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bunnys-kisses · 16 days ago

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heirloom tomatoes

simon "ghost" riley

tags: smut/pwp, farmer!au, romance/intimacy, size difference/kink, proposal, fruits and vegetables, sweet & gentle sex, slice of life

a/n: i've been playing too much stardw valley... (there may be more to this)

wilby port was there you got sent to. you had been living in england for some time now, but you were used to the hustle and bustle of london. the constant grind of the day to day. and now you were grabbing your two suitcases off the bus to the small harbour town.

the little house near the edge of town was your new home after your great aunt passed away. you know you could've sold the house and the land around it. but, after years of working so hard in the city. the idea of an escape felt exciting. so you took it as a chance and ended up in the quiet town.

that was where you met simon riley.

the first spring in the town, you had to figure out how to kill time. you had tried a few hobbies here and there, but with the season in bloom. you wanted to try gardening. and while you could've planted strawberries or even some peppers. you decided on heirloom tomatoes, and with poor internet connection in the town and an excitement that left you with little patience.

you had to ask those in town.

johnny shrugged, "i'd say go to ghost." he placed both hands on the bar and leaned forward to look at you, "he lives closer to the river. i'd say be careful. he likes to bite." the snapped his jaws playfully before he laughed.

"ah, ghost." price said when you asked him, "yeah he'd be your best bed." as he had the cleaver in one hand, "quite man, but if you're direct in your questions he'll give you everythin' ya need." then chopped at the meat on the table.

kyle replied when you asked him while he was doing research at the beach, "i'd say ghost, honestly. he has some kind of green thumb that i couldn't imagine. you know it's possible to kill a cactus." he laughed as he got more of the sand into the test tube, "your best bet would be him. ghost."

it left you with one question, who the hell was ghost?

it took a little while before you found ghost's house. you don't know why you expected to find a haunted house at the end of your adventures. something to match this so-called ghost. but instead you found a small farm house, crowded with various plants.

while it was in abundance, every plant looked healthy and well maintained. this looked like someone who would know how to grow heirloom tomatoes. you knocked on the door and when the door opened, you took a step back from the man who answered it.

he stood over six feet, he was broad all over. he was in a red long sleeve shirt with the sleeves rolled up. as a result you could see his arm full of tattoos. it made you swallow as you tried to maintain eye contact with him.

"can i help you?" he asked as he eyed you up and down.

you swallowed, "um hi! i was wondering if ghost was here?" it sounded weird in your head but you straightened up a little, "i was told by others that he could help me grow tomatoes."

the man looked intimidating. he was curly blond hair, dark brown eyes, his nose was crooked probably from multiple breakages. he had tattoos and scars that lined his body. his voice was a rumble as he replied, "name's simon. no need to call me ghost." then held out his hand. you smiled and shook it.

what you thought would have been an easy few tips turned into a pretty hard-core lesson about not just heirloom tomatoes, but all tomatoes. you tried to take notes on your phone, but ended up having to go old school and writing everything down by hand with a notebook and pen that simon gave you.

"no one usually listens this long." he chuckled a little as he took a sip of his water, "likes of johnny get bored after about five minutes." he crossed his strong arms and you felt something quiver inside of you.

you replied, "well, i want to do it right. it's not fair to the plant that i kill it." you tapped the pen against the paper, "so what was that about cherry tomatoes." and you watched him smile a little.

while you didn't have a huge piece of land like simon. but you had enough to build your little garden. it felt weird rewarding as the seasons changed, it grew warmer. and simon came to visit you more often to check on the plants.

johnny made a joke that simon was your shadow now, even referring to him as "the shadow" and you tried not to think too hard about it. simon was just a good friend.

when simon caught wind of this, he had to be a little more forward. over the time you had spent together, he had grown fond for you. so one sunny summer's day, he picked up flowers from the local shop and went to your house.

when you answered the door, you looked at him. and he looked at you. you were in a purple checkered apron with flour on your face.

"what are you doing?" he asked as he looked past you into the house. he could see the mess in the kitchen and the smell of cookies wafting in the air.

you looked at the bouquet of tulips in his hand, "what are you doing?"

"i was bringing you flowers.. to ask you out." "i was making cookies... to also ask you out."

you both looked at one another in the eye before he handed you the flowers and you looked at them then him again. you felt a leap in your chest and felt a heat in your cheek.

in unison you both said, "will you go out with me?"and then both of you smiled at one another. simon gave you that quiet smile he had and you broke into a wide grin. next thing he knew, you were pulling him into the house just as the timer went off for the cookies.

they were your attempt at shortbread cookies in the shape of hearts. but simon thought they were delicious. especially when you sat in his lap and chased every bite of a cookie with a kiss. simon soon learned that he loved your kisses.

"how does it taste?" you asked as you leaned in a little closer.

"perfect." he placed his large, rough hand on your soft cheek and leaned in to kiss you on the lips. you melted a little at the feeling. you felt comfortable with simon.

he was a protective force in your life. he didn't make you feel small, in a bad way. there was an obvious size difference so you were physically smaller. but simon would never make you feel weak. after that, simon was over every day.

he brought vegetables and fruits from the farm. sometimes he'd bring wild flowers from around the property and on weekends eggs for breakfast.

"simon! simon!" during the middle of a warm summer, you called your boyfriend frantically. he instantly was on high alert from your tone. when he asked you what was wrong, you replied, "the tomatoes! they're here!" and as soon as simon hung up the phone, he instantly was getting his boots on to head to your home.

you waved him over when he got there and he saw them. he saw the heirloom tomatoes, his eyes went wide at the sight of them before he pulled you in close to him. you two looked at each other before you leaned up towards simon and kissed him deeply on the lips. you held onto the front of his black t-shirt .

you pressed your face against his chest soon after and said, "thank you so much, simon." you felt heat radiate through you, a deep love for your partner. simon held you close and peppered your face with more kisses.

the kisses got a little deeper and simon held you closer. you smiled against his lips before you pulled away. he looked as red as the tomatoes you were trying to grow.

he swallowed, "as much as i would love to make love to ya out on the grass. i don't think ya want grain stains on everything."he chuckled as he held you face once more in his large hand. he watched you shift a little before you got out of his grasp and took hold of his hand.

once again you were leading him into your home. and simon barely had time to kick off his work boots before you were kissing him passionately on the lips. his arms wrapped around you as he pulled you up against him. your hands in his t-shirt as you both tried to navigate through the small house towards your bedroom.

eventually you pushed you much larger lover onto the bed and he hastily took off his shirt. you had seen him nude before. both in intimate photos he sent, and also when he'd walk out of the shower with just a towel around his waist. but to see his heavy cock one he got his bottoms off and exposed his heavy cock to you.

you licked your lips at the sight of it and got out of your clothes. before you could get onto the bed, he placed a hand on your lower back and pressed his scratchy cheek against your middle. he sighed, visibly relaxing.

"so soft." he said, as he groped your ass. you giggled and combed your fingers through his curled hair. eventually you ended up on top of him in bed. you helped remove his clothes as well, his socks and t-shirt. and you ended up in bed with you. his broad hands mapped your body perfectly, he wanted to feel every inch of warm soft skin.

you looked beautiful when you eventually ended up under him. your head in the pillows and simon was between your legs. his hefty cock was at full attention as he gazed lovingly at your figure. how could a woman so beautiful want to date a man like him? but,he realized a long time ago not to question you. if you wanted to date him, then he'd happily accept your love.

but only if he could give it back in a tenfold. he rubbed his achy cock up against you. it was painfully stiff and he loved the sight of it up against your smaller slit. he was so big compared to you, a fact that turned both of you.

simon had to admit as he sank into you, he liked feeling like a protector. to know that you were safe because of him. that nothing would hurt his darling girl. it made him feel a tug of pride as he slotted himself into your cunt.

the feeling made him shudder for a moment and the stretch made you arched your back a little. he watched your nipples grow hard which only made his cock twitch with lustful want.

he placed his hand over your chest for a moment, but didn't apply much pressure against you. his palm over your heart as he said, "your mine and i'm yours. you, me and all the tomatoes." he smiled down at you before he leaned in further to kiss you square on the lips. his words made you core feel gooey, you felt his love for you in your blood, raising the temperature of it.

he kissed you as he put both hands on your hips and moved against you. he was cautious about hurting you, causing you pain as his cock nudged against you. you moaned against the heated kiss, you shifted a little and he pressed further into you.

when the kiss broke, you looked at one another while the air in the room grew warmer. you felt the heat between your legs as he moved. his gaze was hungry as he moved against you. he admired every inch of skin he could. he couldn't deny it, he never could, but you were the most beautiful woman he ever had the pleasure to love. he wasn't known for being a lady's man, but to know that he had you. he didn't need anyone else.

when perfection was in front of him, he'd never waste you. the pace continued as did the pleasure. the heat between you two as he moved against you. you tightened your legs around him and reached out for him. you were soon chest to chest with simon making sure that he wasn't crushing you.

the last thing he wanted was to hurt you. it would be like crushing a flower, it would break simon. but you soothed any anxiety as you held his face and kissed him passionately with each of his movements.

the pleasure bloomed through both of you as the two of you continued to move against one another. you started to pick up his pace and the kisses became deeper. it felt amazing, you felt like you were on cloud nine thanks to his pleasure. there was something undeniable about him. there was something heated and needy about his movements as you pushed up against him.

"glad i fit." he remarked, "was worried for a moment that she wasn't gonna fit me." he patted your middle for a moment, the action made you squirm and clench around him a little tighter his heart hammered in his chest the more he moved against you. there was a slice of heaven under him and he wanted to make sure his girl felt good.

you giggled a little, "you're not that big. nothing i can't take. i'm strong enough." and let out a sharp moan when simon pressed into you further which made you feel snaps of pleasure in your head.

he chuckled and held onto you a little tighter, he pushed himself further into you and let himself enjoy the sweet, tender feeling of his beloved. he loved you, it was clear from the moment he asked you out. his affection for you only grew with time, he needed you daily. he was constantly around because you made him feel needed and wanted. you were perfect for him.

he kissed you once more and continued his hold on you. he rocked against you sweet cunt and felt the wraps of pleasure in his core. he loved the feeling, being so close to climax with his beloved under him.

you deepened the kiss and threw your arms around his shoulders. he thrusted up into you, his pace steady but not too rough. once again, the idea of hurting you, even by accident, pained him. he never wanted that, he only wanted your sweet moans in his ear and your smiles to brighten up his day.

you two moved against one another, the pleasure continued to course through you. the two of you made love on your creaky bed, but enjoyed each other's gentle company. you tensed up a little bit as you felt the heat of climax was over you. you moaned into the kiss, and quietly said 'i love you' under your breath as orgasm took hold. the thump in your chest made you feel hot all over.

"i love you too.' he said softly as he continued to move against you. you clenched onto him and he loved the feeling of your nails against his skin. he felt extremely hot as he bucked his hips against you. the hammering in his chest only fueled his want for you.

he soon climaxed and felt the shudder through his body. the blossom of heat in his core as he finished inside of you. with a few more heavy thrusts, he slowed his pace to a stop to catch his breath. however that was made hard because you pulled him in for another searing kiss.

you both got under the covers and kissed deeply with one another. you felt connected to him, so close to him. so loving for him. you moaned into the kiss and simon cuddled up against you.

you said i love you to each other many times as you laid comfortable in each other's arms. the love flowed between you two. simon knew and you knew that you'd be together for a long time.

simon looked at you as you laid there comfrotably. you looked like someone special to him. you looked like the future mrs. simon riley.

it was a hot summer day two years later, you had come by to visit simon and found him working away at the blueberry plants on the farm. eventually you got him back inside his home. you moved around the kitchen like it was your own home.

you were giving simon a stern talking to while you got him a glass of water to help cool down. simon just watched you from his spot at the kitchen table.

"and you know what happens if you don't drink water! i don't need you passing out and crows peckin you-", when you turned around you noticed a small box on the table. the glass of watr almost fell out of your hand as he opened it. shock marked your expression and he chuckled.

he took a hold of the velvet box and opened it with a smile on his lips. your scarred, famer's tan having boyfriend with a love for heirloom tomatoes, was proposing to you.

"will you-"

"yes!" you squeaked before you quickly put the glass down and went over to him. he grabbed you and seated you on his lap. you held his face for a moment to look into his brown eyes before you laid a kiss on his lips.

he only pulled away to slip the ring on your finger (it was a big too big, but that could be fixed). you looked at the emerald in the ring and felt tears in your eyes. you kissed him once more.

you had everything, a home, a husband and heirloom tomatoes. <3

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porkcutletbowl44 · 2 months ago

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Movie night gone... Right?

Simon Riley x F!Reader

Tags!: NSFW. MDNI🔞. Size kink, mask kink, rough sex, primal play, bondage, dom Simon, unprotected p in v sex, spanking, mention of anal, after care, fluff.

WAKE UP YALL ITS HALLOWEEN!!!!!(i did not proof read apologies)

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Movie nights were a special occasion, just you and Simon, snacks, cuddling, and whatever new movie was out. Or in this case, it's slasher night, something you thought Simon would appreciate greatly, or even explain a bunch of things.

Everything is perfect tonight, your fuzzy socks, fresh popcorn, the man you love, except...

"Thas not 'ow this works. Not accurate." Simon criticized for the millionth time. "Fuckin' hell this is so boring."

"I feel like you'd be able to make a pretty sick scary movie," you commented lightheartedly, adjusting your bowl of popcorn on your legs.

"Y'think so?" He asked with a raised eyebrow, he leaned back in his spot, turning his body to you.

He'd been in the middle of a rant about the things that didn't add up with slashers or murder mysteries, 'not enough blood, too much blood, that knife wouldn't do that-' quite frankly it was getting annoying.

"I think I 'ave too specific horror movie tastes to actually make somethin'." He explained, crossing his arms before putting some popcorn between his lips.

The scary movie he could make, would be horrifying.

"Well yeah, you know about this kinda stuff...it would be realistic, in a scary way." You nodded.

"Too realistic." He muttered, a sarcastic smile on his lips. "I feel like people would say it's too much, too gory." Simon explained.

The girl in the film was trying to crawl away, dragging herself along the carpet. Michael was slowly following after her, playing with his knife in his hand. Simon shifted forward, groaning to himself in boredom.

"Too much gore? Pfft, only pussies say that." you scoffed, playing off the chills of imagining real gore that he's been through.

"Fair." He grunted, he leaned back, folding one leg over the opposite knee restlessly.

He threw another handful of popcorn into his mouth, eyes glued on the screen. The girl in the film was now at the front door. Michael was just behind her, waiting for her fingers to just slide away from the handle of the front door.

"He could jus' snatch 'er, she's right there." Simon pointed out.

Please shut up, watch the fucking movie...

"He's playin' with his food, an' then he'll kill 'er."

You glanced over at him with wide eyes, you love him to death, but sometimes (everyday) you have this 'what the fuck' moment.

"I swear you'd be a serial killer in a different world." You mumbled under your breath.

"Or even this one." He whispered back, he leaned back restlessly, folding his arms across his chest.

What the fuck, Simon.

"He could've grabbed 'er by now. It's annoyin'." Simon sighed heavily, glancing at the corner of his eyes at you.

You laughed now, laying your head on his shoulder.

"Y'know what movies freak me out?" You quip.

"What?" He mumbled, his brain rotting from the slasher movie in front of his eyes, that he claims to be so boring.

The girl was trying desperately to pry her fingers from the handle of the front door. She'd almost did it before Michael snatched her wrist, his other hand wrapping around her mouth and squeezing. In the film, she was shaking her head frantically, her screams muffled by Michael's hand.

"Found footage movies." You answered with a knowing smile.

"'Cause they are more realistic, yeah?" He shifted his position so that his arm would go around you, he pulled you to him and then he turned his head to look at you.

"Yeah, and just creepy in general." You added, shifting your folded knees on his lap.

"I could make a found footage movie." He thought over, eyes softening down at you.

He squeezed your torso into his side, pulling your legs over his lap for you to curl up against his form comfortably. Another thing about movie nights, an excuse to be up his ass. He's so warm and comfortable, sure your arms couldn't go all the way around his bulky waist but holding is holding.

"You're my muse." He mumbled against your crown.

You smiled fondly, happily nuzzling into soft and firm structures of his beefy body.

"Think found footage would be a little harder for you to make, you'd have to have footage on an old ass camera."

"True." He mumbled, brushing his hands through your hair.

The girl in the film is crying while Michael drags her away. Simon rolls his eyes,

"I've seen the real thing." He muttered exasperatedly.

"Have you? Then is this realistic?" You asked curiously, resting your chin on his shoulder.

"Too realistic."

Even the sound of the girl trying to scream sounded accurate to you. The only thing they got wrong was the amount of blood.

"She'd be dead by now." He commented in complete monotone.

"Well it is for the movie, but I think I get what you're saying. Why mess around to add more fear? Doesn't make sense." You agreed to get him to shut the fuck up.

"’Cause they need to extend it, make it longer."

The girl was screaming and crying, trying to pull away from Michael's grip, dragging her up the stairs and out of view.

"Are there any accurate gore movies?" You asked him, looking back at the movie.

That would be scary, being dragged around by a giant ass serial killer.

"Probably not." He mumbled.

His body heat was seeping through his clothing, making you feel warm and fuzzy on his lap. He was always so warm, it wasn't fair.

"Most o' the time they exaggerate the amount o' blood." He explained, glancing at the screen here and there.

"A shame," You sighed out, resting your head back on his shoulder, pulling your fluffy blanket up to your chin.

The girl was still crying, her screams were muffled as her legs dragged against the carpet stairs. Michael was now tying rope onto the girl's leg before dragging her into a bedroom.

"'M bored." Simon mumbled, he stretched his legs out, one of his massive paws on your thigh.

"Wanna watch a different movie?" You asked, yawning.

"Sure." He mumbled, his hands on your thighs shifted upwards.

He was now petting your thighs, a smirk pulling the corner of his lips. The girl in the film was trying to escape, to wiggle away from Michael, she had gotten free from his grip.

"Finally." Simon mumbled, his eyes on the screen.

The girl was in the woods, crying as she stumbled and sprinted, screaming bloody murder.

"There's no way that's the fastest she could run, if that were me I'd be gone." you pointed with frustration.

"Same." He murmured, his eyes watching the film with minor interest.

The girl ran into the darkness of the forest, tipping and getting caught on spider webs with loud flailing.

Simon groans in annoyance, "She's not goin' in a straight line, she's gonna die."

The camera pans to her face, and when she turns around Michael is right there with loud music. You jumped with a choked gasp,

"Jesus—that got me. Wasn't expecting that." You huffed.

"She's dead." Simon stated, giving your thighs a pat.

The girl collapsed on the ground, her screams were muffled by the music and other sounds around her as her killer got ready to seal her fate.

"Shouldn't 'ave gone towards the woods." Simon mumbled smugly with a chuckle.

"What are you talking about? The woods is the best place to run away. Too vast," You stated back with confusion.

"Are you kiddin'?" Simon scoffed, "The woods is a killer's dream spot." He explained.

The girl in the film was crying loudly, crawling away, desperately trying to escape Michael's grip.

"You're isolated, it's night time- the darkness is his friend. The woods make a lot o' sounds, you 'ave t'be super alert." Simon pointed out, he shifted his eyes back to the screen.

"Yeah, but you could run anywhere. You'd never be lucky enough to make a guess at where they are," You countered.

He let out a small laugh, "But only the killer needs t'be lucky one." Simon pointed out. "He can track your footsteps jus' from the sound o' leaves." He added.

The girl in the film was dragging herself away from Michael, he was following her slowly, deadly.

"He has an edge, it's his terrain. An' he knows it." Simon explained.

You snorted, "well, I'm not as dumb as her, I'd be just fine."

Simon hummed, squeezing the inside of your thigh.

"Yeah? Are you willing to test that theory?" He asked.

The girl continued crying loudly, scary music playing as Michaels knife comes into view.

"She thought the exact same thing. That she could run away. But look'it 'er now. On the ground, in the hands o' 'er killer." He smirked.

You sat up a little straighter, a small snicker coming from you. It was always the dumb girls in scary movies that never made it.

"Look at him; he walks everywhere. I could definitely out run Michael Myers."

"You're underestimating him." Simon muttered, he turned his attention away from the film to you. "He's tall, he's strong."

The actor playing Michael was stalking his prey, emotionless white mask with empty eyes. The girl in the film was still trying to crawl away, she was on one knee, pushing herself off of the ground with her hands as she tried to get away.

Imagine back shots in the woods, alone, with an insanely hot guy chasing you. Tall and strong. You eyed him, he was taller than Michael Myers, more muscle on Simon...

"So? I'm quick. I'd never get caught." You replied, basking in the warmth of his body.

"Quicker than a six foot, full grown man? Come on." He scoffed, he looked down into your eyes. "I could catch you easily." He rumbles lowly, vibrating against your shoulder.

The actor portraying Michael was walking faster, god they were dragging this shit out.

"You'd be caught in seconds." He stated.

You shivered. He knew how this worked, that was his job. Tracking people down and catching them.

"You couldn't." You argued back anyway, getting a little more serious

"I could." He insisted. "Y'wouldn't get the chance to run. If y'try, you'll just exhaust yourself, an' the minute you're exhausted. I'll catch ya." He stated easily.

"Uh-huh. Yeah, sure." You rolled your eyes, your hand going on top of his that was wrapped around your shoulders.

He smirked, "Wanna test it?" He suggested. "I'll catch you under one minute." He promised.

The camera zoomed in to Michael stalking the girl through the forest, he was approaching her. God damn just catch the annoying chick already and move on.

"The thing with the woods, the noises are unpredictable. You'd need t'listen out for your predator." Simon explained lowly, his hot breath wafting down your neck.

You shivered again.

"You really wanna lose a bet, huh?" You asked suspiciously.

"'M not the one who's gonna lose." He grunted boredly. "Come on. Lemme track you, show me 'ow fast you can run. A million bucks if I win." He suggested, his massive paw moving your hip, his fingers curling around your waist.

"Do I look like I have a million bucks?" You scoffed, glaring softly at him. "I'll agree if you have a better idea of a reward,"

"Name your reward." He shrugged, "I'll catch you in less then a minute." He repeated lower, a challenge.

"Name anythin', I'll get it." The grit in his voice was heavier.

Heat coiled in your belly, your mouth watering and going dry at the same time. You knew what he was thinking. He knew what you were thinking. He knew you knew what he was thinking.

"You catch me, you fuck me." You stated.

"Deal."

You let out a yelp being yanked up from the couch, socks slipping on the floor while dragged to the back door.

It happened so fast.

You were now outside, the night was alive, the moon was full, and the woods were waiting. Simon's hands rested on your shoulders, he looked down at you with that cocky smirk on his lips.

"You ready? Get a 'ead start cause y'ain't gettin' far, lovie." He grunted.

You shivered under his lazy gaze of his eyes, you looked at the forest, a coating of fog on the ground and a bright moon casting shadows.

It was a little eerie... Could you chicken out and have him not tease you for it every chance he got? Unlikely.

"What's...my head start?" You asked, containing the shake in your voice.

His breath was on your neck, the night was cold but his warmth was on your body. Soon, you'll be warm on the inside. He could not be serious; what if you tripped and fell? Sprained your ankle? Broke your ankle? What if you run into a spider web and swallow the spider? What if you get lost?

"Five seconds."

"FIVE?!" You gasped in disbelief of the unfairness, but prey instinct immediately kicked in and you bolted.

You heaved your chest, barely feeling your legs pumping on the ground, littered with leaves and sticks getting stuck to your socks. Great, they were your favorites and now they feel crunchy on your feet. You couldn't even hear him, you had no idea if he was behind you and you were not about to confirm that.

You weave in and out trees and bushes, breathing hard, your socks almost sliding off your feet with sharp turns. You have no plan, no direction, and absolutely no idea what the fuck you are doing.

Your breath was getting heavier, you could feel the cold night air on your skin. The wind whistled through the branches of the trees stood tall and thin. It was really fucking eerie. You did a sharp turn, unsure where he was or what he was doing and jumped over a thick trench with a small stream of water. Oh, lovely! Your socks are wet and muddy now too!

You hear a sound behind you, you don't know what the fuck it is, but you squeak pathetically and closed your eyes while running. Stupid, but you're incredibly scared and horny now. What will he do when he catches you? Will he do that thing he does with the tip or will he skip that and just fuck you silly?

You stopped in a small clearing, panting heavily and looking around to see Simon was nowhere in sight. You took ragged breaths, unable to hear over the sound of your own breathing, the pulse in your ears and your burning lungs, and why not add the aching sides while you're at it?

You jolted at the sound of a cackling coyote, ankles shaking ready to bolt... But where?

His steps weren't heard, he was following the sounds of your breath. The moonlight made it easy for him to track you with his eyes, his footsteps were silent.

He was following you, his eyes were locked onto the clearing. In the moment of silence, he was watching your back, waiting for you to bolt.

You saw a overgrown path and set off in that direction in a lighter sprint. You only had so much of an advantage, you had no clue where the fuck he was. He was surely keeping track of time, the smart fucker, you had a head start and after a minute if you hadn't been caught then you'd win.

The adrenaline pumps into your veins, the fear in your body making me ignore your aching legs but not your wet pussy.

It was scary that Simon did this for his military work, and it terrified you and excited you at the same time, what he would do when he caught you. Arousal was a steady pulse in your pussy, making you almost want to let him win but your pride smacked that away with aggression. Make him work for it.

At moments, you swore you could hear him breathing behind branches, and behind the other obstacles he was using to his advantage. Analyzing the way you were moving, your way of avoiding things, and he was trying to learn from it.

This was his forte, his expertise, you've had a head start but he still had time. You were getting tired, sweat running down your neck as you looked around to a different direction. You were getting slower, the fear was starting to cloud your mind.

The more time went on, the more scared you got.

Maybe he did lose you. Maybe you are lost, maybe he got hurt-

The sound of the wind and the trees moving around were getting louder, the forest was closing in on you. You cursed silently, stopping in your pace at the sound of a brank cracking loudly.

Fear froze you as you looked around the empty forest. Your breathing became louder as the silence took over. Fear hit and you were unable to move, the cold was starting to settle in as the night grew dimmer with the clouds covering the moon.

Suddenly a dull sound broke the eerie silence, making your eyes dart everywhere. You had almost no cover around you as you were in a clearing, in the open. Your eyes were searching for Simon, or something else, but all you could hear was the wind. No bugs. No animals. Nothing.

Okay, not cool, this is getting really scary.

Your heart rattled your chest, but if Simon wasn't in sight then you were safe.

You let out a soft breathy laugh, you actually did it—

"There y'are."

His voice was behind you, his breath on your neck, burly arms snatching you up. You shrieked in surprise, kicking your legs and flexing your arms up against his. No use.

"Y'thought you'd get away?" He grunted, chuckling.

"That's not fair!" You squealed, kicking your legs desperately making one sock go flying.

"Who said anythin' 'bout fair?" He teased, letting out a gruff, dark chuckle into your neck. "The deal still stands. An' guess what?" He whispered.

You breathed heavily, looking up at him wide eyed and exhausted. A rush of excitement flooded your mind, but at the same time,

"R-Right here?" You questioned, being pressed against a tree.

"Right 'ere." He growled.

His grip was strong and firm trapping your body between him and the tree. He looks down at you with dark, hungry eyes, barely breathing heavy behind the balaclava. You whined softly, clenching your legs together under his predatory gaze.

"Spread them." He demanded harshly, never faltering once as he held you still. "I told you I'd catch you. An' I've kept my word so far." He snickered.

He moved his hands to your thighs, spreading your legs apart. You whimpered, soaked through the thin shorts, cheeks flushing heavily at his discovery.

"Thas it." He murmured, his breath hot as it brushed against your neck.

His hands moved to your thighs, his fingers curling and squeezing them, spreading them apart around his broad hips. His hand ran down against the slick wetness on your thigh, making him growl softly, noticing how excited you were and absolutely nothing happened. He shoves your shorts and panties to the side,

"Do you 'ave any idea 'ow wet y'are right now?" He breathed, eyebrows pinching with a groan.

The pressure of his hands was light as he used them to hold you in place, his grip was stronger around your waist.

"You've only been chased for a minute." He mocked.

You shook your head, at both of his sentences because it did not feel like a minute. You squirmed in his hold, not appreciating the way his fingers parted your pussy lips in the cold air.

"Don't move." He growls.

He slowly slid his hands up your thighs, your body was twitching as it reacted to him touching you. He pulls his balaclava up, fiercely kissing you. His tongue invades your mouth, barely giving you time to react as he nips down on your lip. Rinse and Repeat. He squeezes your jaw, lips devouring, spit smearing, groaning and moaning into each other. He gropes your breast, His tongue pushing your back to get every taste he could get.

"Look at you. You're an obedient little thing." he murmured in satisfaction.

Your hands gripped his shoulders, just hearing him breathe heavily down at you made you whine in want and need. He tuts, meeting your gaze through your lashes,

"Such a pretty thing." He grunted, giving your ass cheek a sharp smack.

You squeal, his body pressing into you, the tree bark digging into your back.

"Now don't move." He whispered roughly.

His fingers reached inwards, his thumb teasing your drooling slit to feel the way it flutters and tries to suck him in, coaxing something bigger, something you want more than fingers. He groans raggedly, bringing his thumb up to lick it clean.

He yanks you forward, shoved to your knees and chest to the ground. His calloused hands pinned your wrists above your head, shorts and panties aggressively shoved down exposed to the cold night air. Pine needles dug into your knees and forearms uncomfortably. You whimpered, feeling his gaze to your bare cunt in a rather exposed way.

"Good girl." His voice was rough, it carried a smirk on it as he leered at you.

He spreads your cheeks with a harsh knead, pushing them up to arch your back. He had a very good view of your pussy and ass, and the cocky bastard was taking he sweet ass time.

You keened, shoving your hips back into him, "Simon," You pleaded, overwhelmingly turned on from the chase and embarrassed to what he was doing.

"I know what y'want." He grunted.

His hand on your ass squeezed as his grip on your wrists pushed them further above your head, stretching your back out.

"But you 'ave to be obedient an' patient." He warns, his breathing rapid and hot at how great this was about to be.

Your back arched more, you whine long and deep from your chest. You didn't even care about the bet, you just wanted him, you wanted him to claim you again like every other night, but with this situation it was different, new.

You grinded back on him mindlessly, barely scraping against his clothed cock.

"Such a needy thing." He hisses with a small scoff.

He began to spread your legs wide, his fingers digging into your thighs as he gripped them tightly to get all the space he needs. The sound of his zipper screaming rips through the night, his jeans hitting the ground was loud, belt buckle cold against the back of your thigh. His blunt cock head rubs against the length of your cunt, gathering all your slick on his girth.

He smirked, his head tilted to the side as he watched your pretty hole flutter, you were trying your hardest not to moan. The cold belt leaves your skin, looping around your wrists for Simon to hold into the ground.

"There's no one 'ere to hear you. No need t'be quiet." He coos, almost meanly.

You feel the ridge of his frenulum rut between your ass cheeks, catching on your rim, drooling pre cum dripping on your skin, you moan out loud in a sound you've never heard yourself make. He thrusts a few more times, balls teasing your throbbing clit.

"Yeah? like that? Could take this hole too, you'd like that? Wouldn't you, lovie?" He pants, bringing a hand down on your ass.

He chuckles at your broken mewl, dragging his cock away to your pussy, "Wanna feel 'er first. I'll take your tight little ass later, yeah?"

He notches his tip to your slit, thrusting shallowly to work himself until he can send it home. The stretch is always the tedious part with him, your walls are pulled taut to their limit. You let out breathy moans, your ass bouncing on his hips with the rocking movement sending the pine needles deeper into your skin. You were sure there would be indentions but you could give a fuck less with good dicking.

"Good girl." He growled, enjoying seeing you exposed to him, still in shock from the chase.

Your ass swayed back and forth, rippling, jolting, it was one of his favorite feelings, it was hot. His breath was hot as was yours, his hand gripping your wrists so hard that it was almost painful.

"Yes..Yes...mh...Yes," You chanted breathily, meeting his movement greedily.

"Such a good fuckin' girl." He groaned.

He leans forward, nipping and sucking at your neck with needy growls as he buries his cock to the hilt in your cunt.

You didn't know why you even agreed to try this bet, you never would have lasted long anyway. A trained predator against you? You must of been sloppy, too easy for him, an easy prize for his taking. You knew Simon wouldn't ever hurt you, but how eerie he looked with his skull mask, stalking you through the dark woods? That was so fucking hot.

"Y'think you'd escape me?" He whispered harshly into your ear, his thumb rubbing his tacky pre over your rim, breaching through ever so slightly.

The feel of his breath on your skin made your body shudder, your eyes roll, drool leak from your lips. He laughed softly as his hands tightened around your wrists, the pressure was hurting you almost but you didn't say anything, you couldn't, his cock battering your cervix, balls slapping your clit roughly.

You whimpered in response, tears of pleasure streaming down your cheeks unable to form any coherent words.

"Aww." he scoffs, rutting into you harder. "Such a needy girl." He murmured as he squeezed your wrists together brutally, growling and groaning into your neck, skin between his teeth.

"O-Oh god-" You gasp, clenching tight around him.

The semi-stimulation to your clit, the soft burn of the stretch, the rough hair at the base of his cock against your skin, it's fucking heaven. He fucks into you roughly, an almost growly throaty groan ripping from him as his hips snap one last time against you, rapidly rubbing his fingers to your swollen bud side to side-

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" You moan, your spine bowing as he grinds into you with a wet groan, velvet walls convulsing around his spurting cock.

He stays pressed into you, breathing against your shoulder. You feel light. Weightless. Like you could float away into the sky. Your arms tingle, your knees are numb, your thighs burn, your ass stings.

He pulls out, goosebumps surging across your skin at the loss of heat. He uses his thumb to spread your fluttering hole open in the moonlight, purring as his cum pearls into sight, dropping to the ground in thick lumps. He scoops some up, gently prodding it back inside with a whimper from you.

Simon had carried you after the "date night activities as a result of movie night", he sat you down in the showers and washed you. He then helped you get into a nice hot bath, the heat helped soothe your soreness, the nice bubbly water washing your body clean of dirt and dead leaves paired with his extra sweet soft kisses.

He got you all nice and clean, changed your clothes and he was even kind enough to make you hot chocolate with some extra snacks. He cuddled you up on a couch, the warm blanket was wrapped around you as he held you, head on his chest.

You requested a calmer movie for movie night, agreeing on Avengers for the time being.

"I'd hate being the war criminal you have to chase," You murmured against the rim of your mug, eyes trained in the movie.

It was scary, being chased by a dangerous man even if he had zero intentions of harming you specifically. At least you got a good dicking down, from the man you love.

"Hm." He murmured, his body slightly rocking you as you watched the movie.

He smirked at your statement, his hand was playing with your hair as you focused on the movie.

"It's not scary at all." He murmured softly.

"That's not fair to me though..." You pouted. "I'm not experienced in that stuff."

"The chase was t'see 'ow fast I could catch you." He kept his eyes on the television when he spoke to you.

His grip was tight as he didn't want you to move from him as he pulled you under his arm again.

"An' it makes it much more fun." He smiled. "No excuses." His voice was a tease, a play on words but deep down it was still teasing at you.

"it was still unfair." You grumbled back, turning your head.

He purrs, glancing at the marks on your neck before letting out a small huff. "They look adorable on ya." He whispered, a smirk on his face as he saw you flaunt them.

He turned his eyes ahead, he wasn't looking at you, instead he was looking at the television. You pouted again, your back and knees still sore. You slumped your head on his chest. He kept his eyes on the television, hand playing with your hair, his gaze glued to the screen as he held.

"I can't imagine what those guys think when you track them.." You mumbled softly, throat going dry remembering Simon's military work

"Some o' them shit themselves. The others think that they are bein' tracked by the boogeyman." Simon snorted as he spoke, half watching television and half focusing on you.

"I wonder what they would do if they found out that your girlfriend makes you do skin care." You snickered to yourself.

"Hmph." Simon snorted and laughed, "Shut up." He murmured, his voice carried no heat in it but a small smirk was on his lips.

Your thoughts still wavered at the fear you felt of being chased, and yet the excitement of knowing what Simon would do to you but... Simon was a pretty dangerous man. The fear of being chased by a man who had zero intentions on harming you had some excitement in it, the feeling of adrenaline was addicting. Your thoughts started to roam freely, the more you thought about it, the more you realize just how dangerous Simon was.

He knew how to hunt people, he did it so smoothly. The thought of it began to scare you yet it turned you on.

You swallowed hard before taking another sip of hot coco. That's enough dick tonight.

You feel Simon's hand gently rub your kneecap, being careful of the sore skin. It felt soothing in a way. He felt guilty, he was too tight, he pushed you too hard, he scared you. This was him processing, beating himself up.

You felt him huff, looking up at him curiously with both blanket covered hands still on your mug.

"Tired?" You questioned, trying to see what was wrong.

"No." Simon answered shortly.

You knew that tone. He didn't want to worry you. His grip on your shoulder was looser, his hand played with your hair as he looked at you.

"Just thinkin' 'bout somethin'." He said, his body was still, his eyes were locked on yours as he spoke.

"What is it?" You asked softly, keeping your attention on him.

"Nothin'." Simon muttered, a little stern, he was lying. "Nothin' at all." He added, lowered to a quiet voice as he lied to you.

"Simon." You deadpanned quietly.

"What." He answered with the same sternness.

"Don't lie." You stated quietly, being serious with your words yet gentle.

"Fine." He mumbles, "I was thinkin' 'bout the fact o' what would happen if I randomly slip into my... work mode around you, I don't want to do that an' scare you accidentally." Simon explained, it was the truth, he was being honest with you for a change.

"Scare me...?" You echoed in a whisper, confusion in your tone as you rested your cheek on his shoulder to listen.

"Yeah, scare you." Simon murmured, it was a possibility.

There were many times where he's had to go into his soldier persona, it was quite a drastic change.

"'M scared that me bein' like that would cause me to scare you an' f'you to become scared o' me." Simon explained.

The idea of you being scared of him was unsettling, and completely impossible. You live with him, the only thing you see of him is his uncaring moods when you get up to shit head activity.

"And you think that's a likely possibility that I would be scared of you?" You pieced together.

Simon nodded slowly. "Yes." Still avoiding eye contact with you.

"I don't think I'd be scared of you. I think it would be fear of your capabilities." You replied, realizing how it probably didn't help the situation. "I mean—what I'm trying to say is I don't think I can be afraid of you for my safety."

"But the thing is..." Simon took a deep breath before continuing, "I- in my work mind, 'm capable o' hurtin' anyone. Anyone." He muttered as his voice lowered a bit more.

"I-I know.." You whispered, listening to him.

Maybe Simon just had to make it known with words that he wouldn't hurt you, just get it in the open and there.

"I won't hurt you. Not ever, I wouldn't even think 'bout it." He was giving you his word that he wouldn't hurt you, not even in his soldier persona.

"I know that, Si." You put your hand on his chest, looking up to his lidded eyes with reassurance.

"But it's still somethin' that bothers me a lot." His gaze locked on yours, his other hand running through your hair softly. "I jus' don't want you t'be scared o' me." He murmured softly.

"I'm not scared. I couldn't be... Not when you're like this." You soothed, your palm rubbing on his pec slowly.

It breaks your heart, the man you love thinking he would hurt you, scare you, after how sweet and caring he actually is.

"But what if I was not like this." Simon considered, "What if 'm 'ome an' suddenly switch on you. Would you still feel safe?

He was looking at you in the eyes as he spoke, you could see how much this mattered to him. This had to be something he had been thinking about for awhile.

"Yes." You answered immediately, soft and truthful without hesitation. "You wouldn't hurt me yourself, meaning you wouldn't let someone else hurt me."

Just the fact that you trusted him so much was a comfort. You knew better, when it came to him.

"No. I wouldn't." He agreed, "I wouldn't let anyone hurt you." It was the truth.

He would never let anyone hurt you, he would rather fight off anyone that would dare to harm you.

You finished the rest of your hot coco, setting it on the coffee table and curling under his arms against his chest with a satisfied grunt.

"Comfortable?" He murmured.

It was a very cute sight, you sitting under his arms, almost curled up against him.

His head was still facing the television, his attention was still there to an extent but you were satisfied by the position you were in right now. He tightened his grip on you with one arm as his other arm still played with your hair idly.

You nodded, bringing the blanket up further around your body and tossing some to Simon to share. He grabbed the blanket that you tossed him and he pulled it over his body, tangling his leg between yours.

He kept stroking your hair to your shoulders lovingly with one hand as his eyes stayed glued to the TV screen. His warmth traps under the blanket, that paired with a full belly of snacks and a warm drink? Having a relaxing bath and new clothes after having a mind blowing orgasm?

You fell right asleep in his arms. Where it's safe.

#simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley imagine #simon ghost riley cod #simon riley x reader #simon riley #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #call of duty #ao3 fanfic #ao3 #fanfic

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bizbat · 4 months ago

Note

hiii

so i had a thought of like, jason with a gf who has trouble getting wet no matter how turned on she is, and she’s embarrassed so she kinda puts off them having sex for a while.

and he’s so confused and just thinking that she doesn’t like him enough or something until one day he finally says something and she gives in and tells him

and he’s just sitting there like “…. you mean all we had to do was buy lube?”

and then wonderful (smutty.) things ensue

please and thank you, mwah 😘

Not A Problem . . .

🕸️Spiderverse Masterlist🕸️

🐼JJK Masterlist🐼

~ Jason Todd x Fem!AFAB!Reader

~ Explicit Smut

~ Reader is not described.

~ Wc:1.039k

~ You can find more of my works here.

C/W: Smut, PiV penetration, Oral (female receiving), Fingering, Pet names (Angel, Baby, Pretty), Mdom, FSub, Healthy Dom/Sub dynamics (communication, explicit consent), Use of the terms "cunt", "pussy", "tits", "ass", "cock", "asshole", Non-penetrative sex, Multiple orgasms, Overstim, Teasing, Hair pulling, Crying, Dacryphilia

It really, really isn't.

Looking back now, you can't believe you were ever worried about it.

You vividly remember pushing off advancing your relationship with Jason in that way, terrified of what he might say, how he might react. You remember having to hype yourself up to tell him, getting all serious, sitting him down one day after "work", you'd even spent the day thinking up clever segways into the conversation.

The topic, of course, being that no matter how hard you try, you cannot get wet.

No matter how much foreplay, no matter how much you touch yourself, you can't bring your body to secrete those famous, ever-important juices. And it's been really hard. In past relationships, you've either been forced to deal with the discomfort, or deny sex all together. But not with Jason.

You wanted to do everything with him, kiss him, love him, fuck him, everything. Which is why you got all serious with him to begin with. You remember telling him you had something you wanted to talk about, sitting beside him on the couch, and holding his hands in yours as you took a deep breath, and began explaining your problem. He was very sincere as he listened to you, his eyes never leaving your nervous face as he patiently let you explain the issue that had been plaguing your previous relationships. He took the whole thing very seriously.

Or at least, he did, until you had stopped speaking. Once the heavy silence overtook the room, he could no longer hold back the small smile that spread across his face, nor the tiny chuckle that escaped his lips. He quickly slapped his hand over his mouth to try to hide it before you could catch it, but the look of betrayal had already been plastered clean across your face. He cracks up as he reaches out to grab at your fleeting figure.

Honestly though, you're not sure why you ever so worried to begin with. Jason's head stuffed between your thighs is enough evidence to convince you he was never gonna judge you. The spit dripping down your thighs in thick rivers is all the reassurance you could've needed. His tongue furiously stroking your clit as his fingers pump in and out of your sweet cunt prove his dedication to pleasing you, no matter what little obstacles present themselves in your relationship.

He groans into your pussy, the vibrations sending waves of pleasure up your core, tingling up your back as you arch up from the plush carpet on the floor, which you're sure you'll have to replace. Your hands harshly tug at his dark locks, which, only makes him moan louder. Your legs strain from where they're laid over his shoulders, your hips tiredly thrusting against his soaking wet face.

Your eyes are far too blurry for you to see the lovestruck look on his face. At this point, what feels hours into eating you out like a man starved, he's just as out of it as you are, borderline losing brain function from the lack of oxygen. He's gone he barely even notices his cock painfully straining against his pants, or the ache forming in his knees and thighs from kneeling over you.

At some point, you have to push him away, your clit too sensitive to take any more abuse from his fingers, lips, and tongue. Your chest heaves up and down as you try your best to pull yourself away from his hungry mouth, your legs too tired to do anything to offer any kind of real service. Jason can only laugh at your desperate attempts, a combination of spit and slick coating your thighs and ass, making your skin glint and glisten so beautifully under the soft, warm light of your apartment.

He follows your pussy with his mouth as you squirm away. Your weak body only manages to pull you a few inches from where you originally started, only laying on your tummy now, instead of your back. He lets out a laugh, it's tired and raspy and like music to your ears, as he leans down and grips both of your ass cheeks, pulling them apart so he can spit a fat glob of saliva onto your tight asshole. He watches in an almost manic delight as it slowly spills down onto your drenched pussy, puffy from his tireless mouth. "Ah ah ah pretty," He coos at you gently, his hands gripping onto your hips to stop you from pulling away any more. "Gotta make sure you're nice an' wet, yeah?"

He's really gotta be out of it, to not see the buckets of secretion spilling down your thighs, and dripping from your cunt like a faucet. Regardless, he's still not satisfied, watching in amusement as your ass shakes when he delivers a wet slap. You can't tell if it was a harsh slap, or if your body is just too sensitive from his touch at this point, but you still gasp either way, fresh tears spilling from your eyes and dripping down your flushed cheeks.

"Don't we baby? Answer me." He groans biting his lip at the sight of your tears. You can't even remember the question, you think you say yes, but your brain isn't sending the proper signals to your mouth at the moment, so for all you know, you just let out incoherent babble. Either way, Jason seems to be pleased, murmuring out some sort of praise as he goes back to burying his head in-between your thighs.

His hands tug and squeeze at your ass, the fat filling his hands so deliciously, as he sucks and slurps at your cunt like it was his favorite meal on the planet. And truly, it might just be. He couldn't be more thankful that you told him you had a hard time getting wet, because now it gave him the excuse to eat you out for as long as physically possible.

And fuck, you'll let him. You almost feel stupid for worrying about it in the first place. Your fears that he wouldn't want to have sex with you after finding out, feel like a joke now. Clearly, to him, it's not a problem. It really, really isn't.

#bizbat #dc #jason todd #jason todd x reader #dc smut #jason todd smut #dc x reader #red hood #red hood smut #red hood x reader

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amaranthineghost · 1 year ago

Text

| I CANT HELP BUT PUSH YOU AWAY, MY DEAR. SELF SABOTAGE IS ALL I KNOW ( lando norris. ) |

ꕥ pairing: lando x reader

ꕥ summary: feeling loved is foreign to her, she wants to self sabotage, but he won't let her.

ꕥ authors note: I enjoyed this too much, probably one of my favorites I've written, not requested. side note, this will probably be the last thing i write because i work like 20 hours this weekend (including friday) plus another 15 hours next week(not including sunday) so i'll be busy with work and school, but i'll try my best to get some writing done. I suspect i'll be working more because of christmas being close, but we'll see! thanks for all the support <3

if anyone has any christmas requests for any driver, PLEASE i would love to write it :3

ꕥ warnings: mentions of anxiety and overthinking and everything that comes with it, as well as struggles eating caused by anxiety, partially unrevised.

GIVING LOVE WAS EASY. receiving it felt too good to be true. giving love was easy when she'd spent her entire adolescence handing it out like a warm beverage on a cold day. it was always up for grabs, and people always wanted to take it for granted.

the idea of love was something she'd daydream about daily, craving it in a way she didn't believed she deserved. giving her love away was easy because she had lots to give. she'd trust easily, but not at the same time. she'd give her heart, but not her mind and that's how she'd end up hurting.

she longed to be loved. she swore every single love language was hers, but she'd realize how often she'd crave a single touch from the man she wanted. physical touch was always the one she longed for.

love was hard to believe. she was surrounded by it, but she never had it on the level others had.

she longed to be loved, but could she handle being loved? she knew she couldn't from past, failed relationships that failed because of her. because all it took was one relationship to break her trust for the rest to follow.

it was hard to trust that relationship to begin with, anxiety ate her away with every waking moment. she didn't believe she deserved to receive love in return of giving hers away. countless times her friends told her that he didn't deserve the love she gave him, it was best that she found out who he really was, but it destroyed her.

because now when any man showed any slight interest in her, she'd recede with heaps of anxiety.

growing up, from a kid to a teenager, she was never told she was pretty or attractive. she never had the attention from the right guys to make her feel it too. she knew she didn't need guys to tell her things to make her feel better, but she wanted them to. she'd watch her friends find solid relationships, or go between guys. she couldn't find one.

it solidified her belief that maybe she wasn't deserving. being loved was so foreign to her, she didn't know how it felt to be loved in the right way.

after all, all she knew was heartbreak and self-sabotage.

when she'd finally found her first relationship, she'd swallow the looming anxiety that bubbled in the pit of her stomach. because someone wanted to be with her. she'd give them all her heart, she'd give them her trust.

but a relationship laced with infidelity was bound to burn. and so it did. it set a fire greater than she could've put out by herself. because deep inside, it still burned in her heart. it ruined her. now she couldn't comprehend the idea of trusting someone on such a level as a relationship. being genuinely loved by someone other than herself, but even she couldn't. she didn't deserve it. because what others couldn't see in her, she couldn't see in herself.

every other 'relationship' that followed failed. they burned before they even got a chance to ignite into something else. something good, and or something bad.

because she'd never let them get close enough to have her trust. she wasn't the type to easily communicate her feelings towards another individual, pushing it into the deepest depths of her heart and mind. for her and her only.

growing up, her feelings were often stepped on or put out. she'd get called a cry baby, or no one would even care to listen. it's one of the reasons her self sabotages work so well.

she wouldn't communicate, a key component to the formula for a relationship. because what goods a relationship that you know nothing about. what goods a relationship that she's miserable in because she's too scared and untrusting to let someone through to her heart again.

it was a miracle she even managed to date him, let alone meet him in the first place. he was famous, she was her. one of the reasons she didn't think the relationship was going to go as far as it did.

because she'd constantly compare herself to his former lovers. pretty models with perfect features, famous like him.

but the attraction between the two was undeniable, even she had to admit. when they'd lock eyes for the first time, she felt that same anxiety. she always felt it when faced with anything that could be more than just a friendship. but he was different because not only was the feeling of anxiety present, the feeling of wanting more, longing.

though with every notification, she found herself praying it wasn't him, not because she didn't like him because dear god, he was probably the most attractive man she's ever seen. but because she didn't know how to talk to someone with the intention of being more than friends.

it was so vastly different than if she was texting to become friends. she couldn't imagine going from barely knowing each other, to hanging out, to dating.

because it meant she had to trust the person. she'd have to trust herself, and she didn't know if she could handle it.

she found herself struggling to reply within a message that didn't seem too dry, but not giving her burning heart away like charity. she was never good at it.

but when random texts throughout the day turned to late night conversations over the phone, to falling asleep on facetime calls, she knew she was in too deep.

especially when they'd hung out for the first time. they had a magnetic energy pulling one another together, like they couldn't and wouldn't be separated. neither of them wanted to.

but she didn't know what to tell him. she didn't know how to express her feelings when she's forced herself to keep quiet for as long as she can remember. she didn't know how to tell him she needed words of reassurance because her anxiety was her mortal enemy.

it wasn't like she couldn't trust him, she knew she could. but her mind made every possible way that he couldn't be trusted by her. it was always in her thoughts.

self sabotage seemed like the better alternative than spilling her heart and hurt to him, or overthinking every way that this would be a bad thing because there's no way he could be good to her.

when the days of anxiety got particularly worse after they'd started dating, he'd notice the times when she'd shy from his touch. he noticed her lips more irritated than usual from the consistent biting, or how short her nails became. how little she ate, and how much she'd pick at her food, pushing it around the plate till it got cold.

days like those, he did what he could with what he knew, which seemed like nothing. but he'd never fail to say something that he'd hoped would make her feel better.

and it did, at least a little.

as she laid on her back in his bed, her eyes stared into the dark of his room. her stomach rolled with the nauseous feeling that came with her anxiety, and biting her lip became a routine. her head turned to see the back of his. lando's curly hair, the chain around his neck, his bare shoulders and back. a sight to see, especially in the dark.

she'd spent countless nights awake long after he falls asleep, each time she'd carefully reach for his phone. she knew it was wrong, but she needed reassurance, and she didn't want to ask for it. but his phone was password protected, something she was too scared to even hint at.

so it became a routine. stay up well past when he'd fallen asleep, slipping his phone in her hand and simply trying a few passcodes she could think of that might work. to no avail, she'd place the phone right back, trying to make it seem like it never moved.

his phone had face id, she knew but it always seemed too risky, even for her. but she was desperate. she needed to know even when in her heart, she knew there wasn't a chance of infidelity. but her heart was charred and still in flames, so it wasn't enough.

she'd hold his phone in her hand, sliding across the cold phone case that'd matched hers. her heart beat in her chest as she slowly turned closer.

her body loomed over his, her arm snaking in front of his tired face, desperately trying for face id. she knew it'd be too dark, but this was the only time she'd actually try something. she saw the screen illuminate his face slightly, but not enough.

" 'm password's your birthday," his words slurred because of his tiredness, but nonetheless she heard him and she froze. he knew she'd been trying to get into his phone? for how long?

her mouth was dropped open and she slowly retreated the phone, though the rest of her body in shock. her feelings were conflicting. it never occurred to her that his password would be about her. because in her mind, she wasn't important enough for that.

with her breath held, sweaty palms and shaky hands, her fingers danced across the number pad, entering the date.

it worked, her eyes flickering back to him. the fact he was so willing was already enough to calm her because if it was any of her past situationships, she'd be sure they wouldn't be so forgiving if they found her with their phone. it was a deal breaker in the past.

but the way he just didn't care was nearly enough for her. at this point, she just wanted a peak, and that's all she did.

when she reassured her heart, she'd slid his phone back on his bedside table. she laid back down on her side, thoughts running through her mind at a million miles. she turned to him once again, slipping her arms around his midsection. she felt the warmth of his back spread across her chest, pressing her cheek against his skin and fluttering her eyes shut. for so long, she'd craved touch, being held by someone she was in love with.

she'd remember the last feeling she felt before slipping into a warm slumber, the sensation of his smooth and callused hand around her wrist, his thumb caressing her skin softly. she'd smirk against his back.

when morning came, she didn't know what to expect. most of the time, she wouldn't even make it through the night before she was kicked out, forced to go back home. because to them, it was much easier to force her out than to have a conversation with her. she didn't know which one she'd prefer though.

because what she didn't expect was waking up to the sun in her face, leaking through the curtains and spilling across the bed. she'd found her way to the other side of his bed, lying on her stomach with his arm across her back. her hands found their way to his wrist, feeling the multitude of bracelets between her fingers. she examined the difference between them, the fancy designers to handmade ones from his fans.

though mostly silver, there was an odd gold one that stood out, it caught her attention. the corners of her lips twitched into a smile as she separated it from the rest on his wrist. though it was mostly a simple thin chain, it had a bar with the designer name on it. she'd liked it. it was simple and pretty.

she heard the bed rustle next to her, she dropped the bracelet back down on his wrist, her head turning to watch him go from lying on his stomach to pressing his chest against her back. though his eyes still closed, he'd press his face into her neck tiredly. the hand that she'd played with grabbed hers while his other arm snaked around her shoulder and across her chest.

"you can have it, if you want," he muttered against her skin, sending chills down her spine and vibrations through her skin as she inhaled sharply. she watched him bring his hands close together, unclasping the simple bracelet.

"you don't have to, lando-" she stuttered, assuring him it was fine, but he was stubborn. he'd shush her, lifting his head to find her wrist as he'd place it around it.

" 'ts fine," he told her, "pretty girls should have pretty bracelets," he whispered against her shoulder, his lips lingering on her skin. he'd tuck the loose strands of her hair behind her ear. she felt his breath against her, shuddering.

"are you sure?" she questioned, her voice barely above a whisper when she'd look into his green eyes, watching how his pupils change size. she now laid facing him with her arm under her, supporting her weight.

she was scared it was some sort of bribe, that he'd ask her to do something in return, or that it'd be a thing to use for her to overlook something he'd done.

he nodded, studying every feature of her face. every mole, freckle and blemish, every lash on her eyelid, noticing how some crossed over the other.

"y'know we need to talk, yeah?" his tone was gentle, the rasp of his morning voice melted her brain. her heart paused, her eyes dancing across his face as he waited for an answer. his head tilted to the side.

she brought her hand to her face, biting at the flesh around her nails nervously. she felt anxiety creep over her body, tummy churning with unease. she just nodded back, unknowing of what to say.

" 'm not mad, love," he brought his hand to her face, the pads of his fingers running across her cheek, slipping into her hair, "jus' want to know what's goin' on."

the way his voice was so warm and inviting, with the slight rasp in his throat, causing a dip in his voice with every hushed word he spoke, it caused shivers across her body.

her lips parted, but no words left her throat. she pursed them together before thinking of what to say. she'd whisper back to him, "I jus' don't know how to tell you."

his head tilted even more, feeling his fingers scratch her scalp softly, "tell me what?"

"how I feel."

he felt a pang in his heart as he heard her words, the hurt laced into her voice as she watched his face closely, "how do you feel?"

she hesitated, looking at her hand nervously, finicking with the new bracelet on her wrist when he'd carefully push her chin up to meet his face.

she sighed, biting her cheek, "I feel," she started, "like I don't deserve to be loved."

she'd watch his eyes soften at her words, the expression on his face growing sadder the more he processed what she said.

he shook his head, "you do deserve it, darling, m'kay?" he leaned closer, his forehead against her, "I don't know how many times I'll need to say it for you, but I will because it's true."

his words sunk into her skin, her mind, her heart still set afire all these years later. she couldn't extinguish it by herself, but he could.

the fire that burned in her heart started to diminish with every word, with every sentence of affirmation from him. it told her she could spill her guts to him and he'd be there to simply listen. she needed that so desperately.

"I'll tell you anything you want to hear," he sat up more on the bed, his head stretching above hers, "but we need to work together on this." his hand pulled from her hair and lined across her jaw.

she nodded, sighing softly as she looked up at him with half-lidded eyes, her tongue gliding across her cracked lips with a stinging pain.

"I jus' get really anxious, and then I start to overthink," she started so easily and without realizing, she couldn't stop.

she'd spill all her trust on him and he'd pick it up and lock it safely with him. because he'd die than betray her trust, after they'd worked so hard to make this work.

he'd see the fire ablaze in her heart and body and put it out in a matter of a few words when it took her years to even lessen the hurt.

he'd restore her charred heart, picking away at the blackness that plagued it. picking her mind apart from the bad and making her realize what she needed all along.

he put out her fire.

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lcriedlastnight · 5 months ago

Note

Enemies to lovers with Lando: "you want me?" "you know i do"

thank you so much for your request, anon!

tw: fem!reader, swears, wee bit angsty, she's a big one, dickhead!lando. lmk if you want me to add anything.

w/c: 2.8k

this weekend had gone horrible for lando so far, and of course as his assistant you had gotten the brunt of it. on days like this you don't know why you didn't just quit your job. lando clearly didn't like you, in fact you would go as far to say that he hated you and wouldn't everything go much more smoothly if you both liked each other? you lay awake in bed at night - especially after a rough day of running around like a headless chicken after lando - thinking about having a job where your boss didn't curse the ground you walked on.

you had been working overtime this weekend, making sure that lando had everything he needed all weekend for press conferences, meetings with zak and andrea and even when he needed a second alone to himself in his drivers room, you would make sure to tell anyone who was looking for him that he was busy, just so he could get a break. you had decided when lando was in looking at data after both free practise rounds on friday to grab a bite to eat. you hadn't eaten since breakfast, it was now a little past five. it wasn't an exaggeration to say you were starving.

you head towards some tables next to the cafeteria and pull what you had brought for lunch out of your bag. you pull out your phone, scrolling through your texts, one catching your eye. it was the groupchat you had with all your friends, baring in mind there was only four of you.

'it's like a double date but for the four of us!" lara, had said. the other girls seemed to disagree with whatever her idea was. you scroll down further to see the newer messages.

'what if we set her up? i'm sure her boss will give her the saturday off to go on a date with him." again it was lara who suggested it, but it caught your eye because she was talking about you. who was she trying to set you up with and why was she even doing it in the first place? there was also no way lando would be giving you saturday off, never mind during a race weekend.

you tell them so before hearing the distinct voices of lando and zak chatting away as they make their way down the hall. you sigh and pack away your half eaten lunch. you could've finished it, you were sure lando wasn't that much of a dick that he would deny you of food but you didn't want him to hold it over your head. you knew for certain he would do that. you shove the lunch bag into the bigger bag then sling it over your shoulder. your phone pings, a message from the groupchat.

'too late it's already set up, ask your boss and we'll go shopping on monday when you're home.' lara says. you could kill her. you don't respond, just shoving your phone into your pocket and walking over to lando and zak.

"hey, great to see you again!" zak greets you with a cheery smile. it's easy to happy around zak, the only time you've seen him annoyed or upset has been on bad race days. you're sort of surprised he is so because lando has not been performing so far this weekend. you bite your tongue on that one, instead giving him a smile back and returning his polite words.

"well look, as i said before, this is only friday, the only day where what you drive like matters is sunday. that's when we get the points. although i'm sure you will be back on your game tomorrow. we all have off days." zak tells lando, a comforting hand on his shoulder before he walks off in the direction he came in. you spot oscar too, so there is no doubt that it is oscar's turn for his driving this weekend to be analysed. oscar's weekend comapred to lando's has been pretty good.

"that's you for today. nothing else you're needed for." you tell lando, triple checking his calandar, making sure you were looking friday. the time where you were accidentally looking at his saturday schedule instead stays at the forefront of your mind whenever you look at his calandar.

"i know. you told me that before." lando remarks, his voice blunt and a little nasty. its like your presence just pisses lando off. you remember the date your friends set you up with and will courage to fill your veins before asking him.

"what are you still doing standing there?" lando asks, not genuinely asking, just wanting you to leave him alone. he hates seeing you outside of work and although you were in the paddock, he deems this outside of work.

you take a deep breath before just directly asking him. "can i have next saturday off?". lando stops untying his fireproofs. he looks up at you.

"why? why are you making plans on a race weekend?" he condescends, like you were stupid.

"i didn't. my friends set me up on a date without asking." you explain. you hated explaining yourself to him but you knew if there was any chance you were getting saturday off then you had to do what he asked.

lando pauses for a second, staring at you then returns to undoing his fireproofs. "no. i need you here." he declares.

you shouldn't be shocked he said no, you really should have seen it coming but it still surprises you nonetheless.

"you can't go without me for just one day?" you ask, as if you were desperate to go on this date. now it was more about him not giving you the day off than it was about actually going on the date.

lando's brows crinkle. "no. if i give you the saturday off then you'll need the sunday off too as i'm guessing it's not here so unless you're planning on flying over straight after your date?" he spits out the end of the sentence. you had not thought about that. you are quiet as you take in his words.

"that's what i thought. tell your friends to cancel the date, you're coming with me all weekend." lando basically demands.

"i'm not sure why you even want me here. you hate me, i don't know why you haven't just fired me and found a new assistant. this would work a lot better for you if you actually liked the person you need to spend the whole weekend with." you grumble, annoyed at his attitude and how he felt like he could just go around telling you what you could and couldn't do with your life. it seriously felt like you were cutting off you social life for this job. you storm past lando and straight out of the paddock into the uber waiting for you, it stands out against the rich, fancy cars surrounding it in the carpark.

you drive back to the hotel in silence, in one of those moods where everything was annoying you. you hate the fact that you had to stay in the same hotel as him. you had never been this mad at your job before. you try to unwind once you are back at the hotel by jumping into the shower but it does not help.

once you have gotten yourself dry and have gotten changed for bed, you eat the rest of your ruined lunch/dinner and text your friends back letting them know that lando was in fact, not giving you the day off for the date. you then throw yourself into bed. you put the tv on but the only channel that spoke english was the news channel and you seriously couldn't care less about the way people make tea. how did stuff like this even make the news anyway?

you scroll through all your social media apps then decide to download a job app. you enter your qualifications, cv and a description about yourself and your current job. you apply to a few then feel yourself getting tired so you set your alarms and head to sleep, dreading having to see lando tomorrow. you hope he's in a good mood because even though it doesn't matter what mood lando is in, he's still a dick to you, he's a little bit nicer when he's in a better mood.

you go over everything in the morning before you leave, making sure you have everything. as you make your way to the uber waiting outside the hotel, you check the job app but you have no new notifications. you usually only uber back to the hotels and lando drives you there seeing as you both have to arrive at the same time but there was no way you were spending more time than what you had to with him today. you seen him in the hotel carpark getting into his car when your uber was pulling away, so at least you knew he would be on time.

you and lando arrive at the paddock at the same time, you know you would have to wait for him before going in because andrea wanted to have a quick meeting with the three drivers ahead of the practise session and qualifying.

lando sees you waiting and eventually catches up to you. "andrea wants to see you guys before free practise today. i don't know how long for but it might be long 'cause he wants to talk about quali too." you don't look up from your phone as you read out what had been added to his calendar late last night.

"alright." lando replies. there's no nasty comments, no bluntness and no condescension. you are completely shocked but don't let it show on your face as you both walk inside the mclaren motor home together.

you spot oscar in the corner, eating some sort or energy bar? or maybe some kind of breakfast bar. either way it reminded you that lando probably hasn't eaten yet today, so as he and oscar head towards the meeting room you try to find something lando can eat. oscar has told you many times that making sure lando eats is not in the assistants job responsibilities and yet you feel yourself compelled to make sure he is taking care of himself.

you grab a few of the same bars you seen oscar eating earlier before heading towards the meeting room. you hate walking into the meeting room when there was meetings going on so you try your best not to do it. you have only had to do it once and it was the worst thing you've ever had to do. you were so embarrassed.

everyone is surprised at your interruption but you give them a shy smile and head towards lando. you don't say anything just setting the three bars down on the table in front of him. lando locks eyes with you. "thank you." he says.

this time you can't hide your shock as it's written plainly on your face. it's hidden from the others in the room except lando. you only smile in response then rush out the room. what is going on with him today? you sit on the same table you tried to take your break on yesterday as you respond to emails of lando's behalf and it hits you. lando is clearly feeling bad. you'll talk to him before qualifying.

the meeting ends ends and both mclaren boys are quick to get ready for free practise. from the looks of it, zak was right. lando was back in the game today. he came in third on the time sheets. you hoped this would mean a good qualifying, if not for lando and mclaren but for you. this good mood and lando treating you nicer would definitely go down in flames if lando didn't place in the top five for qualifying. you have never been religious, but you prayed then for it to happen.

you stood at the back of the garage, talking to one of lando's engineers when the man himself came over and dragged you away from him. you didn't even get a chance to apologise for lando's rude behaviour before you were both standing in the hallway to the driver rooms.

lando doesn't speak he just leans forward, pressing his lips to yours in a hesitant and light, kiss. when you didn't react he kissed you again with a little more force. every single thing in you was telling you to kiss him back but there was a single thought in your brain that reminded you who he was and how had treated you the past year. you end up pulling away and asking "what are you doing?".

lando looks at you confused. "you know what i'm doing." he utters, voice laced with confusion, like he seriously didn't understand what the problem with kissing you out of nowhere was.

"uh i don't think i do." you cross your arms, waiting for an expantation.

"i want you." lando tried to say confidently, but it comes out a little weaker than what he expected. he puffs out his chest and stands a bit taller, trying to see more confident.

"you want me?" you repeat back to him. surely he wasn't being serious.

"you know i do." lando responds, hand flying up to cup your cheek. you look at him confused. there is no way he has been living the same year that you have. what the fuck does he mean 'i want you'? you have literally never felt more confused in your life.

"do i? last time we spoke you wouldn't let me have a day off?" you remind him. you want to remind him of a lot of things right now, like every single moment he made you go home or even back to your hotel room and cry. his hand moves from your cheek.

"yeah and why do you think that was? because you were going on a date. with some guy. i don't want you going on dates with random guys i want you going on dates with me." lando tries, desperate to explain himself to you.

"i don't think you have a right to tell me who i can and can't go out with, lando." you are seething. who does he think he is messing around in your life like this? "you're abusing your position as my employer."

"fine. you want the weekend off to go on a date? you can have it off then." lando says, firm and a little sad. before you can say anything back to him, he storms away into his drivers room. you don't know why you just did that. you don't even want to go on the date, you would love to go on the date with lando instead, just like he proposed but you were still annoyed at the way he treated you. you know why he did it now but it still doesn't make it right.

you don't see lando for hours until there are people crowding around his driver room telling him it's time to come out for qualifying. you guess from the noise that lando eventually comes out. zak is there telling him information about the car. you suddenly feel that you need to tell him you do like him. right now. you just felt like he had to know. so you squeeze through the people making their way to his car with him. you find lando's hand and give it a tight squeeze to get his attention.

you pull him closer before you whisper into ear, not wanting all the people surrounding him to hear. "i want you too, but you hurt me. apologise and we can maybe work something out." you reveal. lando's eyes widen, with what you can clearly tell is happiness. he doesn't even have any time to answer you so all he gets to do is nod as he's told to get into the car.

you watch the qualifying with eager eyes, this is the fiirst time since you started that you were actually excited to watch lando race, even though it was just qualifying. he really does put the 'flying' into the flying laps. after a very long hour, lando qualifies in second.

"front row for lando!" the garage exclaims in joy. you can't help but join in. you all wait for lando's car to return to the garage before people are patting him on the shoulder in congradualations.

lando speaks to a few people before he spots you through the crowd, he wades through it to get to you. "hi. i'm so fucking sorry for being a dick to you for the past year. i don't know how to cope with my feelings and i ended up turning positive feeling into negative ones and taking it out on you. i'm so fucking sorry, please let me make it up to you." lando begs. you don't know how he knew that you didn't want anything big as an apology, just lando admitting he was wrong was enough for you.

you nod with a smile to his question and lando seals it with a kiss, not caring that the garage was filled with people and most importantly cameras. he could deal with that later. for right now he had you.

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pearlywritings · 9 months ago

Text

A slip of the tongue

synopsis: as smart as Alhaitham is, sometimes he blurts out things without thinking twice. It's good, however, that your husband knows when an apology is due, even though it doesn't mean you (and your friend) won't come up with something to pay him back with~

pairing and characters: Alhaitham x fem!reader

tw: established relationship (marriage), little hurt/instant comfort, a bit suggestive, Kaveh is lowkey couple's marriage counselor

word count: 3.7k+ words

a/n: wow, finally releasing this one out of the basement!

Here is the second part btw

Your cheek starts hurting from how long the knuckles of your fist have been digging into it. Fingertips drum on your knee, as legs stay crossed and stare fixed on the figure before you, sitting on the chair across the table and not taking the eyes off of the book pages. The most infuriating part of it? The figure is talking.

"...and so you should be prepared for Rajkumar's endless questions. He might not have any relation to Haravatat or languages at all, but he has a bone to pick with me, so being my wife puts you in a position to attack. And you know how annoying it is to converse with an idiot."

Yeah, probably as much as hearing what you are already aware of. You love your husband, you truly do, but sometimes the urge to smack the back of his head and tell him to shut up is too tempting.

All you said was that you were a little nervous and mentioned that tomorrow is indeed one of the most important days for you. After all, you are going to defend your second thesis, one you spent years to complete and pass all sorts of verification, reviews and censorship. Having the Scribe as your husband had both its perks and drawbacks in the process - he could easily push your work forward to the necessary people in charge of all the mentioned above stages of approbation, but then the fact he was your spouse put a label on you for those who were aware, and it said “Needs to be examined more thoroughly”. Though come to think of it, it’s pretty illogical.

Fortunately you never had troubles with that - after all your brain was in place, and both topics of your first and now current papers were innovative. Moreso, many of your Haravatat professors agree on your academic success and some of them expressed their hope to see you in the role of their colleague in the future.

But it’s for the future. First you need to become the Dastur, and for that you need to defend your thesis in the present. You have absolutely everything ready, no one knows your topic better than you are (maybe only Alhaitham can come close, since he read and reread it multiple times, helping with editing and providing impartial perspective), and years at the Akademyia taught you how to withstand the piercing eyes and prickling words of the jury. You will be fine.

Or you thought so, before just one phrase of yours started this whole exchange that is now happening in your kitchen.

“...and remember the part in the third chapter we discussed with you. This will be the one they’ll claw at, since it’s a turning point in a whole theory and I heard some of them already criticizing it,” the male hums, turning another page, eyes scanning the words written on a yellowed from time piece of paper. This seems the last comment of his, as he falls silent, reaching for the cup of coffee you’ve made him - in the process of which you were short-sighted to voice your concern.

When a minute passes and you do not answer anyhow to any of the valuable advice he’s just given you, Alhaitham lowers his book and stares at you. You keep drumming your fingers on your knee, eyes boring into him and almost unblinking, and it’s not hard for such an observant man to notice a barely-veiled displeasure in your tired eyes and a scowl.

"You know you could've just said you are worried about tomorrow too, and leave it at that?"

Alhaitham blinks, hand frozen in the middle of lowering the mug back on the table. He is holding your gaze and you can practically see the thoughts running through his mind, he is clearly contemplating how to answer your bold statement.

“Why would I be worried?” He finally answers with a question on your own, putting the mug on the flat surface. “It’s just a thesis defense, and if you get rid of your nervousness you’ll see that you already have the Dastur title in your pocket. Tomorrow is just a formality for you.”

“So you are not coming to watch me tomorrow?” Your scowl and frown deepens, fingers stopping abusing your knee and curling in a fist instead. Your husband sighs, marking the page with a bookmark you’ve made for him and closing the volume he’s been on for the past week. Then his captivating eyes are back on you.

“Scribe isn’t required to attend. Besides-”

“Yeah, yeah, you know my work enough to not hear anything new in my presentation,” you interrupt him and he can clearly hear rising anger in your voice that wasn’t there before. It actually manages to shut him up. “As my husband, as my support, are you going to come?”

The man feels a twinge of guilt in his heart. He always prided himself of his intelligence and attentiveness, yet just now he failed to assume what exactly you expected of his presence. Of course he’d want to give you a peace of mind by being there, but it seems he is too used to uttering the same phrase every single time someone asks him to come, that it was out faster than he had a moment to think it over properly.

He sees a bit too late how your face drops when he doesn’t give you an answer immediately - it looks like his pause appeared to be hesitance to you. He slightly panics when you lower your gaze and move to uncross your legs to stand up, having an almost iron grip on the back of the chair.

“Wait- Dear, I will come,” at that your eyes flicker at him, with doubt on display in your beautiful orbs. “I promise, I’ll be there.”

“I thought you didn’t like to be around idiots the whole day,” you huff, crossing your arms, reminding him of how unflattering his words towards some of his colleagues were. You do not mean to act childish, but tomorrow is really important to you, and obviously you’d want to have your husband be there to share it with you.

Alhaitham puts the book aside and stands up as well, rounding the table and coming closer to you. His fingers deftly touch your elbow, and you will yourself not to jerk it, some annoyance still bubbling in your system.

“That is correct. However, you are not one of them,” he murmurs, caressing your arm. You huff again, but this time your posture is more relaxed. “Besides, all you need is to be confident, and if my presence can assure you that, then I’ll be more than happy to be there for you.”

You give him a long stare. Your drilling eyes to his bewitching ones, searching for the truth in the greenish depths, while he stands still, waiting patiently, expecting your verdict silently. It’s as your frown softens, he knows you’ve found what you’ve been looking for in this kind of staring contest.

“Oh Archons, Alhaitham…” You shake your head with a small smile and the man feels relief washing over him. You are no longer mad at him. At least, it seems so. That is definitely good. “We’ve been married for years and it still surprises me how you can be a jerk - affectionately - one moment, and a completely sweet guy another.”

“Maybe just as quick you are switching from fuming to forgiving,” his palms are warm as they slide up your arms, featherly resting on your shoulders. Your smile widens a little and you meet him in the middle when he leans to press his forehead to yours.

“Yeah, yeah… But to your credit you were quick to fix your attitude, and as long as it’s sincere, I am grateful.”

“It is sincere,” he says with emphasis. “You know I am not the one to change my mind lightly.

Or rather realizing when an apology is due.

You hum, content with his answer. Yet, a mischievous glint finds its place in your eyes.

“Even though you are forgiven, I am still complaining to Kaveh about the mean and heartless husband of mine.”

“Of course you are,” he rolls his eyes, but you know it’s playful. He knows it too, and the shift in the mood is apparent, and he is thankful for its course to the positive destination. “I guess it’s deserved.”

“Don’t worry, he won’t be glaring at you murderously. Much.”

Alhaitham only sighs at your giggles. He could care less of what the blond architect would say about him, so he’ll survive some annoyed buzzing from the senior, and if the little exchange which is about to occur makes you happy - he doesn’t mind. Plus it will be good for you to take your mind off of tomorrow.

“I’ll trust you on that,” he finally says, slowly leaning back. You smile, patting the back of his hand still resting on your shoulder in reassurance. With a promise to collect you from your ‘girlish talk’ (you swat his shoulder at that) in a couple of hours, your husband helps you to make a new pot of tea. It’s quite ironic that this one is gonna be emptied while he’s the main focus of the conversation.

Minutes later, when you leave the kitchen with a tray, Alhaitham can faintly hear the knocks on the other end of the house, and the door opening not a minute later, the voice of the man you two have been housing for months coming clear and concerned. Kaveh remained your friend even when he and Alhaitham got in a horrible fight over their beliefs and you were partially the reason why the Haravatat graduate was convinced to let the blonde stay. Though loud, flamboyant and snarky, there is some perks of having him around - even if the architect always complains how he didn’t sign up to be a marriage counselor, he’s never let you or your husband be in a conflict for long (fortunately it happened really rarely), being your shoulder to tear up on or begrudgingly becoming an ear to be talked of by the other man and the foot that would kick Alhaitham into action or the hand that would gently nudge you in the right direction.

Or, just like tonight, simply be ‘your girl’ to chat with.

Alhaitham, as promised, lets you be for a couple of hours, meanwhile busying himself with his book. To outsiders this scene may appear weird and paint the Scribe in an awful light as a husband - but it is just like that with this man. And the strange dynamic the three of you have while staying under one roof: a wife, a husband and their… loquacious canary-like-therapist.

Only when it’s close to the time you usually go to sleep, does he also end up before the door of Kaveh’s temporary room, and firmly knocks three times.

“What?” Unsurprisingly it's the blonde’s voice, and by the tone of it he is pissed. The ash-haired male chooses to ignore him.

“Darling, let’s go to bed,” he calls for you softly.

Alhaitham hears shuffling and muffled curses the architect surely prepared for him and some short, but incomprehensible conversation happening between you two. Not a moment later though, the door opens revealing your face, and your husband can’t help but feel extra weight lifted off his shoulders. No line reappeared between your eyebrows, no pout and no distress is written on your face. Quite the contrary, when your eyes meet, you give him the same warm smile you graced him with back in the kitchen.

“Sure, let’s go. It’s quite late already and we need to wake up early tomorrow,” you hum, exiting the room. Through the gap Alhaitham spots Kaveh sitting over some blueprints with two mugs on the table and a chair placed on the opposite side of the fine piece of furniture. When the architect lifts his eyes to glare at him, the Scribe slams the door closed. To your bedroom you returned with arms linked.

The silence of your shared space is comforting and is only disturbed by your light steps and rustle of changed clothes. The Scribe glances at you every two minutes, still a tiny bit concerned about that animatic exchange you had back in the kitchen.

“You know I will come, right?” The man suddenly asks you, as you’re fluffing the pillows. Your eyes slightly widen for a brief moment, so quickly that he almost misses it, but then they soften again as you chuckle.

“Yes, I know, dear. Sorry I reacted the way I did initially. It seems I really was pent up after all.”

“I could tell. You looked like you could bite my head o- ow!” He gasps when you throw your pillow into his face, which he catches at the last second.

“Oh, shut it, or I might get mad again,” but there is no anger in your eyes, only hardly veiled mischief. He drops your weapon of choice back onto bed and raises his hands in defense.

“Okay, okay, point taken. Any way I can make it up to you?”

At that your eyes strangely glint, and the scholar can’t place his finger on what exactly feels off about it. But it does.

“Actually you can. I’d like you to wake me up when you do, and let me use the shower first.”

And that’s it? Well, odd, but not disturbingly odd. Surely you wouldn’t go as far as to play some pranks on him by mixing something in his shampoo - you are way too intelligent for that. Also not one for revenge.

“Of course. I will wake you when I do so myself, and let you use the bathroom first.”

Even if the mornings are not Alhaitham’s forte, he still opens his eyes disgustingly early, so sleeping for a bit more while you are at your morning routine sounds nice. Not as nice as doing it with you in his arms, but still quite nice.

“Thank you, dear. Now, if you are going to read-”

“Not tonight. You need sleep,” to that you smile warmly, crawling under the blankets, which he is quick to follow. You do not deny his embrace, and willingly scoot closer, extending an arm to put around his waist, as he does the same. Nor you turn away from a kiss he places on your forehead, pecking his chin in response.

“Good night, Alhaitham.”

“Good night, Y/n.”

True to his word, your husband pulls you out of the dreamland just moments later after exiting it himself. Cerulean eyes drink in your sleepy face contorting in displeasure, arms reaching over your head, and body arching in a morning stretch. He can’t help himself, leaning close and pressing a kiss just above the hem of your chemise, relishing the feeling of your heart thumping against his lips. You yawn, reaching a hand into his hair, but your breath hitches, when his mouth is suddenly on your throat, peppering it with soft pecks.

“Mmm… If you are trying to make up for yesterday you are a bit late,” your groggy voice is so adorable to the man. With you he tends to forget how to rationalize things. Yesterday was one of the times when his ‘Alhaitham for anyone else but his wife’ slipped into his interaction with you, the behavior he’s been trying for years to suppress when it comes to you. Now he knows he should’ve acted differently, and regrets his unique way of trying to give you reassurance. If only he-

“Are you overthinking again?”

Your question makes him emerge back to reality. Eyes meet, and his heart skips a beat when you smile at him. Archons, you are beautiful.

“You know I am joking? Yesterday was yesterday, and you are already making it up to me, right?”

Words can’t describe how much he loves you, and at this moment he feels like he’ll never be able to express it fully.

“Right. Shower is all yours. Also,” he leans in again, placing a kiss on the corner of your mouth, “good morning.”

Your smile gets wider and you wrap your arms around his frame to kiss his cheek.

“Morning, Haitham.”

With you gone to the shower, the man buries himself in your pillow, inhaling the lingering scent. Sometimes he thinks he doesn’t deserve you. Your husband is intelligent enough to evaluate his own deeds and behavior, so he knows he is far from perfect to be someone’s partner. Yet, here you are, loving and accepting all his flaws - not without some complaint, but you are trying.

He might come off as arrogant to some people, but in arguments with you, he can tell when it’s his fault and not blame you for giving him a cold shoulder and requesting some space. He might look like he doesn’t care, but he cares for you, for your well-being, for your likes and dislikes, for your opinion, carefully storing all this valuable information in his brain, to show how much you mean to him. He is aware he has a long road ahead of him to get rid of all of his annoying conversing habits, but he is willing to keep trying for you. He seems to not show gratitude to anyone, but he is so grateful that you remain by his side, going as far as telling him you are proud to be his wife.

He wants you to know that it’s mutual.

That being said, Alhaitham is a smart man, but when he himself exits the bathroom after his shower time, his brain is reduced to just one thought.

You are absolutely gorgeous.

His gaze is chained to your pretty fingers, rolling the long, dark green stocking up your left leg. His throat bobs, when the elastic hem of it snaps against your skin, squeezing the flesh of your thigh a little. Then you take the second one, elegantly lifting the other leg and repeating the taunting process, but this time he is here to watch it from the beginning to the very end.

You happily hum, observing your work, and, satisfied, get on your feet, adjusting the band of your panties a little. Archons, you are wearing a matching set of the richest green shade. Lace leaves little to imagination, as his eyes flicker up to your chest, noting the pretty, natural swell of it and the outline of your nipples, and then down, as you turn around and bend to grab the shirt from the bed, demonstrating to him your ass and thighs.

His hand almost reaches out to touch you, to get a hold of the round globe, to sink his lithe fingers in your flesh. After all, your husband is not above earthly pleasures.

But your voice snaps him out of it.

"My love, if you keep standing like this in the middle of the room with just a towel on and no intention to dress, you might be late for breakfast," you chide him not even turning around and throw on the shirt, hiding the bra and some of the lower half, yet still leaving a bit of an appetizing view for an eye.

Alhaitham wills himself to tear the almost burning gaze away from you and redirect it to his own clothes, already prepared and neatly hanging on a chair. You mischievously smile as he takes a step to move past your figure. He's kept alarmingly silent and you are dying to know what reaction he has for your little plan.

The man has just a second to react when you abruptly turn around and stumble into him. Big palms instantly grab your hips to steady you against his chest, and the heart quickens at the feeling of soft lace under his fingertips, peeking from beneath the hem of the shirt he accidentally crumpled in the process. Your hands on his chest are so warm, put out just in time to catch yourself, and Alhaitham finds himself thinking of how would've it felt if your chests collided - maybe the thin material of the only layer of clothes you have on paired with some flimsy bra would not make any difference from direct skin to skin contact?

"Ah, sorry, 'haithy," you sheepishly smile up at him, eyes soft and staring innocently, "Are you alright? I haven't heard you speak ever since you left for the shower…"

Archons, please, don't let his voice betray him.

"I'm," he quickly clears his throat, "alright. Was just about to start dressing."

You hum, pushing onto his pectorals to move away and continue with your own - though slightly changed - routine, but strong fingers flex, keeping you in place by the sheer hold on your hips. You look at him inquiringly, ignoring how the very tips of his thumbs just barely slip under the thin material of your panties to caress your hip bones. It's almost an absentminded action.

"What's with this lingerie?" He finally drops the question swirling on his tongue ever since he first laid his eyes on the tantalizing sight. It's hard to hold back a smirk - you admit you were a bit doubtful if it'd actually grab your husband's attention. Who knew the stoic man was into it…

"Oh, this?" Nonchalantly you tug on the collar of your shirt and Alhaitham sharply inhales upon catching a glimpse of your barely covered breast again. "Do not worry, habibi, it is not to seduce you," he is not that sure about it.

Taking his hands in yours, you pry them off of your body and put them back to his sides, gracing his waist just above the towel with your touch. He shivers.

"I know it's different from what I usually wear, especially to work," you admit, turning around again, to grab the robes of the Akademyia's scholar. "But I really-really loved this one I purchased a couple of weeks ago on that outing with the girls. I feel so beautiful in it," fuck, you are. "And today is a special day. Want to have some confidence, you know?"

And as the rest of your body disappears under the long article of clothing, Alhaitham is finally aware of what this whole thing is about.

It's going to be an agonizingly endless day, where the only thing he can do is watch.

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham x fem!reader #alhaitham #genshin impact fluff

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urprettylittlething · 1 year ago

Text

In The Shadows

Purge Alternate Universe

Yandere - Gojo Satoru x Reader x Geto Suguru

A/N - Okayyyy I've been working on this for like a week and it's the longest I've ever written for one thing, I had a shoulder injury which is mostly healed up now during the week which hindered my progress a little because I originally really wanted this to get out nearer Halloween time, but oh well TT at least its here now right? Lmao, but I hope you guys enjoy it, I tried my best and lowkey kind of hate it, I wished I could've done more or something, but if you have any ideas around this for a possible part 2 let me knoww, although no promises ;) Consider this a massive thank you story, I now have over 100 followers and the likes and reblogs and comments, you guys, I'm crying, I love you all so much <333333 I love interacting with you guys and your comments on my stories or in my inbox <3333 you all make my day ilysm <3 :( AND IM SORRY I COULDNT HELP IT, they're kind of really mean so its more harsh yandere than the soft you all wanted :( I couldn't help myself its a purge AU TT, but I promise ill make something softer in the future <33 sorry this is so long omfg, but let me know your thoughts pretty please <3 and if you actually read all of this ily

summary - Another purge night is here and you think your safe and sound, but let your guard down and you'll find yourself bound.

warnings - purge, mentions of 'off screen' murder, actual 'off screen' murder, kind of gore but reader doesn't see it, blood, rope, reader gets tied up, gags?, tape over readers mouth, they're actually kind of really mean lol, especially Geto, descriptions of panic, anxiety, overthinking, stalker situation kind of, swearing, crying, brief hair pulling, if there's any more let me know ml <3

genre - Oneshot

wc - 7.2k

~spelling and grammar fixed already~

Edit - the top photo 6/11/23

The tip tapping of fingers on keys echoed around the silent room. The occasional footfalls of people around her walking up and down. Picking up books to further aid their studying would slip past the music playing in her ears when they were loud enough.

Every time she would hear someone being a little too loud for the library they were in she would glance up and shoot a half-hearted glare their way.

They’d never see her but it was the thought that counted. A barely audible sigh escapes her as she brings a hand up to massage her cold fingertips into the throbbing skin at her temple.

Nervous nibbling was occupying her teeth and lips, chewing away the flesh and creating tender spots her tongue would soon soothe.

She’d been staring at the same empty document for two hours now. No more than two sentences she was able to come up with before she’d erase them in a fit of frustration.

Abandoned textbooks lay closed behind her laptop, she’d deemed them no use around thirty minutes in, but she couldn't bring herself to get up and search for better ones.

She was antsy, not able to focus on her assignment due in a week's time. Her brain was all fogged up, too many thoughts going through her mind and yet she's not able to focus on a single one.

The purge was tonight. March 21st. And it was currently 1pm.

Why did she even bother to come to the library in the first place? Was she hoping to distract herself even just a little bit before she had to hunker herself down in her dorm for twelve hours?

Maybe. Yes.

Was it working? Absolutely not.

She was too skittish. Overthinking everything that had the potential of happening later and things that have previously happened.

‘Someone's not going to come and try to kill me just because I forgot to return their pen that one time, right?’

The amusing, albeit a little dark, thought did make the corner of her lips twitch just the smallest amount.

Taking off her headphones after stopping her music, she closes down her laptop and starts to move it into her bag.

She spares a quick glance around the few tables next to hers as she stands with the library's books in her arms. Her eyes locked with a man sitting roughly two tables down. Slumped back in his seat.

Gojo Satoru. Bright white and fluffy hair paired with a set of dazzling blue eyes. The ones currently peeking over the tops of his round shades that had slid down his nose as he tucked his head down slightly.

Sitting in front of him and abstracting her view of Gojo only slightly is who she assumed was Geto Suguru. Two peas in a pod and never seen without the other. The long black and silky strands of hair tied up in a half up bun was a giveaway to who he was as well.

Both of them were originally from Tokyo, Japan. Coming over to America over five years ago. Or at least that's what she’s heard from around the place, not knowing them personally. They were the most popular boys in school when she had joined a little over a year ago and they still held the title strong.

She doesn’t think she's ever really interacted with them. At Least not on any kind of personal level. Sure, maybe from a few friends of friends or passing each other in the hallway and being polite to her upperclassmen, but nothing all that memorable.

Which is why this prolonged eye contact is sending a very noticeable shiver down her spine. The smallest twitch of a smirk on his face and she was breaking eye contact, gulping down the pooled saliva in her mouth as she turned around and hastily made her way in between the towering bookshelves.

Leaving the library after stacking the books she’d previously taken back on the shelves, she hastily makes her way down the long corridors. Keeping her head down, her hands clutched tight on the strap of her bag. She passes very few people in the hallway.

Even after pushing through the doors and trekking her way to the dorms at the end of the path, there were very few people loitering around outside. Some of the people she passed looked like they could be stoned, not that she could really blame them. Some looked a little too relaxed and happy and some were just trying to get to their destination as quickly as possible. Like her.

As the doors came into view, and then the stairs, she slowly began to relax, her fast pace lessening up. Successfully getting to the safest place she could for when the purge would start.

It was also a massive relief that her two good friends would be staying with her during the twelve hours of horror. Last time she was by herself there had been multiple scares throughout the night. Nothing too big but something she didn’t think she could handle alone again.

Reaching her door on the third floor she fiddles with her keys for a few seconds before her door clicks open and she pushes her way inside. Closing the door and locking it again for good measure.

It was 1:43 pm.

A few minutes after she had arrived back at her dorm did she realize she still needed to pick up some food items. Being a broke student meant she had essentially nothing in her cupboards or her fridge. And if she was ‘hosting for the purge’ this year, it meant she had to stock up at least a little bit.

‘Imagine trying to hide from a killer and your stomach growls, I think I would just die on the spot.’ She thinks, the smallest smile gracing her face. Humour is usually her way to cope in situations like these. It’s either that or panicking and she’d rather try to save that for the main event.

With a heavy sigh and hesitation weighing her limbs down, she slowly puts her shoes and jacket back on. She can make this quick. In and out. Easy peasy.

With a quick jump while shaking her limbs out to get rid of her last minute hesitation, she quickly opens her door and steps out before shutting it behind her. No going back now. Locking the door behind her, she starts making her way back down the stairs and out the doors, walking in the direction of the food store.

Her nerves were still playing up though, eyes darting this way and that as if trying to find a reason for her to panic. ‘It’s okay, the purge hasn’t started yet, all those things are still illegal.’ Is what she keeps telling herself while taking a deep breath. But the fact they won’t be in a few hours was still cause for some panic.

Arriving at the store, she wizzes around, collecting any good looking snack and throwing it in her basket before hastily paying and leaving. The heavy plastic carrier bag hanging from her fingers gave her reason to think she went a bit overboard.

Her quickened steps and accelerated breathing were all she could hear for a while. Her walk back to her dorm was supposed to be a quiet one, less and less people were loitering around meaning less and less noises to distract her.

Especially from the new set of footsteps that have appeared behind her.

As soon as her mind clocked the extra set of footsteps there, it went into overdrive. ‘Who is that? Are they following me? No, you're being delusional, they're just trying to get back home. But are they? They just appeared out of nowhere. Are they going to try and kidnap me? Rape me? Stuff me in a van? Drag me down a dark alleyway and murder me?’

Her mind was racing, steps quickening and breathing silenced under the new threat. ‘Oh god, what if they’re stalking me? Waiting until the purge starts to come and slaughter me? They’re going to kill me. They’re going to kill me. What should I do? What should I do? What should I do?’

And then they were gone.

It barely registered in her mind that the fast paced footsteps from behind her had vanished. A sharp breath escaped her before her head whipped around on a desperate whim. No one. Not a soul on the path behind her.

Her shoulders sank with relief and a watery laugh broke free from her trembling lips. ‘I’m losing my mind.’ She thought. Even though that feeling in her gut had faded, it never fully disappeared. Her racing heart never slowed and neither did her footsteps.

Y/n hurried back to her dorm, almost running through the doors and up the stairs to fumble with her keys and quickly burst in. Double checking she locked the door behind her, and then checking every other lock on her third story apartment. Only when she had made sure they were all secure could she finally relax.

Her body shivering and hands shaking from the after effects of adrenaline. Her breathing is still a little shaky as she pulls a bunch of pillows and blankets into her tiny living room. Pushing her chair and sofa away to make more space as she lays everything out as neat as she could, making the floor a comfy space for her and her two friends to crash for the purge.

She empties the snacks from out of the plastic bag and piles them in a nice little corner near the TV. A small stack of movies there for when they’re all waiting for the purge to start. Some cards in a pack were also placed there.

The three of them are wanting to be as quiet as possible while the purge is going on. Everything locked, curtains drawn, lights off, TV with no volume and only subtitles, quiet games to play in case they got bored, etc.

They weren’t taking any chances. It was doubtful anything would happen, since nothing really ever did in the dorms. No student here would go as far as murdering somebody, everyone mostly stayed inside, not wanting to risk anything. She only knew of a few people that have snuck out before to rob a few stores, or do some petty revenge like smashing someone's car without getting into trouble.

But overall, it was best to remain quiet. They didn’t want to get murdered because the TV was turned up too loudly and attracted some wrong attention.

It was 5:15 pm.

This is the time her friends arrived. Knocking some made up code on the slab of wood before messaging just for good measure that it was really them outside.

After unlocking the door and letting her two good friends inside her dorm she swiftly closes and locks it again. Relieved greetings transpire as well as nervous whispers about the purge and some small gossip of who they think would actually go out this year and who are likely to stay inside.

The three of them start to make their way around her dorm, closing all the curtains and double checking the locks on all the windows and doors. Especially the balcony and front door.

After they’ve secured the apartment, they turn off all the necessary lights, flicking on a few electrical lanterns and setting them up around the living room, but away from the windows. They’ve left one lantern in the bathroom and one in her bedroom, both turned off, just in case of emergencies.

The three of them settle in a spread out pile on the blankets she put down in the living room. Some snacks are passed around already and a movie is slotted into the TV, playing as background noise mostly while they talk.

Erica, a sassy but kind of dumb girl, with choppy shoulder length hair that had been bleached and dyed a light green. She's donned in a crop top and sweatpants, comfy.

Don, a friendly giant, very kind in nature but also a little muscly. He has short black hair and a sculpted jawline. He also came in sweatpants and a baggy white T-shirt, also comfy.

Her two very good, and only, friends here. They’re in a few of her classes and all regularly hang out together.

“So,” Erica begins after her mouthful of powdered donut. “Who do you think is going to actually purge tonight? Like, actually actually. My moneys on them two hotties in my class.” She finishes, wiggling her eyebrows..

Don hums around his half empty soda can. “Yeah, honestly I wouldn't be surprised if they did.”

Y/n pipes up, “Wait who?” sitting up against the sofa behind her, getting comfy like she's about to hear the gossip of a lifetime.

“Oh, Em, G! You haven’t heard of it? You’ve seriously been, like, living under a rock or something.” Erica says jokingly. Picking apart pieces of her donut and eating them.

Don perks up too. “Really? You haven't?” Y/n shakes her head in denial as Don shrugs. “I get it, it’s mostly stayed in our class, hasn’t spread much further than that.” He says before crawling forward and rummaging around for more snacks.

“So get a load of this right!” Erica sits up too after finishing her donut. Waving her hands excitedly as she tells her latest gossip. “You know them two really hot upperclassmen right?” She draws out her ‘really’ and waits patiently at the end of her sentence for the other girl's confirmation.

When she nods in slight confusion, Erica continues, “There were some major rumours in class that the two of them were late this one day because they were beating someone up. And I don't mean like a few slaps or hair pulling, I mean punches. You know?”

Y/n nods again, this time with furrowed brows and Erica continues, “At first, I didn’t believe it, obviously. But then, the two of them came into class and I swear there were blood stains on their clothes. Blood stains! Not to mention all the plasters and bandages all over their hands! I just had to believe it then! Wouldn’t you?”

After the end of her long rant she slumps back against the front of the sofa and mumbles incoherently to herself shaking her head while pouting.

Don, who had been listening silently, pipes up, “It was true, I was actually there for once.”

Y/n’s eyebrows raise in disbelief at what she had just heard. Fighting, here? She couldn’t help but to doubt it, if only just a little. Stuff like that has never happened here. Or at least while she had been here. It was just unheard of.

And for an attack so vicious to result in blood being drawn, then there must have been somewhat of a good reason for it. That was the conclusion she came to.

“I mean, there had to have been a good reason for it.” Y/n says, “They’re pretty nice people aren't they? It is Gojo and Geto were talking about here, right? They’re really popular here too.” Her eyes darted between her two friends, looking for more answers on this unexpected juicy gossip.

Erica sighs wistfully, “No, it got shut down pretty quick, which I guess is why so little people have heard about it. God, would I pay to see them fight though. Their muscles must have looked amazing.”

They stop talking about it after that, Don getting distracted by the snacks and whining about how she didn’t get his favourite. Erica smacking him with a few pillows and complaining how he’s getting in the way of her movie she was barely even watching.

Their playful banter did little to distract from her inner turmoil. A small shiver went down her spine again. The memory from earlier in the library resurfacing in her mind. Gojo staring her down, the creepy walk back from the shops and now learning the two had at the very least helped in injuring someone.

It could just be because it was purge day, but everything was beginning to creep her out and she was overthinking again. ‘What if he wants to attack me next? What if all of those things were connected and someone really was following me home? What if he wants to kill me? What if both of them want to kill me? Have I ever done anything to offend them? I haven’t, have I?’ She knew these were far fetched and ridiculous, but she couldn’t help but think of them anyway.

Her spiralling thoughts were halted when a stray pillow smacked her in the face. “Oops, haha, sorry.” Erica sheepishly apologized, bringing her hand up to smooth down Y/n’s ruffled hair. Don was laughing in the background.

Y/n was stunned for a few seconds before replying, “Oh, don’t worry. How about we put something else on? This movie is kind of boring.” crawling across the piles of pillows and blankets to reach the stack of movies.

This caught the other two’s attention, eagerly rushing to the stack as well to try and get first pick. Arguing for a few more minutes before settling on a movie they all loved. Snuggling back into their original positions.

This was how the next few hours went before the announcement appeared.

It was 6:59 pm.

At exactly 7 on the dot, the TV went black before turning blue, the government announcing the commencement of the purge. Big bold letters and ‘Emergency Broadcast System’ and ‘This is not a test’ were displayed on the screen.

They were all quiet as it played out. The mood quickly turned sombre.

“Weapons of class 4 and lower have been authorized for use during the Purge. All other weapons are restricted.”

Don gulped.

“Government officials of ranking 10 have been granted immunity from the Purge and shall not be harmed.”

Erica huffed.

“Commencing at the siren, any and all crime, including murder, will be legal for 12 continuous hours.”

Y/n shivered.

“Police, fire, and emergency medical services will be unavailable until tomorrow morning at 7 am when The Purge concludes.”

She released a shaky breath. The announcement ends with “...A nation reborn.” before stopping. The screen turned black again.

No one moves or says anything. Each of them were frozen in an array of emotions. Fear being the most prominent.

The silence stretched on for minutes. Eerie in its wake, not even being able to hear other people in their dorm rooms like she normally would.

Eventually, after releasing another shaky breath and rearranging herself with trembling limbs, they all snap back into the present.

Don coughs and Erica shuffles awkwardly.

“Cards, anyone?” Y/n meekly speaks up. The other two nod as they sit in a small circle.

It was 7:36 pm.

This was when the first explosion of some kind was heard by them. Each of them froze in the middle of playing their mostly silent game of cards. The noise was distant, but the impact remained.

A scream from a few doors down echoed in the silent space.

They waited with baited breath for any follow up, but when nothing happened, they slowly relaxed. Each of them assumed it was the explosion that must have scared someone. Sometimes it’s better to think of the positive, rather than what that scream could have been for.

A few minutes later a siren bellows in the distance, a few car alarms wail.

Nothing too bad, but knowing that it could mean someone was being murdered out there didn’t give them any ease.

It was 8:02 pm.

This is when the banging starts. Y/n thinks it could be a few doors down again. Erica thinks it’s below them and Don thinks it’s above them.

Wherever it was, it was concerning.

Erica releases a small nervous chuckle. “Maybe someone is just having a good time?” A fake smile plastered on her face to try and mask her worry. Even she didn’t believe her little theory. Not during a time like this, during The Purge.

It was a few minutes later, after they had quietly resumed their game, that footsteps were heard.

Clacking down the hallway.

1, 2.

They were walking at a leisurely pace. Taking their time. Strolling down the hallway and getting closer and closer.

All three of them looked towards the door, as if someone were to burst in at any moment.

The footsteps slow before coming to a stop. Right outside her door.

The three of them hold their breath, bodies flinching when a light knock rings out into the open space.

Complete silence.

Another knock.

None of them had even noticed the earlier noises had stopped, too focused on the potential threat now right outside the door. Seemingly wanting someone to open up.

Three pairs of eyes dart between each other. Silent questions trying to push their way out without being heard. A few panicked half shrugs and furrowed brows with downturned lips later, another knock rings out.

This time it was a little louder.

Barely audible whisperings of ‘you go’, ‘no you’, ‘fuck no’, ‘who even is it?’ cut through the silence. No one wanted to ask the question. To even speak a hint of it lest it result in it coming true.

Eventually after a solid minute of panicked, almost silent, squabbling later. A frustrated and frightened Erica pushed herself up. Taking a very obvious deep breath. Eyes closed and silently mumbling to herself before taking a few steps over to the front door.

She tried to be as quiet as she could but each step sounded like it weighed a ton. Every creek and every wobble made to sound the loudest.

Very quietly bracing her hands upon the door, she leant up on her tiptoes. Peeking into the peephole positioned in the centre of the door.

The two left in the pile of blankets still. Not wanting to even breathe in fear of disturbing whatever was happening in front of them.

A sudden screech of pure panic and fear tore from Erica’s throat. Flailing before landing with a harsh thud on the floor beneath her. Scrambling backwards on her hands and feet, keeping her eyes on the door the entire time.

The two startle and immediately jump up, laboured breathing hindering their lungs from the sudden scare.

“What the fuck? Erica what happened? What was that?” Don frantically whispered. His eyes were also locked on the door.

Y/n also whispered to her, “Who was that? Erica?” her eyes locked onto her friend, not able to bring herself to look at the door yet.

“It was.. Oh god.. The peep..” Erica wheezed out. The fright took too much out of her with her frantic gasps for air.

A sudden bang echoed into the room. A few more followed before they all realized it was coming from the front door.

Erica screeched and threw herself back into a standing position, rushing for the kitchen and grabbing any sharp knife her eyes first laid on.

Don stood frozen in fear. Not able to move or barely breathe from the looks of it.

Y/n wasn’t any better herself. Downright terrified. This was her dorm. Her dorm. Which means whoever was outside, was looking for her.

The banging persisted, the person on the other side seemingly determined to get in. This proved correct when the handle started turning whichever way it could.

She didn’t even realize, terror clouding her senses because when she looked back to her two friends, Don had collapsed into himself, wheezing with little air entering his lungs amidst his panic. Erica was cornered in the kitchen, sobbing, tears flooding her cheeks and ruining her mascara she had in place.

The persistent banging stopped for a second. The faint sound of another pair of footsteps approached from the hallway outside. Muffled talking pursued but it was hard to make anything out, between her pounding heart, Erica’s sobs and the slab of wood in the way, didn’t make for easy hearing.

For Y/n, it seemed there was one second of complete silence. No sobbing, no voices, no distant alarms or explosions, no racing heart, no wheezing lungs. Before chaos sprung onto them.

Suddenly the people outside, because there was another person now, resumed banging on the door. But it didn’t seem like they were ‘just knocking’ anymore. No.

They were trying to break the door down.

She could see it from the way the door groaned and creaked under the relentless kicking. She couldn't quite tell if they were using their feet, or an object, or whatever.

All that mattered was that they were trying to get in. And they were going to succeed.

“Move! Hide! We need to hide!” She whisper-yelled. Rushing to Don and tugging on his arm to try and get him to move. He stared at her for a few seconds before his brain caught up, registering what was happening around him. The real danger he was in right now.

“Hide.. Oh god..” He panted, sprinting for the bathroom, the first place his eyes had landed on.

With Don now searching for a place to hide, she ran her way to Erica. Still trying to be as quiet as she could, in the little hopes that they would think she wasn’t here.

“Erica, we need to hide! They’re getting in!” She frantically whispered to her hyperventilating friend. Trying to shake her shoulders, even resorting to lightly slapping her face to try and get her attention. She was desperate.

“Please!” The sound of splintering caught both of their attention. Heads whipping towards the door starting to cave. She wasn’t all that surprised, that slab of wood was a shitty excuse for a door anyway.

Erica suddenly sprung up and dove for the piles of blankets in the living room. Trying to bury herself amongst them, taking the knife with her.

And now that all her friends had been taken care of, she ran for her bedroom. Trying her best not to stumble and fall in the dark hallway.

As soon as her door came into sight, she gently opened it, gunning for her wardrobe tucked into the corner of the room. Not even looking towards the turned off lantern, she didn’t need them knowing her hiding spot from something so obvious.

It was already messy anyway, so in her frazzled brain she didn’t bother caring where she tossed piles of clothes and shoes in her room.. They’d hopefully think it was like that in the first place.

After quickly clearing a space big enough for her to curl into, she did just that. Situating herself just right, back pressed against the side of the wardrobe, knees tucked to her chest and pressed against the boxes in front of her. She was sitting on old shirts she hadn’t seen for months.

Hearing the door breaking even further, she grabbed any clothes within her reach and threw them over herself. Shutting the door when she was mostly covered, she could have sworn she could hear laughter coming from the hallway.

A loud crash and splintering tore through the air. She knew it was her front door. And now they were inside.

Her hands slowly went up to cup around her mouth, trying to muffle her breathing as much as she could. Her body froze. Even when she already began to feel muscle cramps settling in, she dared not move. She forced herself to breathe slowly. Every inhale a struggle along with a reminder that she was still alive at this very moment. Even if she was convinced she wouldn’t be for much longer.

The thought brought tears to her eyes. The original shock wears from her body and settles into something akin to despair.

Her throat started clamping up, muscles seizing and throbbing with the need to cry.

It was the thudding of footsteps that shook her out of it. Snapping her half way back into a nightmarish reality.

She gulped. Closing her eyes and straining her ears for any information they were willing to receive.

Just as she thought. Two pairs of footsteps.

With every thud of a shoe or a spike in their muffled talking, her body would tremble.

It remained like this for a few more minutes. The footsteps or talking occasionally pausing.

It was during one of these silences, where a different sound was heard. She couldn’t identify the exact sounds, just ones of commotion. They were still all muffled. And then she heard muffled yelling.

It sounded so dulled, between the walls and layers of wood and clothes, she could barely make out anything, her ears straining for any hint as to what was happening. Being left in the dark like this, literally and figuratively, was terrifying her.

And then this horrible, awful noise carried its way between the cracks in the wardrobe. Crunching. Cracking. Stomps.

That muffled yelling from before kept getting cut off. Eventually dwindling down into a barely audible groan. Those thuds never seemed to stop either. Never ending, crunching, cracking, and now wet thuds.

Her brain was trying its hardest to process, to catch up with the information that it has been provided with.

More footsteps, only one pair, accompanied with muffled laughter. And a more distinct sound traveling through the air.

A scream.

Even more laughter, hurried footsteps and pleas of ‘no’, ‘please’, ‘don’ts’.

It was now, with the wet stomps still in the background, her screeching friend, that eager laugh, that her brain had finally caught up.

She was going to be sick.

They’re hurting them. Killing them.

Her friends.

Her body moved out of its own violation. Shaky hands and feet kicking and pushing their way out of the pile of clothes. Wardrobe door swinging open with a creak.

She collapsed out of it. Slumped on the floor, dry heaving. Her lungs not seeming to take enough air in but yet holding in too much. She couldn’t function. Fear overwhelmed every part of her. As well as grief.

Her ears were ringing and she was left gasping, drool dripping onto the hard floor beneath her as a result of her attempted vomiting. Eyes wide open, blurry when she tapped back into her mind.

Tears, clouding her vision and dripping audibly on the floorboards below her.

In the distance she could hear muffled talking. Two men, she could make out more clearly. Not only that, but squelching, wet, gooey noises seemed to mingle in the air. Gurgling was the next before silence.

A minute passed, maybe two before the footsteps started up again. Those goddamn footsteps.

1.. 2.

But they were slower than before. Steady. Taking their time.

And getting closer.

Her instincts kick in, blinking profusely to try and clear her eyes from the tears, looking up and darting around before landing on the space under her bed.

She wouldn’t have enough time to fix her spot back in the wardrobe. She couldn’t run past them, not even in her best state which she certainly wasn’t in right now. She had considered her bedroom window as an option, but it was locked, which would take time to open. Not even mentioning the fact she was on the third floor, so jumping out would break at least something important. They would be quick to notice as well, and if they came for her, it was likely they would decide to chase her down.

Under her bed seemed to be her best option at the moment, and she was running out of time. Scrambling as quietly as she could, she slid herself directly under her bed, trying to center herself in the middle of it, tucking herself into a tight ball.

The footsteps stopped right outside her bedroom door, she had enough sense to shut it on her way in, thank god. But that clearly wouldn’t be enough to stop them.

Almost as if the person was teasing her, they slowly clicked the door open. The distinct creak she had grown accustomed to over the months making itself known.

Her muscles are tense, tightening in the presence of her predators.

In the dark space from under her bed and in her room, it was obvious when the light from inside the hallway started spilling in the more the door got pushed open. In the vague depths of her mind it registered that they must’ve either turned the hall lights on, had taken one of her lanterns, or were carrying one of their own.

Her lungs were burning with the effort to keep her body running with the little air she was allowing them to have, all for the sake of trying to keep quiet.

It was all too silent once again, only for a second or two before the second pair of footsteps came towards her. A lot more hasty compared to the other ones.

Her breath silently hitched, the new person pushed their way into the room, stepping past their company before a thunk was heard. The sound forced her body to startle, jolting her muscles and kick starting her trembling again. An uncontrollable reaction to the fear she was under, the unrelenting motions causing a deep ache in her ribs.

The sound of rustling was now heard. It seemed they were looking for something. ‘They’re going to kill me. They’re digging around for a weapon to stab me with, to bash my head in, to murder me like they did my friends. I’m dead. I’m dead, I’mdeadI’mdeadI’mdead-’

Her racing thoughts consuming her fear riddled mind failed in picking up the sound of the other pair of footsteps slowly creeping round to the end of her bed.

The person paused, silently crouching down low before a pair of hands reached under.

The sudden tight grip on her ankles followed up by the sudden pull had her screeching. Pure terror flooding her veins. She had been yanked out from under her bed, lying sprawled on the floor and gazing up at the towering man stationed above her.

Her lungs burned, seizing up before a sickening scream escaped her. Fuelled by genuine, unrestrained horror.

They had found her.

One of her lanterns they had brought in illuminated his face in a haunting light. The darkened shadows stretching and contorting behind him to create the most grim image for her mind to paint. Not that it was far off.

A foot standing on either side of her hips, straddling her if it wasn’t for his standing position. Hands nestled comfortably back in his trouser pockets now they had done the job of retrieving her. A comfortable looking long-sleeved shirt adorned his figure. Dark splatters starting from the bottom of his shoes and creeping their way up his legs, tapering off into a few spots that painted one of his cheeks.

An easy smile softly ingrained on his face, followed by gentle looking eyes peering down at her if it wasn’t for the malicious spiral she found herself paralyzed in. Dark locks of hair extended down his back, past where she could see from her position, with the top layers sectioned off and tied back into a bun.

His mouth opened and he spoke. “Well, well. Look what I’ve caught for us Satoru.”

Satoru. The other man must be Satoru Gojo, and this was Suguru. Suguru Geto. The most popular guys she knew, the supposedly kindest. And then staring in the library, the walk back from the shops, the gossip her most likely dead friend had told her.

Her body suddenly felt like it was pumped full of adrenaline. Pushing herself up as fast as she could, using the bed as support all the while stumbling over her numb riddled legs. She took off, running towards the open door she so desperately wanted to pass through.

A sudden arm snatched her from around her waist and she screeched. Pure instinct driving her at this point as she scratched and kicked and flailed in his, Satoru Gojo’s, hold.

The sound of something dropping before his other arm came round, collecting both her wrists in one hand of his. His grip tightened the more she fought. Her body pressed tight against his, her back to his front. His head situated itself on her shoulder, tucking over and pressing his cheek to hers even while she cried and panted and kicked.

She could feel his grin pressing against the side of her face. “Such a pretty little thing we have here. Can’t let her get away so easily now, can we? Not after all the trouble we’ve gone through.” The last part practically whispered into her ear as she turned her face as far away as possible from him.

A little laugh boasted out from Geto. “Of course not.” He strolled over to them, bending down to pick up what Gojo had dropped in order to restrain her.

Rope.

Fucking rope.

The moment her eyes zoned in and processed what Geto was unravelling in his hands she tried to fight back even harder. Eyes flooding with tears that spilled down her cheeks. Short mumblings of ‘no’ being repeated over and over while becoming louder until she was yelling.

“Please don’t do this! Let me go! Please, please.. Stop!” She shrieked while sobbing, convinced they were going to kill her or torture her or something horrible like that.

Gojo walked the two of them to the edge of her bed before forcefully pushing her down, manhandling her onto her front and bending her arms to rest pressing against her back.

She sobbed into her ruffled sheets as she felt Geto fastening the rope tight around her wrists, the rough material digging into and pinching the sensitive skin. Raw and red marks already forming amidst her struggle.

Her legs still hung off the bed, trying their best to kick and hopefully injure one or both of them, but she knew it was a losing battle. None of her landing blows made them falter in any way.

When her wrists were successfully restrained Geto kept them pressed to the small of her back while Gojo let go and reached down to grab her ankles. Pulling them up and bending her legs at the knees while they both worked in finishing the task of tying her up.

When they finally stepped back to admire the work they’d successfully done, Y/n deflated. Tears soaking into her bed in which she rested on top of. Her lungs still burned, having never stopped. The hogtied position she had been forced into leaving her nothing to work with in terms of escaping. Not that she could think clearly anyway. The distress she was under proved too much.

“Oh, Shh Sh Sh… There, there, sweet thing. Settle down for us now. We aren’t going to kill you.” Cooed, who she could only guess right now was Gojo.

Geto reached forward from his position of kneeling on the bed, gentle soothing pets stroking her hair. Her sobbing tapering off into hiccupped breathing even while flinching with every touch. “There you go, good girl. See that wasn’t so hard now, was it?”

He pulled away from her, stepping down off the bed and heading towards the previously discarded bag on the floor Y/n hadn’t noticed before..

Y/n slowly turned her head round, no longer pressed into her sheets. Her eyes were red and bloodshot, swollen from all the crying she’d been doing. Little hiccups and groans left her while her lungs tried to recover. She’d given up struggling right now, it had done nothing but cause her pain as the rope dug and squeezed the skin of her wrists and ankles.

Gojo piped up from behind her, only now feeling the heat from his legs pressing into hers causing her to flinch. “You know, this would’ve gone a whole lot easier if you had just let us in sweetheart.” She could practically hear the smug smile in his voice. “Look at where you are now, tied up all pretty for us. Ripe for the taking.” He pressed closer to her at that, voice practically dripping with need.

She whined in fear and started squirming at his words. Panic flooding her senses again for just a second before a sharp tug to her hair had her yelping, halting her movements.

“I thought I told you to quit that.” Geto was back to kneeling on the bed in front of her, his hand gripping tight onto her hair, eyes narrowed.

Her bottom lip trembled, breaths picking up with every second he glared down at her.

“Don’t be so mean, Sugu.” Gojo said, a teasing lilt in his voice.

Geto glanced back at him before humming and letting go of his harsh grip, her scalp burning in turn. “I suppose you’re right. She’ll have plenty of time to learn when we take her back home.”

Gojo hummed and she felt him leaning away from her, hearing him crouch down and fiddle with something from the bag as well.

“Back home?..” She stuttered, voice hoarse and throat dry.

Geto looked back down at her, amusement painting his face. “Yes. Home.”

“Where..” She started, face formed in a twist of concern and confusion. “Please.. I.. Just let me go. I won’t- I won’t tell anyone, I’ll- I’ll leave you alone, I’ll do anything, please..” She gasped out, tears gathered freshly in her eyes again, voice cracking every few seconds.

An amused eyebrow raised with the hint of a smirk at the corner of his mouth was all she got as a response.

Gojo had come back, reaching round and fastening a strip of duct tape around her mouth in a sudden flurry of movement. Giving her no time to process what he had done until after he had done it.

She cried out, the sound muffled thanks to the tape, worried eyes darting around in panic as she tried squirming again for the third time.

Gojo pressed up behind her once again. “You’re not going anywhere, sweet pea! You’re ours now. We’ve had you picked out for a long time now.” The joy in his voice didn’t fail to put her on edge, his words doing their part in helping the tears gathered in her waterline to finally spill down her cheeks. Wetting the tape situated over her lips.

“He’s right.” Geto replied. Bringing one of his hands up to show what he had collected from the bag a few moments ago. The mobile phone in his hands glowed brightly in the dark room, the lamp from before having been moved, the light now dim.

“We’ll bring you back with us soon enough, but we still have a few more hours to kill before that. And why waste them.” Gojo said, the grin in his voice unsettling her, keeping her frozen in fear.

An easy smile pulled at Geto’s cheeks at that, head tilting to the side to gaze down at their pretty prey.

“Well what are you waiting for then, Satoru?”

A pause. Smile pulling into a predatory grin.

“Have at it.”

#geto x reader #gojo x reader #geto suguru #gojo saturo #jujutsu kaisen x reader #yandere geto #yandere geto suguru #yandere gojo #yandere gojo satoru #yandere gojo x reader #yandere geto x reader

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justwinginglife · 4 months ago

Note

I've been deepdiving the hoshina tag and you are definitely one of my favourites to read from with the way you portray him 😭😭😭 so I'm wondering how it'd be with him and a reader that's always portrayed as the elegant and forward type... (kind of like shinobu kocho? if you're familiar with her) and on a rough mission he finds her like... heavily injured and he's thinking that it's the first time he's seen her so different from how she usually acts

this is my first time requesting ever.... so if there's some kind or etiquette I'm missing please don't hesitate to tell...........

THANK YOU SO MUCH! This means a lot to me! And, my dude, I just portray what I think of him- that he's the biggest freaking green flag EVER lol. And don't even worry about requesting etiquette, I just joined tumblr a couple weeks ago so you're totally fine, I wouldn't even know either. I'm just glad I could be your first request! Hope I do it justice, thanks again for your support. Also sorry for the wait. Also there were so many different ways I could've gone with this prompt so I hope the one I chose turns out okay.

Honest

There was always a line out the door of officers looking to train with you and today was no different.

Besides the fact that your technique was utterly flawless and you made combat look as graceful as ballet, you were also just stunningly gorgeous. Any man would die just to get a glimpse of you, let alone spar with you. Taking a punch to the face or a kick to the abdomen was an honor if it was from you.

And you were always the same with every man, you never showed any favoritism. You'd give them the same small smile, giving your honest advice when asked, but nothing more than that. You never even blinked at someone longer than you usually did with anyone else.

But even though it seemed like no one had caught (or could catch) your particular attention, there was in fact one man that you had to actively try to subdue your feelings for. You were thankful that no one had noticed that every time a certain Vice Captain walked into the room, your eyes always somehow wandered in the opposite direction of him. And when you'd hear him laugh or even just give out orders, your teeth would clench together to keep from smiling at his voice.

You weren't one to give away parts of yourself easily, having lost all of your family, but one day you'd suddenly found that it was much harder for you to not want to just give everything to him. Especially when you had realized that he was into you too. No matter where you were on campus, he'd make it his mission to find you, to be near you. He'd tell you his best jokes, trying to get you to crack more than just your usual small smile. He'd fight all out with you during training sessions, trying to get you to break a sweat for once, claiming that it did something to him watching you all worked up. It had become quite the strain on you, trying to treat him the same as everyone else when you were dying to just push him up against a wall and kiss him. You'd settle for even just holding his hand or brushing your shoulder up against his. But this wasn't like you- to want such immature, naive things.

You were someone who was wanted, you did not want. You were someone who was needed, you did not need. In fact, you were so hesitant to rely on anything, that if you could've figured out a way to live without oxygen you would've so as to not be indebted to the air filling your lungs.

Your skill and your independence were your swords and you wielded them with grace, distancing yourself from the crowds, but making yourself into a pretty show for them to watch. You were fine if they watched you, as long as that was all that they did. You couldn't imagine someone actually courting you, touching you, loving you.

But you did imagine Hoshina- it was more often than you'd like to admit and it irked you. You thought about just flat out ignoring him, turning down his requests to spar with you. But then he'd be different than everyone else. He'd be someone who spurred enough emotion in you to warrant unnatural behavior. And you refused to give in to emotion, especially emotion so childish and needy as something like love.

So you spent the day the way you always did, giving every officer a proper amount of time to train with you, and ending each session with a curt smile and a nod, gesturing for the next combatant to approach.

But then the alarm went off, signaling a kaiju attack. You thought you'd handle this the way you always did, no mess, no fuss, just efficient and effortless. But this was no ordinary kaiju and tonight was no ordinary night.

You had let all the lower ranking officers handle yoju duty and you had gone straight for the daikaiju. That was not abnormal behavior, you were always confident in your skills and they always served you well. But not tonight.

Tonight, you were humbled in the most brutal way possible.

Your fight had drawn you away from the rest of the squad, and now you were glad it had because you were ashamed to be in such a sorry, gruesome state. You had sustained heavy damage and for the first time in your life, you genuinely considered you might die here.

You thought of all the friends and family that you'd lost to war, kaiju, sickness. You wondered if you were ready to join them. It would be easier to let go.

"But I'm not done yet... I haven't..." You spit up blood, and shakily rise to your feet, groaning at the effort. I haven't even told him how I felt yet, damnit, you think to yourself, unable to speak the words aloud. Without meaning to, you being to cry. You don't have a free hand to wipe the tears away, as one clutches your dripping abdomen trying to stop the flow of blood, and one clings to your gun, aching as you attempt to raise it again. You fire a weak shot but your combat power is high enough that it distracts the kaiju for a moment.

And a moment is all that you need.

"Hey there, princess. You look like you could use a little saving. Don't worry, I won't tell the guys."

Right before your eyes, the beast suddenly splits into little dissected pieces and they rain down on the pavement, pelting the ground.

For the first time in years, you smile a real genuine smile as the Vice Captain holds his hand out to you. You're relieved to be alive to make it to another day, and you're shocked at how relieved you are. You don't remember when life began to feel so precious to you.

Maybe it was when you'd accidentally overheard a conversation where Hoshina was telling another officer that you'd be the one to bring hope to future generations.

Maybe it was when you'd forgotten your lunch one day and he'd sacrificed his lunch to leave it in your locker for you to find when your growling stomach had sent you hungrily ravaging through it for any snack you might've left behind.

Or maybe... maybe it was when your last living relative died and everyone whispered to each other about how cold you were for not shedding a tear and keeping your chin up when all you wanted to do was curl up and cry, but he alone told you in passing (not wanting to make a scene) that it was okay to grieve in whichever way you pleased.

And now he was holding a hand out to you. And you thought if you took it you might never let go. You might want to know where this led, what your feelings felt like when you let them roam wild, what he felt like in your arms.

Before you can decide if you truly want to take that terrifying step, his hand clasps yours and he pulls you in for a hug.

"You did good." He whispers in your ear.

You shake your head but you don't pull away from him. "I didn't. I almost died. You had to save me. I wasn't good enough."

"You're enough. You did well." He repeats, firmer this time.

You sigh against him, exhaling every pent up feeling you'd been holding on to. "Th-thank you, Vice Captain."

He pulls back a little and grins at you. "It's Soshiro, actually."

You bite your lip, trying to force down the warmth that's started to flood into your cheeks.

"You know I've never seen you like this before. It's a good look on you." He teases.

"Shut up, Soshiro."

He grins even wider at you using his first name so soon. "You get your butt kicked for the first time, you actually blush, and then you raise your voice at me? What is going on with you today?" He chuckles, nudging you playfully.

"I think... I think I might want to try something. Something different." You say finally.

He raises a curious eyebrow at you. "And what's that, princess?"

"Being honest with myself for once."

And with that, you pull him in and kiss him.

#kaiju no. 8 #soshiro hoshina #soshiro hoshina x reader #anime #hoshina #oneshot #hoshina x reader #hoshina soshiro x reader #anime fanfic #han's library

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the--blackdahlia · 2 months ago

Text

NSFW Alphabet (Beetlejuice x Fem Reader)

So this is the first time I've ever done one of these, so just go easy on me please.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

He's got to have a smoke after the act is done. Prefers it when your head is lying on his chest. You also wouldn't think he'd be a cuddler, but he surprises you every day.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He is a leg man. He's said and shown it a couple of times. He loves seeing you in short skirts. He's also been known to buy you the see-through leggings for when you're at home. (He enjoys all your parts but a good pair of legs really does it for him)

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He will cum anywhere. On you, in you, down your throat. It doesn't matter as long as he gets to cum.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He gets off on the idea of shrinking you down and fucking you in the model graveyard.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Well, he's over 600 years old, so he's been around a time or two. He absolutely knows what he's doing, and loves learning new things that didn't exist when he was alive.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

He likes it when you ride him. He gets to hold onto your thighs, watch your breasts, see your face. But he is also down for missionary when he wants to be in charge. But he's perfectly find just laying back and letting you do the work.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Sex is probably the only time he is serious. He wants to focus on the pleasure. Now afterward, it's like a dam opening up and he goes back to being a little shit.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Well just looking at him, he does not manscape, but you convince him to at least trim. It definitely does match the drapes, and he's damn proud of it.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

When you two are together, he can be the most romantic man. He whispers sweet nothings to you when he's in that moment. You know you're in for some true lovemaking when he brings you roses. They might not always be alive, but it's the thought.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He most definitely jacks off, especially when you two are apart for a while. He might use your psychic connection to watch you. Think phone sex but with better reception.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

He 100% has a daddy kink. He loves it the first time you slip up and call him daddy, and he just keeps it going. Also maybe a bit of a voyeur. He has spied on you a few times in the shower. Keeps him going until he can get his hands on you.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Your bedroom, his desk in the call center, the model. Anywhere he can have you, he will.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

It does not take much to get him going. You could be reading to him and it turns him on. Everything about you does that to him. But the biggest thing is when you get angry. One time, you were cussing up a storm about your boss and your job and he could've came right there.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He doesn't really like to hurt you. If he accidentally does, it derails the entire thing.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

The man doesn't have to breathe, so he is great at giving. He literally could go down on you for hours if you would let him. And he's never going to turn down a blowjob from you.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Depends on the situation. If he has a job to do, it will be fast and rough, pinned against the wall, on the couch, wherever. But if he has the time, he will spend literal hours worshipping your body.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He is totally okay with a quickie. Any chance he gets to fuck you is a chance he's going to take. A little time with you is better than nothing.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Since he's constantly learning the newest trends over the past 600 years, he is definitely down to experiment. But sometimes an old classic goes a long way.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Without having to really rest, breathe, or eat, he can go as long as you can, and sometimes even longer. He can be quick when he needs to be.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He has a collection of like, medieval sex toys. He doesn't use them on you, mainly because you won't let him. But he loves watching you use your modern ones, and will even take over controlling them. And when you introduced him to the joys of Bluetooth vibrators, he thinks he's finally found heaven.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He loves to wait until you're busy with work, then use your psychic connection to tease you. You can feel his lips on your neck, or his fingers pinching your nipples. You can feel his hands all over you, even though he's nowhere in the room. And he will do that until you summon him.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He's just loud enough for you to hear. Growls, deep moans, right in your ear. He'll call you baby girl, or another pet name, but only for you to hear.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He absolutely goes wild when you wear his suit jacket. Even if he drapes it over your shoulders when you're cold, he just can't resist you. To the point, you found lingerie in the black and white stripes. You have to keep buying it because he rips it off you to get to you.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

He has to sit like a whore because he is absolutely packing. He is thick and long, giving you the perfect stretch.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

He has a lot of time to make up for. So his sex drive is super high.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He doesn't need to sleep, but he will lay there quietly while you sleep. Sometimes he lets him at least pretend he's asleep, as long as he gets to lay by you.

#beetlejuice #michael keaton #keetlejuice #alphabet #beetlejuice x reader

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nana-au · 3 months ago

Text

𝐈 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐈𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐒𝐍'𝐓 𝐒𝐔𝐏𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐄...

𝜗𝜚 Satoru Gojo Prince AU ♡ part four

𝜗𝜚 Summary: satoru has an announcement to make to the royal court. you don't think you could've ever prepare yourself for what it could be. the two of you see each other after months of no contact and the result is bitter sweet. story summary based off of this drabble

𝜗𝜚 Warnings: forbidden love, unspoken feelings, heavy angst, intense emotions, suggestive flirting, heated make out, cussing, depression symptoms, misguided anger, jealousy.

𝜗𝜚 wc: 4,323

𝜗𝜚 an: there is a surprise guest from the jjk cast being introduced.. heh. dw he is just for the story and holds no interest in reader.

┊p1┊p2┊p3┊p4┊𝐍𝐨𝐰 𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠... p5┊

“How do you like kitchen duty, my dear?” the Queen asks, the royal blue wallpaper of her study behind her head seems to shift like the ocean waves; rising and falling - dancing in the reflection of your pupils as your tea is poured for you. With a wave of her hand the Queen’s servant is dismissed and it’s just the two of you alone. The silence is unsettling as much as it is intoxicating. The kitchen is noisy - pots and pans clanging together, the repeated motion of knife hitting cutting board, and the bubbling sounds of a roiling boil. But then there is your room at night; the bed you climb into is decently soft and the covers keep you warm enough but you’re missing the noise of Satoru’s words. Before everything changed you would lay awake and replay every conversation with the Prince; your heart would pound remembering every brush of his hand or intense gaze he didn’t bother to hide. Instead now even your own thoughts have quieted, leaving your night void of any stimulation.

“It’s been pleasant,” you respond, blowing on the hot tea you’ve brought to your lips. You don’t try very hard to sound convincing but if the Queen notices she doesn’t comment on it.

“I’ve heard you have been getting pretty close to one of the men in the kitchen,” she wiggles her eyebrows, like you’re her girl friend and she’s genuinely interested in your potential love life. You’re not entirely sure where she got such information from; but it’s been clear to you for a while now. She has eyes and ears everywhere.

“Forgive me, I’m not quite sure who you are referring to,” the tea is hot as you sip it, burning the taste buds you’ve barely been using these days.

“Well, Nanami, of course,” she takes a moment to sip her own tea. “He’s handsome… quite burly too for working in a kitchen,” she’s smirking describing the man like it's the most entertaining gossip in the whole world. You guess it's not the worst thing she could potentially hear about you. All though, the worst had already been said.

“He’s knowledgeable,” you tell her, stoic and devoid of any real emotion, “I enjoy learning what I can from him,” it’s a boring answer but your life is boring now. She frowns, almost a little disappointed that you won’t bite and indulge in ‘boy talk’ with her, but she continues on anyway.

“That’s how your parents met, you know,” another long sip of her tea, “your father used to volunteer in the kitchens just to see your mother,” she’s obnoxiously giddy again and you can’t fight the sour taste of disgust. It feels more like she’s describing a silly little romance novel and not real people’s lives. It’s almost amusing knowing that as soon as your ‘silly little romance’ got too close to her son it was no longer exciting to her. You kept silent - having nothing worth commenting aloud as you waited for her to get to her point. She didn’t invite you here to gossip, your life had hardly been entertaining since 3 months ago when you were banished from Satoru’s presence. Her lips purse for a moment before she talks, “Well that’s not why I invited you here anyways,”

No shit.

“I wanted to say thank you. I’m sure you’ve heard of our upcoming event in which Satoru will announce who he is courting,” you could have choked on air if you were not incredibly aware of yourself around the Queen. Instead you sucked in a quick breath. You had obviously been preparing for the event seeing as it was tomorrow and everyone in the kitchens scrambled around to get everything set for it - but you missed the part where it involved Satoru and his new potential partner. “I was incredibly worried for the future of our kingdom, and I appreciate your diligent work in securing that,” her words danced around the true meaning - but you weren’t a dunce. She was thanking you for hurting Satoru - and yourself in the process. A truly noble sacrifice indeed. You had to fight the desire to strangle yourself in front of her.

“Of course,” is all you muster, not bothering to put on a brave face.

“Remember the blonde Princess I talked about all those years ago?” she says, observing her pristine nails, “I knew Satoru would warm up to her if he tried,” your tea was gone by the end of her sentence and you lacked the stimulation now required for this conversation; your uneasiness eating away at your insides.

“I’ve heard she’s lovely,” your throat is dry despite downing an entire cup of tea.

“Oh more than lovely, if you could even imagine. I’ve never seen Satoru more at peace than when he’s listening to her playing piano. She’s quite the pianist!”

𝜗𝜚

Satoru did indeed enjoy the times she played for him. The melody left no room for chatter. It was the only moment the two of them were together that he could close his eyes and rest; shutting down after hours of struggling to be present. He didn’t need to pretend to listen to how her day went or care about her childhood. He didn’t need to make up details about his day or share stories of his own youth that he struggled to edit you out of. He could just be. And that’s how Satoru preferred it.

You would never know about it because ‘how could you?’ - but Satoru was a new man. Gone were the days of acting out or scoffing at his lessons. Gone were the days he preferred fencing to etiquette lessons. He now spent his time indoors because that’s where his bed was closest. His new favorite activity was painting. It was quiet and kept his mind occupied. He enjoyed painting with the new Princess the most - she would play while he would paint and as her hands created beautiful melodies Satoru’s created melancholy works of art

She peers a glance at his canvas over the piano, eyebrows furrowing as she notices the brooding blues, “You do realize this song is meant to elicit joy?” she inquires playfully, and Satoru apologizes.

“Forgive me, I don’t have much experience with music theory,” his brush dips into the blue oil paint before dabbing it onto the course fabric.

“Blue seems to be your favorite color,” she comments, her hands walking over each other as the keys come alive from her touch.

Satoru nods, “I do enjoy reds too. Deep reds,” he murmurs.

The color of his bleeding heart.

𝜗𝜚

When the King and Queen announce a new ball, Satoru already understands the reason without being told. He had to fix his blunder - the one where he abandoned his duties and prioritized the pleasure your presence gave him. He hadn’t seen you since that day - but he was sure your face would bring him anything but pleasure nowadays. He was agreeing to the expectations of this new event without listening. It didn’t matter to him anyways. His life wasn’t his - this was a fact he could no longer be gullible about.

That’s why he stood there in the center of the ballroom, fingers interlaced with the Princess as he smiled down at her like she meant something to him. Because his life wasn’t his and there were worse women in the world to be arranged to. The Princess really wasn’t all that bad. She was intelligent, respectful, charitable and incredibly humble. She knew there was more to life than her appearance all while being a sight for sore eyes. Satoru couldn’t have expected anyone more perfect for the role of his wife. With his heart now out of the picture - there was no better option than her. He could see that clearly now.

She nuzzled her head against his shoulder, hiding her blush as Satoru talked about the first day they met to an inquiring older man and that is when you finally see the two of them together. Surprisingly, you’re allowed out of your metaphorical cage - the King and Queen now fully entrusting you in the same room as Satoru after you successfully stomped out his light. You’re with the kitchen boy, Nanami, who was the Queen’s new show pony she liked to trot around; insisting he was there to describe the new hors d'oeuvre he created himself. Neither of you were entirely convinced the Queen thought that highly of the dish - rather than the idea of having such an esteemed cook now residing in her royal kitchen. Your jaw drops seeing the two of them next to each other. You had only seen paintings of the Princess, and even those did not prepare you for the intensity of her eyes and the silkiness of her hair. You were right all those years ago; next to Satoru wearing his family’s signature blue - she fit perfectly.

And Satoru. Your Satoru. He looked so sorrowfully beautiful. His jaw was sharper and his eyes were darker but he was still Satoru and that fact alone made it impossible to look away. You had no right - but your watery eyes threatened to spill over watching the Prince hold hands with the Princess. A pitiful feeling fell over you once you realized you couldn’t read his expression. There had never been a day that you couldn’t skim his face like the pages of a book and pinpoint exactly what he was thinking - but now being in the same room with him after so long - you realized you were no longer privy to his thoughts like you used to be. Perhaps that ability was now reserved for the woman who held his hand. If it wasn’t so devastating you might have considered thanking the Queen for what she made you do. You had to have looked so silly beside him seeing the Princess in front of you now - appearing to be a piece of the same puzzle by his side.

“Are you doing okay?” a deep voice prods your ear and you turn to see Nanami, standing by your side with a look of worry. The Queen wasn’t entirely wrong when she spoke of rumors that the two of you were close - you were in a lot of ways. Just not in the way she found most interesting. Nanami taught you a lot of skills in the kitchen. He showed you the best ways to cut vegetables and the importance of never looking away from milk boiling on a stove top. He told you stories of his travels in search of the best ingredients and his experience being raised on the country-side of a faraway nation whose people were dying of hunger. How his life as a child shaped him into who he was to this day: a seasoned cook who the highest of society paid a pretty penny to grace their kitchens. For some time you spared him the details of your life and he took it well - waiting for the moment you decided he was someone you could trust - and once you did it seemed to flow out of you and never stop. He knew all about your childhood with Satoru and how things became the way they are now. He didn’t scoff at you for daring to imagine yourself next to a Prince or gawk at the audacity it must take to delude yourself into believing your life could possibly be different than those before you. He just listened while he prepared a snack for the two of you. It was cathartic being around someone who carried as much baggage as you. The two of you were stronger than ever by each other’s side, and that is why you stood with him while he talked to the snobs he couldn’t stand and he stood with you while you watched the Prince make his love interest known to everyone. “Go take a moment for yourself, I’ll cover for you,” he offered and you shook your head.

“I promised I wouldn’t leave you alone with these assholes,” you say, earning a chuckle from the blond man next to you. You look up at him and all though he’s laughing his eyes don’t contain humor - more concerned for you while witnessing the same display you had to. He knew it couldn’t be easy.

He leaned in once more, “Well if you change your mind, I won’t be mad,” you smile at him, grateful that you weren’t entirely alone in your new reality.

𝜗𝜚

Just like the two of you could see the royal couple they could see you too - if they knew what to look for. You caught the Prince’s eye while he took a sip of his champagne, using it as a moment to take in the scene around him until he spotted you. He didn’t know what to expect when he first considered the possibility of running into you again; you two inhabited the same estate and though it was big you had your whole lives to bump into each other. Originally he thought his anger would get the better of him once he finally laid eyes on you. Or he considered that given enough time had passed, looking into your eyes wouldn’t elicit any kind of emotion in him - completely indifferent to your role in his life, like all other servants. What he didn’t expect was for his heart to fail him, the once slow pace now jump started with adrenaline. His heart rate was wild and his pupils dilated. The bubbly drink that usually burned on the way down had effortlessly passed his throat and entered his stomach that grew weak with just one look at you. If he wasn’t careful the Princess beside him would take note of how he completely removed himself from their conversation - but careful he could not be. He wanted to curse his cheeks for warming up at the mere thought of breathing the same air as you… how could he be present? Satoru wouldn’t have even noticed the man standing next to you if not for the way his tall form towered over you, blocking you from the Prince’s view. That’s when Satoru began to grow just a little more aware of his surroundings - or more so your surroundings. While he repeated the words you said to him that day like it was a prayer he couldn’t help but retell before bed - lest he forget - he still fought the logical side of him begging him to accept your words as fact. But he couldn’t because he couldn’t accept your own interpretation of your feelings while you shook and sniffled in the stables. He believed you wanted nothing more to do with him - but he thought the pressure of fighting for your rightful place in his life was one you could no longer stomach. That was what caused him the pain he felt each passing moment. That you lost your fight because Satoru wasn’t worth it. But how could he believe you lost your fight when you had no one in your life pressuring you to move on like he did - yet there you stood seemingly cozy next to the tall man beside you. Perhaps the thought of you giving up on Satoru hurt his heart less and that was why he settled on that thought, instead of the earth-shattering possibility that you could have actually wanted nothing to do with him.

So why would you have kissed him?

𝜗𝜚

It was a quiet afternoon when the two of you decided to stroll through the garden’s after Satoru’s tea break. You often found it beneficial to have Satoru spend time outside inbetween his lessons - he would have a new found focus when given the chance to allow his mind to wander in the cool air that the spring time offered. His fingers would busy themselves with the petals of a flower and you would walk in silence beside him, listening to him ramble or letting him bask in the tranquility nature offered.

That day was one of those times Satoru pondered silently and you let him, enjoying the unique flowers the Gojo’s had planted from all across the globe while you walked by his side. His face was scrunched in thought and his hands were busy with the stem of a lily, using his thumbs to pry the plant open to feel around its sticky insides. You two were deep in your walk, the garden trail extending surprisingly far on the Gojo’s lawn. The estate was now hidden by the yards of thick bushes that separated the trail from other parts of their extensive property. Satoru let out a breath you didn’t realize he was holding, and you turned to look at him.

He seemed anxious, the tips of his ears were deep red and his face was scrunched with worry. “Did you get a sunburn, Satoru?” you ask him, stopping him in his tracks to get a better look at his ears. They were hot to the touch as you inspected them but he was antsy rather than in pain from the grip you had on his cartilage.

“What do you think about kissing?” he asked, his cheeks turning as red as his ears. You giggle at him, not because it was random - no that was normal for Satoru - but the topic was a bit suspicious.

“Why do you ask?” you all but flirt - finding the confidence to since you had the upper hand.

“I don’t know… it just kept coming up in the book I’ve been reading,” he puts simply, trying to end the conversation he brought up. It was rare for Satoru to embarrass himself like such, and it was going to be hard for him to get you to ignore it.

“You've been thinking a lot about kissing, haven't you?” you continue to tease, and he scratches the back of his neck.

“No!” he scoffs, “Just.. nevermind,” the flower he was dissecting was discarded for a new one - his fingers plucking the petals before tearing into the ovule roughly.

“I don’t know what I think about kissing, I’ve never kissed,” you answer his original question, engaging him back into the conversation.

“Me neither,” he responded, defiling the poor flower a little less since you had his attention. ‘What do you think it’s like?” It’s your turn to blush and he definitely realizes his newfound control over the conversation - turning the tables on you as he begins to poke you about it. “It’s probably wet, right? Well if you used tongue,” you’re a blushing mess listening to your best friend describe something such as tongue-kissing and he’s smiling at you. His pearly white teeth sparkle under the sun while he continues his torture, “I’d imagine it’s warm too - and soft. Your lips look soft,” he comments and you could feel yourself struggling to hold back your bashful reaction. He knew how to work you up just like you knew how to work him up. Unfortunately he was a little bit better at it than you - or you were just more susceptible under his gaze. He comes in closer to you - you think just to tease you further and get your heart to racket against your chest and you’re not entirely wrong. It’s hard to focus when his broad shoulders contrast yours and when you feel the palm of his hand touch your sternum to feel the pounding of your heart - you can’t fathom how you’re still standing on your own. “Your heart rate is fast,” he comments, pretending he has no concept as to why that could be.

“You flirt too much, Satoru,” you grumble at him, trying and failing to steady your heart beats with him so close. His breath smells sweet like the candies he eats and you can’t protect your nose from the pleasant musk that clings to his skin.

“I’m not flirting. I’m just asking you a question,” he’s somehow closer and his hand won’t leave the spot between your breasts.

“Yeah. Kissing is probably warm and wet and whatever else you said,” you mumble, desperate to crawl away from him while simultaneously scared of losing physical contact with him.

“Maybe we should test our hypothesis,” he’s still smiling but his eyes don’t match; half lidded while he observes the twitch of your lips at his words. You gulp, unable to keep yourself from looking at his own pair of lips. You note that they look soft too, even when he bites at them upon noticing you’re doing the same as him. “It can just be a quick one,” he says, almost like he’s trying to convince you now like he’s already convinced himself years ago. Unbeknownst to him you needed very little convincing.

“Just a quick one,” you all but breathe out, and the two of you are leaning in without realizing it until your lips meet. Your lips feel plump against his, soft like the pillow he lays his head on at night and he doesn’t want it to end. His hand meets your jaw, holding you still while his lips get used to the feeling of yours against them. Your hands come up to grip his shirt, bracing yourself while he slowly deepens it, testing the waters by slowly poking his tongue inside your mouth. You pull back, yelping at the unexpected intrusion.

“Do you trust me?” he asks, voice sultry and deep and you nod at him, going back in for more. He starts slowly again, pecking your lips softly before working his way up to prodding his tongue cautiously against your sweet lips. You let him in and he all but groans, gripping your waist with his other hands so he can feel you pressed up against him. You both have no idea what you’re doing, teeth and tongues hesitantly clashing as you explore each other’s mouths. His pulse quickens when you let out a weak moan muffled by his mouth hot against yours. His hand on your jaw slowly works its way down your neck, across your collarbone, before hesitantly stopping at the start of your breast. You’re both clouded by the haze created between the two of you, unaware of your surroundings until you hear the scurry of an animal. You both pull away - scanning the area with no luck of finding the creature that caused it. You clear your throat and try your best to pull yourself together - but it’s hard when his eyes are so dark and his lips are so red and glossy from your spit.

“Let’s get back, Satoru. Your teacher will be expecting you soon,” and off you go, with Satoru trailing behind you.

𝜗𝜚

Satoru had never felt the foreign concept of competition in regards to you. It must be the reason he felt such vitriolic jealousy seeing you next to another man. He had no time to consider himself a fool. He wanted nothing more than to see his nose smashed in and your eyes on him again.

But Satoru had to remind himself he was different. He was no longer the old Satoru whose emotions reigned over his logic. While the new Satoru was born through pain, it would do him good to act on the new things he learned; like patience.

And patience he needed when later that night he found himself wandering into the kitchen for a glass of water - expecting the room to be empty and overcome with shock when he saw you there. You’re not alone either. The man from earlier guided your hand as you two fileted a fish. And what an odd sight it was - seeing your back pressed up another man’s chest as he carefully guided your knife against the belly of a salmon. Nanami notices the Prince first, respectfully removing his guiding hands and you look up, mouth agape at the sight of the unimpressed Prince in front of you. “Prince Gojo,” you both say, bowing respectfully at him. “How can we be of service?” Nanami asks, still stuck in his bow to Satoru. For the first time in your life you see Satoru ponder his next words and it is almost as shocking as being in the same room as him for the second time after going no-contact all those months ago. You aren’t used to him thinking so long about what to say; you’d always known him to speak his mind unfiltered. It made you incredibly uneasy.

“Are they aware you two occupy the kitchens after they’re meant to be closed,” he asks and you’re even more confused. Satoru? Becoming a stickler for rules? Your jaw hung open just for a moment when you remembered to pick it back up.

“We’re very sorry, your royal highness. We will be sure to clean up and head off to bed,” Nanami is nothing short of respectful but Satoru still can’t hold back a scoff, turning his head to glance your way. His eyes miss their softness you’ve always been used to and you cower under his eyes, keeping your gaze on the ground until he finally turns around and leaves.

𝜗𝜚

That night is the first night you let yourself think about Satoru again, now having many things to think about as you lay awake in your bed.

He looked… almost disappointed in you? You try to fight the idea of him caring what you chose to do, chalking it up to your hopeless wanting that he was as stuck on you as you were stuck on him. But you saw him tonight with the Princess; getting close to her like he only ever did with you and you know you can’t let yourself get caught up in misguided optimism - Satoru had moved on and did exactly what you needed him to do… So why did that realization have to be so unbelievable to you?

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┊p1┊p2┊p3┊p4┊𝐍𝐨𝐰 𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠... p5┊

(ty for all the support! comment to be added/removed)

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byfulcrums · 1 year ago

Text

Seeing people saying that Satoru doesn't actually care about Suguru and that the only reason Kenjaku caught him was bc he was surprised to see a person he killed alive is fucking wild, man

Like. Gojo's entire life revolves around Geto. The entire series happens because he loved Suguru too much to kill him, even though he knew he would have to do it eventually. The world literally went to shit because he wasn't over him

Geto Suguru's life would be completely unimportant to the story without Gojo Satoru, and Gojo Satoru's would be completely unimportant without Geto Suguru. They complement each other. They need each other

Two male betta fishes can't coexist. They will fight and one will die. They can't see each other — even if they're in different tanks, they won't be able to live. They'd eventually tire each other out, resulting in death. The only way for Satoru and Suguru's lives to be able to continue without the other would've been for them to never have met at all. And they can't be together. Not now, not ever again. Not while they're still alive. Not after everything that's happened

The entire story revolves around their relationship. Yuuji is a boy who ate a curse('s finger[s]), and Megumi is the prodigy who befriends him. Satoru is a prodigy, the strongest, and Suguru, the boy whose technique is eating curses, befriends him. The Jujutsu Kaisen story is all about parallels and they all connect to fucking Satosugu. It's all about them

The only reason Kenjaku's plan worked is because the body he used didn't belong to some random person Gojo killed, it worked because the body he used was Geto Suguru's, Gojo's one and only, his best friend. He must be thinking “Thank god they're gay” right now lmao

Gojo fucking hesitated. He hesitated multiple times when it came to Geto. He was supposed to kill him, yet he let him go. He has the Six Eyes, he could've easily tracked him down. He probably could tell if he was nearby (he can recognize Suguru from his scent) and just didn't go looking for him. And he could've so very easily escaped the trap that was set up for him, he was going to run away from it because we see him about to take that step but then Suguru's body shows up and says “Yo, Satoru!” with Suguru's voice and Satoru freezes and hesitates

They weren't able to let go of each other even after years of being separated (like a decade). When they meet, Suguru still greets Satoru warmly

Suguru is pretty much Satoru's moral code. He was the only person Satoru took at least mildly seriously pre-Toji (and we know Satoru just didn't do serious back then). He actually took his words to heart. He was kind, of course (especially from Suguru's PoV, since he's the person that knows him most), and not a bad person, but he wasn't nice. Suguru was always the ‘nice(r) one’, the one who actually had a moral code, while Satoru was more of an asshole to literally everyone and everything (some more, some less), thinking he and Suguru were above everyone else

When Suguru finally snaps (which, honestly. Fair) and goes genocidal (not so fair), Satoru slowly starts to be somewhat nicer and starts applying Suguru's old moral code to his own being — their roles weren't exactly reversed, but now they're not together anymore, so they might as well be. And Suguru was shown for having faith in the school and its system while it was Satoru the one who absolutely abhorred the higher-ups and all kinds of authority, but then it ended up with Suguru being the one to leave and become a cult leader with the blood of hundreds on his hands while Satoru was the one that stayed behind in the same place of the people he despises so much

(Imagine someone saying something like “Sometimes I doubt you even have a moral code” and Gojo answers with “Oh, my best friend my one and only is pretty much my moral code. He went homicidal a while back but it's okay haha” “...Actually, that explains a few things”)

Gojo doesn't have a god complex, but I wouldn't blame him if he did. I mean, he might as well be the closest thing to god human beings have ever seen. He used to put himself above everyone else, when he was a teenager. He thought that, the higher he was, the more he could do. And no one was better than him. But not Suguru. Back then, it wasn't “I'm the strongest” it was “We're the strongest and “We're the best” and “We're the ones that will beat you” and “We're the duo” and it was all about “us, us, us, us, us” instead of “me, me, me, me” like people thought it was — they were a pair. They still are

We know people thought and still think of Gojo as a weapon. As something that must be controlled, because on the moment he decides he doesn't want to be around them anymore, he could just straight up kill then without any effort (but getting rid of people in positions of power only gets other people in positions of power and it'll be a neverending story, and Gojo knows this so he's trying to do his best to fix it all through the younger generation, by letting them live). And we also know that Suguru is one of the very few people who did not believe that at all

Like their personalities and characters and stories and literally everything, their names complement each other. Gojo Satoru and Geto Suguru are such similar names, I get them mixed up all the time (the amount of times I've called them “Gojo Suguru” and “Geto Satoru” is embarassing. Also, “Saturu”. “Goto”. “Gejo”. Ugh). Both of their last names start with a G, end with an O and have 4 letters. Both of their given names start with an S, end with an U and have 6 letters. They complement each other. They need each other

The only times we've seen Gojo with an expression of actual pure, raw emotion is when it's about Geto. When he finds out about what Geto did, when he realizes how thin and wrong Geto looks, when he sees him again for what we assume to be the first time in years, when he dies, when a thing wearing his corpse and using his voice greets him (“Yo, Satoru!” oh my god)

Suguru was able to fight back when in Kenjaku's control after Satoru said his name. Kenjaku himself says that had never happened before

And you don't even have to see them as romantic. You don't have to ship them if you don't want to. But you can't deny that they care about each other more than they will ever care about anyone else

#hey is it whose or who's #how do those words work???? english is so confusing sometimes smh #jujutsu kaisen #satosugu #they love each other your honor #jjk #jjk manga spoilers #kenjaku #satoru gojo #gojo satoru #geto suguru #suguru geto #gay #this is kinda long haha #but they deserve the longest of paragraphs #edit: i changed this a little bc my dumbass self said gojo had a god complex #i didn't actually know what a god complex is. mb #edit: i'm proud to say this is pretty much my best post

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bunnys-kisses · 2 months ago

Text

make 'em young dumb and full of cum

toto wolff

cw: smut/pwp, sugar daddy au, russell!reader, age gap (20s/50s), doggy style, (failed) pull out method, daddy kink, filth (!!!)

this rabbit runs on reblogs & comments! feed the bunny

toto wolff was a man who enjoyed the adrenaline of the race. both as a driver and as a head principal. but, lately, everything felt slower. while mercedes wasn't on top of the world yet, it was making good progress. but the slow days made toto want to sink his teeth into something.

"this is stupid george!" toto heard a voice nearby that took him away from his phone. he looked over in the direction of his driver and a girl by his car.

"aw, c'mon. you always talk about how you have no way to show off to your friends that your brother is a formula one driver! you can get a little closer the car, it won't bite!"

toto took a second glance at you and his stomach sank. he knew about george's family, and had even met them on more than one occasion. but george had a sister who rarely if never around the track due to her being away for school. something about a master's program.

but as you shifted a little closer to george's car and smiled at the camera, flashing a peace sign, toto knew where to sink those canines into next.

toto had thought out this entire plan. he had put all of his skills to use, figuring out how to get such a precious woman into his bed. he was quite a bit older than you, and in all honesty, he wasn't even certain that you liked older men.

but you came to him like a gift from heaven. you were in his hotel room, with your clothes off. a compromising position for the sister of one of the best driver's in the world. it was even more scandalous that toto was standing in front of you. his arms crossed and his eyes staring down at you.

you felt so much more smaller, physical you were. he towered over you. the man was over six feet tall, and he was a great bit older than you. it was a domineering factor in every way, size, age, status, wealth. you were some little university student and toto wanted to devour you whole.

"you look lovely."

you shifted a little, "i'm pretty sure you could've found someone hotter in the stands, mr. wolff." you swallowed a little. the focus on you was a little too much. you had become so used to your brother being the center of everything, you were fine with being left alone. but to feel toto's searing gaze on you, heated by an undeniable lust was a bit much.

"don't look away from me." he said as he took you by the jaw and made you look up at him. he admired your beauty. those beautiful eyes, the softness of your bottom lip. the small scar on your cheek, it made toto a little curious. he wondered how many more scars and marks littered your body upon inspection.

you looked different than your brother, but in a good way. toto didn't want to fuck the female version of his driver. you were your own woman, and toto couldn't get enough.

"i'm sorry, sir."

he chuckled, "sir sounds very nice on your tongue. but i know a word that sounds better." when you perked up at his words, he added, "daddy."

the change in your expression made him chuckle before he leaned down to kiss you deeply on the lips. you were a fine woman, perfect like wine.

you whimpered, "daddy!"

he pulled away and started to undress. maybe next time you'll wear one of his button ups to the track. keep you nice and safe, thinking of daddy while he works. you swallowed when he got his under shirt off, followed by his expensive leather belt and his slacks. everything was off and on the floor before he got on the bed beside you.

"why don't you get on your hands and knees for me, beautiful." his large hand was on your thigh, fingers threatening to get in between your legs.

you nodded and kissed him once more. you felt a flutter in your chest. there was a angle of this that said it was wrong. but, you were both adults. and it wasn't like your brother would find out. plus, the attention that toto gave you made you feel electric. it was unlike any other man you had ever been with.

they were boys. toto was a man.

his gaze lingered as you got further up onto the bed, your face buried in the softness of the pillows with your hips angled upwards to have easy access for toto. toto soon got behind you, on his knees. his back was curved to get closer to you. the size difference was noticeable.

but he liked them smaller, struggling to take even his fingers. watch them become so soft and warm around his aching cock. and you were just euphoria when he managed to stuff his entire cock inside of you. your back arched and you hips raised further, you whined sweetly into the covers.

his hands were placed on your hips and he started to rut up against you. he could feel the heat pool in his gut. you were beautiful. he started to rut against you, moving his hips up against you. you fit him perfectly.

"you'll pull out right?" you asked meekly.

he reached for the back of your head and rubbed it gently, "of course, schatzi. of course. no need to worry."

you visibly relaxed more which allowed toto more of an opportunity to move against you. he pushed you further into the mattress with each heavy thrust. he pressed you further down by the back of your head which gave him more leverage.

you held onto the covers and tried to meet his pace. look at you, trying to hard to be a good girl for toto. he loved the feeling of you against him, you were a sweet little vice that milked him for all he was worth. a woman like you was dangerous, you could have the whole paddock under your thumb if you chose so.

but you'd never do that, right? you'd behave. plus, call toto a possessive old man, but he was going to do everything in his power to make sure that you didn't slip between his fingers. you were a prize to be kept. maybe it was a small blessing that you hadn't been at the paddock as much, if toto caught sight of you sooner. by now you would've been married with two children. kiss goodbye to you undergraduate degree.

"please. daddy." you whimpered.

the bed moved a little bit under your motions. his soft groaning was over shadowed by your louder whimpers. the heavy breathing and the squeaking of the bed filled the room. your cunt was soaked and he speared into you with a quickened pace.

"you feel so good, my treasure." he said as he leaned over you. next time he'd love to see your face and to hear your noises better. not muffled by the soft hotel pillows under your head.

"thank you, daddy." you replied. already so good for him.

where had george russell been keeping you this whole time? his precious sister off away to university. maybe it was the best that you were so far away for school for so long. for toto's own sanity.

if he knew you were the apple in the garden of eden then maybe he would've second guessed having you in his hotel room. but now he was hooked in a way, anything to keep this precious woman under him.

all the thing he wanted to do you.

his pace staggered, your cunt was a vice around him. he needed to fill you to the brim, he needed to know that he marked you properly. there was no need to be playing around with boys anymore. not when you had a man like toto by your side. his pace only got more erratic, when your back arched further and you climaxed. your head buried in the covers.

"ah!! toto!" you whimpered loudly as you clawed at the covers under you with those pretty pink nails. everything about you was perfect. he finished inside of you and you made such a sweet noise. you said softly, "wait, wait! you were supposed to pull out."

toto just wrapped a strong arm around you and said to you softly, "don't worry, schatzi. it won't take." not yet.

george russell got a shiny little contract wrapped in a bow about two weeks later. a promise that mercedes would be his home. toto said that he greatly believed in the driver.

and toto got a winter break in monaco with the sweetest thing since honey. he may have been lying to george, a little bit. a little white lie never killed anyone. in reality, he wanted you as close as he could get you.

true, if george moved to a different team, toto would still see you. the problem is that you wouldn't be wearing the mercedes colours. you'd be in something more garish. he needed you close, if he had to he'd put you in the shirts he wore to the races. something to stake a claim, as if your cunt was sticky with his cum at all times.

"good girl." he said softly into your ear, "your brother was pretty excited about that raise in pay." he moved up against your slowly, "you helped me make that decision."

you arched your back and gripped onto the expensive covers. you whimpered, "really, daddy?"

"yes.' he kissed the shell of your ear, "and next year will be even bigger, if you do one little thing for me, schatzi."

you nodded, always eager to please. your cunt was tight around his cock as he pressed into you.

he held your hair and pressed you a little further into the bed, "you be good for me for the entire season. take a year off of school." he hoped one year would turn into two, and two would turn into a drop-out. toto was a man who loved action. but, he also loved the idea of making george russell's sister his bride. <3

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eee-lordy · 10 months ago

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Make It Up

Jacob comes home from filming to comfort his increasingly insecure girlfriend. 1k

───※ ·❆· ※───

Jacob had been away long enough for you to feel the impact of how alone you really were. Of course, you were glad he was off living his dream. You couldn't have been happier for him, actually.

But Jacob was always good at changing your perspective when he was around. Not that you needed anyone to tell you who to be. But Jacob always knew just what to say. He listened to you, he didn't diminish your feelings, and he was a master at getting you to see your insecurities in a different light, all the while.

But he was gone, and your mind seemed to run a little more frantically each day. As you got ready for work, all the bits about yourself you liked least stared back in the mirror. Nothing you seemed to tell yourself made much of a difference.

So you just pretended it wasn't happening at all, for a while. When he called, all you focused on how happy he sounded. You let Jacob tell you all about his wonderful time on set and the people he'd gotten to know, your own worries lost as he reminded you of good things.

And when Jacob's film wrapped up, and he and his castmates toured about chatting to press in their Sunday best, you caught bits of one of those interviews on the morning news.

Your boyfriend was absurdly attractive, and he fit right in between equally as pretty actors and directors. You'd usually drool as he lit up the screen, but this time was different. As his castmates all squished together on one big couch you couldn't help but notice how lovely the girl next to Jacob seemed. She had the perfect face, and an even better body and she looked so natural there next to him. Jacob somehow seemed even more handsome when your focus shifted back to his way.

That's who he deserved by his side, you thought. Someone just as beautiful and illuminating as Jacob himself. Not you.

While you went about your week, your insecurity seemed to be bubbling to a boiling point. When Jacob video called, you reached for a sweater before answering, in case any of his beautiful castmates were around to see the poor excuse of a girlfriend he had back home.

"One more day and we can get back to normal." Jacob sighed, lounging alone in some hotel bed, lily white sheets looking like heaven wrinkled around him.

"Yeah, normal." You shrugged. A glimmer of hope fizzed in your chest at the thought. Your insecurities had never been so intrusive before, so it felt criminal to address them at all. It wasn't Jacob's fault that everyone he worked with was some kind of supermodel. You knew you had to get yourself in check before he got back, tomorrow. Maybe once Jacob was home, he'd distract you from your own thoughts long enough for you to forget them altogether.

That's exactly what you tried to practice as you prepared to see him again.

When Jacob showed up in the front doorway at long last, the only worry you had was closing the gap between you. He dropped his luggage and lunged in for a kiss. Two Kisses. There, four, five.

"I missed you too." You joked when he pulled away to catch his breath. He laughed before pressing another quick kiss to your cheek and tugging you across the house. His luggage had been abandoned in the entryway as he mentioned something about being utterly exhausted. You followed close behind through the bedroom door, lost in the haze of how giddy you were to have his hand in yours once again.

"I kept dozing off on the plane and dreaming of finally sleeping in my own bed. But I suddenly just want to tell you everything, love." Jacob beamed as you flipped off the bedroom light, leaving a lamp to glow from the corner.

"I won't stop you. I can't wait to hear everything." You assured with a smile. Jacob looked so sleepy, with his droopy dark eyes and slouched shoulders. But his smile was radiant as he went on to tell you some story of the night he and his castmates got kicked out of a bar.

"We all had such fun. I wish you could've been there, my love." Jacob cooed, crossing the room to start getting ready for bed. He kicked his trousers off toward the hamper as he went on yammering.

"I absolutely can't wait to take you to all the premier parties and things. I'm dying to show you off."

You'd been circling in search of where you'd left your pj's when you registered what Jacob said. You stopped in your tracks, thanking the heavens that your back was to Jacob as you tried to suppress the sudden wave of insecurity.

You felt so unimpressive. No, worse. You felt horrid. And all the work you'd done to forget how badly you'd been feeling crumbled as all your self-conscious thoughts bombarded you at once.

You felt worried to be seen at all, and next to your stone-carved deity of a boyfriend no less. The worst of it was, you knew this was stupid. You knew most of your thinking was skewed, but it didn't stop you from feeling so insecure.

"Babe?" Jacob called from somewhere closer than before. You sucked in a breath, hoping an answer would effortlessly escape afterward. But all you could manage was a frustrated whimper.

"I know it's dumb... but I feel like shit." You explained turning to face Jacob. He had already been looking toward you with a furrowed brow. After you shakily admitted how you'd been feeling, a frown pulled at his lips.

"Huh? You-" He started, shifting a little closer to you. But once you'd given yourself the spotlight, you had to finish explaining yourself before you lost the courage.

"You're like... a fucking statue and you should be out with someone just as beautiful, like one of those pretty little things you fit so well with on the screen. I'm afraid I'm not good enough for you and I'm sorry this is so dumb but-"

"Oh, my love, no. No, listen to me." Jacob took a few steps to meet you in the middle, His deep dark eyes pierced into yours as he tangled both of his hands in your hair.

"You're a vision. You're so beautiful and I want you with me and near me always. I want you." Jacob stressed each word and searched your eyes, and you knew he was sincere. You half expected him to roll his eyes and say something about how sick he was of hearing you complain, like so many of your partners had in the past. But Jacob was different.

"You're too good to me." You spoke, somewhere between feeling genuinely thankful for his abundance of care and feeling completely unworthy of it.

"You're perfect. Everything about you is exceptional and divine."

Jacob softly gushed all while he took a gentle grasp of your hips to pull you to the bed he walked back towards. As he sat, you settled into his lap without missing a beat, somehow magnetically moving to be close to him.

"I'm sorry I've been away. I wish I could've spent my days telling you how much I love and adore you. I'm sorry I never say it enough anyway."

"Oh, Jacob." You cooed, searching his starry eyes. "I'm sorry I'm so difficult." You felt moved to sweep up your dramatics.

"You're not difficult. I happen to find you very easy to adore." Jacob's fingers trailed slowly up your sides while his eyes stayed happily glued on yours. He was so brilliant at making sure you felt comfortable. Content. Wanted.

"Now you're just being ridiculous." You mewled, resting your forehead against his. He couldn't possibly be so full of compliments. He must have just been trying to calm you down.

"It's true my love. You're stunning. Remember that outfit you wore to last year's family Christmas? We were late to the party because I simply couldn't handle how good you looked that night. Nearly had a heart attack. Really! Your beauty takes my breath away to the point of medical emergencies I swear it."

Okay, so maybe Jacob was just as dramatic as you.

"I wore it cause it covered up everything nicely." You rolled your eyes with a small smile at his efforts to make you feel better.

"What's underneath is even nicer, love," He whispered in a soft grit, eyes still locked on yours. You nearly lost yourself in the tender moment.

All you could do was kiss him then, not having to move much, just exchanging a long-lasting peck that made up for all your lost words.

Jacob kissed you back a little harder, but not by much. Even as things transitioned into something physical, they stayed soft. It seemed Jacob was still communicating with you, gentle taps and touches asking permission to linger longer. You responded in your own way, with sinking closer to him with contented sighs.

Your kisses stayed slow, but steadily grew deeper until you had to part to take a breath.

"I never want to be away so long ever again," Jacob quietly whined as you brought a hand to his pretty face, wondering how you got so lucky in love.

"How I've missed you." You let a grin blossom to your lips as you realized you didn't have to miss him any longer. Jacob gazed to you with darkened eyes that broke away from yours for the first time to search your face.

"Let me make it up to you, my love?" He asked, the whisper nearly caught in his throat. You quirked a hopeful brow as your hands trailed under his old T-shirt. He tossed it to the ground as you leaned in for another small kiss. Jacob took his time pushing your top away, nipping at your neck and shoulder as you let your shirt fall to the ground.

That's when he secured both strong arms around you, moving to lay you back against the pillows.

He settled on top of you and the weight brought you the encompassing comfort you'd been missing. You trailed a hand across his warm skin, delighted by the feeling. Jacob reached for the waistband of your trousers while he returned to kissing your neck, leaving burning a trail down your throat.

"I love everything about you. I feel so lucky." Jacob sighed, "I am lucky." He nodded with a look to you.

He went on saying things like that, not just to fill your head, but to drive home how dearly he actually cared for you. He seemed to take account of every bit of you, sending shivers down your spine and even scoring a breathy giggle or two. And when you tried to move on a mission to make sure he was feeling just as lovely as he'd been making you feel, he wouldn't let you.

Jacob kept a gentle hold on you and made you feel exceptionally wonderful, beautiful and admired. As his touch grew hotter and his hold grew tighter, you decided that so long as Jacob seemed to think you hung the moon, you didn't care about the stars off in the distance. He was the sun that shone light to your darkest parts, and your world was so much better off that way.

───※ ·❆· ※───

Requests are open ♡

#jacob elordi x reader #jacob elordi x fem!reader #jacob elordi fanfic #jacob elordi

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