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maybankswhore · 1 year ago

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𝐃𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐄 ’ part one.

SUMMARY: jj finds himself crushing on kildare’s good girl.

PAIRING: bad boy!jj maybank x good girl!reader ( basically kook!reader. )

WARNINGS: smoking , cursing , thoughts of ‘corruption’ & violence.

listened to ‘born to die’ by lana del rey & ‘delicate’ by taylor swift & this plot was born! i’m obsessed with bad boy jj x good girl reader trope & i really liked the nsfw headcanon i did a few months back. this is one of my favorite’s i’ve ever writtenz

Your voice was sickly sweet in his ears everytime he heard it. Your words rolling off your tongue smoothly , slipping into his brain and making it go into a fog— like the highest he’d ever get. He always wanted more , listening in absentmindedly during class when you gossiped with your friends. He loved it when you laughed at something , the way your eyes would wrinkle and your hand would cover your mouth because you were embarrassed by how loud your laughter would carry. You shined in his eyes , always floating around like some god damn angel.

You were painfully innocent. Kind and friendly to everyone you came across. It was the type of innocent that all the boys adored , and all the girls found endearing. You wouldn’t hurt a fly. Everyone who knew you either loved you or hated you— the latter always one in a million. It was hard not to like you , because of your habit to cheer up even the angriest of people around you. You were a simple girl , always walking around in your little sundresses waving at everyone and wishing them a good day.

JJ adored that part of you. He found it cute the way you were so naively oblivious. When the boys would shower you in gifts and compliments , the thought of an ulterior motive never crossed your mind. You’d simply thank them with a smile , promising to do something sweet in return. It had gotten to the point that people had stopped trying because no matter what anyone did— you treated everyone the same. You were friendly and kind to everyone , no matter how hard they tried to be special or different in your eyes it just went right over your head and you didn’t give it a second thought.

Like today , in the cafeteria , JJ watched you from across the room with his hands in his pockets leaning back in his seat. His toothpick on the side of his lip hanging as he lightly chewed it. JJ Maybank out of all people— the boy who was the complete opposite of you had been so hellbent on you. Nobody really understood it but at the same time , they were all too afraid to speak up to him about it. He was violent and mean , dismissive to girls like you. The Kooky , preppy kind. But it hadn’t mattered to him because you were his only exception.

Your friend whispered in your ear , something JJ could only guess was something about him. He watched as you flushed , not being able to stop the smirk on his face as you swatted her away with the shake of your head. With eyelashes fluttering , you looked up at him , pursing your lips. He nodded your way as a sign of approval— a hello all in the same. Your lips pressed into a smile at that , wiggling your fingers lightly before adverting your attention back to your friends. The way the girls around you went to whispering in your ear caused something to swell in JJ’s chest , hoping you’d finally manage to let him have a conversation with him. For everyone else he was hard and mean— but for you , he was soft.

“You need to give up this Y/N fantasy already.” Pope interrupted JJ’s thoughts by kicking his foot from underneath the table and earned an eye roll in return. “I’m serious. You’re acting creepy.”

John B couldn’t contain his laughter , nodding his head in agreement. “Yeah , dude. I thought you’d be over it by now but it’s been like a month and a half and all you do is stare at her.”

JJ sighed in irritation. His friends constantly gave him shit about him. Not that he could blame them. If it hadn’t have been him , he’d be giving either them the same amount of trouble over it.

Any other girl would’ve been fucked and discarded by now. He never focused on one girl for more than a week , let alone over a month. But there was something about you that always made him curious , wondering how innocent you truly were. You were beautiful , prim and proper. His crush had turned into something else inside of him— obsession at best. The way you hadn’t looked at anyone else , staying to yourself and your group of friends. The girl everyone wanted but couldn’t have. There was just something about you that caused his body to react a certain way it didn’t with the others he’d been with. Just the sound of your voice made his heart race , the little looks you’d give him sending shivers down his spine.

“Shut the fuck up and mind your business , alright?” JJ grumbled out.

“Look JJ , be realistic about this—” Pope started.

“Y/N’s a kook , okay? And not just any Kook. Like practically the Kook princess. I’m pretty sure she has Sarah Cameron beat by a long shot.” John B continued listening on the reasons. “You can’t stand Kooks and she’s like—” he glanced over at you , in your pretty pink sundress. “She’s like nice and you’re not all that nice.”

JJ narrowed his eyes at John B. “I’m nice to you.”

Pope chuckled. “Yeah barely. And that’s because you have to be or you’d be homeless. I have Chem with Y/N and John B’s right. She is pretty nice. You don’t like girls like that.” He thought back to all the girls JJ had been interested in the past and none had been like you. There were all same , a bit snippy and wild. Partying at the bonfires , sleeping with him the same breath. You weren’t like that and he’d rather be honest with JJ then have his friend hurt the good in you , regardless if you were a Kook or not.

“You guys need to just mind your fucking business.” JJ spat them , clearly fed up. They should’ve known better than to push at him— his anger always got the best of him in any situation. His chair scraped loudly as he stood up and yanked his bag from off the floor.

“JJ , c’mon man—” John B called after him , but it was too late. The only reminder that the blonde had even been in the cafeteria was the doors swinging closed behind him.

The commotion caught your attention. You watched as JJ briskly walked away from his friends , an unreadable expression painted on his face. Whatever conversation your friends were in now seemed like white noise to you , knawing on your bottom lip nervously.

It was JJ Maybank. The boy all the girls talked about in the locker room. Some of things you had heard , though , you had wished you hadn’t. You felt pervy when you listened in on certain conversations about how he was in bed , rough and fucking girls like a man scorned one too many times. And you knew he looked at you. Your friends would always gush about it , saying how lucky you were to have had his attention this long. Your parents knew of him , too. Nothing good ever leaving their mouth when a conversation involved him— your dad complaining about his trouble–maker lifestyle.

The inward war in your head seemed to come to a close when your body reacted before your brain did. Looking towards your friends you flashed them an innocent smile , claiming that you didn’t feel good and wanted to use the bathroom before the period ended. Brushing off their concerns , you grabbed your own schoolbag before rushing towards the door JJ had once walked through. Your eyes flickered around the halls to find him , only barely catching sight of his blonde hair rounding the corner.

Taking in a deep breath , you took it amongst yourself to follow behind him— your legs moving before your brain could think it through. “JJ!” His name fell off your lips easily , like it was something you had practiced in the mirror for days. The way his movements immediately stopped at the sound of you , looking over his shoulder to make sure it really was you. Starting to feel nervous , you swallowed anxiously while tightening your grip on the backpack straps. “I uh— well I saw—” you flushed red as you stammered.

His eyes on you this close , just a mere foot away seemed to cause more of a reaction than you thought. Beautiful even up close , the way his lashes dusted the apple of his cheeks seemed to entrance you more up close. He still held that cocky smirk though , pleased to see you had come looking after him. His reaction was practically stoic besides that , but you weren’t inside of his chest feeling the way his heart had started beating rapidly. “Yeah?” JJ drawled out , his voice teasing.

You cleared your throat as you tried speaking again. “Well you left in a hurry and I was just making sure you were okay.” You finally managed to breathe out trying your best to ignore how shaky it sounded.

You weren’t used to things like this. Feeling so worked up over a boy. Your whole demeanor had seemed to shift just slightly , and it pleased JJ to see. “Sweet little Y/N , like always.” He hummed.

You blushed at that. The name coming from JJ made your pulse quicken. “Yeah. . .” you managed to breathe. “I–I can go. I just , you know—”

“Were worried.” JJ finished for you , finding humor in the way you stumbled over words.

“Yeah.”

Silence seemed to begin to suffocate the two of you. Suddenly you felt warm , almost sweating with JJ’s eyes on you. Biting the inside of your cheek , your nervous habit , you tucked your hair away from your face. “I have to get back to my friends—”

“Okay.” Was all he said , still looking at you. Flushing red , you nodded awkwardly and slowly started moving to turn away. You silently cursed at yourself as you began to feel embarrassed.

Before you disappeared around the corner , you heard JJ’s voice once more. “Come to the Boneyard tonight. We’re throwing a party. Come.”

You hadn’t bothered turning back or even sparing another look. His words rang around in your head— the way he looked at you burned in the front of your memory , replaying the color of his eyes.

Parties weren’t your thing and they never really had been. Your parents didn’t like them much and the crowds always seemed to overwhelm you. And the idea of being at the Boneyard of all places. . .

But something in the way that your stomach bubbled and your heart hammered— told you to raid your closet and find something pretty to wear.

The night had come faster than neither you or JJ would’ve liked it to. You were a bundle of nerves. You had reapplied your lip gloss for what seemed like the hundredth time. And JJ just as equally on edge wondering if you’d even show up. As cool as he tried to play it , he knew it wasn’t cool. He wanted you there , to sneak you off somewhere to have you all to himself the way he had fantasized about. Too afraid of the chance of you not bothering to show up— though he couldn’t be too mad at you with the way he had invited you ( he wasn’t even sure you heard him ) , he hadn’t told the Pogue’s about it.

Wanting to play it safe rather than sorry.

Little did he know how determined you actually were. You picked out the prettiest thing in your closet , wanting to look your best. Paying attention to the littlest details , butterflies swirling in your stomach at the anticipation to see him. It seemed like a long time coming , anyway. Right? Your friends had noticed it before you had and at first , you weren’t sure to even bother. But JJ— JJ was different than all those other boys that tried it on with you. That’s all they seemed to be , boys. But JJ was more than that. You could tell in the way he carried himself. How closed off he was. There were things about him that nobody knew , things he had kept hidden about himself. Short sentences and broading shoulders , you knew there was more to him and your eagerness to know was foreign to you.

You had debated on calling one of your girlfriends to go with you. That’s what you had told your parents anyway. You knew they’d be furious with you if they found out where you really going , so you shrugged it off as just a get together with your girlfriends. Your excuse also allowed you to be out later than your normal curfew. Lying wasn’t something you liked to do and so you considered calling your friend— Jessie , to go with you but you didn’t feel like explaining it to her or anyone else for that matter.

Your mother allowed you to take her car and as you drove off towards The Cut , you did feel a little bad for your lie. The whole thing made you feel guilty and considered turning around and blowing the whole thing off , but the excitement you felt of seeing JJ again triumphed it.

You were a mess when you pulled up. You inwardly cursed yourself for the position you were in now. There was no way of finding JJ other than scouting through the crowds for the familiar color of his dirty blonde hair , hoping it wasn’t covered with a hat. Being by yourself made you feel open , and you fidgeted with your hands as you walked towards where everyone was— the sound of music booming on the beach helping you know where to go.

The moonlight illuminated your path just enough for your feet to hit the sand , the fire doing the rest. Your eyes flickered around to see any familiar face , but there was so many people. Red solo cups everywhere , the smell of weed making your nose crinkle. It wasn’t until now that you realized how in over your head you were.

Taking a deep breath , you gained the courage to move. You smiled at the people who glanced your way with wide eyes , not expecting to see you there. Sheepishly you waved , hoping to find someone you had at least more than one conversation with.

It took a bit of searching until you finally found someone. Pope Heyward.

He was JJ’s friend and the two of you had Chem together. Once even being partnered together. Taking a breath of relief , you politely pushed your way towards him , chewing harshly on the inside of your cheek. He hadn’t noticed you— not until you nervously approached in front of him.

When his eyes landed on you , his face went pale. He had to blink a couple of times to make sure it was really you. “Y/N?” He said your name confused , glancing around nervously. “What’re you doing here?” Pope asked but he had feeling he knew.

Pulling at your fingers you shrugged and tried to look around him to see if JJ was anywhere near. “It’s me.” You laughed lightly , flushing. “JJ invited me.”

“Oh!” He chuckled with eyes flickering around crazily. You cringed to yourself embarrassed and when Pope noticed , he quickly spoke again. “Not like a bad oh! Just a surprised oh. I didn’t think you came to things like this.” Pope explained himself.

“It’s okay , trust me I know.” You brushed it off to ease the tension between the two of you now , hoping it’d disperse. “But um— I don’t know.” You shrugged. “Wanted to see what it was like s’all.”

Pope nodded in understanding and wrapped an arm around your shoulders loosely , looking around again. He could tell you felt uncomfortable and wanted to make you feel a little better before finding JJ. “Did you come by yourself?” He asked , a bit of concern lacing his voice.

“Um , yeah.” You grimaced at how small you sounded but the look on Pope’s face made you feel a little better. “I figured I’d already know some people here and look— I found you.” You offered a grin , to which Pope gratefully returned.

“I’m sure JJ’ll be happy you’re here.” He assured you with a confirming nod.

He helped guide you through the mess of people towards the Kegs , and you spotted him. Your stomach fluttering at the sight of him. He wore his usual white t–shirt though it was a little more tighter than you were used to seeing. It hugged his biceps well and the sight made your legs feel like jelly. A backwards hat on top of his head. He was laughing giddily with John B and a couple other friends , his arm around his friend shoulders.

John B spotted the two of you first. His eyes widened just like Pope’s had and he quickly nudged JJ’s shoulder obnoxiously , pointing towards the two of you.

When JJ looked over and saw you , he couldn’t help but the accomplished smile that took over his face. His eyes scanned you slowly , not bothering to hide how he was checking you out. You were still wearing his favorite— a pretty little sundress , in the color light pink this time. He almost groaned at the sight. The night sky did you justice , drawing attention to the highlights of your face , the plumpness of your lips. He found you to be the most beautiful he had ever seen you.

“There’s no fucking way.” John B mumbled as you approached them obviously anxious as you smiled.

“What’d you know.” JJ spoke up , grinning at you. “The Kook Princess actually came.”

The name he used for you made you flush but you roll your eyes all the same. Trying to play it cool , you simply shrugged and looked around. “Thought I’d see what the hype was all about s’all.”

JJ threw his head back in laughter. Knowingly. “Of course you did. Well—” he threw his arms up and gestured towards the atmosphere. “Thoughts?”

“It’s alright.” You hummed and turned your attention towards John B who was watching the interaction with his jaw slacked open. “Hi John B.”

“H–Hey.” He stuttered in surprised. “I can’t even lie right now I’m fucking shocked to see you here , Y/N.”

Closing your eyes in a bit of frustration , you nodded slowly. “So I’ve been told. Twice.” You emphasized the word.

“Right.”

Rocking back and forth on your heels , JJ dropped his arm and walked closer to you. You looked up at him through fluttering lashes coated in mascara , the blush you wore drawing attention the way the smell of his cologne made you flush. “Want a drink?”

Looking back at the keg , you shook your head timidly. “Any water?”

“Inside.” JJ told you. Without wanting he reached down and grabbed your hand , pulling you towards you and away from Pope. “Catch you guys later.” He said , pulling you in the direction of the Chateau.

His hand in yours was like salt and ice. It burned so bad but in a way that made your breathing hitch and mind become hazy. You liked it. Ring clad fingers squeezing your own.

“I didn’t think you’d come.” JJ admitted as the two of you walked in the kitchen. You leaned against the counter and watched as he moved towards the fridge. “Didn’t think it was your scene.”

“It’s not.” You quipped. The smirk on his face making you squirm. “Like I said , I was curious.”

JJ chuckled and walked towards you again. Just like in the hallway , his attention attentively on you as you shifted foot to foot. Handing you the water bottle you reached for it , fingers grazing his making you gasp lightly. Blushing you cleared your throat. “Cold.”

Your reaction to him made his chest feel big. The way you were squirming around trying to act all confident when JJ knew you weren’t. Humming to himself , he stepped towards you closer. One arm leaning on the counter your back was using , the other reaching out to touch your necklace. Your breathing hitched once again , caught in your throat as his hands danced on your skin lightly. Barely touching but just enough to make you feel it.

“You look pretty.”

The sentence was simple and sweet. Something you had heard a thousand times before. But hearing it come from JJ made you feel different. It made your stomach bubble and the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. You hadn’t even noticed how hot the tips of your ears were starting to get. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

You almost laughed how the situation mirrored the one from this morning. Cocking your head to the side , you decided to speak up again. “Do you like me?” The question slipped before you meant it to and you instantly regretted it. JJ’s face didn’t falter though , instead his face only looked amused.

“Why do you ask?” He was teasing you now. His tone of voice showing it off.

“Well— well because! My friends always catch you looking at me in school and sometimes when I’m in the library it looks like you’re going to talk to me but you never do and— and you invited me here.” You squeezed your eyes shut in pure embarrassment. Your cheeks were surely flamed red and you were positive you sounded like an idiot.

JJ softened at your expression.

“You’re right.” He started watching as you slowly peeled your eyes open to look at him. “I do all those things and I do it because—” pausing he tried to figure out what to say. JJ did like you , alot. But you were fragile and delicate , the prettiest flower out of a whole entire garden. And as much as he wanted to pick you and keep you forever , he couldn’t stand to be the reason you wilted. For the first time that JJ could ever remember , he didn’t want to hurt you. “I like you , Y/N—” his words barely above a whisper.

“But. . .” you guessed.

“But you’re you and I’m me. You’re everything good in this world and I don’t want to go corrupt that.” Selfishly he did , but he wouldn’t— couldn’t , be selfish when it came to you.

You paused to look at him. Searching his face for any sign of anything other than him being truthful. You were quick to find that there was nothing there. He was being genuine and your heart lurched at that , speeding up like crazy. You knew it was insane. The idea of you and him. You knew he was violent , and a player and just the type of boy your mother always told you to stay away from.

Shamefully , you weren’t strong enough to walk despite all the facts spelled out in front of you.

“I like you , too.” You said carefully. Studying him as you spoke. He hung on to every word , absentmindedly leaning in a bit closer each second. “That’s enough for now.”

Your words made his eyes flutter closed. His forehead leaned against yours as you felt every sense in your body overload. Goosebumps rising.

“For now.” He let out breathily.

It would be enough. For now.

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dimepdf · 1 year ago

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★ 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐀𝐋𝐏𝐇𝐀𝐁𝐄𝐓. + 𝐌𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐄𝐋 𝐎'𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀

masterlist. / taglist. / tip jar. synopsis. miguel o’hara and the nsfw alphabet challenge.

─── ☆ notes. anyone got a slime tutorial link to the new movie yet? . | — feedback is always welcomed & don't forget to reblog 🤍

─── ☆ length. 1.5k (11 min read).

A= Aftercare (what they’re like after the act)

Miguel isn’t the type to wind down that quickly, but he is extremely considerate of your feelings and well-being, most of the time he’s making sure you're okay. Especially since the last thing he ever wants is to make you seem unwanted after having sex with him.

That being said, it did take him a while to get used to the whole cuddling and comfort thing. You swear, at the beginning of your relationship, it was like trying to hug one big bear, but as you two spent more time together, he started to crave just having you wrapped in his arms and listening to your heartbeat every now and then.

B= Body part (favorite body part their own or their lovers)

He could go on and on about how much he loves every part of you; seriously, you could tell because of how much he cannot keep his hands off of you, but realistically, his answer in the back of his mind is your mouth and thighs. He’s so down bad.

Whenever you try talking to him, you always catch him staring at your lips like he’s just starving to kiss you. It's the same situation with your thighs as well. Sometimes you would be standing around the house in the mind of a conversation and suddenly feel Miguel’s fingers groping the plush of your thighs, gawking at your legs like he has no home training.

C= Cum (anything that has to do with it)

Oh brother, this man is a mess in the head, he loves, I mean loves, to see you covered in his cum: facials, creampies, you name a place on your body for him to cum on, and he’ll do it with pleasure.

There’s just something about seeing your soft brown skin painted with traces of him all over your body, especially when he would cum inside you. His favorite thing to do is spread your legs and watch it spill out, only to push it all back in and give you another load.

D= Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory)

Miguel is a very pent-up possessive man, no matter what he does, he just can't get enough of you, which leaves him feeling extremely needy whenever you're gone or just don't feel in the mood. He would just jack off at the thought of you to relieve himself.

E= Experience (do they know what they’re doing)

You had expected him to come from around the entire block from the easy he would pick you up and fuck you, but surprisingly, Miguel only really had a handful of partners in his past—nothing too extreme.

F= Favorite position

He says he isn't really picky, yet somehow you always end up with your stomach pressed against some surface. Most of the time he sees no point in containing himself, plus weight isn't really an issue on his behalf. Whenever your legs give out from standing, he’ll just pick your ass up as if you weighed absolutely nothing and keep the same pace.

G= Goofy (how serious are they)

He likes to completely mirror your emotions or help you ease up more. He's very big on paying attention to the smallest detail, so if you're someone who feels a little anxious or nervous, no matter how many times you two have had sex, he needs to break that broadening act to crack a few dry jokes or shower you in compliments to make you feel more comfortable.

H= Hair (grooming habits)

This man is covered in dark hair from chest to toe. He doesn't really find the amount of body hair alarming, but he doesn't like to upkeep his pubic hair a bit, especially giving himself a trim whenever he wears his spider suit. He just doesn't really care that much to shave it all off, but if you asked him too, he wouldn't mind much.

I= Intimacy (in the moment romantic or rough/dirty)

He’s pretty reluctant to be overly smothering, with his inmate moments just coming out of the blue, especially with his cold attitude. Most of the time, when you think he’s tense, he’ll switch, turn around, and start praising you. Sometimes he doesn't realize it, but most of the time it's always after he feels like he went a bit too far with degrading you, so he switches up just to even it all out with praise and saying how good you make him feel while holding eye contact.

J= Jack off (do they masturbate and how often)

Miguel just has the habit of stressing himself out all the damn time, and half of the time it's always over him being too worked up. Whenever he has a moment alone and you just can't be there, he likes to turn to his memory of you to help work off some of his tension.

K= Kink (kinks what they like possibly unusual)

Marking. I’m talking biting, scratches, hickeys, and God forbid Miguel sees the fingerprint bruises forming on your hips after he lets you ride him. Just the thought of having traces of him all over you makes that possessive switch in him go haywire.

Size kink. He’s a big guy through and through, and no matter what, he makes sure to remind you of your size difference. Blessed tall and broad, standing next to you, he’s practically a brick wall with the audacity to have a big dick.

Eye contact. Dear Lord, you better hope you laid down in one of his favorite positions and he hasn't fucked the common sense out of you by the time you're about to cum because Miguel will twist you like a hot pretzel and have you begging like your life depended just to hear you say his name and while you look into his eyes.

L= Location (where they like to get it on)

Anywhere with privacy and on every surface he could reach—floor, wall, upside—doing the splits, Miguel damn near used webs to find a way to have you against him.

M= Motivation (things that makes them tick/turn ons)

Miguel will get turned on by the smallest of things: you stretching near him, you wearing his clothes, you looking at him, you saying his name in a certain way, you, you, you. It's like he has brain rot, and you're all he can think about.

But he also likes it when you get angry or annoyed with him; there's just something about you snapping at him and trying to put him in his place that gets him going.

N= No (turn offs or absolutely won’t do)

Pegging, piss and poop.

O= Oral (receiving or giving and how skillful they are)

He loves giving more than receiving, mostly because he prefers it. There’s just something about teasing and edging you until you can't handle it anymore that leaves him wanting to lay you back and spread you open for hours on end.

But if you're offering, it's completely your loss. Miguel loves sitting back and watching you struggle trying not to gag or fit him entirely down your throat; either way, it's a free show for him.

P= Pace (how fast they are and how long they last in bed)

Whenever he’s feeling less merciful and wants to spice things up from the usual fucking you until your lace sweats off type sex, he loves to just see how long he can push you to the edge (which is a lot more days than you’d like to think), and he will be petty and take it super slow just to see your body twitch and squirm for more of his attention.

Q= Quickie (do they prefer fast and hard)

Even if you're the one offering quickies, it always ends up with you having to reschedule your plans.

R= Risk (do they like to try new things)

He’s open to new ideas but never really offers any himself. Miguel completely trusts you and is willing to do whatever you want for your pleasure, but just know that nothing at the end of the day will get him off but you.

S= Stamina (how many times they can go and how long each round lasts)

You have to remind him most times that you don't have the same enhanced superhuman abilities as he does. No matter how many times he tries to make you cum in just one night. You swear sometimes it's like you're fighting for your fucking life just to catch one five-minute break.

T= Toys (are they game for using sex toys on themselves or lovers)

Is the type to feel a bit insulted if you ever mentioned having one or using one until you would regret offering him to use a vibrater on you. Like you handed a murder a knife the moment he found your rose toy and figured out how to use it.

U= Unfair (how do they tease or do they enjoy suspense themselves)

There is no sex without a bit of teasing with Miguel; he definitely pushes you a lot just to get a reaction out of you normally, so doing it in bed only comes naturally to him, and if you're not begging, he ain't giving.

V= Volume (are they loud, what sounds, and do they talk)

He does not shut the fuck up! You will hear him, whether it's grunting on top of you, raspy whimpering in your ear, or talking you through it. Miguel is very vocal, just not as loud with his moans since he prefers to hear yours instead.

W= Wild card (random sin cannon of any sort)

Has absolutely no issues with letting you ride him with the suit on.

X= X-ray (what’s down below in dem pants)

Slightly less tanned than his skin tone, with a slight curve to the left, and too girthy for his own good.

Y= Yearning (sex drive level)

Surprisingly, not that high, especially since he isn't a really big PDA person and the only time he ever gets worked up is in the comfort of privacy.

Z= Zzzz (do they sleep after if so how quickly after)

Sometimes you have to trick him into falling asleep with you. Dude has really bad insomnia, but having you all cuddled up next to him really helps with his shit sleeping schedule.

🔖 ...

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#[ ⇢ ˗ˏˋ ★ — t.wrks. ]#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara smut #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman 2099 #spiderman #spiderman smut #marvel #into the spider verse

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01zfan · 9 months ago

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Can you do a story where the female reader is getting backshots from shotaro and his members walk in and see you naked?

rushed | o. st

idol!shotaro x reader | 2.8k words

contains: sneaking around, backshots, getting caught

you rarely got to see shotaro. separate lives kept you apart more days than you would like to admit, and time always felt like it was slipping away when you were with him.

it was also increasingly hard to get him alone, always surrounded by his bandmates. you couldn’t blame shotaro or his team, they were only doing their job most of the time. you knew it wasn’t your place to ask them to clear out their shared dorm so you could have alone time with your boyfriend. unplanned alone time became a luxury, and you two treated it as such.

it was a shame that time always felt like it was fleeting when you got shotaro alone. you two never knew when someone else would walk through the door, or when shotaro would get called to go to practice. the fleeting time made you two act like hormonal teenagers no matter where you were. time was of the essence, you two had to do whatever you couldn’t do in front of others as fast as possible. this meant dry humping on that black couch in the studio in the middle of the night, or shotaro pressing your body against the glass in the practice room early morning before everyone else arrived. making out the second you two were alone became a habit, lips instantly attaching and hands grasping at the other the second no one else was around.

there were several close calls when you guys would fool around. it didn’t help that you two would get so caught up in the moment you forgot there’s other people in the world, too. you remember pushing shotaro to the floor when someone almost caught you two making out on the in a lounge room. you were laid on your back while shotaro kissed your neck, rubbing his hands up and down your arms. shotaro was no help, he was awful at paying attention to his surroundings in these situations. shotaro’s only thoughts were filled with you, the way your skin was so soft and how he hasn’t had the chance to kiss you in so long. he thought it was criminal he didn’t get any alone time with his girlfriend, sometimes he cursed the life he chose because it kept him away from you. shotaro was taking his time when you saw the blurry figure of someone through the frosted glass of the door. before the knob was turned the same hands that were pulling shotaro closer to you pushed him backwards by the shoulders. he launched to the other side of the sofa and you grabbed your phone that was previously forgotten on the coffee table.

poor anton was subjected to seeing you two pretend like the obvious wasn’t so obvious. you looked to the anton and then followed anton’s eyes to shotaro’s mussed hair and wrinkled shirt. your boyfriend wasn’t only bad at listening for people coming, but also terrible at acting nonchalant. shotaro had a shocked expression on his face and was frozen in place on the couch. you were also frazzled, but atleast you had the sense to pretend like you were looking at your phone. anton saw right through your act though, especially because you looked just as disheveled as shotaro.

“just here for the vending machine.” anton said.

you three were forced to bask in the awkward atmosphere as anton walked to the machine. anton took his sweet time, going over the options a million times like it was his first time seeing the machine. you couldn’t see anton’s face but you’re sure he was smiling, making you two suffer through the consequences of your actions.

“you like cola right, anton?” shotaro said.

now you were trying to hold back your laugh at shotaro ver yclearly trying to rush anton out of the room.

“i love cola.” anton said, holding back a laugh.

the soda dropping from the vending machine was the only sound in the room. anton slowly walked to the door and opened the soda, making an obnoxious sound after taking a sip. with his hand on the door, anton cast a look backwards.

“you two lovebirds have fun.” anton said giggling.

after that incident, you and shotaro became more careful. you set rules in place to avoid having to bear through another awkward moments like that one. only kissing on the lips was allowed in public places with no locks on the doors. no more grinding, no more shotaro putting a quick hand in your pants in shared spaces or you giving him hickeys in spots his shirts covered.

because of this, you two hadn’t gone beyond chaste kisses for nearly two weeks. it had gotten to the point that you thought you were going to die if you weren’t able to get him alone soon. your prayers were ironically answered when shotaro got sick. it wasn’t anything serious, something similar to a simple cold. so close to the comeback it was important for shotaro to quarantine from his group so it didn’t spread.

you won’t believe this, but i’m all alone in the dorms right now.

you nearly fell over when you saw that text. you had never been somewhere so fast in your life, getting to the dorms in record time. shotaro did seem a little sick when he opened the door, but your need for him outweighed the risk of getting sick.

shotaro couldn’t even close the door before your lips were on his. you had to shut the door with your foot as you continued to kiss shotaro, moving backwards towards his bedroom. you two made a mess in the space between the door and shotaro’s room. things were pushed off of the tiny table beside the couch as shotaro leaned you against it. being able to lean against the piece of furniture gave you the ability to wrap your leg around shotaro’s waist, pulling him into you.

“someone is eager.” shotaro laughed before going to kiss your neck.

he was mocking you but just as depraved. you could feel his hardening dick press against your heat. your rushed hands made quick work of your shirt. you had strategically chosen a button up so you wouldn’t have to waste time pulling a shirt over your head.

“how long do we have?” you asked.

you contemplated letting your boyfriend fuck you then and there on that tiny table, or moving it to the couch. but if time allotted, you wanted to fuck him properly on his bed.

“an hour atleast. my medicine is across town.” shotaro said.

you push shotaro lightly by the shoulders, getting off of the table.

“let’s go to your room then.” you say.

shotaro basically runs to his while you laughing at him. all signs of shotaro’s being sick is gone as he undresses himself at the speed of light. shotaro doesn’t even bother to take off his shirt before he pulls you to the bed with him. you both giggle as he helps you out of your clothes. he kisses the exposed body that he hasn’t gotten the chance to kiss in so long.

“look who’s the eager one now.” you laugh.

shotaro is still giggles as he trails kisses up and down your body. you laugh when he hits a ticklish place and gasp when he bites you slightly. all the kisses are wet and melt into your skin.

“how do you want it?” shotaro asks.

he has to look up at you from your thigh, the place where he left an already forming hickey. shotaro hopes that you get the hint of him being so close to your heat that you let him eat you out. you want nothing more than that, feeling his sloppy wet kisses on your folds and his fingers on your clit. but you know that shotaro has the tendency to get carried away while tasting you, and you won’t be able to stop him once he starts. you also know that you need it rough and fast before time slips away and you don’t think you can go another day without feeling him inside of you. so you sit up on the bed as shotaro follows your every move.

“can you do it from the back?” you ask.

“of course.” shotaro says.

he leads you to your hands and knees and you sink into your arch while shotaro helps you, spreading your legs a little wider so he can slot himself between them. before you reach for his pillow shotaro stops you by placing a soft smack to your ass. he swipes his dick between your folds, collecting the slick that’s there. you let out a tiny gasp feeling him.

“i need to hear you baby.” shotaro says.

you had become so accustomed to hiding your mewls and moans into shotaro’s pillows and blankets that it had become second nature to grab a muffler for. your cries. but you were alone, so you let out a tiny whine as you could hear shotaro pumping his length.

“that’s my girl.” shotaro said.

his other hand goes to the small of your back, pressing down slightly. anticipation builds over your body as you wait for shotaro. just when you think he’s about to put it in he rests on his haunches. he puts two fingers inside of you and you moan and push your ass back. shotaro gives you another smack to keep you in place as he fucks you with his fingers.

“taro.” you whine breathlessly.

you are so desperate this alone has you on edge. shotaro places a kiss to your ass cheek and sucks on the skin. you can hear the lewd sounds of his fingers in your clit and he breaks away from your ass cheek with a lewd pop.

“gotta stretch you out. but you’re so wet it won’t be a problem right?” shotaro says.

you can hear the smirk in his voice as he adds in a third finger. you don’t care if he’s teasing you or if he wants you to beg. you will give him whatever he wants if that means he’ll fuck you. you shake your head into the mattress and you clench around his fingers.

“shotaro please put it in.” you cry out.

shotaro withdraws his fingers and gets up from the back of his legs. he gives your ass gentle pats, watching the recoil of your ass.

“patience baby.” shotaro says

shotaro uses the same that was inside of your to guide his dick to your entrance. he moves his hand from his dick to your ass to spread you out further. your hands grip the sheets of the bed when you can feel him prodding past your folds.

you let out a prolonged whine as shotaro slowly sinks into you. the way he has you spread makes you feel him more and guides him in deeper. you are both lost in the feeling, shotaro takes the bottom of his shirt into his mouth for a better view. he keeps you still when he sinks all the way in, loving the feeling of your squirm and clench around his length. you can’t believe how cruel the world was, keeping you from feeling this for so long. shotaro pulls out all the way before sliding back in just as slow. he takes off his shirt, his body becoming too hot feeling you clamp around him

“i missed this pussy so much.” shotaro said.

he looks at your face, half of it pressed into the mattress. the half shotaro can see is contorted in pleasure, lips slightly open as little sounds escape you. he needs to find time in his life to fuck you slow and steady so he can kiss your eyebrow kisses as he draws sounds from you. but right now, there’s an carnal need in him to fuck you fast before something interrupts him.

“can i go fast baby?” shotaro asks sweetly. “we are running out of time.”

you free one of your fists from the sheets and reach a hand backwards for shotaro to hold. he grabs it without hesitation.

“please.” you say.

that’s all shotaro needs before he pulls out his length and thrusts it back into you. you begging lit a fire inside of him, breathed a new vigor into his hips. his skin slaps against your ass as he fucks you from the back. his hand gives you stability, to the point you start pushing your hips back to meet his.

“oh my god.” you cry into the bed.

“i know. you feel so good.” shotaro groans. his words are accented with rough thrusts and almost drowned out by skin colliding. he adds another smack to your ass and picks up speed. “i can’t get enough.”

“don’t stop.” you say.

you clench onto his hand before moving your grip to his bicep. shotaro uses his strength to pull your upper body up from the bed, and you place a hand on the headboard to support your body. you can feel yourself getting close, sensitive from days of no contact. you curse yourself for not being able to hold on a little longer, but maybe shotaro will be a little mean and keep fucking as your orgasm takes over your body. your chest bounces from the force of the thrust and you feel shotaro’s hand that was on your ass reach underneath your extended arm to grab your breast. he kneads the supple skin in his hand. his thrusts remain consistent, fucking you in a steady but fast pace.

“can’t stop when i’m in this pussy.” shotaro says. “so tight it won’t let me go.”

everything about you is so soft. your breast is soft in shotaro’s hand, the skin of your ass that smacks against his pelvis is like a pillow, and your gummy walls bring shotaro relief from everyday life. he wishes he could tell you about all the things he loves about you, how badly he wished he had a day alone with you to make up for his absence. but he can barely form a vocal thought as you whine to him.

“i’m close.” you whimper.

“i got you.” shotaro grunts

you let go of shotaro’s bicep and he lets you go. you lower your hand from the headboard and go back to your original position. shotaro takes handfuls of your ass to spread your cheeks and lifts his leg up. this has you nearly screaming out grabbing onto anything you can find.

shotaro is desperate, trying to get you to cum as soon as possible. his stamina always comes in handy in situations like these. he admires how your body quickly reacts to his tempo changes and how deep he goes. its like you were made for him the way you clench around him perfectly.

between shotaro’s thrusts and you clamping around him, neither of you are paying attention to the outside world. your moans had turned into whimpers and pants, so entrancing that shotaro doesn’t hear the door open. you don’t hear sungchan asking where the hell the mess came from or footsteps coming towards shotaro’s closed door.

what you do hear is the door open and eunseok’s loud oh my god and sohee yelling out loud. it happens too quickly, shotaro pulling out of you and grabbing the covers to hide your naked body. you quickly turn your body to face the door, seeing seunghan cover sohee’s eyes and anton’s jaw to the floor. next thing you know you’re yelling too, from the pure embarrassment of six guys walking in on you naked and exposed.

“what are you guys doing here?” shotaro asks bewildered.

he’s lucky his boxers were still on the bed. you don’t know when shotaro put them back on, you bring the sheets up to cover your eyes. you still continue to yell from the pure shock of the moment.

“we brought you soup and your medicine. is this why you wanted us to get it from the place across town?” sungchan asks.

he sounds as bewildered as shotaro, not believing the sight in front of him. you slowly bring the sheets down from your eyes to see the six men still frozen in the doorway. even shotaro is still on the bed, trying to process everything

“please get out.” you screech.

this pulls everyone out of their trance, suddenly aware of you being completely naked underneath the sheets. they bump into eachother trying to back out of the room, someone at one point even falling down. they apologize profusely to you, saying they didn’t know.

even when shotaro’s door closes you dont emerge from underneath the covers. you stay there mumbling over and over again how traumatized you are. shotaro finds a little bit of humor in the situation cooing at you while he hugs you over the blanket.

“did you cum?” shotaro asks sarcastically.

you emerge from the sheets for only a second to hit him with a pillow before going back under.

#requestz #blurbz #shotaroz #01zfan: shotaro #shotaro smut #riize smut

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threepandas · 5 months ago

Text

Your Biggest Fan: Villian/Yandere Izuku

You Ruined His Plan.

No one was supposed to CARE. They NEVER care. NEVER ask questions. They look, at the red shoes, the note, then shrug it all off. Just another statistic. One more gone, of an already "dying breed".

The Quirkless had been a "dying breed" for a while now.

He bet they didn't even know where that phase came from. It was WAR propaganda. Quirkless population numbers were supposed to level out a decade ago, according to estimates. But noooo! They kept DROPPING!

Dropping, Dropping, DROPPING!

Like notebooks and little boys off roof tops.

No Heroes coming to save them. Smiles for everyone ELSE. Just burns and bad grades they didn't earn, ruined lunches and funeral flowers on desks. Kicking and kicking and PUNCHS until they break! Until they fight back. Until THEY are the problem. THEY are the monsters!

Dreams destroyed and online friends who go silent.

Funerals. Mothers who cry but don't protect you.

ANGER and where are the HEROES?

Here... apparently.

She is... she is standing HERE. Arms crossed. Mouth in a furious line as she listens to the principal spew his excuses. She does not look like she believes a single one. Does not look sympathetic or dismissive in the least.

The disgusting trash around her isn't used to it. Are slowly beginning to sweat. Panic. It is beginning to dawn on them... that there could be CONSEQUENCES for their actions. Their criminal neglect and cruel allowances.

She looks disgusted. Furious. And... when she glances at the supposed last words of Hanako-chan? Utterly heartbroken. She stands, feet planted, shoulders back, as she argues and pulls rank. Threatening to ARREST even the police officers THEMSELVES unless they DO THEIR JOBS.

As is her RIGHT. Because this is not JUSTICE. Nor Vengance. But can bring, at least, closure to the soul of a little girl wronged. Prevent others from harm. And she stands as a shield against that harm. It is her JOB, her DUTY, and so help her, if she must hunt each and every one of them down and HAND DELIVER them to a cell? She WILL.

She stands there, in the cold afternoon light, like...

Like A Hero!

He has to slap both his hands over his mouth. To stop his dreadful muttering habit from escaping again. He... he hasn't found anything INTERESTING enough to mutter about in so LONG. Gotten out of the habit of controlling it. His control is shot. And... and OH~!

Ever since Kacc-... Since All Mi... THEM. He hasn't... hasn't BELIEVED in Heros like he used too. He WANTED too! He did! But...? It was like it just... died inside him. Slowly. Painfully. Screaming.

It HURT.

It hurt so, so much. Everything was angry and grey and TERRIBLE. B...But? But! BUT NOW? It's like a giddy spark of light has struck a match inside the empty cavern inside him, lighting up the massive caves where his belief once lived. I..It's so small and fragile. So WARM.

He scrambles back. Hands pressed to his mouth, eyes shut tight, uncaring of the rough brick he's pressed too as he slides to the wet ground. It scrapes him up. But what's a few more scrapes amongst the rest? He's always hurt. It's his life. It's ALL their lives.

He breathes. Savors the fragile warmth in his chest.

"Hey, are you okay?" That voice. No, no it can't be... his eyes shoot open. Startled he looks up. Directly... into... a.. mask.. "You're looking pretty banged up. My Quirk doesn't have many medical uses, so unless you think you've cracked a bone or something, I hope you're good with band-aids. Fair warning though. All the Froppy one's are already gone. Kid's LOVE frogs."

It IS. His Hero. THE Hero. She must have finished up. Noticed him somehow. Sloppy...

Ah!

Already kneeling, she gently takes his hand. Is already pulling out a medical kit from her thigh pouch. He spots "good job!" Stickers and a few lollipops. He... he has QUESTIONS. For the first time in YEARS. Who is she? What school did she go too? What Quirk does she have? Where does she work out off?

Why did she CARE?

Is it a one off? Would she care AGAIN? Her hands are firm but gentle. She keeps him "distracted". Asking him inane questions to take his mind off his pain. Kind. So KIND~! He manages to get her Hero name before she goes. Sends her off with a smile that hurts his face. Reminds him how many years it's BEEN since he's truely grinned.

He races home. Fingers flying on his phone. His lieutenant can deal with Hanako. Get her settled with her new family. He... he NEEDS too... TOO-!

He SLAMS his shoebox of an apartment open, ignoring the bellowed demands and insults of the filth that live around him. It's only muscle memory that has him locking the dozen locks behind him, to keep out the scum that would attempt to prey upon him.

He... he NEEDS-!

Where?!

There!!!

His "work" laptop. So bleeding edge I-island will be cursing their own bigotry for centuries. If only out of GREED. They don't know what they've lost by turning down those engineers and applicants. But Izuku does. He collects them ALL.

And now it pays off once again.

It take less then a moment. Easier then breathing. And he has EVERYTHING.

Her arrests records. Her case load. Her school records and medical files. Social media. Current audio book. Hero ranking, media presence, the chatter about Her online. EVERYTHING.

It's... it's beautiful.

A "troublemaker" who wouldn't shut up about the injustice she saw around her. Wouldn't stand for it. Got into fights to protect the weak and defenseless. Helped where she could. It put her on the wrong side of the narrative. When she wouldn't shut up about how everything WASN'T fine and what those in power were doing was WRONG.

She was a child, they were not. She HAD the option to shut up and pick her own future over the well being of those around her.

She chose to be a HERO instead.

Like... Like HIM. She was robbed of her DREAM. Of going to UA. The future she wanted, she fought for, needed like AIR.

But... but Aaah~♡ she was so COOL! Didn't give up! She sued. Made a RACKET. And when it got her record wiped but not her chance to enter any Japanese Hero school reinstated? She took the winnings from her lawsuit, her parents reluctant consent, and WENT ABROAD.

Came BACK with a hero license that the Japanese government had to recognize as per international accords. Let her take the final test HERE.

They BURIED her in the rankings. Must HATE her. A real hero, come to SHAME THEM for all they've become~♡ Or, well, HE thinks she will. How can she NOT? When she is so much BETTER?

He needs everything. Bedspread, pillows, posters, sweaters, slippers, MERCH! There's not enough. He should commission some. Where are his notebooks? Ah, no. He needs a NEW one! A better notebook! Oh! Oh! He could COMMISSION a notebook! Oh that's PERFECT!

He may have just met her today?

But he can already TELL~ He's gonna be her NUMBER 1 fan!

#threepandas #yandere #yandere bnha #yandere mha #biggest fan au #yandere izuku midoriya #villian izuku #villain deku #izuku x reader #izuku midoriya #bnha deku #deku x reader #tw sui implied #but not really #kiddo is fine #shes actually getting ice-cream with her new adopted parents #who love her and desperately wanted kids but couldnt have any #hero reader #your biggest fan au

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bloatedandalone04 · 2 years ago

Text

Everything I Didn’t Say

➪the one where you leave and leon lets you.

Warnings: no spoilers for re4 remake, angst, mentions of infidelity, ada being a sneaky b!tch, this is pure angst, mentions of blood, mentions of trauma, mentions of death, abuse, toxic relationships, abusive relationships, swearing

Word Count: 2.7k

Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine <3

Leon’s leg had not stopped bouncing since you walked out the door of your shared apartment. That was nearly an hour ago and he hadn’t moved from his spot on the couch, where his elbows pressed to his knees and his hands pressed against his mouth.

He stared at the coffee table, and more specifically, at the small box that he placed on it just a few seconds after you left.

How had things become this screwed up? How did he let you slip away? Why didn’t he try to stop you when you fled the apartment with nothing but tears in your eyes?

You didn’t even take your phone in your rush to get away from him. He found that out when he entered the communal area of the apartment and looked all over for you before deciding to just call you. Your phone went off and it was then he realised that you had left it on the kitchen counter.

That was when he disappeared back into your shared room and rummaged around in his drawers for the box he bought six months ago. It was a month later when he made, he was sure, the biggest mistake of his life.

Leon needed information that only few had, one being a person he wanted to keep in his past forever. Somehow everything always came back to Ada, as frustrating as it was, and that was how he found himself tracking her down.

Turns out she was in the area and was more than willing to give Leon the information….but not without a cost. And the cost was the one thing he swore he would never involve in this part of his life. You.

She didn’t threaten you or anything, but she did insist on him partaking in things that would surely ruin your relationship. Fast forward to now and those things came back to bite him. Hard.

The sound of the door opening tore him out of his thoughts and instantly his eyes were on you. He turned his head and watched as you entered the apartment and closed the door behind you, fiddling with your fingers as you avoided eye contact.

You stand by the door for a few seconds, debating on turning right back around and leaving again, or just getting this over with. One sharp intake of breath later had you slowly walking over to Leon. He didn’t dare move or open his mouth to apologize as he watched you with guilty eyes, afraid that you would leave him again if he were to ambush you with all the thoughts that ran through his head in the last hour.

He missed you.

He was terrified that you wouldn’t come back to him.

He loved you more than life itself.

He needed you. And it scared him.

He never allowed himself to rely on others as he had been betrayed too many times to count, but he quickly gave that rule up when he met you. Not only did he rely on you to be his escape from the cruel, bad world, but he also relied on you to be the one person he trusted the most, the one person who would never turn their back to him.

Yet here you were, hesitating to sit beside him. How did things go so wrong?

You swallow harshly and sit next to him, placing your hands on your lap as you glance at the small box on the table. It was obvious what it was and you had to look away quickly before you ran away again.

Leon hadn’t been able to take his eyes off you, and the traces of tears still on your face did nothing to calm his racing heart. He refrained from reaching out to you and feeling the sense of comfort you always provided him. Instead, his leg came to a stop and he turned his body to face yours. “I didn’t know if you were coming back,” he said, not surprised at how unsteady his voice sounded.

You kept your eyes on the floor as you picked at the skin around your nails. It was a habit you had grown out of since you met Leon as he was somehow able to calm your nerves and take away the feeling of anxiety you dealt with on a daily basis.

His eyes narrowed as you inhaled sharply, your index finger moving to cover the small cut you had just made from pulling too hard at the skin of your thumb. He hadn’t seen you like this in months, so tense and uncomfortable. He hated that he was the reason you slipped back into old habits.

You pressed your finger harder against the cut, attempting to stop the small flow of blood as you answered him, “I didn’t want to,” you still refused to meet his eyes and that, along with your words, was enough to have his heart beat faster at the very real fact that he was losing you. You were slipping away and he was powerless to do anything about it. “I wanted to run away, go back to how I was before I met you. I wanted to feel somewhat normal after what happened….what you told me.”

Leon closed his eyes at that and turned his head away. Those were the words he never wanted to hear you say. Your life before him was terrible and you were running on pure adrenaline half the time, unsure if you would even still be alive when tomorrow came. The way your life was before…you were barely living. And he saved you.

He showed you that the feeling of abandonment you felt everyday was no way to live, and he filled in every hole that had formed in your heart. The one from your parents leaving you, the one from when your ex-boyfriend put his hands on you too many times to count, the one from when your best friend drank too much one night and decided to drive home anyway.

He took every ounce of pain you had and made it dissolve until it was a distant memory. The pain was replaced with happiness, love, want, desire. He never let you go through life alone - not if he could help it, anyway. Even on the days he was called away for work, the weeks you went without hearing a word from him were bearable as he left you with the assurance that he was coming back and he always would. And you understood.

You were his entirely. His person, his reason to keep fighting, his reason to never give up. You were and always will be the love of his life, and nothing anyone could ever do would change that.

Even his own fuck up wouldn’t change that.

“Y/n,” he said, not missing the way you tensed up even more at the way he said your name. “I’m so sorry.”

He wanted to say so much more but he had no idea where you two stood. He had never in his life felt more powerless, so out of control to the point where he was resisting the urge to pull his hair out. Did he even deserve to beg for a second chance? For you to allow him to explain what happened?

Leon had never felt more ashamed.

You finally look over at him, sadness overflowing in your eyes as you ignore his words. “So, every night you said you were with Chris or out running errands…you were with her?” You ask, not wanting the answer but knowing you needed to hear it for you to be able to move on and find the closure you were never able to get in your past relationships.

It seemed as though Leon didn’t want to answer either as his eyes stared into yours, silently begging you to not make him answer the question that would surely shatter any hope left to fix what he broke.

“Please,” you whispered, holding back a sob as you felt your eyes sting from unshed tears. The look in his eyes gave you the answer, but you needed to hear him say it, hear how he ruined what you two shared, how he broke the connection. Even if it hurt you more than anything else from your past, you needed to hear it. “Just answer the question.”

Leon broke eye contact again as he stared at the wooden floor, his jaw locked as he held back tears of his own.

“Were you with her?” You ask again and Leon hated how defeated you sounded. You didn’t even sound angry or annoyed, you just sounded heartbroken and embarrassed. He was convinced he would rather have you scream at him than have you talk to him in the quiet, tearful voice you were using now.

He waited a few more seconds before forcing out the answer that would surely be the final breaking point in your relationship, the beautiful, fragile thing it was. “Yes,”

The single word was powerful as it was the final nail in the coffin of your broken relationship. You quickly look away, nodding as you wipe away the blood on your jeans. You weren’t sure where to go from here and you had no clue what to say next. Your eyes land on the box again and you decide to keep asking questions you really didn’t want to know. “Was that for me?”

Leon didn’t know what you were talking about until he looked over at you again and saw what you were staring at. He felt offended that you would even ask that as he was sure he made his feelings for you crystal clear. Then again, your current situation was entirely his fault, and your trust in him was nonexistent at this point, so he really couldn’t blame you for beginning to question everything.

He had to hold back his scoff that would surely make things worse when he answered, “Of course it’s for you,”

You look down before back at the box again, hating the fact that you wanted to see what the ring looked like. You bring your finger up to your mouth and chew on your nail, wincing at the sore skin that surrounds it. “Can I see it?”

Leon felt his heart sink. This was not how he envisioned showing you the ring. In a perfect world he would’ve taken you out on a date, probably to your favorite spot - the lake you used to go to when things became too much as it brought you comfort - and he’d make another memory with you there. He’d get down on one knee and wouldn’t have a care in the world about the inevitable grass stains that would form on his pants and he’d ask you to be his forever. Like you were always meant to be.

He didn’t bother answering as he grabbed the box and held it out to you without a word, his eyes glued to the floor. You take it from him, brushing your fingers against his hand as you did so and unknowingly making his whole body ache for your touch. As you held it in your lap, you bit your lip as you looked over at him. His head was turned so you couldn’t see his face, and maybe that was for the best.

You open your mouth to say something, but all words die on your tongue and you close it again after a few seconds. Taking a deep breath, you look back down at the black box and convince yourself to just get it over with. You just wanted to see it, that’s all, then you can move on and leave this behind you.

When you opened the box and looked at the ring, you bit down harder on your lip to stop a cry from spilling out. It was perfect and the definition of your dream ring and you wanted to sob at how well he knew you and your style. It was simple but so beautiful and so you. Your vision blurred and you tried to blink back the tears as you closed the box. It was useless as tears still flowed down your face and landed on your jeans.

Leon brought his hand back up to his mouth and he pressed his knuckles to his lips, turning to you when he heard you close the box. You hand it back to him without a word being spoken and he refrained from taking you in his arms when he saw how you tried to discreetly wipe under your eyes.

He looked at you while remaining silent, completely speechless at what was currently unfolding before him. There’s so much he wanted to say, but what was the point? The relationship was over, that much was obvious when you asked to see the ring that should’ve had a permanent place on your finger for the rest of your life. The ring you should’ve seen in a surprising and special moment, not during a break up.

Break up.

Leon’s heart hurt as everything set in. You were breaking up with him and leaving him to face the harsh reality on his own.

You clear your throat and wipe your damp hands on your jeans, no plan in mind when you sit up straight and say, “Okay,” it came out more in a breathless tone rather than sounding confident, something you cringe at before continuing, “I should go pack my stuff.” You nodded at your own words as you stared at the floor, beginning to stand up.

That made Leon hold the box in his other hand as the one closest to you reached out and grabbed your wrist. “Wait, please,” he quietly begged and you froze at his touch. You sat back down, though you never got to fully stand up to begin with, and face him. He looked heartbroken with unshed tears gathering in his waterline, his blue eyes begging you to stay with him. You could get lost in those ocean blue orbs he called his eyes, and you have done just that many times before. But not now. You couldn’t give in and accept his apology when he was the one who betrayed you beyond repair. “Let’s just talk about this some more.”

His hand was beginning to burn against your skin, so you gently pulled away, ignoring the hurt that flashed across his face. “There’s nothing left to talk about,” you say quietly, giving him a sad smile that he wished he never saw as he knew it would haunt him when he tried to go to sleep without you tonight. “I think we both know that.”

No, he wanted to say, let me fix this. Let me save us.

No words left his mouth as he watched you stand up and make your way to the bedroom. You were in there for what felt like hours before you walked back out, your duffle bag slung over your shoulder and a backpack on your other one.

You don’t say goodbye as you grab your phone on the way to the door, glancing back at him one last time. He was still in the same spot, his shoulders tense, his jaw locked and his eyes glued to the box in his hands.

You tear your eyes away from him and open the door, hesitating for just a second before you walk out and close it behind you.

When Leon heard the door shut and knew he was alone, the tears he had been holding back since he confessed what he had done came flowing freely down his face. He opened the box and looked at the ring, your ring. It always would be. You were the one girl he had ever dreamed of giving it to, and all it was now was a reminder of what he did and what he ruined.

He took it out of the box and held it between his thumb and index finger, watching as it sparkled in the light of the setting sun. Tossing the box aside, he reached into his pocket and grabbed his keys. He stared at the ring for a few more minutes before unclasping the chain and sliding the band onto the key ring, right beside the key to this very apartment.

Part 2

#leon s kennedy #leon re #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy imagines #leon s kennedy imagines #x reader #resident evil 2 remake #resident evil 4 #resident evil 4 remake #leon s kennedy x reader #leon scott kennedy x reader #resident evil x reader #leon s kennedy imagine #leon s kennedy fluff #leon s kennedy angst #leon kennedy angst #leon kennedy fluff #leon kennedy imagine

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god-of-fandoms · 5 months ago

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hey all!

just taking a quick break from writing to have dinner, and I wanted you guys to know that i'm like 3/8 done with chapter 2 of Press B. let me give you a progress report:

I have all of the story beats planned out know everything that will happen.

I have written 1 1/2 out of 4 of the scenes i've separated this chapter into (for writing purposes - it's easier for me to work when I split it up into big chunks and work on one at a time lol)

by the end of the day I plan to be 6/8 done - finish the scene that's in progress, and start writing the last two.

I'm really tired and hungry but boy have the creative juices been flowing. Nothing gets me writing like 1. worrying about keeping you guys waiting 2. rewarding myself with dinner and 3. needing to get this chapter out of the way to work on ishimondo week 2k24.

Anyway, Happy Pride Month, stay safe, happy and hydrated at all times! I hope you're looking forward to chapter 2.

Have a lovely day!

-Lee :)

(P.S. when this chapter does come out, apologies if anything seems out of character. make sure to tell me and i'll do my best to fix it! after all, this is the first time i've written in a certain someone's POV...)

#lee’s rambles #lee’s fics #ninjago #lego ninjago #ninjago skybound #press b for bad habits #press b #I dissected a frog today!#did not fuckin enjoy it #nearly threw up :D

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erwinsvow · 9 months ago

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𝐢 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮

summary: jj's made a bad habit of sneaking into your bedroom at midnight.

word count: 3.5k

now spinning: radio by lana del rey

author's note: finally some jayj!! <3 writing this felt like coming home. i hope i did him justice! tags: adorably in love jj and reader. smut but make it cute (heavy grinding/petting, jj calls you princess b/c duh<3, he uses a condom bc no breeding kink here! jj sucks your tits through your (his) shirt because..yah)

JJ makes his way into the window of your bedroom, trying to be as quiet and careful as he can.

You stand back a little, trying to give him enough room to get in, but just as he swings his other leg over, he stumbles and a small succulent in a ceramic pot on your windowsill goes flying.

You freeze, scared that the thud of his leg on the window frame was enough to wake up your parents—who unfortunately share the room right next to you. JJ’s hands stick out immediately to catch the little plant, and then somehow, he juggles it into place while steadying his feet.

You let out a sigh of relief, and he places the little plant safely on your nightstand.

“That thing’s a troublemaker. It’s always the quiet ones, huh?” He whispers, already knowing from all the previous times how thin your walls are.

Time before last, he leaned back against the headboard too hard while you were riding him, and just the noise of it hitting the wall was enough to result in a knock on your bedroom door. He blames you for that one, though, and the next time your parents come in, they notice you’ve moved your bed across the room.

“This one was your fault,” you reply, unsurprisingly giddy now that your boyfriend is here.

“Nuh-uh, princess, that was all you. Why’d you leave the cactus there, huh? You tryna get me caught?”

You shake your head but you can’t stop the smile from spreading across your face and the quiet laugh from escaping, trying to explain that it’s not a cactus, but the words melting on your tongue. You watch as JJ carefully closes the window—he’d prefer to leave it open so he can sneak back out without much noise, but you get cold, so he pushes it down as gently as he can.

You can’t help it—you always end up staring, eyes fixated on his arms and the way they stretch and flex while he adjusts your pink curtains and makes sure no one can see inside. You don’t care if the neighbors watch. Let them, you think, JJ and I will give them a show.

He turns around to really take a look at you, mind always going a mile a minute thinking about how deep of a slumber your parents might be in, if he remembered to grab a condom (he’d forgotten it earlier in the month and you’d been so disappointed, he had to eat you out for an hour just to apologize), and then he thinks he wouldn’t be so upset if he did forget it. Finally he wonders if you have any snacks in your bedroom, which you normally don’t, but he’s feeling hungry today.

When he finally takes you in, you’re standing there with that pretty smile he loves so much, the sleep sets you used to wear every night forgone for one of his big t-shirts instead, the ones with tiny holes near the hem, one that’s probably been passed around between him, Pope, and John, but has now ended up in your closet as a permanent piece.

You told him a story a while back, about how your parents question why you never put on pajamas straight after dinner anymore, like you used to. It’s because JJ’s shirts are your pajamas now and you can’t let them see.

“Why don’t you just, y’know, change after they go to bed?” He asks after hearing that story, rubbing the small of your back under the very same shirt, wondering how smart a girl as you are didn’t think of that idea first.

You don’t answer straight away, instead pressing your face further into his chest and inhaling that scent which is so uniquely JJ—ocean and sand and that car smell since he was probably working on something before getting his favorite text of any night from you, from anyone, really—They just went to bed.

You mumble something into the skin of his sternum, unintelligible and quiet, and he has to use his other hand to move your head up.

“Sorry, princess, getting some static here. Repeat that for me?” He cups his ear to listen in, which makes you laugh.

“Just wanna feel close to you,” you repeat, even softer, immediately resting your face back on his chest once you finish.

You’re sure he doesn’t understand what you mean, because it’s deeply rooted in you, that you hate the way your parents treat JJ. They’re not so rich or Kooky to judge him for not being so, and they’re overprotective of you, always have been, but they act so differently around him. They barely give him a chance, no matter how much you affirm that you’re so happy, that you’re only that way because you’re with JJ now.

They look at the stuff that doesn’t matter—the motorcycle he rides, ignoring the pretty pink helmet he got for you sitting next to his own. They don’t know that he worries about keeping you safe, so much so that he borrows the Twinkie twice as much as he used to, because the idea of you getting hurt on his bike scares him. It scares him enough that he didn’t let you ride with him forever, that it took months of begging to even make him consider the idea.

They look at his clothes and his shoes and don’t like that they can’t invite his parents over for dinner, don’t like the idea of you going to his place but don’t like him coming over either. When they do finally grant your permission to hang out with him at your home, you have to stay in the living room the whole time, television on and playing some stupid movie you could care less about—but at least JJ’s here, at least he’s holding you.

You feel embarrassed, about the reason why you wear his shirt, about how your parents behave, about how you can’t do anything at your house but watch reruns and eat some snacks, your parents wafting in every now and then to make sure nothing’s changed.

And he tries, he really does, which makes your heart thud and causes a warm, happy tingle to extend from your ears to your toes. He shows up with flowers for the house, a bottle of wine for your parents, a bone for your dog.

He’s trying to save up for a car so your parents don’t associate him with the roar of his bike taking off and the danger he’s putting their daughter in (you almost cry when he tells you this, partly because it’s so sweet, partly because you love that bike, love everything about that bike—your pink helmet, holding onto JJ’s stomach on a ride, the way he sometimes props you up on it and tells you he’ll reward you if you’ll be good for him—which you always are.

Putting on other clothes—clothes that don’t belong to JJ—in front of your parents so they don’t feel uncomfortable at the sight of you in his shirt, is a sacrifice you refuse to make. It’s your way of rebelling, as insignificant and silly as it is, affirming that you’re not gonna cave and end your relationship because they don’t approve. It’s hard, for a people-pleaser like yourself, taking a stand against your parents. You don’t possibly expect him to understand, but you think he does that day, with the way he smothers you in kisses all night, and continues the affection on your sofa the next day, no matter who’s watching.

He snuck in that night too—pulling a pair of socks from his pocket for you.

“Got you some more clothes of mine, so you can take your little stand without it being so obvious-” He doesn’t get to finish his sentence, because you leap into his arms to hug him so tightly, he can’t catch his breath for a minute.

That had been months ago. Since then, you and JJ spent nearly every other night together, trying as hard as possible to stay quiet and not get caught. He seems more worried about it than you do, like tonight.

“Your dad doesn’t have any firepower in the house, right? Like any bazookas or something?” he asks, walking closer to you, away from the window. You shake your head, laughing silently. It’s harder and harder not to be all smiles around JJ anymore. “Good,” he says, not as quietly as before. He brings you in for a hug, arms tight on your back, face buried in your hair. “Missed you, baby.”

You hold on with your little grip for as long as you can, finding it even harder to let go after hearing him say those words—you’d seen him earlier today, briefly, but this was his first time sneaking in since yet another scare a few days ago.

You only pull away because he does, taking off his hat and setting it on your yellow quilt. He sits down, beckoning you over, and you respond immediately, crawling into his lap like you always do. You could sit like this forever.

“It should be illegal for us to go this long without seeing each other,” he murmurs against your shoulder, before pressing a gentle kiss to the skin. His shirt hangs off of you, giving him easy access.

“I saw you this morning, silly,” you whisper, not moving, head buried into his neck.

“For like a minute,” his hands go to your hips, adjusting your position to get you more comfortable in his grip. His fingers press into the skin there, available since you were only wearing panties under his shirt, no shorts to get in the way. “Can’t do anything to you in a minute.”

“That’s not what I remember—” but before you can finish, he silences you with a kiss, soft and chaste.

“Hey,” he starts, while you begin to giggle at the memory. “I thought we weren’t gonna bring that up anymore. S’your fault, anyways.” He trails off, kissing you again. “That sundress has magic in it, or something, not normal-”

“Yeah, yeah,” you say, deepening the kiss, your whole face feeling hot now at the mention of the memory—the first time the two of you had done anything more than making out.

“Woah, woah,” he says, pulling away again, making you groan in frustration. “Did you lure me here under false pretenses? Are you tryna take advantage of me right now? Because I came here to cuddle-”

“Shut up, Jayj,” and you go back to finish your kiss, your hips moving by themselves. You don’t realize you’re doing it, you never do, until JJ tells you. His hands move down, grabbing the fat of your ass and squeezing while he makes you do all the work, for now, at least.

You work yourself up quickly, you always do when you’re with him, and you could finish just like this if he lets you, grinding your cunt against his hard-on, multiple layers of clothes between the two of you.

He likes to see you get worked up, so he’ll let you do it for a little bit longer, lips still attached, his tongue in your mouth. He slides his hand around where your panties rest on your hip, knotting his fingers between the fabric, his other hand resting on your hip and loosely guiding your motions.

“Feel good, baby?” he finally asks, not loud but not as quiet as before, either. You don’t care much at the moment.

“Uh-huh,” you whine, feeling yourself get closer, something in your stomach winding up tensely and making you want to increase your speed. You try, but JJ’s hand controls you, tightening up and squeezing like it’s a warning—slow down.

“Can’t make a mess like this, remember, pretty girl?” he asks but you’re only half there, half paying attention. Your eyes are squeezed shut, skin feeling so ablaze that you’re sure there’s beads of sweat lining your neck and face, hands gripping the material of JJ’s shirt while you rock yourself back and forth.

He watches carefully, eyes raking in your pretty face all twisted like this, your lips swollen and red from the biting since you can’t make any noise, your hardened nipples poking through the material of his shirt. He wants to wrap his mouth around one and play with it using his tongue, not even bothering to lift the shirt out of the way, but he refrains, since he knows you’ll cum in seconds if he does, and if you cum, he’ll cum.

“Don’t care,” you exhale, breathy and pitchy. He doesn’t even remember what you’re talking about. “I want your mess-” and your head tips forward, resting on his shoulder while he still moves you with his big hands.

It’s all of it, all at once—the fact that you haven’t been able to do much of anything, but especially this, with JJ in days, how hard he is and how good it feels to rub your pussy against him instead of your pillow, the fact that despite his shorts and your underwear in the way, you can almost feel the veins of his pretty dick, the ridge that usually has him slapping a hand over your mouth because you can’t help the noises that come out when you feel it inside you.

You’re so close—and you don’t care about the condom, about how everything’ll be sloppy and sticky after this, so you try to go even faster, until you feel the entirely too-strong hands of your boyfriend manhandling you, pulling you off and laying you flat onto the bed in one motion.

“Wha- Jayj,” you whine again, so much louder than you thought it would come out. Your heart’s thrumming in your ears, brain turned to mush and clit throbbing from the sudden lack of contact.

“Shh, baby, you’re gonna get us both killed-” and you look up at him with wet eyes and your signature pout, the one that gets you anything you want—midnight trips for ice cream, convincing him to sleep over even when he knows your parents will pop in when it’s morning, going on a ride on his bike when he’d thought it was way too dangerous. “M’giving you what you want, okay, so settle down-”

You try to be as good as you can, watching patiently while your thighs tremble and an uncomfortable, hot wetness pools between your legs. JJ pulls off his shirt, frees his dick from the constraint of his shorts, and lets out a little hiss when he sees the wet spot on his clothes from where you were just having fun.

“Dirty girl,” he says, but he’s smiling, not upset. “Made a mess already, even without me.” You let out more shaky breaths at his words, half-listening, eyes focused on the pink color of his thick cock, the way he strokes himself before putting the condom on. Your mind has turned off, every single thought except JJ leaving your head.

“Gonna be quiet this time?” he asks softly, lining himself up with your wet cunt, eyes almost rolling back into his head at the way you suck him in. You’re all tense, stomach in knots and pussy clamping just thinking about every inch he’s going to give you, the stretch he puts your tight hole through. You don’t mind much though.

“Your fault,” you mumble, in a daze. You love everything about JJ, the way his hair falls over his eyes when he’s hovering over you like this, when he licks his lip when he rakes his gaze across your body, how he smirks at you when you get like this.

He lowers his face close to yours and your eyelids flutter shut, expecting a kiss, but instead he buries his face into the crook of your neck, biting and sucking on the skin while you try to stay silent, and then he buries himself into you, all the way all at once, and you strangle a scream back so it dies in your throat.

It’s like it’s the first time, every time, with the way he feels inside, the way you’ve never really gotten accustomed to how big JJ is.

“Sure, baby, my fault,” he finally agrees, letting go of the hold his teeth have on your skin. That'll leave a bruise tomorrow, and the rush he feels from that goes straight to his dick. “This one’s my fault too.”

You don’t pay attention to his words or the stinging sensation on your neck, because the entirely overwhelming feeling of JJ inside you, slamming in and out while you’re forced to stay silent, fogs your brain. JJ hovers over you, and your hands find their way around his neck, snaking into his hair, pulling gently while he lowers himself for another kiss—hot, wet, even messier.

He keeps you this way often, so he can swallow your moans and let you be as loud as you need without much as much of a risk. Your bedroom fills with the slap of skin on skin, his hips ramming against yours.

You’d cry out because it hurts, but the way JJ fills you is anything but painful—it’s excruciatingly good, makes your toes curl while you feel that tense knot in your stomach beginning to unravel by itself, JJ hitting that sensitive part of you deep inside.

But it’s always more than that—it’s his the messy press of his fingers against your clit, the way he dips his head and takes your pert, clothed nipple into his mouth and swirls his tongue, and then when he hears you getting loud, he goes back to kissing you, quieting you. He thinks about everything so you don’t have to, heading tipping back onto the pillow and squeals leaving your mouth without a second thought.

You knead your fingers into his hair, holding him in place so he doesn’t pull away from the kiss, because you know you’re about to get loud.

He does pull away—easily fighting your weak grip to bring his mouth to your neck, kissing the love-bites he already left there. You feel JJ’s hot breath on your ear, already a mess, already close, but you tip over the edge when he talks to you, as quiet as he can.

“Come on pretty girl, make a mess for me-” and you follow his instructions without another moment’s hesitation, the walls of your pussy fluttering and then clamping tight around him, moans swallowed into his mouth as he kisses you again. You writhe around, toes curling, entire body tensing, staring up at your pretty boyfriend for as long as you can before your eyes shut, mind numb from pleasure.

It doesn’t take much for JJ after that—the feel of your nails scratching his back, how your pussy clenches around him, the moans he wishes he could hear loud and clear. In a final lustful, selfish thought, he imagines you screaming under him, begging for more, not satisfied until he makes a mess inside your little cunt and fills you up. He spills into the condom seconds after, grunting into your neck and wishing the two of you were anywhere else but the bedroom next to where your parents are asleep.

The room is silent again, save for the heavy breaths leaving both of you. JJ moves first, carefully settling next to you because the bed creaks on his side. He sits up against the headboard, safe because they’re on the opposite wall now, and moves your tired, languid body into his arms, head resting against his chest.

“Well, you made a mess, alright. Hope you do your own laundry.” You giggle, hand coming up to rest above his heart, fingers tracing patterns into his soft skin.

He sighs quietly, a gentle sign he likes your touch. You could fall asleep in minutes like this, the heat from JJ keeping you warm, the content feeling in your heart making you smile dopily. JJ notices, leaning down to give you another kiss.

He stares into the distance with a hand stroking your back, under his shirt. He looks around your cute room—the overflowing bookshelf, the photos taped up on the walls (mostly of the two of you, he thinks with a touch of smugness), a pile of his shirts that are now your sleep clothes folded neatly in your hamper, freshly laundered.

JJ thinks he’d do anything to stay like this, with you resting in his arms, forever.

“I’m gonna do it, I swear,” he starts, not as quietly as before. It’s a gentle sentiment, like he’s reading you a vow. “I’ll do anything I have to, I’ll make ‘em like me. One day I’ll show up here and they’re gonna be happy to see me. I’m gonna get better.”

“You’re already perfect, Jayj,” you whisper back, eyes closed because you feel tears lining up. He presses a kiss to your forehead. “You don’t have to do anything. I love you.”

He smiles again, eyes closing. He’s about to say it back when there’s a sharp knock on your door, and the handle starts to turn.

#<3 #jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #obx #i really liked writing this!!! thoughts?

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peppermintquartz · 1 day ago

Note

A potentially (even more) angsty prompt:

A couple month after the breakup (and Buck moping around), the 118 is called to a crashed Harbor helicopter.

Or alternatively, Buck is not on shift and Chim calls Buck that Tommy is in the hospital via a helicopter crash (the rest of the 118 rescued him). A la Chim's Henren matchmaking.

Whatever level of injury you wish for either is good!

(for the purposes of this ficlet, their breakup is NOT the 8x06 version, just one where Tommy is like "we're moving too fast, I need some time" and they agree to give it a pause, and it still sucks but they're not exes)

---

"So... Have you two patched up yet?" Eddie broaches the subject cautiously. It's a fifty-fifty chance that Buck will be willing to share or snap his head off.

"I asked him out for a drink," Buck says, eyes on his book (Slow Productivity, which seems kinda strange for a guy working as a firefighter). "He said he'll take a raincheck." He sounds emotionless, which means he's sort of upset but not overly so.

Which makes sense, since Tommy and Buck did have a Not-A-Date brunch to catch up two weeks ago. Eddie was there, too, desperate wishing he had an excuse not to be, so that the two yearning idiots would just get back together.

Eddie's about to say more when the alarm goes and Bobby hustles everyone onto their engines. Curiously, Bobby sits in the back, telling Hen to take his usual seat.

"What do we got, Cap?" Chimney asks, snapping his gum. It's a new habit - the man is stressed about a second child. The sirens scream to life and they're off.

Bobby puts a hand on Buck's shoulder. "Airlift gone wrong. A chopper went down while delivering a heart to First Presbyterian."

Eddie sees the younger man go still. Buck won't ask, so Eddie bites the bullet. "It's Tommy?"

Before he answers, Bobby tightens his grip on Buck. "It's Tommy."

The good news is that the chopper hadn't gained much altitude when it crashed. The better news is that its cargo, a heart ready for transplant, is still intact, so it's quickly rushed off to the hospital in an ambulance.

The bad news is, it was Tommy piloting.

The worst news is, he needs blood. A lot of blood. Hen and Chimney are packing the wounds and stabilizing what they can and Bobby is calling Dispatch to relay messages for a transfusion.

"Blood type, B-pos, no known allergies," Buck rattles off to Bobby and Hen, helping to lift Tommy, collared and strapped on a backboard, onto the gurney. His jaw is tight and his hands are steady. "His emergency contact is..."

He falters as Tommy is wheeled into the ambulance.

Eddie shoves him. "Get in there." When Buck turns to look at him, eyes wide, Eddie pushes him again. "Get in there. You're his emergency contact as far as we know, so go. Tommy won't survive your delay."

That spurs Buck into moving with alacrity. The ambulance pulls out, sirens screaming, and Eddie feels his heart pounding in his mouth.

Then he feels Bobby standing beside him. "They haven't patched up?"

"They're idiots," Eddie says with heartfelt vehemence.

Bobby sighs.

Eddie goes to the hospital three hours later, after the shift. Buck is still in his uniform, so Eddie passes him his duffel and shoos him off to change.

"What news?" Eddie asks when Buck joins him again.

"They've stopped the bleeding," Buck says, closing his eyes. "Now they need to work on the impalement."

Eddie sits next to his best friend. He doesn't speak.

"I'm done," Buck says suddenly, sounding like he's gargled gravel. "I'm done. When he wakes up, I'm gonna... I don't know what I'm gonna do, but I am not doing this stupid 'pause button' shit any longer."

Oh thank God. Eddie can stop feeling like he's a child caught between divorced parents.

Then, because he is and always has been a realist, he asks, "What if he doesn't wanna press the play button?"

Buck looks a little sick. He clenches his jaw and shakes his head. "Then we want different things out of this. And I'd rather it hurt all at once now than later." His eyes look shockingly blue against the paleness of his face.

Eddie pats his friend's knee, and leans back to grab some shut-eye.

Eddie takes on the bulk of Buck-sitting duties for the next four days, spelled by Bobby. (Buck takes time off. No one begrudges it.) Maddie manages to get Buck to go home to shower but she can't make him sleep in his own bed.

Convenient that Tommy crashed just before our off days, Eddie thinks, a little bitchily, the day he comes back after a shift.

Man broke Buck's heart. Eddie figures he's due a little bitchiness.

It takes five false alarms before Tommy is truly awake and alert enough to register Buck and Eddie are there.

The heart rate monitor beeps a little more urgently.

"I'm here, honey," Buck murmurs, taking Tommy's hand immediately and squeezing it. "Relax, okay? Docs and nurses gonna look at you for a bit first."

Tommy blinks, and on his horribly pale and scruffy face is a ghost of a relieved smile. He can't talk, but his mouth forms something that sounds suspiciously like "eh en", or "Evan", and Buck smiles so brightly that he probably powered the machines with its intensity.

Eddie feels the ground under his feet right itself as the doctor and nurses take over. Yeah, that pause button is going away. He sends a message to the group chat.

Hen replies, Bets on when they move in together. $5 min.

#tommy kinard #evan buckley #bucktommy #tevan #eddie diaz #eddie pov #118 fam

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girlleon · 4 months ago

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B-E-H-A-V-E, ARREST US! (ITALIAN MOBSTER, LOOKING SO PRECIOUS!)

leon kennedy x fem attorney reader

warnings: unwanted advances, car crash, ummm he breaks into your house… slight misogyny in his internal monologue? ooc leon too. Obsessive behavior if you squint. copious amounts of pet names because he’s on some shit. more unreliable narration. title taken from kill v maim by grimes

an: this was inspired by the courtroom scene in the dark knight sorry hope you enjoy :)

Leon Kennedy looked like he was having the time of his life as he was yanked out of the prison’s bus, smiling smugly as he was led along to the courthouse. Some cops had to push the press out of the way as they tried to shout questions at him, shouting at the press to get back and clear the way. You wouldn’t think a criminal trial would get such a big production, and yet. The head of the Salazar crime family gets caught on RICO charges and the press goes insane.

He doesn’t get a glance at you as he’s ushered in for the first day of cross-examinations, chains around his wrists and ankles jangling.

The presiding judge arrives and all stand before sitting. The charges are read—hundreds of counts of extortion, racketeering, witness intimidation, obstruction of justice, et cetera. Then, he’s brought up to the witness stand. Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God, yadda, yadda. “I do.” He wears that smug smile like the Armani suit he chose today, sitting with a bang of the gavel.

And aren’t you just so cute, in your little skirt suit and button-up shirt. A cutie like you shouldn’t be in a courtroom, you should be in his bed. What a cute little Assistant District Attorney, he should’ve looked you up when he had the time, he didn’t know the DA’s office hired such adorable looking little things.

You look visibly uncertain when you catch him eyeing you up and down, looking back at the big bad DA—Redfield or something—who sits at the table looking extremely unamused. “Please state your full name for the record.” You tell him, thumbing through the little manila folder you’ve got in your hands, heels clicking on the floor.

He leans forward into the microphone with a small smirk. “Leon Scott Kennedy.” He’s not listening to a word you’re saying as you pace in front of him, only clueing in when you look at him expectantly, eyes bright behind your glasses. “Can you repeat the question?”

You look so cute when you frown in irritation, he might just eat you up. “I asked if you can explain the thousand percent exponential increase in your earnings in just one month.” You fiddle with the papers, eyes flicking off to the side. “Exhibit ‘C’ in front of you.”

“Ah.” He looks down and spots the cute little graph, wondering if you made it. “My investments turned out swimmingly.”

“Your investments.” You repeat flatly. Cute little habit you have of parroting him. “Who did you invest with?”

“Oh,” He waves a hand blithely, “a new company, you wouldn’t know them and don’t need to worry your pretty head about it.”

You freeze, not sure what to do as he flirts with you so openly.

The judge gives him an irritated look and says, “I’ll remind the defendant to remain civil.”

Leon shrugs it off, he’s made of iron, he can handle this little bit of pressure, it’s good for him anyway. And he loves a challenge.

You clear your throat a little nervously, leafing through the notes you have. Aw, your little hands are shaking minutely, he bets if he held them, they’d shake more. “This company has no record of existing before those investments.”

Leon blinks. See? The pressure’s good for him. He gives you a slight smile as he recalibrates, linking his hands together in his lap. “Is that so? Then where would it come from?”

“Why don’t you tell the court?” Comes out a little short and his lawyers object on the grounds of it being combative. He watches you count to ten before you calm down enough to nod to the judge when he tells you to tread carefully. “I’ll rephrase: I’m hoping you can tell us.”

Leon leans so close to the microphone that his lips nearly touch it. “I think you mean, you’re hoping I can tell you.”

Your jaw tenses, and that can’t be good for your teeth, a pretty thing like you shouldn’t be so stressed. Unexpectedly, you go with it, shrugging blithely before you say, “Sure.” Your move, is what you really mean.

He grins widely, amused and delighted all at once. “I had my friends do a little digging for me to find a suitable investor for our… money.”

“Uh-huh.” You shift a little, your confidence coming back. “What made you trust this investor?”

He comes to a pause—he hadn’t been expecting that. “What do you mean, counselor?”

You grin just this side of smugly at getting him slightly off kilter. “This investor has no prior portfolio of successes or failures. How could you trust them if you have no background?”

Leon’s chains jingle as he spreads his palms with a shrug. “Investing is risky. And everyone has to start from somewhere, Tesla wasn’t built in a day.”

The jury and gallery murmur before the judge bangs his gavel for silence.

He watches your face harden in annoyance. “A bit of an unnecessary risk, no?”

“Why buy the cow when you can get the milk for free?” He throws out to see you confused, your head cocking at him as your brows furrow. You stare at him for a good few minutes and he can’t resist leaning in with a slight smirk and asking, “Cat got your tongue?”

The judge reminds him again to behave, if he does that again, he’ll be taken to jail in contempt of court. Oh, but that would be fun, wouldn’t it? It’d be an inconvenience for him, but to see the little look on your face as he’s walked away… he’ll keep that in mind.

You clear your throat and he watches you swallow, throat bobbing. “What made you choose to throw your lot in with a company that didn’t exist before the very month before your earnings increased?” He can practically see you telling him to dig a hole, any hole.

Leon shrugs. “Gut feeling. And my friends had given me good things from them.”

“How come their investments never showed up in their portfolio?” He watches you try to contain your glee. You’re too cute when you’re trying not to look too happy and remain professional, he bets if you won—which you won’t, he’s made sure of that—you’d be skipping down the courthouse steps.

Leon pauses for a long while, eyeing you as he considers all the possible answers—I never asked, why don’t you ask them, it was under the table—before he settles on, “My mistake, counselor, I’ll clarify: I’d meant that my friends had heard good things about them through the grapevine.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.” You say, eyes narrowing slightly. “I’ll repeat myself: that company—CAPCOM Industries—doesn’t have a prior portfolio of investments, good or bad. How could they have heard good things if there’s no previous work, if they don’t even exist before the month when your earnings went up?”

The defense objects on the basis of badgering, which the judge overrules.

Damn, you’re good, and foxy in all the ways that can be meant. Which leaves him with one option. He smirks and leans into the microphone, maintaining eye contact for a stilted amount of time. Eventually, he says, “I plead the fifth.”

Oh, beautiful. You couldn’t have given him a better reaction. Your jaw drops open and you stare at him for a long while as he sits back against the witness chair.

He’s cross-examined for a few hours before you’re all adjourned for a two hour long recess.

Cross examinations go on for five more days before closing statements come, this trial having gone on for a month at this time.

Defense goes first, blathering mindlessly about how Leon has a right to spend and earn his money how he chooses, on and on. He tunes it out, more interested in watching you pull your silly looking peacoat off and hang it over the back of the chair, dressed in a cute little button up and slacks set, your hair gathered at the back of your head. How cute, he bets they’d look cuter on his floor. Corny, but he had to use it.

Oh, the DA’s making you give the closing statement. That’s just cruel, you’re just a little creature and should be protected. To him, it just looks like a little girl trying to walk in daddy’s shoes.

You get up and shift around the edge of the prosecution’s table, your notes in hand. Wow, you really fill out those black slacks so well, he’ll have to thank whatever God is out there for building you like that.

He tunes in when you say: “You all have had the chance to hear many things over these past few weeks.” Your hands shake slightly, cue cards creasing at the corners. “That Leon Kennedy is being wrongfully prosecuted, that we have no right to poke into a man’s business and how he makes his money.”

He watches you pace in front of the jury, loafers whispering on the floor. That’s a shame, he likes you in heels, really makes your legs look long.

“You also have heard testimonies about how police have been hindered from doing their very jobs for fear of one bogeyman. You’ve heard testimonies of people he’s sold drugs to in front of NA meetings. On and on.” He watches you turn around and meet his eyes, tongue darting over your lower lip. He swallows when he sees that, stomach flipping. That’s embarrassing, he’s a grown man, he doesn’t get butterflies.

“When you take all that away though, all that remains is one man, this man.” You turn back around and point at him behind you. “No man is above the law, especially not one who terrorizes our city. We must take it back from him. Thank you, ladies and gentlemen of the jury, for your time.”

The judge waves a hand and the bailiff takes Leon out of the courtroom to wait out the verdict in his jail cell. He maintains eye contact with you the entire time he’s dragged out of the courtroom, a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth.

The next day, all parties are brought to court to hear that the jury is deliberating. The next day, the same. The day after that and the day after that are the same. The entire next week, the jury is still sequestered and deliberating.

Until you wake up one day, a pit in your stomach as you dress for court and wade through the paparazzi and news outlets on your way into the courthouse.

All rise as the judge presiding enters, all remaining standing when the jury spokesperson finally answers the judge. “We’re deadlocked, your honor.” She says solemnly, “We’ve been deadlocked for weeks, nobody will budge.”

Your stomach drops all the way down to mingle with your intestines, your knuckles blanching at your side.

The judge sighs and looks down. “Then I’ve no choice but to declare the state of New York versus Leon S. Kennedy a mistrial. Thank you, ladies and gentlemen of the jury, for your time. Case dismissed.” He bangs the gavel with a sense of finality.

Poor baby, you look a little like you have to sit down when you hear that. Leon shakes the hands of his lawyers, smiling like the cat that got the canary before he looks over at you.

Even worse, you can’t retry him with these charges because it’d qualify as double jeopardy. The bailiff contemptuously uncuffs him and he rubs his wrists, watching you stand there with your mouth agape, looking positively destroyed at not being able to put him behind bars. He bets you look just a little like that after being fucked silly.

Jeez, little thing, you don’t need to look so damn sad about it, he’s sure he’ll slip up at some point and you can have your fun with trying to prosecute him and igniting your little cat-and-mouse-game.

He makes a point of waggling his fingers at you as he walks by. “Don’t be so sad, cupcake.” Leon says blithely, sauntering out of the courtroom like he owns the damn place. “Better luck next time.” He calls out, a smug laugh echoing off the marble as he walks away, the doors shutting behind him firmly.

You’re at the DA’s office for the rest of the day, trying to get the files in order for the archives because a lawyer’s office is a little like a church—you never get rid of anything that may be important, no matter how old it may be.

You’re in there for a long while before you go out to the parking garage around two thirty in the afternoon, your car flanked with paps. It takes a while until they let you go, having to lay on the horn until they scramble out of the way and you’re free to go. You’re most of the way home when you notice a black SUV following you. Your hands flex on the wheel as you speed up just a little, taking a right turn to test your suspicions.

They follow.

Could be just a fluke. You take another right turn.

They follow again.

Could be another fluke and really awkward, anybody ever tell you that you’re paranoid? You take a third, then fourth right turn, the SUV following you the entire time.

Okay, so you’re not paranoid, and you’re being followed. You take every almost legal action you can, too caught up in the SUV behind you to note the SUV aiming right for you on your left.

The cars collide and your air bags go off, knocking you unconscious and giving you a bloody nose. Thank God you’re not awake, otherwise, you’d notice that the driver gets out of the car to see how you’re faring before speeding off.

You come to when the paramedics are there and trying to stabilize you, your neck in that stupid looking brace as they ask you questions you already know the answer to, hauling your sorry ass into the ambulance after gathering your bag and hightailing it to the nearest hospital.

You’re given two of morphine as you’re kept alive long enough for them to cart you to the hospital. You’re in and out of it as the EMTs give the hospital the details of you being t-boned, loss of consciousness at the scene, pupils equal and active, and so on and so forth. The doctor asks for your name and you give it a little sluggishly, but correctly. They work on you in a trauma room, x-raying and suturing up the cuts on your face, feeling for any fractures on your nose and eyes and any abdominal discomfort.

When they deem you lucky you weren’t hurt further, you ask if they can take off that ridiculous neck brace—you’ve gotta fight them for it, but they acquiesce because you’re so good at arguing your case. When you’re taken to a hospital room to wait for the cops, you call your secretary and update her on the situation.

Are you okay? No. You rather liked that stupid car.

No, like, physically. Yeah, you somehow only got away with a couple cuts, bruises, a mild concussion, et cetera.

Are you safe? Probably.

Do you need anything? A change of clothes and something greasy in the morning, they want to keep you overnight for monitoring.

I’ll get some flowers for you! And a card! No thanks, that’s not necessary, the pollen makes your ears itch.

The police eventually make their way up and you give your statement, more and more irritated when they see it fit to try and interrogate you when you’re not under arrest, but that’s cops for you.

You have a fitful sleep because those lights are always on and your bedroom is usually kept dark, you like honoring your circadian rhythm. Which is why you’re awake at seven when you receive a call from an unknown number.

“This is the assistant district attorney speaking.” Your voice is a little scratchy from lack of water, you have to turn and clear your throat.

He chuckles on the other end of the line, the sound making you freeze. “Did I interrupt your beauty sleep, counselor?”

You straighten up. “How did you get this number?”

“I have my ways.” Leon replies casually, “How are you feeling?”

“Shitty.” Mild concussion, one major cut and two minor cuts on your face, a minorly broken nose and bruised ribs and sternum, but you’re fine.

He laughs on the other end of the line, warm and… affectionate? “Such language so early in the morning.” He tuts, his sheets rustling as he shifts.

You grind your teeth and count to five before you respond, holding your phone so tight you think you hear the case creak. “You hit me with a car.”

He scoffs, shifting his grip on his phone. “I certainly did not.”

“Then you had your underlings do it.”

He laughs again and you almost want to throw your phone. “You’re sharp.” Indirect confirmation, this entire conversation is inadmissible in court. Motherfucker. “I like you, you know.”

You pause, anger momentarily dissipating. “What?”

“I like you.” You can damn near hear his smile.

You pause for long enough that he wonders if the line went dead. When he checks, his phone still has that timer counting how long you two have been on the phone: edging onto five minutes. He waits for a little longer, eventually starting to feel uncertain when you repeat, “You like me.”

He laughs, just slightly tinged with relief. “Yeah. So? Is that so hard to believe?”

Coming from the man who arranged for you to be in a car accident? Yes, absolutely. “Yes.” You say shortly, eyes wandering around your hospital room. “Absolutely.”

He tuts on the other end of the line, more rustling coming through as he shifts and gets out of bed. You never would’ve taken him for an early riser, you thought he was the sort of guy to laze around until the last possible moment—but then again, you’ve known a lot of drug dealers in your time and not all of them were lazy. Dealing drugs, apparently, requires a lot of hard work, regardless of whether it’s street operations or organized crime like Leon fucking Kennedy makes most of his money. “That’s a shame, I was hoping I could take you out.”

And apparently, he has a fondness for double entendres, you just know he’s holding back a cackle. But even onions have layers.

“Not happening.” You feel immensely satisfied when he pauses this time, holding back a smirk of your own.

“May I ask why not?” He asks eventually, voice carefully level. You get the feeling that he’s never been rejected before.

You pause in turn this time, befuddled as to why he’s even asking why not. There’s many things: he’s evil, you’re on opposite sides of the law, you don’t even like him one bit, it’s a conflict of interest—“You know why.”

“No,” He says firmly, surprising you. Okay, maybe you can see why he became the Don. “I want to hear it in your own words. Why not?”

It’s your turn to pause, staring at your phone as the seconds tick by. “You’re a mob boss. Why would I want to go out with you?”

“Why don’t you?” He presses, voice hardening before he reminds himself that he catches more honeys with fly, rather than vinegar, or whatever the stupid saying is.

You hang up on him and put your phone on do not disturb when he calls you back. You’ve got a caffeine headache and a concussion headache and it’s too fucking early to deal with this bullshit. Your secretary finally gets over here around eight thirty with a change of clothes hanging from her arm and a bag of appropriately greasy food and a coffee for you. She pauses in the doorway when she sees you, brows furrowing in concern. “Jesus. You look like you got hit by a car.”

You frown at her, setting the clothes at your feet when she comes closer, passing you everything you asked for. Food gets eaten and burnt coffee gets drank first, grimacing with every sip. You can’t change yet, still hooked up to all these monitors. A doctor comes in at nine-oh-five sharp, flipping through your chart before he asks the perfunctory questions and declares you safe to go home—gotta love the American medical system. A nurse unhooks you from the monitors and gently drags the IV needle out of your vein, giving you privacy to change.

You’re summarily sent home with a concussion care sheet and strict orders not to return to work for two weeks. You’ll stay home for a week at absolute maximum, but it’s the thought that counts. You and your secretary take her car to your apartment because yours is totaled and you argue with your insurance most of the way there. When you get out, she stops you with a gentle grab of your wrist. “Are you sure you don’t want me to come up with you?” She asks, teeth digging into her lower lip.

“I’m a big girl.” You snort, gently removing your wrist from her hold. “You left the key in the right place, right?”

“Yeah…” She says reluctantly, left leg bouncing.

“Okay, then. See you in a week.” You get out of the car the rest of the way and she calls back, “Two weeks!” Before speeding off. You make your way to the apartment building—one of the most secure in the city—and buzz yourself in, walking through the lobby and garnering a few stares as you walk over to the elevator and press the button for your floor. You lean against the wall for support, pressing a hand to your aching head.

You sigh once you’re inside your penthouse, toeing off your shoes and hanging your bag on a hook by the door, trudging to your room and collapsing on your bed. It takes you three days of medical leave for you to become officially restless, you hold out for the next four days before you come in on Monday to your desk covered in Get well soon! Bouquets. You pause and stare at it, then note a giant teddy bear holding a heart that reads: You’re bear-y cute!

No note for the flowers or teddy bear, but you know who they came from.

You have a normal month of work, discarding the bouquets Leon sends every damn day. Just how much money is he throwing away trying to woo you? Eh, just a penny in the bucket; when you were gathering evidence for that RICO case against him, you saw how much he made in a month, easily your yearly salary.

You come home from a long day—your office is litigating another for a miscarriage of justice, you haven’t come home in days—sighing as you hang your coat and bag up, freezing when you hear a gun clicking. “A little cliche, isn’t it?” You move a little slower as you toe off your shoes, kicking them over by the shoe rack. “The click of a gun as a greeting, I mean.”

Leon laughs, then puts the safety back on the gun, setting it on your coffee table. “Why not have a little theatre in your life?” He eyes you as you turn on the lights, revealing you, consummate professional in your adorable looking slacks and button-up shirt. “Anybody ever tell you that you fill those out really nicely?” He says, eyes on your thighs and ass as you walk over to the kitchen.

You grunt in disgust, pulling your hair down from where it was gathered at the top of your head. “How did you get in?” You ask as you fill up a glass with tap water. Really, you’d rather go for a mixed drink or some wine, but you don’t trust him enough to drink in front of him. This is really just the horseshit icing on the bullshit cake, to be honest.

“Pfft.” Leon waves a hand. “Key on top of the door. You should’ve moved it after your assistant came and got you clothes the day you got out of the hospital.” He shifts, long legs crossing. “How are you feeling, by the way?”

“Better.” You say shortly, keeping space and the counter between you two. “It’s amazing that I wasn’t more hurt.” You walked around with a butterfly bruise across your nose for a while and the DA had to keep you out of court until it cleared up, but you’re fine.

He smirks, pink mouth pulling up and to the side. “Yes, quite a miraculous thing.” He sighs and gets up, buttoning his suit. Is that what he thinks real people dress like? Jesus.

“I find that I rather like you alive, not dead.” He says conversationally, looking over at you and really taking the chance to drink you in, brows twitching together when he sees how tired you look.

That’s not how you’re supposed to look, you’re supposed to look bright-eyed and bushy-tailed and all excited. “You look tired, bunny.” He tells you, leaning against the table.

You stare at him for a while, head cocked to the side. “Work.”

“Ah.” He kisses his teeth, eyeing you up and down shamelessly. “There are easier ways to make money, sweetheart.”

“I love my job.”

He laughs, soft and deep. You shift a little from foot to foot, nails tapping against the counter.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing, babydoll.” He waves a hand and watches you bristle, shoulders stiffening and drawing up. “You can’t offer a guest a drink? I’m parched.”

You frown at him. “Guests are invited in. You broke in.”

He leans over and swipes the half full cup from you and turns it so his mouth can touch the imprint of lipstick you left behind. “No sign of forced entry.”

You’re a little too shocked to say or do anything. “Because you used the key.” You watch his throat bob with a swallow.

“Tomato, tomato.” He sets the cup down and gives you a debonair smile. “Anyway, counselor, I thought it’d been a while since we talked.”

You stare at him for a while. “And you can’t get yourself arrested instead?”

He laughs a little louder and your hands fist on the countertop. He strolls to your door and opens it up. “Where’s the fun in that? Get some sleep, counselor.” He calls out, door shutting behind him and rattling the pictures on the walls.

You wouldn’t think it after seeing him on the witness stand, but he’s got a dramatic streak the size of you.

Leon smirks when he sees you walk over to the holding cells, an unexpectedly stern look on your face. “We’ve got to stop meeting like this, cutie.” He drawls, head cocking as he looks you up and down, eyebrows raising.

“So you took my advice about getting yourself arrested.” You fold your arms and lean against the wall.

He gives a dashing—and a little smug—smile, eyes flicking up from where they ogle your chest. “And you can prosecute me again, I love watching you work.” He stands up from the bench, wandering over to the bars. He leans forward, hands wrapping around two as his head cocks, still grinning like a fat cat who got the canary.

You don’t move from where you’re leaned against the wall. “You’d be wasting the court’s time over a speeding ticket. The DA doesn’t take those cases.”

“Ah, not a speeding ticket, beautiful.” He uses pet names so easily. He leans in as if to tell a secret—you lean in too, straightening up slightly. “What if I’d said I turned myself in?”

Your stomach drops. “I’d say that you’re a liar.”

“Ouch, counselor.” His smirk remains on his face. “I’m many things, including a bogeyman, but I don’t lie.”

Your face warms. He really remembers your closing statement? You’ve had two cases every month since then. “Legally, financial fraud counts as lying. False advertisement, for another.”

He scoffs, blue eyes rolling before he shakes his head at you. “Where’s your sense of fun?”

You were just joking, but telling him that takes all the fun out of it. “Why turn yourself in?”

“Easy, counselor.” His—clean, warm, smooth—hands flex around the bars. “I’m not on the stand yet.”

“I’m not examining you.”

His dimples show, eyebrows jumping up as he stares at you like you put the stars in the sky. “Touché.”

You can’t prosecute him anyway because of a legal hiccup; somehow, you think he meant for that to happen, to walk into the police station, knowingly not be read his rights and to confess anyway, thus violating his third or fourth amendment, that parts not your deal, it’s the stupid cowboy cop’s fault.

You’re there, trying to do a good impression of disappointment as the judge informs everyone that the case is dropped, yet again putting these charges—and all he admitted to—inadmissible under, yet again, double jeopardy.

Leon, for his part, looks pleasantly surprised, then a little quizzical as his cuffs are unlocked and he’s set free. He catches you by the arm after lurking by the door for you to come out, dragging you to an alcove. “I was read my rights.” He tells you, blond brows furrowed as he boxes you in.

“Were you?” You ask innocently, head cocking like a confused puppy—Leon almost wants to kiss you for it. “It wasn’t on the recording of the procedures.”

He stares at you; you watch him with interest as the cogs turn behind his eyes. Understanding clicks in place and you pat his chest twice.

“I’ll see you next time, cupcake.” You tell him, close to skipping away, you’re so giddy. He watches your hips sway as you walk away, lower lip between his teeth before a smirk crawls across his face. He walks away whistling, scuffing his dress shoes on the floor.

#resident evil #leon x reader #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x you #mine

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thisblogisaboutabook · 11 months ago

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❄️ Solstice with Azriel headcanons ❄️

- As you open your present he watches intently. He got you a super unique gift that you never knew you needed. He’s spymaster, obviously it’s something perfectly tailored to your interests.

- When you look up from opening the gift he quickly looks away, his features becoming neutral, as if he totally wasn’t just internally freaking out that you wouldn’t love the gift.

- You’d love anything from him and he knows it. He just adores the joy that lights up your face when you open it.

- He never misses an opportunity to brush his hand against yours whether it be when you walk past each other, pass dishes around, hand out gifts, etc. He loves the connection.

- He steals kisses anytime you end up in a space where it’s just the two of you

- Ever the observant mate, he keeps your wine glass full all evening.

- Without you asking, he hands you glasses of water throughout the night.

- He knows you have a bad habit of forgetting to hydrate and waking up with nasty headaches.

- His cheeks and ears slightly redden as you make a risqué quip that only he can hear.

- You have an unspoken agreement that you’ll tire before the others because:

- A: He’d never miss the opportunity to fly you home, ravishing you into oblivion under the warm holiday fae lights

- B: He needs to get to bed early, he’s got his best strategy yet for this year’s snowball fight.

- When he wakes the next morning he presses a gentle kiss to your forehead without waking you

- He leaves a hot cup of tea and hangover friendly breakfast on your bedside table the following morning.

- A handwritten note included:

“My love,

You’ll always be my greatest prize - snowball fight victory a far away second. I’ll dedicate my victory speech to you when I kick their asses. See you when I get home baby.

Xx, Az”

#azriel fluff #azriel x reader #acotar #sarah j maas #a court of thorns and roses #a court of silver flames #azriel #a court of frost and starlight #azriel shadowsinger #winter solstice #headcanon #christmas headcanons #azriel headcanons

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r3linx · 4 months ago

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⇄ ◁◁ 𝚰𝚰 ▷▷ ↻ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ⁰⁰'²⁵ ━━●━━───── ⁰²'⁰⁸

╰┈➤ characters... •`HAYATO SUO´•.

˚₊·—̳͟͞͞♡ SYNOPSIS... silly smoker yn thinking she could get away with that nasty habit but suo catches her and yeah... lectures her?? ˚₊·—̳͟͞͞♡ WORDCOUNT...0,9k ˚₊·—̳͟͞͞♡ WARNINGS...: tw! smoker yn, suo quite literally licked your hand, sfw, fluff, comforting, slight angst [if u squint enough trust me you'll see it], nonbinary reader ˚₊·—̳͟͞͞♡ OTHER... reblogs, likes and requests are appreciated!

a/n: like i said. yeah. sorry i let my inner demons decide what i write and i really needed to do this cuz i want to quit smoking so bad and i need smth to give me reassurance >-< (also i didn't read the whole in the end, just finished it cuz i had a rough day and im lazy for that so im just posting it,sorry if there's any errors in it or sounds dumb sometimes)

birds chirping. everything quieted down around you, almost as if the world stopped spinning. the cold breeze brushed against your skin, leaving goosebumps scatter all over your arm. the sun almost disappeared on the horizon, making the sky glow with orange, yellow and different but incredibly warm and beautiful shades of pink.

knees pulled up to your chest, all alone in the whole school you sat outside on the cold, gray concrete stairs, ragged by time and weather. here and there weeds peeking out through the cracks which was already stomped on by others till it was barely visible.

‘finally.. some alone time, all I could wish for..’ no one to listen to, no one to talk to, no one to match their standards. just you and your own train of thoughts.

holding the roll of tobacco in-between your pointer and middle fingers, raising up it to your dry lips and taking a long, final puff. the cigarette slightly warming up the end of your fingers by its light but also leaving a nasty essence behind. then tossing it aside, nothing left in it as you watched the smoke still pouring out from it between the strands of thick grass.

you pressed out a long exhale from your lungs, this time letting your eyes flutter close and just for a quick moment trying to forget everything. your ears ringed louder and louder by each second, feeling like passing out then and there—

“hey.” you snapped you eyes open at the sudden voice. gentle, yet carrying a lot of depth in his tone. without a question or remark, the person simply just taking a seat next to you. ‘great..’ you huffed, following his movements with your eyes till he comfortable positioned himself beside you, now being on eye level with you. you said nothing. he remained silent.

“are you just gonna sit there?” you spit out, irritation filling up your blood to which the individual took a simple glance down to you lap, where your hand was resting.

“may i?” questioning, you couldn’t find the usual warmness in his words this time, instead replaced by bitterness. again, just before a reply could be formed, ghosting his hands over yours, placing it on his with care, bringing it up to his mouth. the one you held the cigarette with.

soft, lips. softer than yours at the moment. grazed the top of your hand, your knuckles, the end of your fingers -eyes widened, you watched him.. and so did he. not with a smile. his eyebrows lowered. his gaze abused your soul, piercing it through from the inside.- still, carefully but with stone hard determination, pressing a kiss to your hand. and another. the third, with somewhat open mouth. hot tongue joining his lips on your skin, just for a quick moment, taking in the taste of your skin. then lets your limb down, releasing from his grasp.

suo eyed your features with interest. taking note of your shocked state and crimson red color dancing across your cheeks, reaching up to your ears. his gaze still heavy on you, he tucked an unruly lock behind you reddened ear.

“just needed confirmation.” no explanation, no apologies. he wouldn’t apologize for a kiss on your hand, why would he?

“confirmation of?”

“of you still damaging your body.” he replied, patience running thin. he wasn’t born today to know and realize, seeing through all your lies and poker faces like it was thin paper, held up in front of the bright sun. “no need to for the poor acting of yours. ever since I first saw that between your fingers, you kept me on my toes.” you were aware of what he told you about smoking, it played on repeat all the time you lit the cigarette. but it was one time, no harm, right? or you thought. you weren’t aware of the fact how he knew your promise was a lie. the promise to quit it. the rumors echoed into his ear, you sitting here every single day after school, alone in your peace. alone, until this day.

looking everywhere but him, one of your legs started tapping on the ground, searching for a new and believable lie. your leg still shaking, he took your chin in his hand, forcing your eyes on him. his strong grip made you wince in discomfort, fear setting in as his face contorted into anger even more by now.

“your body isn’t fixated on it. you can change. but you don’t want to.”

“it’s not-”

“it is true! it is, goddamn!..” crows screeched as they flew up from the ground, high in the colorful sky as suo's voice ringed louder this time.

the sudden change made you flinch, now averting his gaze even if for yourself to make it less awkward.

“why can’t you try and rely on me?” the question shocked you to the core, how could he even- “let it be me what you’re fixated on.. be addicted to me..” the more he said, the more quiet he became at the end, you could almost see his usual put together behavior and expression crumbling away into nothing. instead, he too felt the atmosphere between the two of you change into a more deep and sensual one.

taken aback, you sat there in silence staring with a dumb expression, suo couldn't help but let a smile pass by his lips, now his arms snaking around your side, head resting on your soft shoulders. you let the sensation of his closeness consume you, relaxing yourself into his embrace.

"have faith in me.." with a final murmur suo found a warm place to rest his head in the crook of your neck.

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ 𓈈 ᵈᵒ ⁿᵒᵗ ᶜᵒᵖʸ, ᵐᵒᵈⁱᶠʸ ᵒʳ ᵘᵖˡᵒᵃᵈ ᵐʸ ʷᵒʳᵏ ᵃˢ ʸᵒᵘʳˢ!

#relin writes!! .ೃ࿔#wind breaker #suo hayato #suo hayato windbreaker #windbreaker #wind breaker x reader #windbreaker x reader #wind breaker x gn reader #wind breaker oneshot #wind breaker x y/n #wind breaker angst #wind breaker drabbles #hayato suo #suo x reader #suo hayato x reader #hayato suo x reader #wind breaker suo

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flowerandblood · 8 months ago

Text

The Gate of Salvation NSWF Alphabet

[ young pope • Aemond x catholic • female ]

NSWF Alphabet for Aemond from my mini series The Gate of Salvation made for my one year celebration. I show perspective of what it looked like with his beloved. Dirty things below.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after the act)

Afterwards, he is a complete devastated, crying mess, going through some kind of panic attack, and the only thing that can calm him down is her reassurances that she still loves him, that she is not disgusted by him, that he is not a bad person, that she forgives him.

He snuggles up to her and literally sinks into her body, pressing his face into the hollow of her neck, feeling safe only with her. Once he calms down he makes sure she is comfortable, that he hasn't hurt her and she doesn't need anything.

B = Body part (favorite body part their own or their lovers)

He adores every part of her body because she is a miracle of God for him, but he loves her eyes most, her soft, tender gaze, he melts thinking about it.

C = Cum (anything that has to do with it)

He cums only on his own hand. He doesn't want her to be touched by the effect of his sin, dying internally every time she licks everything off his fingers.

D = Dirty secret (Pretty self explanatory)

Well... he is the Pope. Everything he does with her is his dirty secret.

E = Experience (do they know what they’re doing)

Before his beloved: absolutely none. His morning erections aroused his disgust. He had never thought of such things before he met her, considering them simply sinful and primitive.

F = Favorite position

Sitting with her on top, his face nestled between her breasts, he can then touch and feel her in every possible way, can kiss her and watch her reactions, which calms and arouses him, while at the same time not really seeing anything.

G= Goofy (how serious are they)

There is no room for laughter in this sacred act of their closeness, what they do and how they do it is a very serious matter for him.

H= Hair (grooming habits)

All natural and clean, as God himself has created him.

I = Intimacy (in the moment romantic or rough/dirty)

He is very insecure and affectionate, he needs to feel her close, her embrace and her voice give him a sense of security. He could spend the whole night whispering in her ear how much he loves her, how much he needs and wants her, satisfying her with his fingers, gazing in awe at her fulfilment, comparing her to Bernini's Baroque sculptures.

J = Jack off (do they masturbate and how often)

He only masturbates in front of her to restrain himself from throwing himself at her right away and put his cock inside her – he wants to feel her this way when he's already on the edge. He doesn't touch himself when he is alone and thinks about her, repenting in this way.

K = Kink (kinks what they like possibly unusual)

Definitely a religious kink. Her calling him Holy Father when he touches her, when he slips his fingers deep inside her, or thrusts into her, send him into another orbit.

L = Location (where they like to get it on)

As comfortable as possible, in her room on her bed, somewhere they can both feel safe because they are still stressed about being caught in the act.

M = Motivation (things that makes them tick/turn ons)

Her telling him that she loves him, that she is only his, the sight of her at least partially exposed body, her crossed legs when she sits, her breasts peeking through from under her dress when she is not wearing a bra. His manhood literally throbs with delight at the sight of her every day.

N = No (turnoffs or absolutely won’t do)

He would never let her give him a blowjob or handjob. He would die of despair, shame and regret for humiliating and insulting her. Anal and other weird things are out of question. Big no.

O = Oral (receiving or giving and how skillful they are)

He would never let her suck him off, but he himself had dreamed of tasting her from the very beginning.

He would arrange everything so that the room was completely dark and he could not see this intimate part of her body, but only feel it with his sense of touch, and then with slow, timid flicks of his tongue he would bring her to the brink of despair.

Hearing her sobs, her thighs shaking in his embrace, her hands clutching his hair, he would slide his tongue deep inside her, eating her weeping cunt like a starving man until she came all over his face with the loudest, sweetest moans of pleasure he had ever heard.

He would do it often to her ever since.

P = Pace (how fast they are and how long they last in bed)

Because he's constantly aroused and doesn't masturbate when she's not next to him, he doesn't last very long, but neither of them cares.

Q = Quickie (do they prefer fast and hard)

On the beginning they do it painfully slowly, but once he's deep inside her, his brain disconnects, and he slams into her as if he hasn't seen her for a month.

R = Risk (do they like to try new things)

Definitely not. Meeting his beloved is risky itself.

S = Stamina (how many times they can go and how long each round lasts)

After one round, he is so overwhelmed and shocked that he needs at least a day or two to calm down and come back to himself.

T = Toys (are they game for using sex toys on themselves or lovers)

None.

U = Unfair (how do they tease or do they enjoy suspense themselves)

When he sees her talking or getting close with any other men, his mind goes into the mode of a stern judge who asks her if she is sure that she deserves to be fulfilled. He gives it to her, satisfied only when she is a babbling, leaking, quivering little mess, reminding her to who her body and soul belong to.

V = Volume (are they loud, what sounds, and do they talk)

When he touches her in her most intimate place, when he rubs against her leaking cunt with his cock, when he thurst into her he is a whimpering, panting, babbling mess.

W = Wild card (random canon of any sort)

None.

X = X-ray (what’s down below in dem pants)

Heaven's Delight.

Y = Yearning (sexdrive level)

When he sees her, he is melting. It doesn't necessarily always end with sex, but he always wants to be as close to her as possible.

Z = Zzzz (do they sleep after if so how quickly after)

He makes sure that she fell asleep first, listening to her calm breathing, and he cuddle himself between her breast and sleep like a little baby.

He wants to cry when the alarm clock on his phone rings before sunset so that he has time to get up and go back to his rooms before anyone realises he's not there. He is so comfy and warm in her embrace, lying with her under the duvet, that he only wishes he could stay with her longer.

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