunch to relax—chat about things that don’t concern work, scroll aimlessly on their phones, whatever they want.

you’re envious, though, you do suppose you’re lucky enough to have someone like kuroo looking out for you. he didn’t have to buy you the bento but he did anyway. you pull out a chair at the table kuroo was at before flagging you down, plopping down in the seat and popping off the plastic lid of your meal.

kuroo has taken his seat next to you and as you take hold of your chopsticks, you look up to ask him, “how much do i owe you for this?”

he shakes his head. “it’s a gesture from the kindness of my heart.”

you believe him. if there’s one thing kuroo is, it’s considerate. that’s probably why you like him so much. he keeps you sane in the chaos that is your internship. you’re sure you would have crumbled under the pressure of it all if kuroo wasn’t here experiencing it with you. his kindness deserves to be repaid.

“well, if you don’t want my money, how about i get lunch for you tomorrow?” you stuff a lump of rice into your mouth. it’s plain, but the first thing you’ve eaten all day so it tastes heavenly as far as you’re concerned.

“sure.” he grins. “if you’re not trapped in another meeting.”

you roll your eyes, holding a hand up to your mouth to shield your chewing from his view. “don’t even get me started.”

kuroo breathes out a short laugh, running a hand through his dark hair. each strand nearly stays in place despite the action. “what was it about anyway?”

“budget for the upcoming quarter.” at least, that’s what you gathered. you were pretty much on autopilot the entire time you were taking notes. “they spent the last half an hour trying to compromise over cuts. it was torture, kuroo.”

you’re being dramatic—you know that and he does too but it doesn’t stop him from telling you, “ i would have traded places with you in a heartbeat.”

the sincerity in his tone and in his eyes catch you off guard when you look up from your food at him. he isn’t joking around to appease your theatrics—he means what he said. he’d sit through that meeting and almost miss lunch if that meant you didn’t have to.

you try to hide the smile spreading across your lips by taking another bite of food—rolled egg this time. “you’re too nice to be going into business. i wish everyone in this office thought like you.”

kuroo chuckles and shrugs, like your compliment was unwarranted. “all the more reason to do it, right?”

he’s right. the world could use more people like him. although, you doubt anyone could ever match kuroo tetsuro.

there’s a knock on the door even though it’s open. one of your supervisors. “five minutes until everyone needs to be back at their desks.”

the room erupts in half-hearted sounds of understanding. the reminder ignites you with irritation. does he think that none of you know how to read a clock?

“gonna be able to finish that in five?” kuroo asks, pointing to what’s left of your bento.

you nod. “don’t worry, i don’t plan on wasting a bite of your kindness.”

you and kuroo spend the last few minutes of your break talking about nothing in particular. as you sit beside him, listen to him, you realize that you’re really looking forward to coming in tomorrow. all because of him.

thanks for reading! if you enjoyed, please consider reblogging or commenting :3

#₊˚ପ⊹ signed: haikyuu #kuroo x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #kuroo x you #haikyuu x you #kuroo fluff #haikyuu fluff #kuroo drabble #haikyuu drabbles

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wttcsms · 28 days

Text

repeat offender, hiromi higuruma.

pairing hiromi higuruma x f!reader word count 1.9k synopsis vignettes of hiromi higuruma's life, featuring his inevitable early-onset mid-life crisis, his disillusionment with the justice system, and how he can't seem to shake you off. content contains law partner's daughter!reader, no curses au, corporate/big law lawyer!hiromi, bratty, always trying to get a reaction out of him reader x just trying to survive the day hiromi, slight age gap (hiromi is 26, reader is 20), eventual smut in later parts, sfw but suggestiveauthor's notes something a bit different; just wanted to test out diff narrative formats lol (and also, this was the closest thing in my gdocs to being finished & i feel guilty for not giving y'all new content)

all the wrong dialogue options were chosen here

Despite the ceiling clearance being so high that it’s enough to make a man of his stature feel small and the fact that despite all the warm bodies in this banquet hall right now, it would still be more of a challenge to bump into someone rather than avoiding them; despite the fact that the air conditioning system must be working overtime since he hasn’t felt the need to shrug off his tuxedo jacket once, despite the fact that he’s free to leave at any time he wants since he’s already gone through the obligatory introductions and the empty pleasantries—

—despite it all, Hiromi Higuruma feels trapped. The walls are slowly closing in on him, and someone from across the massive room is laughing a bit too loudly, and the ceiling, with its intricate crown molding, feels like it’s going to collapse onto him at any second.

That’s the problem when you decide to be someone you’re not. He’s constantly on his toes, always having to look behind him, always trying to make sure his mask isn’t going to slip. Fresh out of law school. Top marks, top of his class, actually. As expected, as always.

Hiromi is used to setting the curve, so it doesn’t take him long to learn how these circles operate. Laugh at the right jokes, order the right drink, find the right people to praise, the right suit to wear — he’s good at figuring out the right answers to everything.

“The party’s never going to end, so if you feel like leaving, you might as well just go now.”

Hiromi turns to face the source of that sentence, only to have to glance downwards, taking in the sight of you. Glossy lips, long lashes, slinky gold gown clinging to the curves of your body. He swallows. Hard.

You smile. Sweetly.

“Before you go, though, you mind getting me a drink from the bar?” You point to the bar that’s across the room, the area Hiromi just left, one old-fashioned in his hand.

The first wrong thing Hiromi says is, “It’s an open bar.”

Your shining smile barely falters, but he catches the subtle curve of a frown almost taking shape.

“Do you really think I could fight off that crowd?” You give him a faux pout, one that only emphasizes the pretty shape of your lips.

Looking like that, he thinks you wouldn’t need to fight the crowd to get the bartender’s attention. Everyone would probably be clamoring for yours, actually. He doesn’t tell you this, though. Instead, he says, “Like you said, I might as well just go now.”

Boo. This stranger is no fun. What a waste of good looks, you think to yourself. Taking in the way his body fills out his suit, the tall bridge of his nose, the sharpness of his features — maybe it’s for the best that he’s no fun. You’re not sure how you would be able to keep your cool if he actually was interesting.

“Don’t just paraphrase. I remember saying that after telling you you should do that if you feel like leaving.”

He wonders what you’re doing here, at one of the biggest charity galas sponsored by the big law firm he’s going to be joining shortly after his graduation. There’s no way you’re a law student; only a select few final year students were invited in the first place. He can’t fathom you being someone’s plus-one; looking like that, he certainly wouldn’t be able to let you out of his grasp.

He doesn’t ask you anything, though. He doesn’t compliment you, or say anything that’s on his mind. Instead, he hands his half-empty glass to one of the catering employees walking by that’s collecting dirty glasses, and he tells you, “I’ll be heading out now. Good luck with the bar.”

It certainly wasn’t the right thing to say, but being a genius comes with some pressure. He figures he’s allowed to give out a few incorrect answers every once in a while.

apex predator

The click-clack of your four-inch heels making impact against the tiled floors of your father’s law firm serves as a signal to everyone that they need to seek immediate shelter (read: cower in the nearest coworker’s office) and try not to make direct eye contact with you.

When the boss’s daughter comes to visit, everyone’s on edge.

Everyone except the new hire.

Hiromi Higuruma is by no means slow on the uptake, but he’s clocking in the most billable hours out of everyone. Very rarely does he get a chance to take a break, and he doesn’t plan on wasting what few precious minutes of a break he can get on hiding from some brat whose single defining characteristic is sharing the same last name that’s plastered on this skyscraper of a building.

When he passes you by in the hallway, you catch a glimpse of him from the corner of your eye. Broad shoulders, slim waist, and a familiar slope of a nose bridge you’ve seen before. You almost falter in your footsteps — almost.

bucket list idea: fuck in an elevator

There’s something intimate about being in the same elevator as someone else.

When there’s a handful of people, it’s casual. Simple. Someone who forgot deodorant, someone who’s running late for work, someone who just burnt their tongue trying to drink their coffee too fast. All of it is mundane.

Being in an elevator where it’s just you and him — you haven’t decided yet if it’s a gift or a punishment.

“My father loves the work you’ve been doing,” You’re the first one to break the silence. You can only hope that he’ll be the first one to break the distance between you two: a respectful four feet apart.

Hiromi clears his throat, straightens his tie. He’s staring straight ahead, right at the shiny silver of the stainless steel doors. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me. I’m not the one who said anything about your work.”

The corners of his mouth almost turn up at that. He fights the urge to smile.

“Then thanks for the honesty.”

“Do you like that?” You ask him.

“Like what?”

“Honesty?” You ask it innocently enough, but when you give him those eyes, and make your lips form that pout, everything comes out sounding sultry. He’s convinced you could be reading his most recent M&A deal out loud to him and make it sound like you’re reading an erotic romance.

“Well, I’m a lawyer.” He finds that he has to bite back his smile when he’s around you. He stares at the slowly changing numbers on the screen. The two of you entered from the parking garage, and the elevator’s making its steady ascent to the thirtieth floor.

“So that’s a no.” You muse.

Hiromi makes no comment.

whatever pays the bills, i guess

Hiromi Higuruma, unlike every other undergrad trying to get into law school, does not take… creative liberties when it comes to his personal statement on why he wants to become a lawyer. Potential medical school students lie and say they want to “save lives” because “living with six-figure student loan debt for the first decade out of school and then making crazy bank afterwards seems like a good trade-off” just doesn’t sound very awe-inspiring, does it?

In another life, he thinks he’s probably a defense attorney. Representing the Little Guy. Keeping alive his desire to uphold the principles of justice and that the wrongfully accused receive fair representation. Even with the odds stacked against his client, he’s certain that he’s good enough to win their case.

However, the world is unfair. Doing the good thing rarely pays off. Being a good person doesn’t get you very far, either. One of his former classmates was such a bright, kind girl. Passionate statement of purpose, too. She applied to all the same law programs as Hiromi and got accepted to exactly zero of them.

Hiromi got into every single one, and his statement of purpose was honest, straight to the point, and damn-near clinically cold.

I need a competitive environment that takes pride in its intellectual rigor, but I have no desire to pursue medical school just to spend a decade in college and residency. Law school seems most appropriate for my needs.

who hired the intern?

Hiromi doesn’t know what you do around the firm, just that you’re constantly here.

Even when you’re not physically present, he still finds traces of you lingering everywhere. The scent of your perfume that sticks to the elevator’s walls, your now-empty medium sized iced matcha latte in the trashcan of the breakroom, whispers of your names when his colleagues are in the mood to gossip, the click-clack of your heels that he can hear from inside his office even though his door is closed.

He can’t tell if you’re just inescapable or if he’s constantly subconsciously seeking you out. He doesn’t want to know the answer.

What he does want to know the answer to is why you’re sitting on top of his desk at seven in the morning, your medium sized iced matcha latte in all its green glory (this is the first time he’s seen it full and not as an empty plastic cup in the trash). You’re wearing a fitted white button down with a gray wool skirt that will have the HR manager doing a wide-eyed double-take when you walk past her. Your legs are crossed, and Hiromi scolds himself for noticing.

He focuses on your face instead, upset to see that you’re still doing that unfair move of yours — that pout, those eyes.

“What are you doing in here?” Hiromi manages to get the words unstuck from his throat. He’s not even sure how you got the keys to his office, and then he remembers who your father is.

You smile brightly.

“My dad says I need some ‘resume-boosting’ activities, and how convenient is it that the firm is looking for an off-cycle intern?”

How convenient, indeed.

“Still doesn’t explain why you’re sitting on top of my desk.” During your chirpy exclamation, Hiromi manages to pull himself together. He’s getting a few steps closer to you. He’s not going to sit behind his desk, not yet, but his approach only serves to bring you two into closer proximity. If you stretch your legs, the pointy tips of your stilettos will brush against the fabric of his trousers.

“Well, every intern at the firm is apparently assigned a lawyer to work under. Y’know, to be a mentor.”

He can’t decide if he likes or detests where this is going.

“And,” you continue. “Dad only wants the best for me. It’d be, like, kind of suspicious to be working directly alongside my father, though.” Yes, Hiromi muses. Because getting a law internship at one of the most prestigious firms during your undergrad is certainly not suspicious at all. “So, the next best thing would be the so-called prodigal lawyer that everyone can’t stop praising. How convenient is it that you’re able to watch over an intern for the semester?”

“Very convenient.” Hiromi raises an eyebrow. “Are you going to get off my desk now? I can’t imagine you’ll be able to learn much if your back is going to be facing me when I’m sitting at my desk.”

“Whatever you say, sir.” You hop off the desk, gently tugging your skirt down in place. He keeps his eyes focused on your face the whole time.

#hiromi higuruma x reader #jjk x reader #jjk x you #one shot #drabble #fluff #imagine #jjk headcanons #hiromi higuruma x you

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peterman-spideyparker · 2 years

Text

Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy (Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader)

Author’s Note: Happy Halloween, everyone! Yes, it’s still technically Halloween, so I’m getting this in while I still can. I kept meaning to write this all month, but I never actually remembered to--one Hocus Pocus viewing later, and voila! Enjoy! :)

Summary: Getting in the holiday spirit, you, Matt, Karen, and Foggy to a themed Halloween costume, enjoying drinks at Josie’s after work when you make a passing comment. Come the end of the night, an opportunity arises that lets both you and Matt explore your words from the bar.

Warnings: Fluff (friendly banter, Matt and Reader are close, Reader knows about Matt’s hobby), swearing, smut (oral- f!receiving (cuz Matt can’t help himself), cowgirl, praise, p in v unprotected sex, more smut insinuated), bad plot because I wanted to write this so don’t @ me

Other Characters: Foggy Nelson and Karen Page

Word Count: 2,363

“Well, if I do say so myself, we look good,” you sigh as you lean against the bar counter. “I think we need to do an office theme group costume every year.”

“I don’t know about that,” Matt he says, clearing his throat before sipping his beer.

“No, I agree with (Y/N)—we look damn good,” Foggy seconds, tipping his hat.

“Agreed,” Karen sighs. “Best law firm in the west.”

“I just don’t remember agreeing to the Western theme,” Matt adds with a shrug.

“Well, it is what it is. And, think of it this way: we’ll be an economical option for any new faces that wander into the bar or we meet in passing tonight.”

“I’m not following,” he trails.

“Well, you know what they say, Murdock. Save a horse, ride a cowboy,” you tease, lightly bumping your hip into his. Matt clears his throat as he shakes his head in amusement and annoyance while Foggy and Karen double over in laughter.

“It wasn’t that funny,” you say with furrowed brows. “How much have you two had to drink?”

“We might have started at the office while you guys wrapped up at court,” Karen admits, but you can tell there’s something off in her response.

“Well, don’t go too nuts, yeah? My liver hurts at the idea of how much you two might drink tonight.”

“And I don’t think (Y/N) or I want to have to maneuver the streets of New York on Halloween to make sure you get home safely,” Matt adds.

“Mm!” you hum, cutting your drink short to agree with Matt. “And don’t even try to counter with cabs and ride-shares—never on Halloween.”

“Fine,” Foggy concedes. “We won’t get too sloshed, I promise. Scouts honor.”

“You weren’t a Scout,” Matt interjects.

“Just take the sentiment, hm?”

Matt and you turn to one another, speaking in your longtime friend telepathic bond before you turn back to your friends and tip your hats in unison.

“Sounds good, partner,” Matt says with a twang.

“Yeehaw,” you second.

“You should really wear flannels more, Matty,” you tell him as you walk arm and arm down the sidewalk, Foggy and Karen having broken off to walk towards their apartments.

“Thanks,” Matt nods. “I’ll make sure to add some to my shopping list.”

“Come on, it feels soft, and it must be keeping you nice and warm.”

“It is. You good? Staying warm?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Anyways, I have a human radiator walking next to me. It’s just a bummer that your apartment is before mine.”

“I’m not letting you walk home alone. I thought you knew me better than that.”

“And I’ve told you I don’t like you walking home by yourself, either. You might have all your abilities to back you, God forbid anything ever happens, but to the rest of the world, you’re just a blind man walking the street. I worry about you, Matty.”

“Well, how about you just stay over tonight?” he suggests. “We don’t have to worry about each other. I’ll even throw my Columbia sweatshirt in the dryer since you’re chilly.”

“What, no cuddles?” you joke.

You don’t need to have Matt’s super hearing to hear how his breath hitches at my words.

“I mean, if it’s a dealbreaker, I guess I can cave on it,” he chuckles.

You move to take off your hat, holding it in your hand as you rest your head in his shoulder. “Okay, Matt. You’ve got yourself a deal, lawyer-man.”

Matt laughs lightly a little more, holding your close as you round the corner to his building. When you make it up the stairs and into his loft, you hum in delight as you feel the warmth of Matt’s apartment wrap around you like hug, the lights from the billboard bathing the entire place in glorious reds and blues.

“Let me go get some clothes and throw them in the dryer for my chilly best friend,” Matt smiles, putting his hand lightly in the small of your back as he moves behinds you. The movement brings goosebumps to your skin and makes your cheeks burn hot. “You alright?”

“Yeah,” you lie. “Still a bit cold, I guess.”

“Then it’s good I’m going to warm you up, then.”

You take a deep breath in through your nose and bit the inside of your lip, trying to keep the tingliness you feel at bay. While he does that, you sit on the couch, tucking your legs under yourself as you wait for him.

“Those should be good in fifteen minutes,” he says with a smile, glasses off, sitting next to you. “You’ll have to suffer just a bit longer, I’m afraid.”

“I think I’ll survive,” you sigh dramatically, resting your head in your hand, your elbow propped on the back of the couch.

“You have fun tonight?”

“I always have fun with you guys. The question is if you had fun.”

“I did,” he smiles, copying your body language. “But I think you want to tell me something, though.”

“That’s not fair you can tell things like that,” you grumble.

“But spot on,” he smirks.

“Yeah,” you sigh. “Listen, I’m sorry if what I said at the bar crossed a line.”

“What did you say?”

“The horse and cowboy thing.”

“It’s okay. You saw the opportunity and took it. It’s a good joke. And it’s okay to be a little horny on Halloween.”

You swallow as you feel your heart begin to tick up. “Are you saying you’re horny tonight, Matty? Is that why you invited me back?”

“No.” You’re suddenly very aware of how close he is. “But I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about it.” His forehead rests on yours. “Please tell me you’ve thought about it.”

Leaning forward, you close the small gap between you and feel his lips on yours, soft, warm, and welcoming. His hand cradles your cheek, slowly moving to the back of your head, threading his fingers in your hair. You sigh into his lips, focusing on the way his scruff scratches against your skin and how his mouth moves against yours. While you get yourself lost in the fluidity of his lips, you’re unaware of how his body reacts to you. When his hands move to grip your waist and bring you on his lap, you gasp, your lips opening into an “O” as a bright smile spreads along his face. You bring your hands to hold his face, pulling him back in for a deep kiss, your bodies rocking back and forth on the couch. Matt’s finger scrunch up the blend of your shirt in an effort to hold you impossibly close to him, pulling his lips from yours to press large, damp, needy kisses along your jaw and down the column of your neck. You whimper as his mouth secures around your pulse point, feeding on the flesh like a hungry animal.

With a grunt, Matt lifts your bodies from the couch and takes purposeful steps toward the bedroom, his mouth never once faltering from its work on your flesh. Matt leans over on the mattress, locking your body between him and the bed as he moves his fervent kisses from your neck back to your lips, but not before retracing the path he initially took. When Matt’s mouth reaches yours once more, he slips his tongue in, exploring how you taste, smushing your noses together. Your legs latch around his waist, pressing the strained tent in his jeans against your core that you feel growing wetter with each passing embrace.

You clear your head long enough to pull your lips from Matt’s, placing quick and sloppy kisses all over his face before moving to tug at his earlobe. The moan that escapes Matt’s lips is sinful, dipping his head just so to kiss your chest.

“Matty,” you whisper in his ear. “Matty, please. Let me takes these off of you.”

“Yeah angel?” he hums, dragging his nose up your throat.

Removing his body from yours, Matt doesn’t waste any time, ripping open his shirt and quickly discarding the material to his left on the mattress. While he works to get his jeans off, you mimic his movements and take your clothes off as fast as you can when you get an idea. Your panties come off with your skinny jeans and you quickly remove your bra, but not before Matt lowers his lips to your bare stomach and right to your pussy, waisting no time. Judging by the pace that he laps and sucks at the skin, he’s either incredibly horny, or he has thought about doing exactly this for a long time—the manner that his hands palm and squeeze the meat of your spread thighs make you inclined to believe it’s the second one.

Abruptly, he pulls his lips from your core and brings them back to my lips for a deep kiss and letting you taste how you mix with him. The embrace is sloppy and raunchy, making your head spin with delight. Feeling how his rock hard cock presses against you, you take advantage of the situation, rolling you around on the bed and moving down the length of his body.

“Not so fast, Matthew,” you chuckle, gently taking hold of the base of his cock, the heavy weight of his length nothing short of glorious in your hand. Tentatively, you lick the tip of his pink head, tasting the saltiness of his precum and spreading it around before slowly take him in your mouth. Matt lets out a throaty moan, and you hear his head drop onto the pillow. What you can’t fit into my mouth you supplement with your hand, moving up and down him at a steady pace, using your tongue to feel the veins and minute contours of the muscle. The more excited you get, the sloppier your movements become, and the faster the whimpers and whines fall from his lips.

“Angel,” he pants. “Fuck, you’re doing so good for me. Good girl, good gi—fuck. Just like that.”

With a delighted hum, you move back up from his length and release him with a loud pop.

“If you liked that, Matty, I think you’ll like what comes next,” you smile.

Giving him a few more pumps, you move to straddle this hips, hovering just slightly. Sliding on his discarded flannel, you tie it tight just under your breasts and lean forward to take the cowboy hat from his head that has managed to stay on this entire time, putting it on your own. A dopey, lopsided grin spreads across his face.

“And what do you have planned, exactly?” he asks with a quirk of his eyebrow.

“What I said earlier tonight,” you tell him, positioning his cock right at your entrance. “I’m going to ride a cowboy.”

With that, you sink down on his length and feel a glorious stretch. Your eyes close in delight, and you can only assume Matt’s expression matches yours from the way he interlaces his fingers with yours. Taking a moment to adjust to his length and girth, you slowly begin to move up and down him. Your moans and pants slowly start to fill the room, the sound making your heart race and your skin grow warm.

“So big, Matt,” you moan as you switch from up and down motions to rocking your hips back and forth. The change makes Matt cry out in pleasure, pulling his fingers from how they’re clasped to hold tightly to the flesh of your hips, guiding you to keep a steady rhythm. One of your hands moves to rest on his abdomen while the other holds onto the hat to keep it on.

“S-shit,” he curses. “You feel so good for me, riding me like that, sweetheart. So wet, baby.”

“Matty,” you moan as you move my hips faster.

“I know, I know. Give me those curves, baby.”

Leaning forward, you move down and kiss him, allowing him to continue guiding your hips.

“Fill me so good,” you mutter into his skin. “Hit the spot.”

“Yeah? You like how I feel in you? Huh? Fuck, you’re perfect.”

The pace and angle starts to become too much, your breathing becoming more erratic and your cries more desperate.

“Are you gonna be a good girl and cum for me?” Matt grunts in your ear, placing kisses wherever he can on your face. “Can you do that for me?”

“Y-Yes,” you pant, focusing only on Matt’s skin and how his heart thunders in his chest. It’s just enough to push you over the edge, and you squeeze his cock, your hands desperately clutching onto his shoulders while his hands maintain your momentum. “Matt!”

“I know, I-I’m clo—ohh, fuck!” Matt moans, his hips slapping hard into you, filling you with his load. “Fuck, angel!”

As you ride out your highs together, you collapse on his chest, your chests heaving from the exertion.

“Howdy,” he chuckles, pushing the hat back to kiss your forehead.

You giggle before you return the greeting: “Howdy.”

“You’re really good at that, you know.”

“You’re not half bad yourself, Murdock.”

Bringing your lips back to his, you kiss him once more, the sweetness and slow nature of the embrace different than the heated passion from your other exchanges. Matt takes the hat from your head, putting it somewhere to the side as he rolls you over, somehow staying inside of you in the change of position.

“Still want those clothes from the dryer?”

You smile and shake your head in disbelief. The sass of this man is incredible.

“I think I might be okay, especially if you let me stay in your arms for the night.”

Matt’s fingers ghost up to the knot of his shirt on your body, letting the cotton blend fabric fall to the side and expose your breasts as he lets his lips hover just over yours, teasing you as the corners of his curl up. “I don’t see that being a problem at all, angel. In fact, I don’t have any intention of letting you go.”

Permanent Taglist: @majesticavenger @steampowerednightvaler @themusingsofmany @just-the-hiddles @toozmanykids @dangertoozmanykids101 @clints-worldavengers @theburningbookshop@itwasthereaminuteago @peter1ismybrother@hellskitchens-whore @dpaccione

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nonbinary-eddie-munson · 1 year

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Steve hadn't meant to evesdrop on eddies new band. Really, he was an innocent party here.

Once things had calmed down in the aftermath of Vecna, Steve and Eddie had scrounged up every penny they could -steve even sold his precious beemer so they could have the extra cash- and got the hell out of dodge. Eddie couldn't stay in a town where everyone still looked at him like he was a murderer and Steve loved Eddie too much to keep him trapped in a town that hated him.

They had settled into chicago nicely, far enough away from the hellmouth that was hawkins, indiana that they werent constantly jumping at the sight of their own shadows, but still close enough they could be back in less than a day if shit started going down again.

The metal scene in chicago was just starting to take off, and Eddie quickly fell in with a local band that was in need of a new lead guitar. Steve had yet to meet any of Eddies new band members, his work and class schedules keeping him entirely too busy and exhausted for socializing. All of which led to this moment, Steve hovering awkwardly at the end of the hallway leading backstage as Eddies new bandmates tore him apart.

"Seriously how'd a guy as hard core as Ed end up with a preppy little asshole like that, i mean did you see what he was wearing?" The drummer scoffed

Self-consciously Steve worried at the hem of his black polo, he had stressed over his outfit all evening before they headed out to the venue. Eddie assured him that he looked great telling him he looked "like a sexy little gothed up jock" in his black polo, his tightest jeans and just the barest hint of eyeliner and mascara to make his eyes pop

"I know it must have been slim pickings back in butt fuck nowhere but Ed's got options now. Sure, the guy has a nice ass, but Ed could pull someone who's not gonna ruin our cred by dating a guy who looks like a narc" the bassist added on meanly.

Swallowing past the lump in his throat Steve turned to head back to the bar when Eddies voice stopped him in his tracks.

"People who disrespect my boyfriend dont get to talk about his ass" came Eddies sharp reply "Steve is more metal than all of you dumb fucks combined, and he's the inspiration behind all of the lyrics that are making us so big in the scene right now. If you cant fucking respect my boyfriend, you sure as hell dont deserve to get famous off the songs i wrote about him so im fucking out and im taking my songs with me."

"Ed you cant be fucking serious" the drummer started

"No, fuck you guys! You act all high and mighty but your just as fuckin shallow and small minded as the dumb hicks Steve and I left Indiana to get away from. Good luck finding someone to replace me and my songs before the fest next month" Eddie spat, his footsteps thundering against the concrete floor and around the corner into the hallway, coming up short as soon as he spotted Steve frozen in the hallway shocked at Eddies fierce defence of him.

"Oh sweetheart" Eddie crooned bringing a hand up to cup the side of Steves face his thumb gently swiping away the tears Steve hadnt even realized had begun to fall "I'm sorry you had to hear that baby. Lets go home" Eddie took his hand back from Steves face, wrapping it around his waist and tucking Steve firmly against his side ushering a still dazed Steve down the hall, out of the bar and into the cool night air

"Your didnt have to do that Eds" Steve said quietly, reluctantly pulling away from Eddie now that they were out in the open where anybody could see.

"Of course i did baby. You're the love of my life. You matter more to me than anything else in this world. More than my guitar and metal and dnd. And certainly more than some mouth breathers who wouldnt know what metal is if it got up on stage and took a bite out of a demon bat" Eddie replied with a grin and a wink swooping down to press a quick peck against Steves mouth as he stood in the middle of the sidewalk frozen in shock at Eddies declaration

"Im more important to you than music and dnd?" Steve asked in a quiet awed voice, his heart beating rapidly as if it was trying to physically escape his chest and burrow itself into the flesh of Eddies own ribcage.

"Sure are sweetheart, now why dont you get that sexy ass of yours moving so we can get home and I can show you just how much I mean it" Eddie replied, his voice lowering into a deep gravel that drove Steve crazy, hands reaching out to pull Steve forward a few steps urging him in the directon of the van parked furthur down the street.

Steve stumbled after Eddie, letting the other man lead him, his brain still not fully back online after Eddies bold decleration of love.

Steve didn't believe in any god, but he found himself thanking every god he could think of for bringing Eddie Munson into his life.

#im sleep deprived and idk where this came from but here you go #anyways they definitely went home and fucked real nasty #and then Eddie went on to make a new better band and they all became best friends with Steve and then they got a record deal #and eddies old band could suck it #okay thats enough internet for me its time for bedtimes #steddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve x eddie

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gigabyte-flare · 11 months

Text

There's No Escape (Part 7) [FINALE]

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Summary: The door is open, is it worth risking walking through to your freedom?

Pairing: yandere!Leon Kennedy x fem!reader (afab)

Word Count: 3.2k

If any of the warnings below trigger you, please kindly pass on this fic

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, actions depicted in this story are not condoned in real life; if you feel this way, please go touch grass. You are solely responsible for your own content consumption

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT OR I SWEAR TO GOD I WILL YEET YOU INTO THE GODDAMN SUN. Thank you!

Warnings (may not apply to all parts): Sex, gaslighting, swearing, stalking, acts of violence, blood, dubcon, kidnapping, pet names (baby, doll, angel, sweetheart, etc.), PTSD triggers, unprotected sex, forced breeding, daddy kink, manipulation, oral (m and f receiving), choking, overstimulation, knife play, gunplay, masterbation, drugging, tokophobia, Stockholm syndrome if you squint. Long story short, DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT. More warnings could be added in the future.

This part does make mention of miscarriages, which I know can be triggering for people. If this is something that triggers you, please read with caution or pass on this part.

Tags: @lipglossanon, @ghostkennedy, @explorevenus, @nexysworld, @ilookatlater, @shroomietrip, @dollrxst, @lomaeuwu, @aliet, @luniaxifics, @miwsolovely, @tosuckmyweenis, @admirxation, @susanmukami, @andieperrie18

[Author's Notes are at the end!]

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It has to be a trap, there’s no way he would have left the door unlatched like that, right?

You must have stared at the door for at least an hour, waiting for Leon to walk back through and praise you for being his ‘good girl,’ but he never did. You mull over your options.

If it is a trap, the worst that will happen is he puts you in the timeout room, you know he won’t rough you up too horribly because he wouldn’t risk you miscarrying, right? If it wasn’t a trap, if he actually did accidently leave that door unlatched, this was your perfect opportunity to finally escape, especially now that you have a good idea of where you are.

You decide it’s worth risking, so you start to get a plan in your head. You go into the bedroom closet and find an old looking backpack and start packing supplies: a few bottles of water, some granola bars, bug spray and band aids. You find your sneakers and pick out a loose t-shirt and a pair of your jeans and put them on; you need to be as comfortable as you possibly could, you have no clue how long you’ll be hiking for. You realize it wouldn’t be a bad idea to find something to defend yourself with, not just from Leon if he happens to catch you but from the wildlife: black bears, coyotes and god knows what else.

You approach the front door, opening it hesitantly and poking your head out. You look around, trying to see if you see any sign of Leon out here, waiting for you. To your surprise, he’s nowhere to be found. Feeling confident that he’s definitely not here, you step out and follow the trail to the shed, hoping that you could find something in there to defend yourself with. Upon getting to the shed, you found the door was locked. You step back, giving the door a few fierce kicks before it breaks off its hinges, slamming to the floor, dispelling a cloud of dust as it lands.

You step in and immediately start looking around, eventually stumbling upon a collection of guns that Leon has displayed on a wall. You grab a smaller handgun along with a box of 9mm ammunition. You put the ammo in your backpack and you tuck the gun into your waistband after making sure the safety was on. As you start to walk out, you spot a red canister. You walk over to it, picking it up and realizing it was full of gasoline. That gave you an idea.

Taking the canister with you, you go back into the house and stomp into the timeout room. You open the cap to the canister and start pouring the gas all over the bed until it's empty. You go into the kitchen and start opening drawers until you find a pack of matches which, thankfully, had one match left. You go back into the timeout room, staring down at the single match in the palm of your hand, tears forming in your eyes.

When you light the match, you can burn away this nightmare.

You light the match, holding it in front of you for a moment before tossing it onto the bed. The force of the fire bursting to life knocks you off your feet, but you quickly regain your composure and run out the front door. Once outside, you stop and turn around. It doesn’t take long for the fire to spread to other parts of the house. Taking a huge sigh of relief, you turn back around, looking up at the sky to find the sun. You discern which direction you think South is in and begin walking. You have a long journey ahead of you to freedom.

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

The meeting with President Graham lasted for far too long, in Leon’s opinion. He sat at the oval shaped table, chair leaned back and his arms crossed, looking unamused. It was him, a handful of other agents tasked with combating bioterrorism, the President and the newly appointed Secretary of Defense; he recalls that the dark haired man, an agent like him, sitting across from him is named Patrick.

Leon half listens as the Secretary of Defense goes on about the investigation of former Defense Secretary Wilson; the government was still trying to track him down but so far, all efforts to find the man were unsuccessful. Leon thought back to that incident a year ago and Jason’s words:

“I will show everyone what fear is. Then, then it will spread.”

Leon suddenly can see your face, the fear in your eyes as you look at him. Leon’s heart ached for you; as soon as this meeting was over, he was going straight home to you, to show you how much he loved you. After about another half hour, the President dismisses everyone. Leon couldn’t get out of his chair fast enough, however, Patrick soon stops him in the hallway.

“Hey! How’s it going at that house you got? How’s your girlfriend doing?” Patrick asks, his voice full of excitement; he is always starstruck by Leon.

“It’s good, she’s good,” Leon says flatly as he pulls out his phone to check it.

A series of notifications, from about two hours ago, made his heart sink: Motion Detected: Front Door. Motion Detected: Shed Door.

Fire Detected.

Leon’s eyes widen, he opens up an app on his phone to check the camera feeds, but he finds that all the cameras are offline except for the shed.

“I hate to cut this short, Pat, but there’s an emergency at my house. I have to go. Tell the President I’m sorry and give him my regards.”

Leon bolts out of the building, running to his Jeep and climbing inside. He peels out of the parking lot, his heart racing as he pushes his Jeep as hard and as fast as it could go. He gets back to the house in record time, only to find it engulfed in flames; it is a complete loss. He parks his Jeep, standing in front of his burning home and collapsing to his knees. He lets out the most agonizing cry out, tears threatening to pour down the sides of his face as he slams his fists into the ground. It’s not the house he’s upset about, no. That can be replaced. What destroyed him was that you were gone, again.

He takes deep, trembling breaths before he stands back up, he sees something out of the corner of his eye that gives him hope: footprints. They tracked about South-Southwest, deep into the forest. He walks back over to his Jeep, grabbing some supplies out of it and begins following the trail.

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

The night was the worst. You couldn’t sleep. Every snap of a tree branch startled you awake, thinking that Leon had finally found you. You didn’t dare start a fire or anything in fear it would draw his attention to you. You imagine he’s back home by now and found the house burned down and is now looking for you. Just as the sun starts to break through the trees, you immediately set out, trying to stay on a Southern track as best as you possibly could.

You keep your eyes on your feet, nimbly navigating the rocks and tree roots that jutted out of the ground. You thankfully were an experienced hiker; this came naturally to you. At the same time, you kept your ears open, being attentive to every sound you heard in the forest. You have no idea how much time has passed, but you see the sun hanging high in the sky, beating down on you. You stop under a large pine tree to take a break, leaning against it as you take off your backpack, taking a granola bar out to have a quick bite to eat.

That’s when you hear a sound that chills you straight to your core; your name being called. The voice echoes through the forest. There’s no mistaking it; it is Leon. You’re shocked that he managed to track you down that quickly. Are you really surprised though? He’s a government agent; he’s used to this kind of work. With each call, you can hear his voice get closer and closer, so you run. You sling your backpack back over your shoulders, running as fast as your legs can take you.

Suddenly, you stop in your tracks, sliding until your feet stop at the edge of a large ravine. You look down, wide eyed, at the raging river in the gully below. You look around, spotting a tree that lay across the ravine. It’s risky, but it’s your only way across. You approach the tree, stepping up onto it and carefully balancing yourself across. You try not to look down, but you happen to glance down, the drop making you dizzy. You almost lose your balance, but you quickly correct yourself and manage to get yourself across. You step off the fallen tree, letting out a heavy sigh when you hear your name called again, this time, from directly across the ravine.

You spin around and to your horror, you see Leon on the other side, approaching the fallen tree to cross to get to you. You pull out the pistol from your waistband, turning off the safety and pointing the gun at him.

“Don’t come any closer!”

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

“It won’t end,” Leon hears Jason’s words once again echo in his mind as he watches you pull the gun on him, your eyes wide in terror, “you are here. You are a witness to this fear. And now you will help it spread.”

Leon closes his eyes, taking a deep breath as he steps onto the fallen tree to cross the ravine.

So much for that…

“Sweetheart,” Leon opens his eyes and starts taking a few steps forward onto the fallen tree, “listen, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“I said… don’t come any closer!” you shout, tears welling up in your eyes as your finger hovers over the trigger.

“Baby, please!” Leon pleads, continuing to advance across the tree, “I promise I’m not mad at you. I’m not mad about the house, ok? I’ll buy us a new one. We can go back to Boston or D.C. or anywhere you want! Just you and me… and our baby…”

“I’m not going anywhere with you…”

“Babe,” a wicked smile starts to cross his lips as he continues to step forward, now in the middle of the makeshift bridge, “that’s where you’re wrong. You have my baby growing inside you, you’re tied to me forever…”

“SHUT UP!” You scream, pulling the trigger.

Leon watches as the bullet strikes just in front of his feet, splintering the wood from the old, rotten tree. He carefully continues to step forward. He watches you pull the trigger again, this time a sharp pain going through his right shoulder as the bullet finds its mark. He growls, reaching over with his left hand, gripping his shoulder; it quickly is covered in his own blood.

“You’re going to stop where you are, turn around and go back to where you came from. We are done.” you say, still pointing the gun at him.

“No we’re not,” Leon says, continuing to approach, “I am not losing you… I am not losing my baby.”

You fire at him again, the bullet once again going into the tree. Leon looks down, letting out a low chuckle as he looks back up at you, taking another step forward. However, with this next step, he hears the tree start to give under his weight. He attempts to leap forward, but the tree gives way before he’s able to and the last thing he remembers is your face staring down at him as he falls into the ravine.

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

You watch as the tree snaps and Leon falls into the ravine; into the white rapids of the river below. You stare down at the river, dumbfounded, your eyes searching the rapids for him, but you don’t see him. You fall to your knees and break down crying. You probably just killed Leon. The horror of having potentially murdered Leon gives way to a huge wave of relief, the nightmare was truly over. You must have stayed there for over an hour, staring into the river, waiting for Leon to surface.

But he never did.

The sun starts to set, so you decide to set back off, heading south once more. Once it gets dark, you find a safe spot to set up camp, feeling safe enough to set up a fire to keep yourself warm. You stare into the fire, your body trembling from your ordeal. You still can’t believe you probably killed Leon, you can’t believe that your nightmare is over. That you’re free.

Several days go by; while you were sometimes startled by random sounds in the forest, your trek through the forest was uneventful. It had downpoured at one point, completely soaking you, your clothes and your shoes. You had run out of granola bars and water and you quickly were becoming dehydrated. One night, you settle down to get some sleep; however, you could hear sounds that immediately caught your attention.

Laughter. The laughter of several people

You immediately get up, grabbing your backpack to head towards the sound. After a few minutes of walking, you see a campfire and break into a sprint, bolting into a small clearing where you find a small group of people gathered around the fire. You stand there for a moment, looking at all of them. You must have been a sorry sight, your clothes dirty and wet, your hair greasy, soaked, matted and stuck to your face. You feel tears well up in your eyes as a wave of relief wash over you.

You finally speak, your voice barely a whisper, “please… help me…”

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

The following days went by in a blur, the group, which you found out was a group of college students, helped you out of Baxter State Park and immediately contacted Fish and Game, who in turn contacted the police after you recounted what had happened to you. You were rushed to the hospital, where you were put on an IV for your dehydration. They were able to confirm that you were, in fact, pregnant, much to your dismay, but you weren’t going to worry about that right now.

Police had come in to interview you as you stayed in the hospital to recover from your ordeal, you told them as much as you possibly could about what happened to you, however, not once do you mention Leon’s name.

Why are you protecting him? you ask yourself, he’s dead, it doesn’t matter now.

But deep down you knew if you told them that an elite government agent had done this to you, they wouldn’t have believed you. One day, you overhear a couple cops talking outside of your hospital room, saying how they didn’t find a body in the ravine that you pointed out on a map of Baxter State Park. You try not to let fear overtake you; you could have been mistaken where the ravine was. You saw him fall, there was no way he survived that fall.

A couple days later, you were released from the hospital and were greeted by your parents, who were so happy to see you. They drive you back to D.C., and you pass out, sleeping the majority of the way there. The following days go by peacefully, as you acclimate back to a semi normal life. You then start to talk to your parents about what you’re going to do with the child growing inside you, it’s starting to sound like adoption was the best option. However, your own body made that decision for you.

You wake up one morning to severe abdominal pain; you cry out, grasping your lower stomach as you sit up and toss the blankets off you. What you see is horrifying. Your bed and your pajama bottoms are soaked in your blood; you scream a blood curdling scream. Your mom comes rushing in to see what’s going on and immediately calls 911 upon seeing the blood. You’re rushed to the hospital, where you’re told you have miscarried. As you lay in the hospital bed, you can’t help but feel relieved. The last thing you would ever want was to bring a child into this world who was conceived under such horrible circumstances.

The doctors suspect it was due to the sheer amount of stress you had been under and the dehydration. You don’t doubt it. You can’t help but think about how horrified Leon would have been if he were here. Thankfully for you, he wasn’t. Once you are released from the hospital, you start the agonizing journey to heal yourself and to find yourself again after what you had gone through.

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

Three years later, Northern California…

You and your new found girlfriends drive down Route 1 in one of the girls’ convertible. You all joke and laugh as the wind flows through your hair; you couldn’t be happier. Your ordeal seemed so far away, especially since you decided to move West, as far away from the East coast as you could possibly go. You needed a fresh start. Neither of these girls knew what you had gone through. Someday, you would tell them, but not today. Today was for happiness and friendship. The girls’ names are Jill and ironically, Rebecca. You had met them at a bar one night and they welcomed you into their friendship with open arms.

Jill is driving and she pulls over in a scenic stop area so that you all could watch the sunset over the Pacific ocean. You all get out of the car and lean up against it, facing the ocean. You all talk amongst yourselves, paying no mind to the motorcycle that had pulled into the scenic stop along with you. After a few minutes, Jill stops, looking over at the motorcycle that’s parked over on the other side of the scenic stop.

She elbows you, “look at that handsome stud.”

You lean forward and crane your neck to see who Jill is talking about and your heart sinks. It’s a tall, blonde haired man leaning against a black, Ducati motorcycle. He wore a black leather jacket with white, horizontal stripes on the sleeves, black jeans and black boots.

He looks just like Leon.

You take deep breaths to calm yourself down and close your eyes, hugging yourself.

It’s not Leon, Leon’s dead, you watched him die. You’re safe.

You open your eyes to see the man staring right at you, you can tell he has brilliant blue eyes, just like Leon’s. He winks at you before climbing onto his motorcycle and starting the engine. Much to your relief, he drives off, getting back on Route 1. You let out a sigh, leaning back up against the car to stare back out into the Pacific ocean.

“He was quite the looker, wasn’t he?” Jill asks, elbowing you again and smirking at you.

Your eyes remain fixed on the ocean, your face blank and emotionless.

“Yeah… I guess he was…”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

A/N: This series has been quite the journey for me. Not only did it kick start my return to Tumblr, it connected me with some truly wonderful people in the Leon Kennedy/Resident Evil fandom. I've made beautiful friends because of this series and I am so incredibly grateful. If this series was a movie, I always imagined The Summit by Spiritbox to be the "ending credits" song.

Thank you to everyone who has joined me on this journey, I appreciate every single one of you who have supported my work on here. Love you all!

#leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x reader #yandere!leon kennedy #yandere!leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x reader smut #leon kennedy smut #gigabyte writes #there's no escape

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